Confessions of A Writerholic

2005-02-24T12:25:00.002-08:00

http://evangelinekelly.blogspot.com

Go there to see my new blog. If you like me, you'll probably go; if you hate my guts, you'll probably go to make snarky comments about me. But either way, go if you feel like it.

2005-02-24T12:25:00.001-08:00

2005-02-24T12:25:00.000-08:00

2004-11-23T11:16:00.000-08:00

As freedom's sower in the wasteland
Before the morning star I went;
From hand immaculate and chastened
Into the grooves of prisonment
Flinging the vital seed I wandered--
But it was time and toiling squandered,
Benevolent designs misspent...
Pushkin, 1823

I'm feeling a bit at loose ends now that I've been cut loose from my haven of support. Once again, I am taking a break from this blogging thing. It's a place to vent my frustrations, but it's becoming frustrating to even vent about my frustrations because of lack of support. I'm at an impass that I am eager to approach, and yet am not so eager to approach due to the fact that for the past year and a half, I've never been completely ALONE with this writing thing. I started writing seriously, then I immediately found writing groups, then I found reading groups, then slowly but surely, I found particular writers to converse with.

But now that I am 100% alone, it's a singularly novel and somewhat ironic experience considering the fact that I've always been somewhat of an independent sort of person. It's with a mixture of guilt, resentment, relief and trepidation that I face this new horizon. I appreciate the things and words various people have given me. It's not so much of a fact that I'm going to ignore others, or pretend that I don't need them, or to dart back and forth with others when I do need them and ignore them when I don't--though I've recieved that sort of treatment from a few writers--but that I need to do this alone in order to prepare myself for myself. I've gotten into unwise habit of depending on others to assist me with develping my writer's mentality and personality, and when I do sell, it can't continue--what if I have deadlines, but because no one is there to bolster me verbally or with emotional support, I can't get into the "mood" to write?

I appreciate all of my writing acquaintances and the various support they've given me, but I'm one of those persons who can fall into bad habits concerning people, and before I become a published author, I need to get rid of them. I'm not disappearing 100%--there's always email and various message boards--but this public forum, with its own expectations and emotional upheavals is going on a vacation. As I'm writing this, I can feel that dependent pull upon my person; that pull of wanting to be a part of a crowd, of wanting to be a part of something because I've never truly had acquaintances that "got" me, to continue to blog because it's a means of making me feel as though I am somehow important in this scheme of things.

But I am important regardless of whether I have one to a million people reading and responding to my blogs and various insights. This has all been a great learning experience, and one that I am still learning. I wish everyone that read this blog and commented on it the best of luck whether it takes them a year to four years or more to sell--I still have your back. Feel free to email me about whatever, whenever, wherever. I enjoyed this, and I might do it again when I sell.

2004-11-19T16:24:00.000-08:00

In hopes of fame and bliss to come
I gaze ahead with resolution
The dawn of Peter's sun was glum
With turmoil and with execution

~Pushkin, Stanzas 1826

I'm writing for NY, but I'm also writing for me. I've found that I can't do one without the other. Attempting to write for NY dampens my creativity and enthusiasm. Attempting to write for myself always leaves me feeling as though I'm missing something and missing out on something--and I start to look at the market again anyways. I think I've found out the meaning of when someone says to write the book of your heart=it's a combination of writing what you want, and finding a correctly fitting slot to fit it into the NY publishing keyhole.

At the moment, I'm in the midst of plotting and planning a historical romance set in 1904 England that's a mixture of Beauty and the Beast and Taming of the Shrew with a large dash of The Buccaneers in it. It's really wonderful and I can't wait to start actually writing it.

Congrats to Sylvia for her award winning manuscripts! I had the priviledge of perusing some of her chapters and they were engaging and lively. She deserves all of the accolades she's been recieving.

2004-11-14T22:28:00.000-08:00

Listen, maiden!
- She is not listening -
It's broad daylight! In a town!
Near you there's no living soul.
What are you grasping at all around?
Whom are you calling, whom are you greeting?
- She does not listen. -

~Adam Mickiewicz, Romanticism (1821)

I just hate it when I have two awesome protagonists, but I can't find their story. I'm thinking that I should discover the theme of the story to discover what I am trying to prove within the plot. I'm a little scared because this book is going to be a departure for me because it has plenty of action, adventure, humor and sensualness, and I don't want to mess it up. One thing I do know is that I'm going to be either adapting or skewering popular fairy tales as the basis of this book, and the other books that could possibly follow it.

I bought Mercedes Lackey's "The Fairy Godmother"because the title popped out at me when I was browsing Wal-Mart's book section. I don't normally read fantasy--in fact, never read it--but as part of my new writing goals for myself I am going to begin to read books outside of the genre(yet that still have a strong romance subplot), and I'm starting with this one. I did notice that Lackey has also written some fairy-tale-ish books set in the Edwardian era. Score! *G*

2004-11-14T08:14:00.000-08:00

If I walk the noisy streets,
Or enter a many thronged church,
Or sit among the wild young generation,
I give way to my thoughts.

~Pushkin, Thoughts

As Buffy says "Live In The Now". And even though she was referring to a vampire's horrendous taste in fashion, that line stuck with me; usually to be whipped out when entertaining(or torturing,depending on whom you ask *g*) my family with my memory of tons of quotes from that show. It's meaning didn't become real to me until just recently.

Live in the now. That is, live for today. It's great to have goals for the future, or even the nearby future, but it became a snowball effect because I didn't make goals for NOW. I made goals for two months from now, goals for a year from now, goals for five years from now, but little old today? Nope.

It was painful and gutwrenching, but I put aside those future goals and made a list of goals that could be done every single day; one day at a time.

I think that as an unpublished author, even though we may be past the bloom of the "first youth" of writing continues to get caught up in time. Like "once I finished this manuscript and edit it, I can send it out to an agent/editor to have something out there, circulating(or because everyone else is doing it) a few [insert time] ahead of schedule!" or "I just found out that it's going to take me [insert time of months/days/years] to complete this MS!!" or "Editing/Revising this MS is getting tedious!" and other things like that.

Being unpublished(w/o a job) gave me PLENTY of time to do whatever I want, whether that included chucking aside a manuscript because it was taking too long, chucking aside a story idea because it wasn't germenating into a premise,theme and 3-D characters fast enough, pounding away at the keyboards every day to meet daily word count deadlines regardless of whether it was any good or not--or whether it had anything to do with the plot and/or advanced the character arcs--, or speeding through the editing procress because "Jane Doe Writer says that she can edit and write her books in XX amount of time" or "Author X has a new release! The months are passing by too quickly!",etc.

Now that I have a job and mucho time constraints, it forced me to step back "whoa, whoa, whoa!" and see the bad habits and thought patterns I was forming for myself. I didn't know it, but I was sabotauging myself. Not only by my constant "rubber-necking" of other authors, but because of the tiny little, evil, devious, very-well-hidden factor of setting really high goals, so that if I failed, I could taunt myself with the failure and justify why I wasn't published and why I would never be published.

But I'm over that now, and I've not only set daily goals, but goals to improve my prose, goals that will help me learn how to create 3-D characters and themes/premises, goals that will help me become a better writer and a person outside of writing.

2004-11-09T18:22:00.000-08:00

The storm wind covers the sky
Whirling the fleecy snow drifts,
Now it howls like a wolf,
Now it is crying, like a lost child,
Now rustling the decayed thatch
On our tumbledown roof,
Now, like a delayed traveller,
Knocking on our window pane.
~Winter Evening by Pushkin

I think the real reason why I am having so much trouble settling on an idea to develop, or even to sit down and write is partially to do with my earlier post about my "nemesis".

I am drawn to setting my historical romances in exotic settings and/or with less than "romancy" heroes and heroines at times, but then my imagination is at war with wanting to succeed at writing for an NY publisher--a totally different ballgame than writing for yourself, or even a small press--and even attaining a measure of success.

I want to sell to my targeted NY publisher/editor, but I am afraid that if I compromise on plots that interest me in lieu of writing something more "marketable", I might be stuck writing that way for the remainder of my career. But then, when I try to make something fit within the High Concept idea, I lose my passion for it and I sink back down into worry and fretting.

What's worse is when there are those occasional breakout authors who do something different and great and becoming moderatly successful; and yet publishers still take the easy way out with everyone else. I've begun to not believe the old adage "once you become super successful, you'll be able to write anything you want to" because as I troll about AAR's message boards from time to time, I realize that readers expect certain things from authors once they've been reading them for a while. Sure, there may be some long time readers who are delighted with the different product their favorite author may present, but the majority are disappointed and baffled at the change. (Though, I'd rather have everyone talking about me than not at all. *G*).

So, as the title says, I'm working on juggling my integrity, creativity and compromise in order to write the best darn manuscript I can and hopefully obtain my targeted literary agent who hopefully sells it to my targeted publisher.

Quotes

PS: Have you noticed yet that the Victorian is the new Regency? I'll bet that within a few years, this fickle, fickle romance world will be bemoaning the outpouring of Victorian set historicals. *GGG*

2004-11-05T20:29:00.000-08:00

The truth is rarely pure and never simple.--Oscar Wilde

The Wal-Mart Chronicles. Experience It. Live It.

I'm not writing. [insert mournful groans here]. I'm truely and really taking a breather this time. All I'm doing is reading, researching my new time period, and writing snatches of monologues. The end of 2004 is going to be a time of reflection and preparation for 2005. This time last year, I was just joining my writing groups and getting serious about writing, but I still hadn't reached the insights I'd just discovered this past summer. But I see everything as a learning experience--especially terrible manuscripts.

The one thing that has changed is that I am slightly,ever so slightly, cynical about this business. Watching some very surprising career leaps and some not so surprising leaps, I've come to realize that this is not truly a business dedicated to excellent writing. It's all about hooking readers and branding authors. I'm not naming names, but I shall use my personal "nemesis", Author X as an example.

Author X is my "nemesis" because their career leap was such a fluke. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was envious at first; but then it mellowed to extreme competitiveness; even though Author X is very much a published author, and then the fact that we don't even know each other.

(I personally think that having a so-called "nemesis" is such a good thing--it keeps you on your toes and gives you something to strive for and beyond. Think of it this way: remember that girl in your class? The one who knew all of the answers and was soooo smug about it? You remember how you wanted to beat her so badly that you studied even harder to get better grades than she, even though really, you could care less about her--it's just that competing against someone made you feel exhilarated. That's how I feel. Because basically, once you sell, whether you're friends with your own Author X or not, you're in competition. But since we're women, we're not supposed to be competetive. *GGG*)

I don't know, but I'm a bit psychic, and I predicted Author X's career leap--in fact, I had a feeling that Sabrina Jefferies would make NYT best-seller status with "Married to the Viscount", as weird as it sounds--but I was still astounded and envious of it when it happened. Why? Because, Author X's books read like first or second drafts! I'm not a perfect writer, but I can honestly and unarrogantly say that I am a better writer than Author X. So I did a little digging to discover the dynamics to Author X's quick success. Here's what I discovered:

1) Author X's book happened to be released in a month that saw a whole bunch of new or under the radar author releases, with only two major best-selling author releases out. So basically, the consumer pocketbook was up for grabs after those two best-seller's books were purchased.

2) Author X's first book had an awesomely beautiful cover that would grab everyone's attention. Heck, before Author X became my nemesis, the cover grabbed me and made me buy their book.

3) Author X's book had a very large and very compelling hook--regardless of what was inside.

4) Author X's first three chapters were very sparkling and animated.

5) Author X's second book had an extra eye-catching title and cover and back cover blurb.

6) Author X is published by a major publisher well known for publishing their type of books.

7) Author X launched a very good marketing campaign to get consumers to buy their second book. (Heck, I was hooked by it too!)

Even though it doesn't sound like it to the discerning ear, I'm not bitter, nor am I snacking on sour grapes. In fact, ignoring my previous investigation, I'm happy for Author X's career reaching what they obviously strived for. In fact, regardless of whether I like an author's books or not, I respect them for having gotten published, a mean feat in itself, and for attaining the success that only a few obtain. Of course, I shall be shooting to attain that measure of success, but in it's own time. I'm in no rush to become harried by publisher deadlines, and whatnot. I'm finally allowing myself to enjoy the fruits of being unpublished.

2004-11-02T22:27:00.000-08:00

Chere Jane gave me some encouraging words earlier, and Marguerite helped me out too, so thank you, thank you, thank you.

So I was watching Veronica Mars, and I got a flash of insight on the characterization of a heroine of one of my WIP's. I'm still trying to mesh this new insight with her old one and the original plot, but this was one of the missing links. I still have a few more left, but I'm calm, confident and relaxed about this now. No more stressing and rushing this writing thing. All good things come with time, is how I see it. Making myself anxious about things always makes me produce mediocre work, so "stop that!" (that's me rapping myself on the wrist. LOL).

But, I also really enthused now because all of the books I ordered from the library have arrived and I can go pick them up tommorow! All of my Edwardian research books(well...technically research for the 1890's, because apparently, the Edwardian age truly started a decade before 1901, when Queen Victoria was really old and turned into a really big recluse.) and Pam Rosenthal's books and a Julia Ross book--an author I've been dying to get my hands on because of the great things I've heard.

I just hope my osmosis doesn't kick in. *G*

2004-11-02T11:40:00.000-08:00

I have outlasted all desire,
My dreams and I have grown apart;
My grief alone is left entire,
The gleanings of an empty heart.
The storms of ruthless dispensation
Have struck my flowery garland numb-
I live in lonely desolation
And wonder when my end will come.
Thus on a naked tree-limb, blasted
By tardy winter's whistling chill,
A single leaf which has outlasted
Its season will be trembling still.

Alexander Pushkin
1821

I am at the highest pinnacle of frustration. You know, that point where you just want to throw a tantrum because you just can't seem to care. *G* It is a conspiracy that once my personal and everyday life gets on track, I fall off of the tracks with my writing.

I took a three week hiatus from writing anything except for job resumes and writing prompts, and now that I'm in the mood for writing, I freeze up and feel inadequate when trying to make my characters come alive and plotting. I have the premises sitting right here, right in front of me, but everytime I look at them and think about the work that goes into creating a wonderful book, I start zoning out!

I've also been in a horrible reading mode. I know it's partially because I really want Adele Ashworth's new book, and that highly anticipation state ruins me somewhat for other books, but I feel like snoozing at the thought of reading anything out there that I haven't already been anticipating.

I don't know, I'm somewhat bummed about this writing thing. I don't think that my writing sucks, I just think that I am eternally hopeless with getting to the writing and I will always be that way. Gah!

On the bright side, a side that shows some sort of hope, Sasha finaled in Tawny Taylor's Some Like It Hot! contest. Go Sasha!

2004-11-01T19:36:00.000-08:00

Yay! I'm back.

I'm such a sucker. Right now, I'm dissatisfied because now that I have two fairly strong premises that I am dying to work on, my mind can't come up with it's usual flash inspirations to distract me. I am so weird.

But anyways, I have a historical romance and an action/adventure chick-lit that I am going to be seriously developing for the next year. 2005 is my target year. I really want to sell either, or both stories next year, but while I would be disappointed if I didn't, I'm not going to stress about it. Because stressing about it will only make me anxious and my work won't be my best if I try and force it.

But, in case you forgot why I was gone, I got a job. Now, I sell jewelry. I'm mainly happy--besides the money thing--that I now know how to work a cash register! FINALLY. At all of my other jobs, my former managers were all blah-blah about training me, and now I can finally work one. I'm estactic. *G*

I feel all left out now. Everyone who is everyone(haha, we author bloggers have like, a Hollywood type atmosphere going on) is involved in NaWriMo(that is what it is, right?). But I'm not, because I'm in heavy plotting and research mode for my historical.

And now that I notice it, why is it that I like my heroes and/or heroines to be thieves? It is a poor person's thing? Or what? *G*!

2004-10-20T13:11:00.000-07:00

Life's a show and we all play our parts
And when the music starts
We open up our hearts
It's all right, if some things come out wrong
We'll sing a happy song
And you can sing along

~Buffy, Something To Sing About

Okay, I'm 85% certain this will be my last post for the month of October.

Why?

1) I'm finally getting a J-O-B! And I have some writing responsibilities I need to take care of.

2) I finally wrote down a list of goals(6 mos,1 yr, 5 yr,s 10 yrs) because I realized that just having them inside of my brain wasn't helping. So, I'm cracking down on this writing thing.

3) I'm going to immerse myself in this particular WIP. No pussyfootin' around like I used to do, no procrastinating, no excuses. Write, write, write. Revise,revise,revise. Regardless of whether this particular manuscript is "The One".

4) I have a goal that by this time next year, once again, regardless of whether I've sold to any of my targeted publishing houses, I will have at least 3 full length historical romances and 2 full length chick-lit novels done, finito, finis, finished.

And in the honor of one of my favorite cooking shows: Ready, Set, Write.

2004-10-19T18:36:00.000-07:00

The artist who this viol wrought
To echo all harmonious thought,
Fell'd a tree, while on the steep
The woods were in their winter sleep,
Rock'd in that repose divine
On the wind-swept Apennine;
And dreaming, some of autumn past,
And some of spring approaching fast,
And some of April buds and showers,
And some of songs in July bowers,
And all of love; and so this tree,—
Oh that such our death may be!—

~Percy Bysshe Shelley

Score! I found some of Aphra Behn's work online. I've been looking for her plays, poems and novels ever since I read a biography on her(practically the only non-biased,recently published biography of the woman) a few months ago.

I'm sick. I hate being sick. It's rainy and gloomy in Sacramento and I hate it. I loved Virginia rain because at least it thundered and lighteninged. And it didn't rain there in lieu of snow. Here, it rains in the winter and it rains in lieu of snowing. I'm still pissed off over the fact that the year I left Virginia, they had a white Christmas--something I'd been dying to have all of my life. It's a conspiracy, I tell you.

I've been thinking about career goals and plans due to some talk on blogs. And while I do have personal goals, I also have authors who are unofficial career mentors to me, whether I read them or not.

1) Eloisa James -- Her first book deal was sold at auction, it was a three book hardcover deal--something very rare for a new author--and it gained the notice of People magazine
(It's a long shot, but selling at auction is a goal of mine that I am beginning to work towards.)

2) Teresa Medeiros, Lisa Gardner, Jennifer Blake and Lisa Kleypas -- all of them sold at young ages and have been very successful and prolific.
(I want to sell young. Not for bragging rights; but for personal achievement because I figured out what I wanted to do at a young age, went after it and attained it.)

3) Judith Ivory -- is well known for her vivid, well-drawn characters.
(I want my characters to always be rememberable whether their story was or not.)

4) Jane Feather & Roberta Gellis -- are very well known for their rich, lush and very correct historical background
(I'm a lover of history and I hope to convey this in all of my books whether they been romances or fiction/mystery/suspense with a romance subplot)

5) Libba Bray & Ann Rinaldi -- The former; a YA historical/fantasy novelist who wrote what she wanted and sold it. The latter; YA historical author who opened American history up for me when I was a pre-teen/teenager.
(I want to write YA historicals with or without any other element because I want kids to appreciate history as much as I have, and to entertain them along the way.)

Who are your "career mentors" and/or what are your career goals?

2004-10-18T17:21:00.000-07:00

"Well, evil just compounds evil, doesn't it? First, I'm sentenced to a computer tutorial on Saturday. Now I have to read some computer book. There are books on computers? Isn't the point of computers to replace books?" -- Cordelia

Procrastinating a bit on writing my synopsis/outline as I'm listening to BTVS musical soundtrack and think that they should bring that musical episode to the stage--I'd see it everyday.(I'm a nut over Buffy the Vampire Slayer; if you knew me in real life, you'd think I was crazy in the way that I can pop out a quotation if I see something relevant to it. *GGG*).

"Lucy Sullivan is Getting Married" is one of the best books I have ever read. I think it's better than "Sushi For Beginners". I am so envious of Marian Keyes because she is such a good writer! LSIGM made me laugh myself to death, it made me cry and it made me re-read it immediately after I was finished. I'd catagorize it as chick-lit/women's fiction. In the midst of Lucy trying to find the man a psychic said she was going to marry, she deals with the discovery that her beloved father is an alcoholic, that she has always dated broke, slimeball alcoholic men because she saw them as a way to fix what she couldn't with her father; there are super-duper hilarious blind dates, roomates from hell, crazy co-workers, a horrid boss and Daniel, her male best friend who is a player and has been in love with her forever. I really love this book because Lucy could have been me if my parents hadn't gotten divorced when I was 12. But I adore Marian Keyes now. She has the most unique voice out there and she is able to make something that could be sad, (melo)dramatic and sappy into something witty,funny and entertaining.

The end of procrastination...boohoo...

2004-10-17T01:30:00.000-07:00
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

~George Gordon, Lord Byron

Poem snippets and Buffy quotes. And maybe random quotes I stumble across.

###

I set up a blog for my writing excercises(poems, short stories, prose, blah blah blah) because I realized that just because I'm not doing any actual writing on a manuscript just yet doesn't mean that I couldn't not write something(other than email) at least once a day. It was a revelation that came to me last week after I was really mad and really frustrated over a personal matter and I just wrote the little scene(hey Jane, is it a scene? *G*) that is below, and felt a huge relieving of my turbulent emotions. (Plus, that little scene helped me find the place for this nomad premise and H/H that I could not fit anywhere.)

Also, I read Zuckerman's book "Writing the Blockbuster Novel" and when I pared away his infatuation with his clients, I was able to gain some insight into how to advance my own writing. Basing my new insight upon Anne Lamott's shitty first draft and combining it with the example Zuckerman gave of Follett's many drafts for his synopses; I am going to return to my former work habit of writing detailed synopses before I sit to write the actual manuscript.

I am not a pantser. Pantsing makes me break out in hives because my mind is so twisted and bizarre, in my few attempts at pantsing, my stories have turned into complete hybrids of whatever came to my mind that day and what I thought I was trying to write. It's not a pretty sight. *G* (And I am sure that it'd take me forever to find a lucid thread beneath it all.)

But, before, I'd only write one synopsis and then write the manuscript. Suffice to say, the finished product was only 45% better than if I had pantsed it. Follett makes as many drafts of his synopses as he has to, and I am going to follow that.

Plus, I am uber excited over the morphed WIP because I said "Screw You NY!"(but not in a means way, of course. *g*) and set this book in Paris. I have made peace with the fact that I will always gravitate to France or other places outside of the UK if the characters/plot warrant it, and I shouldn't fight it for the sake of The Market. No one's equipped to tell the future, regardless of whether a degree says you can, or if you hang a sign above your door and claim to. So, I'm going to write what I want. Plus, some advice Judith Ivory gave me has been chewed upon:

You know, from where I sit, the market just isn't as tight as anyone is saying. Slipping and pulling just isn't necessary. A good book has always been a book an editor--somewhere somehow--finds a way to publish. If you have a great book that can only be told in one time period, be it an enormously unpopular one, tell it in that time period anyway. If the book is a fine piece of work, it will sell. Editors take chances on books that stir their souls. Stir their souls. Then trust that the world is a kinder place than people are saying here. Editors fight for books. That's their job.

That's all I need to do as a writer. Write the very best book that I can each and every time regardless of what others say, regardless of what I say: just do it. No one can predict the future regardless of how many degrees they have or whether they hang a sign over their door stating that they can. And isn't it always the risk takers; the innovaters; the fearless ones; who break out and are able to capture what they want?

###

On the reading front, I am laughing myself to pieces over the antics of Becky Bloomwood in "Shopaholic Takes Manhattan". I also read:

"The Sinner" by Madeline Hunter(was better than I'd hoped; I hated Dante in his brother's book)

"A Well Pleasured Lady" by Christina Dodd(am I the only person who didn't see the H/H has two crazily flawed people the way reviewers have? *blink* And I hate when I read reviews and hear people rave about books, and then when I read them, I don't see what the big deal is.)

"Upon A Wicked Time" by Karen Ranney(Deja vu. I swear I've read this book before. Except I haven't. Weird.)

Nonfiction: I'm reading "How to Grow A Novel by Sol Stein and re-reading Evan Marshall's books.

After Shopaholic, is either "Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West" [I've read Confessions of An Ugly Stepsister and I am enthralled with the author's vivid reinterpretations of fairy tales(-ish. The Wicked Witch isn't truly from a fairy tale.)] or "Lucy Sullivan's Getting Married" by Marian Keyes.

2004-10-14T00:35:00.000-07:00

Giles: "Does this look familiar to either of you?"
Buffy: "Yeah, sure. It looks like a book."
Xander: "I knew that one."

I'm reading Austen at the moment. Partially to assuage my need for the new releases(can you lust after a book? *G*), and partially because it's been sitting in my bedroom for a few weeks, fermenting, and I hate to return books to the library unread.

...Which is how I came to have six or seven non-fiction books on various subjects lying about my room with bookmarks stuck between the pages...

But, should I feel guilty for never having truly read the works of Jane Austen? I've only really read Pride & Predjudice, and that only because I had to write an essay to win a scholarship.(And I lost, FYI. Only because I didn't really pay much attention to the book. g*)

"But...Austen is a classic! You cannot truly be a fan of the Regency period without having read her(or Georgette Heyer...who personally, bores me and reads quite cold)!"

Well, I haven't and I'm trying to make up for it now. My attention span has widened a great deal since my junior year in HS, so my eye isn't wandering when I'm trying to read a passage. I'm also tackling a Poe anthology after Lydia Joyce mentioned a few Poe stories that her WIP is inspired by. And let me tell you, Poe is...Poe. He can write some pretty chilling and suspenseful stuff. Plus, I've learned that to be a good writer, you must be a good reader. And study classics as well as current fiction.

On the writing front...the MS, the old one I was planning on rewriting, has morphed. It has morphed into something entirely different, and while I always feel guilty(dumbly) for having weak manuscripts or story ideas lying on my hard drive, I am learning to accept that I'll always have things like that occur, and that every idea I have doesn't have to be a story. In fact, how it morphed was a fun, yet excruciating experience.

Now, my heroine's always seem to be the Hero of my manuscripts, so I start from there and follow the adage "if your hero's a firefighter, make your heroine an arsonist". The original, old manuscript, I moved it to a train. Still cinderella, but with a masquerade angle to it. Then, I moved it onto a ship because the train was too small for what I wanted to happen. But then, it stalled because my original reason for my heroine to be travelling from America to England didn't fit with the new setting.

I then threw my notebook in the back of my closet in frustration.

Two, Three days later(meaning, today), I'm burning a hole in the paper, trying to find out what the hell this story was about! (I'm only halfway there; my hero's not here yet), and so, I decided to do the Six Degrees thingy. The "What If" game.

Story goals poured out like water and then, then, one of the what if's began to form into a that's it. Yay! But then I began panicking because that new heroine story goal began to hurtle in the direction of a plot sketch that I'd made over a month ago, that I liked, but couldn't fully round it out. And I'm back to the guilt, because I really, really liked that story. So now, I'm working on my hero, on the rest of the story and how I'm going to mesh things together.

But suffice to say, this historical romance--and the chick-lit idea I'm sketching out--is based on an Audrey Hepburn movie(s). *G*

Who, incidentally, is one of my favorite old Hollywood actresses and a style icon. Come to think of it...earlier this year, I was obsessed and rented all of her movies and watched them over and over.

Funny Face, Breakfast At Tiffany's & Charade are my favorites.

Craft Link: 1000 Verbs

2004-10-08T23:23:00.000-07:00
A raw quickie from a flash-idea I got last night

Paris, France 1896

A shot rang out in the darkness.

###

From far away, footsteps tapped hesitantly; the sound muted against the plushly carpeted floors.

Jacqueline Marie-Louise D'Arblay pressed trembling fingers together in a sign of prayer, her heavily kohled lids closing tightly, her rouged mouth moving quickly; the soundless words tumbling from her lips like a babbling brook. She had once been a faithful Catholic; attending the richly fragranced, plodding services with a ferver that awed even her simple mother. But it was certain that this sin, compared to the numerous others she had committed was irrevocable; near unforgivable. And yet, temporarily reverting into the bright eyed, honest child that she once had been, the paters and Hail Mary's fell easily from her wicked tongue.

The footsteps paused just outside of her door; a floorboard creaking beneath their heavy tread. His tread.

An icy ball of dread formed in her gut and the prayers became more violent; almost rebuking, as though she were blaming God for the sickening situation she had found herself in. It was laughable. Blaming God for her sins. She had been the one to abandon him, to mock and laugh at him, to tarnish the former reverence had name had used to evoke in her person. And for what. Him.

Her protector. Her lifeline. Her tormenter and betrayer.

But now he was dead. And she was far from free.

"Dead God in Heaven," She murmured breathlessly, opening her eyes and standing. Standing to embrace the damnation she was certain approached.

In an absurd, familiar gesture; one she used when awaiting his return; she smoothed the dark, chestnut curls that escaped her chignon before pressing the wrinkles from the skirts of her crimson evening gown. She placed her palms flat against her side, shielding the mingling stains of gunpowder and blood, holding her head high as she stared at the door.

The heavy, brass knob rattled once, twice, before she heard a click. It echoed throughout the oppressive silence and she refrained from flinching, from showing fear, or remorse, or better yet; anything.

The door opened on a silent glide, the muted lighting flickering behind her licking and lapping at the edges of the room, leaving her pursuer in the shadows. His light, crisp fragrance was sharp against her nose and tongue; horse, leather and soap. The familiar scent brought such a wave of acute longing, her knees weakened and she turned her face away from him to hide her reaction.

Oh, how she longed to have the right to reach for him; to curl into his arms--to curl into him. But she, the betrayed had also been the betrayer, long ago losing that right.

She swallowed silently, feeling his heavy, intense gaze lingering on her; touching along the bruises that marked her jawline, the finger shaped bruises that shadowed her neck, before raking the remainder of her body in the insolent, bold, and confident perusal she remembered of old.

Just as quickly as he had stared, his focus swept away and by the swift intake of breath, she was certain he had then discovered Charles' body ,lying where she had left it.

It was so odd, she thought, the trembling of her hands betraying her unease, how powerless and vulnerable Charles looked in death. How useless and weak his broad, massive hands looked in eternal repose. The stocky, plain looking man didn't look capable of many nor all of the atrocities that he eagerly heaped upon her slight, willowy frame.

"What have you done?"

His low voice vibrated within her, stirring up long surpressed emotions like wind disheveling leaves that strayed along the edges of the boulevards.

"He is dead."

His steps were swift as he approached her, and the next she knew, she was staring into icy wintergreen eyes. Bright eyes that were framed by impossibly thick lashes. And lines of...dissipation? Age? No. He was too fastidious to wallow in drink or women, and he was not much older than her eight-and-twenty years. Involuntarily, her eyes dipped to his mouth, notcing the grim crescents that surrounded them, the wicked looking scar that sliced through his upper lip.

His fingers tightened their hold along her jaw and she winced. He cursed fluently and dropped her jaw, moving away and running a hand through his thick, honey blond hair.

"What happened, Jacqui?" He asked quietly, his back to her.

She opened her mouth to speak, a sickening feeling of doubt creeping into her mind. This situation had fallen from her hands the moment he asked that question of her, his voice full of anguish and trust. His faith in her shook her, confounded her, frightened her. Especially after what she had done to him. She didn't deserve it. She wouldn't deserve it.

"I killed him."

"You didn't." He turned to face her, his gloved hands clenching at his sides. "I know you Jacqui, like I know my own self, and you are not capable of such a crime."

"I did," She approached him, holding out her palms. "He hit me, I picked up the gun I purchased a month ago and shot him, point blank."

She forced a satisfied and unrepentant smile onto her lips. "Three times. Twice in the heart. Once in the head."

His eyes narrowed and he grasped her shoulders, shaking her, dislodging her elaborate coiffure. Pins dropped onto the bloodstained carpet, tinkling in time with the sudden chiming of the clock.

"Dammit Jacqui," He shoved her away when she remained calm and detached.

"Are you going to arrest me?" She fused her wrists together in imitation of handcuffs.

"I am not." He said in a tight, clipped voice.

"Then, what are you going to do?"

"Nothing," He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping even more. "for now at least."

A vague pang of guilt stabbed her at the thought that this man, who already carried the weight of the world upon his broad, somber clad shoulders, was burdened even more, by a woman he should never have tried to protect.

"What about Charles? The servants are certain to notice a rancid smell, if not the actual body."

Icy green eyes cut across the room to stare at the violence ravaged body of the man she called her husband, before returning to focus on her.

"You never should have--" He cut himself off, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I never should have what?" She pressed, ignoring the warning voices that shouted in her head.

"You never should have formed a union with him." He ground out.

"Chere," She smiled brittlely, sauntering over toward the sideboard and pouring herself a tumbler of brandy. "You know I always go my own way."

"I know," He had followed her without her knowledge, looming tall over her. "It was what I loved most about you."

"Don't say that." She felt sick. That word always caused her stomach to churn with bitter memories and regrets. "You can't have loved me. You never knew me."

He stared at her impassively, plucking the glass of brandy from her fingers and slowly, deliberately, keeping his eyes locked onto hers, placed his mouth where hers had vacated, and drank.

Her skin felt tight beneath the form fitting evening gown, her mouth drying as she watched him swallow, the tightly corded muscles of his neck flexing and shifting with the swallow, forcing her eyes down, down, downward to rest against the steadily beating pulse at the base of his neck.

How dare he be so calm inwardly as well as outwardly when inside, she was a quivering wreck.

She flicked her skirts away from him as she stepped lightly toward the open door.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed," She called over her shoulder.

She couldn't deal with this. First Charles. And now him. She could never deal with him; a circumstance that never failed to irritate and anger her.

When she stepped inside of her warmly lit chamber, the crackling fireplace casting a comforting glow over her ornate four poster bed, she made to push the door closed behind her. Only, it wouldn't budge.

She turned around, her eyes landing on a gloved hand, traveling up the coated arm before meeting his mocking smile, cold eyes and sardonic twist of his heavy eyebrows.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"What does it look like?" He slid inside, shutting and locking the door, leaning back upon it and crossing his arms.

"Get out."

"Make me."

"The servants--"

"When did you ever care for their opinions, cherie?"

"The body--"

"I locked the door with one of the keys I used to enter the house."

She pressed her lips into a thin line, her body stiff with the knowledge that he would not depart until his whims were satisfied. With a silent oath, she spun on her heel and made her way towards her dressing room. He followed.

"You have no right to be in here."

"Don't I?"

He repeated his words when she refused to answer.

"You don't."

He moved past her, blocking her path with a knowing smile that caused her face to heat. That inflamed her even more. She hadn't blushed since she had been a girl-child, and by the glint in his eyes, he knew it as well. His smile turned charming.

"Don't I, Jacqueline Marie-Louise, Madame Bastien St-Georges?"

2004-10-06T05:12:00.000-07:00

Ms. Calendar: You're here again? Kids really dig the library, don't cha?
Buffy: We're literary!
Xander: To read makes our speaking English good.
~ I Robot, You Jane

To assuage myself whilst I'm still working the kinks out of my Egypt set HR, I opened up a manuscript I wrote,hmm...seven months ago or so and read it, with the anticipation of rewriting it and submitting it somewhere.

Let me tell you, I have come a long,long,long,LONG way since then. I was laughing so hard as I read my quasi-horrible historical romance because all of my errors leapt out at me at once. My CP's can tell you, my sentences are long sometimes. And sometimes, they are so long, they are one paragraph--it's that darn rhythm I hear in my head. But this MS takes the cake for longwinded sentences.

Add POV switching like mad--but not head-hopping--,scant description, a tiny amount of really deep characterization, and characters that are slavering over each other and don't really have any interaction outside of making out, and you have this MS.

But the things that do leap out at me on the positive, is that my dialogue was funny. It truly was. I found myself laughing constantly and swearing up and down that there is no way that I wrote those lines. Also, I could feel the exuberance coursing from the sentences. Exuberance that I somewhat lost when I became obsessed with The Market and editors,agents, currently published authors, and trying to write that way from the jump start.

I've been trying to recapture that naivete and enthusiasm that I had when I first began writing, and fusing it with the peace and knowledge that I have now, and my revising this old MS is helping.

It's also a shitty first draft that I can test my SFD resussitating skills on. Also, I now see the benefits of allowing a manuscript to rest for a good amount of time. Because of this, I'm able to look at this 7 month old manuscript with a jaundiced and skilled eye that knows what to fix and how to fix it. Whereas, if I had tried to revise this manuscript a month, or two after I finished it, I probably wouldn't be able to make a (hopeful) masterpiece out of it.

2004-10-01T22:37:00.000-07:00
"What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?"--Robert Schuller

I feel as though this MS--that I is still in the baby stages--might be my point of breakthrough.

Why?

Because this is the first idea/premise/plot that I've had, that I must do tons of research for, that I'm actually having a human villain featured, that I'm being forced to allow my characters to drive the plot, and that I am having to hash and rehash what the bloody story is actually about!

That little fear demon that I keep flicking off of my shoulder keeps trying to climb back and whisper in my ear:

"Don't set it in Egypt, dearie! It's less work if you keep your characters in a setting you are already familiar with. Ignore your fascination with other countries and set this story in London."

"Tsk,tsk. If the plot or the characters aren't coming to you at this moment, just toss this plot away and work on something easier."

"You don't even know what this story is about? Your other stories didn't act this way. I told you, go work on something easy. Say, an independent heroine and a rakish lord in Regency London. That's much easier to write--the plot,setting, and character prototypes are already there for you!"

"This is way too--" SPLAT.

That's the sound of me kicking that demon to the curb. I've never had this much of a problem with a story or characters, and I've never had a story haunt me the way this one is. It refuses to allow me to give up and set it aside, even if I wanted to.

This is forcing me to push aside my idiotic visions of everything coming out perfectly just because I said it should. This is making me remember the incidents in my art career where I shouldn't have given up simply because what came out on paper, wasn't what I saw in my head--on only the first try! I'm an artist, but I am so stupidly stubborn sometimes, that I get hard-headed and obstinate and it ruins the excitement that I formerly had over whatever project I had been planning to work on.

Now I totally get the quote I had put on an earlier post: "Opportunity is missed by most because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."

Some things may come easily, and some things may come at a much harder effort; but quitting because it isn't as easy as I thought it should be is a poor excuse for mediocrite. Each day that I have awoken to write has gotten me to the point that I am at right now. Do I wish I had come to this conclusion earlier? Sure. But every day is a winding road, as Sheryl Crow says. You don't know what's coming around the bend to make you a better person, and I would hate to allow my past mistakes to be the things that caused me to miss my dreams.

2004-09-27T05:56:00.001-07:00
Another Thought:

In the romance genre, the great writers are the ones who sat down to tell a story that was knocking on the door of their heart.

I am having to force myself to forget the labels that have been put on the romane genre: "light", "dark", "tortured", "dark hero/heroine",etc because it distracts me. It sometimes makes me hesitant to want to try and idea out because it's too "dark" or it's too "light", or it's not "dark/light enough". I really don't think that the aforementioned authors sat down at their desks and planned on writing a dark/light/tortured/witty/blahblahblah story that would gain them instant critical praise and acclaim. They sat down and wrote a book about two characters that needed their story to be told.

I have to remind myself of that whenever I feel the inclination of trying to force my style to fit into a label that has put onto romance novels. A "dark" book/author is no better than a "light" book/author--in fact, I really admire authors who either fall in the "middle" of the two spectrums, or those that can write a "dark" book and follow it up with a "light" book.

I have to remind myself that my voice/style is just that: Mine. Trying to force it to fit into industry labels smothers it, and ends up with me either frustrated because a manuscript isn't going the way I wanted it to go, or ends up with me chucking a premise because I'm either afraid that I don't have the ability to do it, or that it doesn't fit where I want it to fit.

To me, a romance is supposed to be about the hero and heroine of the story braving their interior and exterior to have the privledge of falling in love with each other. Whether they be riding beneath the Texas sky, or waltzing through the ballrooms of London, or sailing the seven seas; the story is supposed to be driven by the characters and not by what the author thinks the characters should be like or should do.

2004-09-27T05:10:00.000-07:00
We have one and only one critical job to do in a first chapter. Establish something at stake for the main character and then throw it into jeopardy. Come up with something at stake. -- Dwight Swain

Premises Plotted: 2 out of 4

I hate characters. I swear.

Ok, so over the past three or four days(when I wasn't plotting the other two premises) I've been sketching out this Egypt-set historical romance. I've always had a thing for Archeology and Egypt,Persia,whatever etc,and I had this montage in my mind of a serio-1940's-comedy looping through my head. Everything's fine and dandy.

So, I'm looking at my hero and his background,etc,etc and I discover that he was double-crossed by a trusted colleague on a dig who destroyed his career and credibility. Yadda Yadda Yadda, his character is done. But then, the next day I thought: "well what if that betraying colleague was a woman?" I leave it at that and go back to my hero and heroine.

But then, today, I wake up and my hero's betrayer starts jabbering with my hero in my head and all of the sudden, my original heroine begins to fade. I really hate when things slip from grasp--an idiotic and weird thing for an artistic person to dislike--so I kept trying to push that other woman away and keep a hold on my original heroine--without any success. And that other woman keeps telling me that this is HER story and that the hero belongs to HER.

I'm begging and pleading and scribbling away at the original premise, trying to keep it how I first envisioned it when it is snatched from my hands by the other heroine and the original hero--who agrees with the other heroine.

And dangit! I hate to admit it, but I like these two together alot better than he and the first heroine. But now, now my second heroine and my hero are being reticent and won't tell me their story...all I can glean from them is that they double cross each other, plan to double cross each other, that they are in Egypt, that they are trying to find a treasure, and that the heroine is plotting to manipulate the murderer of her adopted father.

And I have yet to figure out when this book is going to be set. And on top of that, when I write this thing out(and this one is knudging out the other premises for my attention), I am required to do some extensive research.

But in the end, I do love and enjoy my "job"

2004-09-23T18:48:00.000-07:00
Make 'em laugh, make 'em cry, make 'em wait - Dickens

*GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG,etc*

With the main Egypt-set HR I am sketching out, I am breaking so many "taboos" *G* My heroine is half Egyptian & half French as opposed to being half English, my hero is an American, and.....one of the groups of villains is English! ROFL (Now I figure out what year/era the story is set. early vs late Victorian)

Some really inspiring news: Jess Michaels just sold to Avon in a two-book deal!

I also found two more upcoming Avon authors: Shana Galen(a personal "heroine" b/c she writes historicals and chick-lit <---my goal), and Shirley Karr (her upcoming book is Hilarious!)

Not that I'm some sort of unofficial Avon cheerleader, it just seems that they are the house that seems to buy the most new Historical Romance authors.

2004-09-25T20:50:00.000-07:00
Opportunity is missed by most because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.

I'm scared, nervous, excited, apprehensive, confident, unsure, on the verge of passing out and jumping for joy at the same time.

Why? Because I have settled on four premises and am in the midst of plotting them out according to Jane's plotting techniques. I have one down, and three to go. Now that I have this "guide" for plotting my MS's, I am going to re-plot my solicited MS according to this, and I am fairly confident that the structure will help me tie my loose ends together.

But it's scary, and it's making me have to follow Anne Lamott's advice about not being afraid to write a shitty first draft.

2004-09-22T04:21:00.000-07:00
To live a creative life, we must lose our fear of being wrong

I've ceased feeling guilty and apologizing for working on developing a number of story kernals at the same time instead of writing; especially taking in the fact that I am now completely rehauling the way I pre-write.

Pages and pages of handwritten sheets of paper are strewn about my family's apartment(I can't even find some of them *G*) from the past week or so that have tons of character info and scene jots,etc,etc. I haven't written so much by hand in years!

My mind is like a honeybee, it flits from one flower(idea) to the next(idea) near constantly--I especially hate it when an entire scene plays itself out in my head just as I am about to fall ASLEEP!--that I am compelled to write things down or my mind will nag me forever!

I've learned to control it somewhat; not allowing an idea that seems better than the current MS I am working on to make me abandon it--but it's a hard task.

Currently, I have character sheets/plotting sheets for two stories; one set in 1890's Venice and the other 1770s West Indies/England. Four other ideas have also been jotted down and I am in the midst of trying to find a suitable plot and hero for a heroine that popped into my head earlier and reworking an idea I had two months ago--and they're both set in Egypt!! I am obsessed with Archeology and Egyptology and I'm trying to find a way to bring it all together.

Further fueling my imagination is a really great book called Daughters of Brittania: The Lives and Times of Diplomats Wives by Katie Hickman. For a second, as I was reading this, I thought about becoming one(because I would love to travel); but then I remembered that I am afraid of possibly getting blown to pieces by a terrorist...yikes!

You know what my problem is? I love history way too much. Too much to the point that since I am always reading history books, I instantly want to write HR's set in the multitude of eras and places and during historical events I've read about.

And belated (public) congratulations to Cece for getting third place in the First Impressions contest, Marguerite for selling her short story to A Hint of Seduction, and crit group partner Janet & Sylvia for being Brava finalists!