Ugh.
I've been writing a lot every day, just not on the novel. It's like I wrote those big scenes and filled in a bit, and then I didn't know where to go from there. Probably just need to recharge and think about it. So I've been working on the vignette thingie I did for the LiveJam contest on writing.com. At least I'm writing.
I may post some of it here, just for laughs. Maybe.
10 December 2007
03 December 2007
Daily Goal
I'm not so hot at keeping goals, but this is one I must. I need/want to write 1,000 words at the very minimum every day. Yesterday I wrote 1300 words (yay!) but today it will be a little more difficult. I've written a bit here and there, but since I just finished the big scene with Cassidy and her mother, and then with Cassidy and Joel (still needs some tweaking), I have to do some thinking. That's where the other stuff comes in handy, the Dream On bits and pieces that I probably won't ever finish but it gives me practice and gets me into Joel's head. That can be kind of a problem, though, me knowing him so very well that sometimes when I'm writing, I forget that the reader knows nothing about why Joel's family left KC, or how he feels about his brother and why it's hard for him to trust. He's an interesting character, but I wish Cassidy was half as interesting. The characters with all the problems seem to be the most interesting. Must be all the drama.
27 November 2007
I Know How It's Going To End!
Yay!! I received some extremely helpful feedback for my book today. I am excited about it today, plus I know how it will end.
Some things I need to change/work on/add:
1. the Talk between Cassidy and her mother
2. Cassidy needs to lighten up
3. Joel needs to talk more
4. Show more of Derek's problems
5. Physical description of Jenny and Allan
6. More setting and description (ugh)
7. Show Joel's feelings for Cass
8. Tentative renewal of friendship b/w Cass and Janie
So now I'm excited and I know for sure it isn't crap and that's a wonderful feeling! Still waiting for feedback from the rest of my writing group, so we will see.
I will finish this thing and see it in print!!
Some things I need to change/work on/add:
1. the Talk between Cassidy and her mother
2. Cassidy needs to lighten up
3. Joel needs to talk more
4. Show more of Derek's problems
5. Physical description of Jenny and Allan
6. More setting and description (ugh)
7. Show Joel's feelings for Cass
8. Tentative renewal of friendship b/w Cass and Janie
So now I'm excited and I know for sure it isn't crap and that's a wonderful feeling! Still waiting for feedback from the rest of my writing group, so we will see.
I will finish this thing and see it in print!!
20 November 2007
The Big O
For so long the desire to write has been missing. Now, though, there's this urge, this urgent feeling inside of me that is only soothed by my fingers on the keyboard. And then the feeling changes to one of satisfaction, of knowing that this is what I'm supposed to be doing. My mind, no, my entire being fills with the knowledge that yes, I am writing again and it feels so right, so good, so wonderful. And I wonder how I could have gone for so long without the therapy words avail me, without the sheer joy I get when it all comes together into a cohesive and coherent story. I think it's the best thing in the world.The only thing better would be seeing my name on the dust jacket of a novel. Right now, I can see that happening. I read an interview where Richard Z. Kruspe compares creating music with orgasm and I'm going to have to agree that any sort of creative process gives that feeling.
26 October 2007
Exercise 3---POV
I have to preface this by saying that I do not think switching POVs in a scene without chapter breaks works, no matter what that 'expert' in Writer's Digest says. It smacks of amateur. It reeks. I just got done reading a middle grade novel with five characters and mutiple POVs. It was in third person, and it did work, but I didn't like it. It was very noticable. Maybe not as clunky as a lot of stories like that are, but it did clunk a bit. That is my biggest petpeeve when I review on Writing.com, and probably the main reason I don't review much. There's just too much crapola out there.
EXERCISE 3---POV
Five years. That’s how long it’s been. Five years during which I tried to get on with my life, tried to forget the past. I’ve decided that it’s impossible to forget, and nearly impossible to forgive. I like to think I’ve forgiven him, that I can at least offer him that, but I’m not sure. Ever since his mother told me his release date, I’ve been one big mass of confusion.
Now, though, now I’m going to see him. The thought makes my stomach clench, but whether in nervousness or excitement I’m not sure.
“I can’t believe you’re going through with this,” Mom said last night. “I just can’t understand it. Why? After what he did to our family, this should be the last thing you want to do.” She pressed her lips together. “I thought you’d forgotten about him.”
“I tried,” I said, but I don’t think she believed me. I did try, no matter what she thinks.
A blue sedan turns down the street, and I know it’s him. I have no idea what his reaction will be. I haven’t spoken to him since the day of the accident. The last time I saw him was at the sentencing, and that was such a horrible experience I’ve done my best to forget that whole day.
I wonder if he kept the letters I sent, letters full of words I can’t even remember now. He never answered, so eventually I stopped writing. I guess he forgot about me. Or wanted to.
Why am I here? Why am I waiting to see him when I should be home studying for my exam in the morning? I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.
The sedan pulls into the driveway, rocks crunching beneath the tires. I’m standing beneath the elm tree in the yard, frozen, paralyzed, nauseated. The leaves rustle above my head, normally a comforting sound, now only annoying and distracting. Marcy gives me a little wave through the window, her face tight and distressed. I know she doesn’t want me here.
The passenger door opens and my breath catches a little. I see his head first, that blonde hair so short now, and then all of him as he straightens and shuts the door.
He walks around the front of the car, and now he sees me, and he stops. I can’t move, unable to look away from those green eyes. I can’t breathe. All I can see is him.
“Joey,” Marcy says, shooting me an unfriendly glance. “Come on inside. I know you’re tired.”
Ignoring her, he shakes off her hand and walks toward me. The expression on his face—oh, God. I don’t think I can do this.
I turn away, pressing my forehead into the rough tree bark.
I can’t believe she’s here. I must be dreaming. I have to be dreaming. I stare at her auburn hair, shiny against the back of her green shirt. I want to touch it. I want to feel it slide through my fingers, want to—stop. Shut up. Just shut up. Shut up. It’s been five years. Five years since I spoke her name. Since I touched her. Since I killed her brother.
I have to swallow hard to keep from puking. There’s too many memories here. I clench my fists, forgetting the letters I’m holding. Her letters, the only things that kept me from going nuts in that hole. I’d read them over and over, until her words were etched into my mind.
My hand reaches out to brush the back of her arm. That’s it. That’s all I can do. The feel of her skin burns me with memories I’ve spent five years trying to bury.
She turns around slowly, so that bit by bit I see her face. Fear nearly chokes me. What if she hates me? I don’t think—oh, shit, she’s crying.
“I can’t do this. I can’t.” She doesn’t move, though, just scrubs a hand across her eyes as if angry. That’s ok. Anger I can do. Anger’s what I’m all about.
I need to say something, but I can’t. It’s like my jaw’s locked. So I hold out the letters, hoping that will speak for me. Her expression goes from puzzlement to understanding in an instant. More tears slide down her cheeks and she sniffs noisily.
“You…you saved them? I thought…” she trails off, biting her lip. I’m still holding out the letters like an idiot, and eventually she takes them, carefully not touching me.
I know what she thought. And I did try to forget her, I really did. But she’d crept beneath my skin. She’s still there, crawling to the surface.
“I know,” I say, feeling like a jerk. “I’m sorry, Cass.” God. Are there any other words as worthless as those? I am sorry. I’ve been sorry since I woke up in the hospital and Mom told me Derek was dead.
I wonder what she’s thinking, staring at the letters clutched in her hand.
If I keep my eyes on the letters, I won’t have to look at him. His feet move closer, swishing through the overgrown grass. My arm brushes against the tree, scratching my skin.
“I’m sorry, Cass,” he says, sending a shiver down my neck. Mom was right: I should never have come, should never have seen him. Because now that I have, all I want is to feel his arms around me again. I want—I want him again.
Finally I raise my head, trying to remember to breathe. I see the past in his green eyes, in the set of his shoulders. There’s a hard cast to his mouth now, and a jagged scar across his cheekbone. I want to kiss the hardness away until only the softness remains. I want to erase the hurt and the regret from his face and bring back the boy I used to love.
“I know you are,” I say softly, stretching out my hand to him. When he hesitates, I try to smile. “It’s okay, Joel. I…I forgive you.” Saying the words is easy—too easy. Can forgiveness really be so simple? I pray it is.
For a second he only stares at me, as if he can’t believe it. Our hands touch, fingers twining together, and then he pulls me into his arms.
“Cass, oh, God, Cass,” he mumbles into my hair, holding me tight against him.
I slide my hands around his waist, press my ear against his chest so that all I hear is the beating of his heart.
**I'm not sure about the last scene. Should keep it when i post this in HWG? Or just the first 2?
Plus, I'm worried that last part is too....melodramatic or something. oh well.
EXERCISE 3---POV
Five years. That’s how long it’s been. Five years during which I tried to get on with my life, tried to forget the past. I’ve decided that it’s impossible to forget, and nearly impossible to forgive. I like to think I’ve forgiven him, that I can at least offer him that, but I’m not sure. Ever since his mother told me his release date, I’ve been one big mass of confusion.
Now, though, now I’m going to see him. The thought makes my stomach clench, but whether in nervousness or excitement I’m not sure.
“I can’t believe you’re going through with this,” Mom said last night. “I just can’t understand it. Why? After what he did to our family, this should be the last thing you want to do.” She pressed her lips together. “I thought you’d forgotten about him.”
“I tried,” I said, but I don’t think she believed me. I did try, no matter what she thinks.
A blue sedan turns down the street, and I know it’s him. I have no idea what his reaction will be. I haven’t spoken to him since the day of the accident. The last time I saw him was at the sentencing, and that was such a horrible experience I’ve done my best to forget that whole day.
I wonder if he kept the letters I sent, letters full of words I can’t even remember now. He never answered, so eventually I stopped writing. I guess he forgot about me. Or wanted to.
Why am I here? Why am I waiting to see him when I should be home studying for my exam in the morning? I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.
The sedan pulls into the driveway, rocks crunching beneath the tires. I’m standing beneath the elm tree in the yard, frozen, paralyzed, nauseated. The leaves rustle above my head, normally a comforting sound, now only annoying and distracting. Marcy gives me a little wave through the window, her face tight and distressed. I know she doesn’t want me here.
The passenger door opens and my breath catches a little. I see his head first, that blonde hair so short now, and then all of him as he straightens and shuts the door.
He walks around the front of the car, and now he sees me, and he stops. I can’t move, unable to look away from those green eyes. I can’t breathe. All I can see is him.
“Joey,” Marcy says, shooting me an unfriendly glance. “Come on inside. I know you’re tired.”
Ignoring her, he shakes off her hand and walks toward me. The expression on his face—oh, God. I don’t think I can do this.
I turn away, pressing my forehead into the rough tree bark.
I can’t believe she’s here. I must be dreaming. I have to be dreaming. I stare at her auburn hair, shiny against the back of her green shirt. I want to touch it. I want to feel it slide through my fingers, want to—stop. Shut up. Just shut up. Shut up. It’s been five years. Five years since I spoke her name. Since I touched her. Since I killed her brother.
I have to swallow hard to keep from puking. There’s too many memories here. I clench my fists, forgetting the letters I’m holding. Her letters, the only things that kept me from going nuts in that hole. I’d read them over and over, until her words were etched into my mind.
My hand reaches out to brush the back of her arm. That’s it. That’s all I can do. The feel of her skin burns me with memories I’ve spent five years trying to bury.
She turns around slowly, so that bit by bit I see her face. Fear nearly chokes me. What if she hates me? I don’t think—oh, shit, she’s crying.
“I can’t do this. I can’t.” She doesn’t move, though, just scrubs a hand across her eyes as if angry. That’s ok. Anger I can do. Anger’s what I’m all about.
I need to say something, but I can’t. It’s like my jaw’s locked. So I hold out the letters, hoping that will speak for me. Her expression goes from puzzlement to understanding in an instant. More tears slide down her cheeks and she sniffs noisily.
“You…you saved them? I thought…” she trails off, biting her lip. I’m still holding out the letters like an idiot, and eventually she takes them, carefully not touching me.
I know what she thought. And I did try to forget her, I really did. But she’d crept beneath my skin. She’s still there, crawling to the surface.
“I know,” I say, feeling like a jerk. “I’m sorry, Cass.” God. Are there any other words as worthless as those? I am sorry. I’ve been sorry since I woke up in the hospital and Mom told me Derek was dead.
I wonder what she’s thinking, staring at the letters clutched in her hand.
If I keep my eyes on the letters, I won’t have to look at him. His feet move closer, swishing through the overgrown grass. My arm brushes against the tree, scratching my skin.
“I’m sorry, Cass,” he says, sending a shiver down my neck. Mom was right: I should never have come, should never have seen him. Because now that I have, all I want is to feel his arms around me again. I want—I want him again.
Finally I raise my head, trying to remember to breathe. I see the past in his green eyes, in the set of his shoulders. There’s a hard cast to his mouth now, and a jagged scar across his cheekbone. I want to kiss the hardness away until only the softness remains. I want to erase the hurt and the regret from his face and bring back the boy I used to love.
“I know you are,” I say softly, stretching out my hand to him. When he hesitates, I try to smile. “It’s okay, Joel. I…I forgive you.” Saying the words is easy—too easy. Can forgiveness really be so simple? I pray it is.
For a second he only stares at me, as if he can’t believe it. Our hands touch, fingers twining together, and then he pulls me into his arms.
“Cass, oh, God, Cass,” he mumbles into my hair, holding me tight against him.
I slide my hands around his waist, press my ear against his chest so that all I hear is the beating of his heart.
**I'm not sure about the last scene. Should keep it when i post this in HWG? Or just the first 2?
Plus, I'm worried that last part is too....melodramatic or something. oh well.
25 October 2007
No NaNo For Me
No NaNoWriMo for Wendopolis this year. Why? Because I've got to finish "Only You" and I am determined to do so. Taking 30 days off to whip out 50,000 words of shite wont' help me, it will only hinder.
That being said, must get butt in gear.
That being said, must get butt in gear.
24 October 2007
Why do I have to be professional when they're not?
Here's the deal: I submitted a story to an online magazine, Aberrant Dreams, February 26 of this year. Their guidelines state the response time as being 1-5 months. Ok, I'm down with that. So why is it nearly eight months now and I've not heard a word? I've queried as to the status of my submission and gotten no response. Is that professional? I'm thinking not. So my options are to keep waiting or formally withdraw my story and subbing it elsewhere. Am I wrong to be annoyed by this? Yeah, yeah, they get lots of subs, etc, yadda yadda yadda. Fine. But why does that make it okay to jerk me and I'm sure others around? I keep checking ralan.com just in case there's anything about response times for the mag, but nada so far.
Grrrr.
Grrrr.
Exercise 1 and 2
Recently I've begun participating in a group workshop on writing.com. We've begun doing writing exercises, and they've been quite helpful. The first one I didn't do so hot, but the second I did much better:
Exercise 1: Sensory
A sweaty arm brushed against Melanie’s, slicking her skin with alien liquid. She jerked away, only to plunge face-first into a humid forest of chest hair.
“Oh my God,” she muttered, pushing hard with both hands. Curses clanged in her ears as she bounced off more bodies, finally coming to a rest against a wall in the corner. The familiar strains of one of her favorite songs filled the venue, sending shivers down on her. If only she could see!
Gathering her courage, she shoved bodies out of her way, getting punches and curses and once even a squeeze in return. It didn’t matter, though; she had to get closer, had to be in the front. Once he saw her, everything would just fall into place, as it was meant to be.
Stephan began singing, and her urgency increased. It had to be this song. If she didn’t make it up front where he could see her, then all would be lost. But an impenetrable wall of flesh blocked her every move. Tears pricked her eyes as she struggled to breathe in the hot, smoke-filled air.
Then she fell to the filthy floor and began crawling through legs, determined to achieve her goal. A boot crunched down on her hand, another jabbed her leg. Her knee came down in a cold puddle of something she didn’t want to think about, and still more legs, more bodies, more obstacles.
Crying, nose dripping, filthy from head to toe, one questing hand found the way clear as the music became almost unbearably loud. The stage! She’d made it. Now to get Stephan’s attention…
Hands gripped her arms and began dragging her backwards.
“Uh-uh, missy,” a rough voice growled in her ear. “You’re getting too close.”
“Stephan! Stephan! It’s me, Melanie!” She screamed and screamed, clawing at the hands, until the music faded away.
Exercise 2: Character
Melanie leaned against the grimy brick wall, cradling her hand against her chest. She could barely move her fingers, and they hurt like the devil. God, she was such a mess. Brown stains covered her black dress, and there was something that looked like puke ground into the laces of one boot.
But she didn’t care. She was going to see Stephan, talk to him, make him understand that they belonged together. If only she’d been able to reach the stage and get his attention, she sure as shit wouldn’t be standing in an alley behind the Bottleneck, waiting for the concert to end. Concert. What a joke. A stinky, smelly bar with room for only fifty people? That wasn’t a concert, it was a party. A party she’d been kicked out of.
Fuming, she paced back and forth, trying to ignore the way her boots rubbed against her heels. Hot Topic hadn’t carried her size, but she’d bought them anyway, who cared if they were half a size too small? They were kick ass boots that laced clear up to her knees.
The steel door clanged open, making her jump. If it was one of those sonofabitching body guards—
It was Stephan. For a second she couldn’t move, transfixed by the sight of him after so long. He twisted open a bottle of water and took a drink. His hair was black now, instead of the dirty blonde color it was last time. It suited him, she thought.
It was now or never.
“Stephan,” she said, stepping out of the shadows. He jerked, spilling the water on his shirt.
“What the hell?”
“It’s me. Melanie.” He just stared at her blankly. “The Granada? Two years ago?” It never entered her mind that he wouldn’t remember. “You invited me back to your room, remember? You said I was sweet and—” She stopped, feeling like a fool. “Never mind,” she said, turning away.
“Wait a minute. Did you have long brown hair?”
“Yes,” Melanie said slowly, a small spark of hope igniting.
“I remember you now. Yeah, the girl who jumped up on stage and sang ‘Unicorn’ with me, right?” He smiled
“That was me. I wanted to sing with you tonight, but it didn’t work out.” She glanced down at her ruined clothes and shrugged.
“You look different.” Stephan moved closer, making her heart thump. “Your hair’s so short now.” He touched her messy do. “No wonder I didn’t recognize you.”
“So what do you think? Do you like the way I look now?” Melanie held her breath while his eyes studied her from head to toe. He folded his arms, frowning a little.
“The boots are kick ass,” he said finally. “But really, Melanie, you look all the other groupies now, with the tight black dress, black eyeliner, piercings. The reason I liked you so much before was because you were different, with your jeans and long hair and cute top. You stood out from all the other girls.”
Melanie’s eyes stung. She’d done all this for him, thinking he’d like it. “I was so boring,” she said in a small voice. “Ordinary.”
“Sometimes ordinary’s a good thing,” Stephan said, offering her a small smile.
“I guess.” She bit her lip. “You look a lot different, too. The hair, mostly.”
He made a face. “Yeah, the hair, the hair, it’s always the hair.”
“You’ve lost weight, too,” she said, liking his new thinness, wondering what it would feel like to hug him. To kiss him again.
“Well, damn, was I that much of a porker before?” His dark brows came down over his eyes, a petulant cast to his mouth.
“Of course not,” she said quickly, putting her hand on his arm. “You looked great then, you look great now, Stephan. I—I wish…”
The door banged open, and a heavyset guy stuck his head out. Music blared, light spilled out, hurting her eyes.
“Stephan, whatchu doin, man? Everybody’s lookin for you.”
“I’ll be in soon, Dave,” Stephan said, waving him off. Dave glanced at Melanie and smirked before going back inside.
Stephan sighed. “One more concert tomorrow night, and that’s it for awhile. I am so tired.” He loosened his skull-printed tie, sighing again.
“It must get lonely on the road,” Melanie ventured, sliding her hand up his arm, liking the way his skin felt against hers. A shiver went down her spine as she remembered the night they’d spent together before.
“Sometimes,” he agreed, moving away. She dropped her hand, flushing. He didn’t want her. Well, she’d make him want her.
“I—I thought maybe we could get a drink after the show. Catch up a little, you know.” Melanie gave him what she hoped was a sultry smile.
Stephan smiled ruefully. “I can’t, Melanie,” he said, capping the bottle.
“Why not? Don’t you like me? You used to like me a lot.”
“I’m married.”
She stared at him. “What did you say?” she whispered.
“I got married about nine months ago.” He glanced at his watch. “I better get back inside. It was great seeing you again, Melanie.”
“Sure, Stephan,” she mumbled, turning away so she didn’t have to see him leave.
Married?
God, she was such a fool. Brushing a tear from her cheek, she stumbled down the alley to the sidewalk and started walking.
Exercise 1: Sensory
A sweaty arm brushed against Melanie’s, slicking her skin with alien liquid. She jerked away, only to plunge face-first into a humid forest of chest hair.
“Oh my God,” she muttered, pushing hard with both hands. Curses clanged in her ears as she bounced off more bodies, finally coming to a rest against a wall in the corner. The familiar strains of one of her favorite songs filled the venue, sending shivers down on her. If only she could see!
Gathering her courage, she shoved bodies out of her way, getting punches and curses and once even a squeeze in return. It didn’t matter, though; she had to get closer, had to be in the front. Once he saw her, everything would just fall into place, as it was meant to be.
Stephan began singing, and her urgency increased. It had to be this song. If she didn’t make it up front where he could see her, then all would be lost. But an impenetrable wall of flesh blocked her every move. Tears pricked her eyes as she struggled to breathe in the hot, smoke-filled air.
Then she fell to the filthy floor and began crawling through legs, determined to achieve her goal. A boot crunched down on her hand, another jabbed her leg. Her knee came down in a cold puddle of something she didn’t want to think about, and still more legs, more bodies, more obstacles.
Crying, nose dripping, filthy from head to toe, one questing hand found the way clear as the music became almost unbearably loud. The stage! She’d made it. Now to get Stephan’s attention…
Hands gripped her arms and began dragging her backwards.
“Uh-uh, missy,” a rough voice growled in her ear. “You’re getting too close.”
“Stephan! Stephan! It’s me, Melanie!” She screamed and screamed, clawing at the hands, until the music faded away.
Exercise 2: Character
Melanie leaned against the grimy brick wall, cradling her hand against her chest. She could barely move her fingers, and they hurt like the devil. God, she was such a mess. Brown stains covered her black dress, and there was something that looked like puke ground into the laces of one boot.
But she didn’t care. She was going to see Stephan, talk to him, make him understand that they belonged together. If only she’d been able to reach the stage and get his attention, she sure as shit wouldn’t be standing in an alley behind the Bottleneck, waiting for the concert to end. Concert. What a joke. A stinky, smelly bar with room for only fifty people? That wasn’t a concert, it was a party. A party she’d been kicked out of.
Fuming, she paced back and forth, trying to ignore the way her boots rubbed against her heels. Hot Topic hadn’t carried her size, but she’d bought them anyway, who cared if they were half a size too small? They were kick ass boots that laced clear up to her knees.
The steel door clanged open, making her jump. If it was one of those sonofabitching body guards—
It was Stephan. For a second she couldn’t move, transfixed by the sight of him after so long. He twisted open a bottle of water and took a drink. His hair was black now, instead of the dirty blonde color it was last time. It suited him, she thought.
It was now or never.
“Stephan,” she said, stepping out of the shadows. He jerked, spilling the water on his shirt.
“What the hell?”
“It’s me. Melanie.” He just stared at her blankly. “The Granada? Two years ago?” It never entered her mind that he wouldn’t remember. “You invited me back to your room, remember? You said I was sweet and—” She stopped, feeling like a fool. “Never mind,” she said, turning away.
“Wait a minute. Did you have long brown hair?”
“Yes,” Melanie said slowly, a small spark of hope igniting.
“I remember you now. Yeah, the girl who jumped up on stage and sang ‘Unicorn’ with me, right?” He smiled
“That was me. I wanted to sing with you tonight, but it didn’t work out.” She glanced down at her ruined clothes and shrugged.
“You look different.” Stephan moved closer, making her heart thump. “Your hair’s so short now.” He touched her messy do. “No wonder I didn’t recognize you.”
“So what do you think? Do you like the way I look now?” Melanie held her breath while his eyes studied her from head to toe. He folded his arms, frowning a little.
“The boots are kick ass,” he said finally. “But really, Melanie, you look all the other groupies now, with the tight black dress, black eyeliner, piercings. The reason I liked you so much before was because you were different, with your jeans and long hair and cute top. You stood out from all the other girls.”
Melanie’s eyes stung. She’d done all this for him, thinking he’d like it. “I was so boring,” she said in a small voice. “Ordinary.”
“Sometimes ordinary’s a good thing,” Stephan said, offering her a small smile.
“I guess.” She bit her lip. “You look a lot different, too. The hair, mostly.”
He made a face. “Yeah, the hair, the hair, it’s always the hair.”
“You’ve lost weight, too,” she said, liking his new thinness, wondering what it would feel like to hug him. To kiss him again.
“Well, damn, was I that much of a porker before?” His dark brows came down over his eyes, a petulant cast to his mouth.
“Of course not,” she said quickly, putting her hand on his arm. “You looked great then, you look great now, Stephan. I—I wish…”
The door banged open, and a heavyset guy stuck his head out. Music blared, light spilled out, hurting her eyes.
“Stephan, whatchu doin, man? Everybody’s lookin for you.”
“I’ll be in soon, Dave,” Stephan said, waving him off. Dave glanced at Melanie and smirked before going back inside.
Stephan sighed. “One more concert tomorrow night, and that’s it for awhile. I am so tired.” He loosened his skull-printed tie, sighing again.
“It must get lonely on the road,” Melanie ventured, sliding her hand up his arm, liking the way his skin felt against hers. A shiver went down her spine as she remembered the night they’d spent together before.
“Sometimes,” he agreed, moving away. She dropped her hand, flushing. He didn’t want her. Well, she’d make him want her.
“I—I thought maybe we could get a drink after the show. Catch up a little, you know.” Melanie gave him what she hoped was a sultry smile.
Stephan smiled ruefully. “I can’t, Melanie,” he said, capping the bottle.
“Why not? Don’t you like me? You used to like me a lot.”
“I’m married.”
She stared at him. “What did you say?” she whispered.
“I got married about nine months ago.” He glanced at his watch. “I better get back inside. It was great seeing you again, Melanie.”
“Sure, Stephan,” she mumbled, turning away so she didn’t have to see him leave.
Married?
God, she was such a fool. Brushing a tear from her cheek, she stumbled down the alley to the sidewalk and started walking.
09 October 2007
NaNoWriMo
I guess I'm going to do it this year again. I'm not real sure what I'm going to write on, and that's not a good thing at all. I do have several ideas, though, but nothing firm as yet.
Idea #1: write a series of short stories using song titles as a springboard
Idea #2: blast out a very rough draft of the fantasy novel hubby and I've been talking about
Idea #3: write about Billy the Kid
Idea #4: expand 'Dragonfly'
so......of the four, #1 and #2 sound the most plausible. I like the idea of Billy the Kid, but that's probably more of a short story. #4 was my first idea a few months ago. I'm not liking it that much.
so we will see...
Idea #1: write a series of short stories using song titles as a springboard
Idea #2: blast out a very rough draft of the fantasy novel hubby and I've been talking about
Idea #3: write about Billy the Kid
Idea #4: expand 'Dragonfly'
so......of the four, #1 and #2 sound the most plausible. I like the idea of Billy the Kid, but that's probably more of a short story. #4 was my first idea a few months ago. I'm not liking it that much.
so we will see...
07 October 2007
writing crap
I looked over that novella I wrote last month, A Tangled Web, and omg it totally sucks. it is SOOO bad. but, hey, i was writing. That counts for a lot. I mean, if I waited and only wrote something good, geeze, I'd never write anything at all. I guess in order to create something good you have to give yourself permission to write crap.
I think I've had that permission for quite a while.
I think I've had that permission for quite a while.
27 September 2007
whoops!
I almost forgot about this thing! Obviously, since it's been like 2 months. So, you ask, how's the writing been going?
Glad you asked! It's going pretty good. I wrote a complete (yay!) short story, The Demise of Peter Pan, and finished a novella. Now I am back to Only You, doing some editing and trying to figure out how to add more words. :-) Most people have a probem being verbose; I seem to have the opposite problem.
anyhoo, that's all for now.
Glad you asked! It's going pretty good. I wrote a complete (yay!) short story, The Demise of Peter Pan, and finished a novella. Now I am back to Only You, doing some editing and trying to figure out how to add more words. :-) Most people have a probem being verbose; I seem to have the opposite problem.
anyhoo, that's all for now.
07 July 2007
Over 10,000 words
Yes, that's right! I wrote over 10,000 words in June! Go, me!!!
This 500 words a day group is really helping me write regularly.
I've started working on 'Only You' again; it's going pretty well at the moment. Derek's problems are becoming apparent to Cassie, her dad has moved out of the house, her feelings for Joel are intensifying, and a renewed friendship with Janie is on the horizon. I just thought of that last point earlier today. I think Tommy Marco will dump Janie for whatever reason, and so will Imelda and that group. Janie will be on the outside, and at first Cassie is glad she's getting a taste of her own medicine, but Cassie's mean spiritedness won't last very long, and she'll extend an olive branch.
As for the Joel thing...it's getting there. I want to show his relationship with his parents, his intense anger, his feelings for her...plus, Rich and his friends are going to jump him one night as he walks home from Cassie's house. Audra causes more problems, and Cassie will realize that Audra is a person, not just someone to hate. I think I need to put Craig Hopper in a bit, probably at youth group.
It is SO nice to finally be over the bump.
This 500 words a day group is really helping me write regularly.
I've started working on 'Only You' again; it's going pretty well at the moment. Derek's problems are becoming apparent to Cassie, her dad has moved out of the house, her feelings for Joel are intensifying, and a renewed friendship with Janie is on the horizon. I just thought of that last point earlier today. I think Tommy Marco will dump Janie for whatever reason, and so will Imelda and that group. Janie will be on the outside, and at first Cassie is glad she's getting a taste of her own medicine, but Cassie's mean spiritedness won't last very long, and she'll extend an olive branch.
As for the Joel thing...it's getting there. I want to show his relationship with his parents, his intense anger, his feelings for her...plus, Rich and his friends are going to jump him one night as he walks home from Cassie's house. Audra causes more problems, and Cassie will realize that Audra is a person, not just someone to hate. I think I need to put Craig Hopper in a bit, probably at youth group.
It is SO nice to finally be over the bump.
28 June 2007
been awhile
It's been a month and a half since I updated this. In that time, I have:
1. deleted blog on Writing.com
2. created a journal, Harmonizer, on Writing.com
3. written 500 words nearly every day in my book, songs hidden in eggs, on Writing.com
4. started a story about two lovers caught in their own miseries
5. written 2 flash fiction pieces
6. whined about 'Only You' numerous times
7. listened to lots of music my husband thinks is weird (see video links on side)
8. traveled to Kansas and back (with Toto)
I guess that's it. Whee, so exciting!
1. deleted blog on Writing.com
2. created a journal, Harmonizer, on Writing.com
3. written 500 words nearly every day in my book, songs hidden in eggs, on Writing.com
4. started a story about two lovers caught in their own miseries
5. written 2 flash fiction pieces
6. whined about 'Only You' numerous times
7. listened to lots of music my husband thinks is weird (see video links on side)
8. traveled to Kansas and back (with Toto)
I guess that's it. Whee, so exciting!
03 May 2007
Laaaazy!
I have been so lazy this last week. Crit not finished. MUST do that! I guess I'm dragging my feet because it's hard work. And I'm lazy. :) It's not that I don't like the story, because I do. So, must get butt in gear.
Need to start flash for the seventeenth. "They were all sworn to secrecy" is the starting sentence.
Plus, haven't even worked on 'Only You' . AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!1
Need to start flash for the seventeenth. "They were all sworn to secrecy" is the starting sentence.
Plus, haven't even worked on 'Only You' . AAARRRGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!1
30 April 2007
2 Goals Met
--Tom Granger's Hand--(finished 4/30)
--Lip-Smacking Monkeys--(finished 4/25)
That still leaves the crit, which I hope to finish tonight. maybe.
--Lip-Smacking Monkeys--(finished 4/25)
That still leaves the crit, which I hope to finish tonight. maybe.
18 April 2007
The End Could Be in Sight
Maybe. I've been working on the 2nd draft of 'Dream On', which takes place after Joel's return to whatever the name of the town is. Topeka, I guess. It appears to be gearing up for an emotional confrontation with his father, who is in the hospital after suffering a heart attack. It might be too quick, though, but the important thing is to get it down, and then I can go back and add all the rest of the stuff. Maybe even combine 'Only You' with it. Who knows? All I know is that I need to finish this story, because these characters won't leave me alone. I think about them all the time, imagining what they will do next, etc.
~need to finish 'Glory Hand' and think of a different name by the end of the month.
~need to print off GOR's story and start crit, to be done by end of month.
~must write 500 words every day
~must finish 'Lip-Smacking Monkeys' by next Thursday
~need to finish 'Glory Hand' and think of a different name by the end of the month.
~need to print off GOR's story and start crit, to be done by end of month.
~must write 500 words every day
~must finish 'Lip-Smacking Monkeys' by next Thursday
14 April 2007
ohmygosh My character has a theme song!
i've been listening to this song by apoptygma berzerk, "unicorn" and today I looked up the lyrics.
"You hold the candle I once lit
You shine your light
When you forgive I cry
You run your fingers through my hair
And tell me it´s worthwhile,
it´s all worthwhile
Even when I hate myself
Even when I feel your pain
when you cry
Even when my heart is cold
You assure me it´s worthwhile,
it´s all worthwhile
You see what can´t be seen
You repair the damage done to me.."
And the tune....wow. The song is Joel, all his pain and angst and sorrow and hopelessness. Yet there's that little bit of hope, that tiny bit of light shining from her...which would be Cassie. This song is their relationship.
12 April 2007
Now I Think I'll Try This!
Geeze. Now I'm thinking of going back to my original version of 'Only You' because I like Joel so much better. And Cassie, too, I guess. So I will combine the 2 versions and keep what I like from both. Besides, the first version is 40,000 words! Gotta be some good stuff in there, dontcha think?
Today I printed off 'Waiting For August' from my port on Writing.com. Ugh. My gosh, and to think I once thought it was good. Or at least okay. I'm looking at it today, going 'Yech!' It does have potential, this is true, and it is only a first draft, so maybe I'm being unfair. After all, I wrote it three years ago. I know my writing's improved since then.
'Waiting For August' is the story of Mel, a teenage girl who has been told by her mother all her life that her twin brother died at birth. After being dumped on a grandmother whom she's never met for a week, she discovers a mysterious scrapbook in a closet. Inside are pictures of Mel as a baby--and the brother she was told died. Determined to get to the bottom of the mystery, Mel embarks on a journey for the truth--a truth she may not want to know.
See? Potential. There's a bit of romance and a subplot about mothers and daughters, too.
Not a bad little blurb there. I'm not sure I can compress 'Only You' into a paragraph, although I have been trying. I will have to work on it.
Today I printed off 'Waiting For August' from my port on Writing.com. Ugh. My gosh, and to think I once thought it was good. Or at least okay. I'm looking at it today, going 'Yech!' It does have potential, this is true, and it is only a first draft, so maybe I'm being unfair. After all, I wrote it three years ago. I know my writing's improved since then.
'Waiting For August' is the story of Mel, a teenage girl who has been told by her mother all her life that her twin brother died at birth. After being dumped on a grandmother whom she's never met for a week, she discovers a mysterious scrapbook in a closet. Inside are pictures of Mel as a baby--and the brother she was told died. Determined to get to the bottom of the mystery, Mel embarks on a journey for the truth--a truth she may not want to know.
See? Potential. There's a bit of romance and a subplot about mothers and daughters, too.
Not a bad little blurb there. I'm not sure I can compress 'Only You' into a paragraph, although I have been trying. I will have to work on it.
11 April 2007
A Possible Solution
I'm going to try starting 'Only You' right at the main action--the car accident in which a character dies due to the actions of another. I'm hoping this will work. Before I was starting totally from scratch with Cassie's developing relationship with Joel, but that was going so slowly. Now I can start with them already having discovered their feelings for each other. I'm still not sure if Joel will be newly to town or a childhood friend of Derek's. Both scenarios have potential subplots to move the plot along, but I think having Joel well known to both Cassie and her family will work best.
I will not be presenting 'Only You' to my writing group; I won't let the girls read it either. I need some privacy to make this work. I can't do the story justice if I have to worry about the language and/or actions of my characters. Yes, yes, I know, one shouldn't worry about such things as a writer, but I still do.
The main thing is to get the story down, start to finish, and then worry about making sense and having all ends tied up, etc. Gotta tie up that internal editor and throw him in the basement. That is difficult sometimes. I read once about an author who writes and rewrites the same 500-600 words until they are perfect before moving on. I dont' think that is something I could do. Okay, I do it a little bit, you know, go back and edit something, but I try not to. It's detrimental to getting the story down. That has to be my main focus, to get the bare bones down and into some sort of cohesive and comprehensible story.
I will not be presenting 'Only You' to my writing group; I won't let the girls read it either. I need some privacy to make this work. I can't do the story justice if I have to worry about the language and/or actions of my characters. Yes, yes, I know, one shouldn't worry about such things as a writer, but I still do.
The main thing is to get the story down, start to finish, and then worry about making sense and having all ends tied up, etc. Gotta tie up that internal editor and throw him in the basement. That is difficult sometimes. I read once about an author who writes and rewrites the same 500-600 words until they are perfect before moving on. I dont' think that is something I could do. Okay, I do it a little bit, you know, go back and edit something, but I try not to. It's detrimental to getting the story down. That has to be my main focus, to get the bare bones down and into some sort of cohesive and comprehensible story.
10 April 2007
A Snag
Ugh. I should have known this would happen. It was going way too smoothly. 10k into 'Only You' (working title) and I can't get into Cassie's head. Argh. So I'm trying the multiple POV thing, but that's not that easy, either. Discouragement and frustration loom. Just once in my life I'd like to finish this damn story! There are so many different versions of this thing that I think I will go absolutely nutters if I can't develop it into a comprehensible story! I mean, CRAP!!!!!!!
But I can't give up. There's a story and there is a way to make it work. I will keep persevering, keep plugging away, keep writing crap until it happens. I just hope I won't be 96 before it does!
But I can't give up. There's a story and there is a way to make it work. I will keep persevering, keep plugging away, keep writing crap until it happens. I just hope I won't be 96 before it does!
07 April 2007
Birdsong
I will find birdsong
I will find you
Beneath a tree
Beside the flowers
In the garden
So peaceful and light
I will find birdsong
I will find you
I will find you
Beneath a tree
Beside the flowers
In the garden
So peaceful and light
I will find birdsong
I will find you
This definitely drives home the point that I am NOT a poet, although I kind of like it. 'Birdsong' speaks to me somehow, reminding me of one of my characters. It's a word rife with emotion.
26 February 2007
Olde English Bulldogges
We raise Olde English Bulldogges. No, not those wimpy English bulldogs that have so many health problems, but the ones that hearken back to the bulldogs of old. We plan to have our first breeding the next time one of our females goes into heat, probably this summer. We have two males, Hammer and Loki, and two females, Pandora and Halo. You can see pictures of them on our website, www.warhammerkennels.com.
OEBs are healthy, goodlooking, friendly, protective and strong-willed. It is imperative that there be an alpha, because after all, dogs aren't kids and if the human won't take the lead, they will, and that's not a good thing for either one. They are athletic and just really great dogs. But don't take my word for it. Do some research before deciding an OEB is the dog for you.
OEBs are healthy, goodlooking, friendly, protective and strong-willed. It is imperative that there be an alpha, because after all, dogs aren't kids and if the human won't take the lead, they will, and that's not a good thing for either one. They are athletic and just really great dogs. But don't take my word for it. Do some research before deciding an OEB is the dog for you.
22 February 2007
Bibliography
Oh books
Lovely books!
1. Summer of My German Soldier--Bette Greene. Absorbing, tragic, heartbreaking, hopeful...
2. The Outsiders--S.E. Hinton. Ponyboy, Johnny, Dallas, Cherry Valance, Sodapop, Darry, Steve, Socs and Greasers...what a great book!
3. Dragondoom---Dennis McKiernan. Forbidden love, dragons, dwarves and humans. Great storytelling even though the author's other books suck.
4. The Wheel of Time--Robert Jordan. The most fantastic series of fantasy books ever. Unfortunately he is ill with a rare disease. Will he finish? Only God knows.
5. The Outsider--Penelope Williams. A tale of forbidden love between Amish widow Rachel and gunslinger Johnny Cain.
Lovely books!
1. Summer of My German Soldier--Bette Greene. Absorbing, tragic, heartbreaking, hopeful...
2. The Outsiders--S.E. Hinton. Ponyboy, Johnny, Dallas, Cherry Valance, Sodapop, Darry, Steve, Socs and Greasers...what a great book!
3. Dragondoom---Dennis McKiernan. Forbidden love, dragons, dwarves and humans. Great storytelling even though the author's other books suck.
4. The Wheel of Time--Robert Jordan. The most fantastic series of fantasy books ever. Unfortunately he is ill with a rare disease. Will he finish? Only God knows.
5. The Outsider--Penelope Williams. A tale of forbidden love between Amish widow Rachel and gunslinger Johnny Cain.
6. It--Stephen King. His scariest. Pennywise will change the way you look at clowns and storm drains.
7. Jacob Have I Loved--Katherine Paterson. Story of twins, one 'perfect' and the other left out.
8. Black Beauty--Anna Sewell. Sad, gripping story of Beauty and Ginger.
9. To Kill A Mockingbird--Harper Lee. If you only have one book in you, then write one like this.
10. The Witch of Blackbird Pond--____________. Story of intolerance and hope, with a bit of romance thrown in. Kat is a lively character.
Of course I have many, many favorite books,more than I can possibly list here.
18 February 2007
A Writer's Soundtrack
If your writing life were a soundtrack, what would it be? What songs or albums would be on the list, and why?
My list changes all the time. And now, in no particular order....
1. See You--Depeche Mode. Meaningful lyrics that inspired a short story and ultimately the characters of Cassie and Joel.
2. Long Gone Long--Rainmakers. Song about a small town and goings on therein. 'Older than I used to be/younger than I'm gonna be/fewer things puzzle me than when I was young'. Oh, yeah.
3. Adagio--Barber. Moving piece of music. Soundtrack to Platoon. Everytime I hear it I see Sgt. Elias running from the Viet Cong only to be shot.
4. Zauberschloss--In Strict Confidence. Song by a German band sung in German. Zauberschloss translates by google into 'charm closed' but actually means 'magic castle'. I like the beat and the way Dennis Ostermann growls the lyrics. That he's hot really has nothing to do with the fact that I like this band. Really.
5. Lithium--Evanescence. Love this gal's voice. It's so full of angst and emotion and it's beautiful.
6. Breathe--Erasure. Beautiful lyrics, and Andy Bell's voice is fantastic.
7. Once in a Lifetime--Wolfsheim. This song surprised me when I read the lyrics. It's a rant against God, apparently, in which the lyricist states: 'You took my wife, my unborn son/torn into the deep of the ocean' among other emotional statements. The song ends with : 'And I'm not scared of you.' Powerful stuff.
8. Cocaine Blues--Johnny Cash. I enjoy songs that tell a story, and this is a good one!
9. World in My Eyes--Depeche Mode. Sexy and full of innuendo. It just oozes sex.
10. Deeper Than the Usual Feeling--Beborn Beton. Another German band. This song laments the loss of a love who didn't share the deep feelings as the lyricist and I believe she kills herself.
This list is different than one I wrote a month ago. I think next I will write a bibliography.
My list changes all the time. And now, in no particular order....
1. See You--Depeche Mode. Meaningful lyrics that inspired a short story and ultimately the characters of Cassie and Joel.
2. Long Gone Long--Rainmakers. Song about a small town and goings on therein. 'Older than I used to be/younger than I'm gonna be/fewer things puzzle me than when I was young'. Oh, yeah.
3. Adagio--Barber. Moving piece of music. Soundtrack to Platoon. Everytime I hear it I see Sgt. Elias running from the Viet Cong only to be shot.
4. Zauberschloss--In Strict Confidence. Song by a German band sung in German. Zauberschloss translates by google into 'charm closed' but actually means 'magic castle'. I like the beat and the way Dennis Ostermann growls the lyrics. That he's hot really has nothing to do with the fact that I like this band. Really.
5. Lithium--Evanescence. Love this gal's voice. It's so full of angst and emotion and it's beautiful.
6. Breathe--Erasure. Beautiful lyrics, and Andy Bell's voice is fantastic.
7. Once in a Lifetime--Wolfsheim. This song surprised me when I read the lyrics. It's a rant against God, apparently, in which the lyricist states: 'You took my wife, my unborn son/torn into the deep of the ocean' among other emotional statements. The song ends with : 'And I'm not scared of you.' Powerful stuff.
8. Cocaine Blues--Johnny Cash. I enjoy songs that tell a story, and this is a good one!
9. World in My Eyes--Depeche Mode. Sexy and full of innuendo. It just oozes sex.
10. Deeper Than the Usual Feeling--Beborn Beton. Another German band. This song laments the loss of a love who didn't share the deep feelings as the lyricist and I believe she kills herself.
This list is different than one I wrote a month ago. I think next I will write a bibliography.
15 February 2007
Subject matter can be a problem
Why? You'd think someone who claims to be a writer (and yes, I've been published) would just be overflowing with ideas. Not so. It seems to occur in spurts. My muse is a fickle bitch, and now she'll probably jet out of here again because I called her a name. That's okay, though. She'll be back. And I'll have an idea of what to write about again.
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