Train Wreck

When a writer sets out to begin a story, they generally have some notion about plot and characters, if not exactly all the details. Of course, there are unexpected changes that crop up. But for the most part, the story proceeds along the original lines.

Until it doesn't.

Back in my early writing days, I planned a little trilogy. It wasn't anything exciting...three sisters who go to Camelot to find husbands among the Knights of the Round Table. On the whole, except for the historical aspects, the idea was pretty basic romance fluff.

I sat down at the computer to rough in the story with a little prologue. My thought was to use the prologue for each of the three stories to tie them together.

Uh-huh.

Well, that didn't work. The moment I set the characters on paper, they seized the story and ran with it. I never got that train back on the track despite my best efforts to wrestle it back in place. No...every time I thought I might have a way to regain control, a new character would pop up, seize a plot point and bat the entire story off in the woods or dunk it down to the dungeons.

Impossible.

Finally, I conceded. My simple idea turned into a wild romp through the halls of Camelot, peopled by offbeat characters and a cast of thousands. Dragons, fairies, firebirds, trolls...no oddity or weirdness was too much.

So that's my story and I'm sticking to it. The characters did it. In a cave. In the woods. In a pond. In the Abbey. Even in Sher Wood Forest. And so on.

Flowers of Camelot. Sexy strangeness galore. Chrysanthemum, Honeysuckle, Daffodil, Magnolia and Larkspur. Or if you prefer print, Carnal Camelot and Lust in Camelot. Available on Wednesday.

anny

Light and Fluffy

Quite a few years ago, another writer asked me to read and comment on a story she'd written. I'd previously read many of her stories, so was a bit taken-aback to find her new story...fluffy. Don't mistake me. It was well written, amusing and interesting. But it wasn't exactly what I was expecting from her. And rather than keeping my mouth shut, I told her that. My comments hurt her feelings. For that I am and always have been sorry.

She pointed out she was going through some bad stuff in her life and just felt like writing something that made her happy. I agreed and life continued, but our relationship was never the same.

Now the shoe is on the other foot. Don't you hate when things come home to roost? I've spent a lot of months writing 'serious' stories. To what purpose? I'm not sure. But I do know I'm tired of it. And now I understand my friend perfectly. I want to write something absurd and silly. Something...light and fluffy.

I used to do that. Perhaps that's where I've gone wrong. It may be I need the relief of light and fluffy to counter the serious and complicated. After all, that's generally how most of us deal with life--with a delicately balanced bit of farce so we can face the dark.

In any case, I've decided it's like swimming. It's not whether it's shallow or deep. The important thing is to get wet. So, I'm off to see whether I'm even capable of writing the absurd. Perhaps I no longer have a comedic sense. Wouldn't that be the ultimate payback?

anny

Why I Write

In this day and age with the current climate in publishing one might ask why I continue to write. Because I can. Because I love creating new characters and new worlds with new critters. Because I enjoy orchestrating new story lines.

See? It's all easy.

Once you eliminate the necessity to make a living at it, you're free to do whatever you want. And then, if someone actually PAYS you for your work...BONUS!

It took me quite a while to edge past that expectation of a money return. Oh, I would like to make a lot of royalties, but so many readers are looking for stories other than the type I write. As long as there are a few out there who enjoy my books, I'll keep muddling through. Sometime in the future, about a hundred years down the road, I'll be required reading.

Until then, like a mad scientist, I'll continue to create characters that dance to my whims.

anny

Lessons From the Pros

In the past few weeks I've read several series by long-time favorite authors. All genres. All lengths. Old stories and new. Here are the things I've learned.

1) There's hope for the first-time author. Chances are our writing will improve. Heh. I re-read the first book by an author I truly love. I confess by the time I reached the last thirty pages I was tired of it. Tired. So I went to the last six pages just to make sure the murderer was caught. That book was interminable. Not so with the rest of them.

2) Series. It's not the number of books in a series that will kill it. It's the total lack of interest on the author's part. If you have to call it in to continue the series, don't bother. Really. You're doing your readers no favors.

3) Stories should have a point. What are you trying to say? Even erotic romance should have a purpose. If your sole purpose is to see how many positions you can use in the least number of pages, that's not romance. That's porn, whether two people are in the bed, or twelve.

4) Conversely, if you're dialing in the sex so you can meet the publisher's guidelines, don't bother. I read a really intriguing little story that was totally ruined by the sex scenes. They could have enhanced the story in so many ways. Instead, they were plodding, miserable interruptions to the story. No author should add an explicit sex scene to a book if the characters truly don't lead the story into the bedroom.

5) Same goes for violence, gunfights, fist fights, car chases, and other ways to stretch the story. Suspense does not equal action. Many times, suspense is much more effective than action. Think about the Hitchcock movies you've watched. He was the master at stretching out the suspense to the snapping point. The active parts were frequently short and sharp. Not interminable!

After all my reading I concluded there's still hope for me. I have a dental appointment today, but on Monday I'll dive back into the writing cave and persevere. Onward.

anny


 

Plot, plot, plot

Usually, when I begin a new book I have a vague idea about the overall plot. Usually. Currently, I'm suffering from a case of brain freeze. Every time I open any of the FOUR wips I'm working on, my brain freezes.

Since my normal mode of working is kaput, I'm trying different ideas. First I'm writing down a list of actions, sort of like one of those charts with all the little arrows. You know--if the hero does "a", then "this" happens; if he does "b", then "that" happens.

Another thing I'm trying it to set the story up similar to a game. I've played a lot of games lately. So the hero sets out on a quest. The quest doesn't have to be a fantasy. Maybe he's trying to find a killer. Anyway, he sets out. He has to go to place "a" to discover a clue...which leads him to place "b" where he'll talk to the old lady who is always looking out her window. She'll tell him something important that will lead him back to the scene of the crime where he'll discover another clue. Yeah, you see my problem.

Then there's the "sticky note" approach. Write one fact on each sticky note and arrange them until you have a story. I don't do well with that. I lose half the notes, knock over the board, get frustrated with the aggravation of it all and stomp off to do the dishes.

Perhaps I should go on a vacation to Peru. Or go visit my friend in Alaska.

Maybe I'll just sit here, hands on keyboard and type. After all that usually works eventually.

How about you? Do you plot?

anny

Leftovers

 

It's the middle of the night--or the middle of the day. You go out to the kitchen, open the fridge and check out the possibilities. It's a positive smorgasbord of leftovers. You didn't plan to have that many containers of odds and ends, but that's just the way it ended up. Now as you open one container after another, you discover you're the proud owner of a refrigerator of spoiled leftovers and you end up cleaning out the fridge instead of eating that snack.

Sometimes (particularly holidays) we plan for leftovers, knowing we'll have extra turkey, ham, or some other hefty roast for future meals. We're careful to package it up and put it in the freezer. But mostly, we don't plan for those extra bits and bites. That's when we end up with the zombie leftovers.

Our writing is sometimes like that. In our exuberance, we end up with extra bits. Some of it's just too good to throw away. So we package it up for reuse somewhere else...and then forget about it. 

Then comes the day when we're rummaging around in our files for something to jumpstart our writing and we discover our zombie leftovers. Should we use them? Or should we toss 'em out? 

My advice? Take a good whiff. Then decide. And if it's a decision to toss? Then do it all the way. Don't just repackage them so they clutter up your storage area. Clean it up. Wipe down the shelves. And start fresh.

Leftovers. Not always ready for prime time.

anny

Chapter One

It's not often that I chuck the entire file for a book and start over. For one thing, even when I embark on deep revisions, I can usually use some part of what I've written. Surely, I can tuck some bit of a scene here and there.

This time...I think not.

For the last week, perhaps more, I've been on a reading jag, plowing through a series I particularly enjoy. Since I've read the books several times before, this time I spent a part of that reading experience analyzing how the author organized, plotted, wove together the stories. What words did she use? How did she reveal the characters?

I've been away from my own book long enough to look at it with more clarity. And this is what I see. I rushed through the first chapter in my haste to get to get to the beginning.

So...if this isn't the beginning of the story, why is it the first chapter? Why isn't it the beginning?

Here's what I've concluded. The first chapter--at least the first several pages--was information I, as the author, needed to know. It's background, unnecessary to the story. And in fact, drags the story to a grinding halt.

So where does the story begin? I'm not sure.

Now it's time for me to look at my own work with the same critical eye I used on the books I've been reading. Now it's time to analyze where I went wrong.

Back to the drawing board. Chapter One.

anny

Indecisions, Indecisions...

One of the questions I'm asked frequently is, "Where do you get your ideas?" The better query might be, "How do you decide which idea to work on?"

It's hard settling on a story idea. I have a proliferation of plot bunnies. But most of them--the vast majority--don't go anywhere. They just huddle in the corners, twitching their noses and wiggling their ears. Unfortunately, I might have to write as much as three or four chapters before I concede that particular rabbit is just not gonna run.

Then it's back to the corner to pick out a new bunny.

Once in a while, I'm seized with a terrific idea that leads to more than one story. Once in a while. Usually, there's an intriguing world attached and that is what makes the ideas come alive.

I've noticed that fewer and fewer books I read really have well developed worlds. They're wallpaper worlds so all the action takes place in a room or two (mostly the bedroom!) so the author really doesn't have to answer simple questions like "What kind of clothes do they wear?" or "What do they eat?"

I digress.

At this moment, I have ten or twelve stories started. One of the difficulties is sex. The market is changing. Publishing is changing. And what publishers wanted six months ago--or a year ago--is not what they apparently want now. Some of the stories were originally aimed at the erotic romance market. Now I need to "scale them back" before I can finish them for a more restrained romance market. And that's just fine. I'm tired of gratuitous sex.

I want a romance. I want commitment. And then I want sex. Love? Yeah, that would be nice, too. But I've also noticed that in many stories the h/h fall in love and suddenly everything is wonderful. All problems are solved. They walk hand in hand into the sunset. Except love doesn't necessarily solve all problems. It might make it more pleasurable to be together. But give me an iron clad commitment that will last through thick or thin and will be a firm foundation to build on. Then we'll talk about love.

Anyway. I'm currently working on book two of the Tuatha Treasures series. Yesterday I edited the first eleven chapters and intended to start chapter twelve today. But in the night, some changes came to me so I suspect I'll delve back into those first eleven chapters. And maybe...maybe I'll end up with enough extra words to make a couple more chapters.

Maybe.

anny

Do you see me now?

Yesterday my beta reader returned Shadows on Stone. I've been re-reading it with her notes in hand. There were no major issues though she pointed out a couple continuity problems-- minor plot lines I started but never wrapped up.

After pondering the possibilities, I started at the beginning. Page one. With a red pen. Several hours later, I'm up to page sixty-six...out of one hundred and eighty two pages. I suspect it will be a while before I finish.

Every author I know will tell you they find cringe-worthy issues if they read their work after a considerable time period has gone by. Then, every error, stupid mistake, awkwardly constructed sentence will leap out at the author, seizing them by the throat and screeching, "Do you see me now?"

You might ask, why doesn't the author set the work aside, then? Why not allow it to simmer on the back burner? I suspect it has something to do with income. Lost income. If the book is sitting on the side, it's not earning money for the author. It's as simple as that. Could it possibly be a better book if it simmered a while? Yeah, probably.

But in the current publishing climate, a book that is sitting only generates a loss of income and a loss of face time. You know what that is--it's the presence of your book cover prominently displayed so your readers remember who you are! In the electronic book market, with zillions of books to choose from, a lull of several months between books can mean the difference between some sales and a lot of sales.

There is a reason some authors seem to be banging out book after book. Every new book places their name out there to remind readers of their books--not just the newest one, but their entire backlist--because in the electronic world, books never go out of print. They're always available.

Unless a writer has an enormous following (J.K Rowling and Nora Roberts, I'm looking at you), he or she will spend an inordinate amount of time battling for that precious face time. It might be on the social media such as Twitter and Facebook. It might be on Amazon, Sony, Fictionwise and other electronic bookstores. But wherever it is, it's more valuable than gold.

No one knows what the magic formula is. Some authors take part in blog tours. Some spam their "friends" on the social media. Some post excerpts from their books--or have special pages for their characters. Whatever they choose to do, none of it matters if the finished book is a hodge-podge of errors, typos, and even in one case, part of a chapter missing.

I could submit Shadows on Stone as is. But now that I am reading it, the occasional typos and errors and odd word choices are screaming. What are they saying?

"Do you see me now?"

anny 

Tuesday Thoughts

The last few days I've vegged out. Can't seem to get the lead out and get to work. It finally dawned on me it was probably my usual late summer/early fall funk brought on by too much rain, too many gray days, a bit of SADS, and not enough moving around.

Part of that is certainly my fault. I chose to sit around. I chose to play endless computer games instead of writing. And I chose to let the world go by. Yep, part of that was avoidance. I confess I'm really not a person who mourns well in a group so in the orgy of remembrance of 9/11, I found other things to do.

But now it's time to get back to work. I've set new goals for myself. Made new plans. We'll see how they go this time.

I'm on Chapter Eleven of Spear from Crazy Woman Cave. That's the middle of the book. Things are coming together. How do you get excited at this point? The middle is where you slog along as a writer. It's probably the toughest and most important part of the book. The middle is where readers will leave if they get bored. It's where all the pieces start fitting together--all the threads become a tapestry.

Yesterday I met two delightful ladies at the swimming pool. I tried to describe the book I'm currently working on and found it's a tough job. That was a bit of a jolt. How am I going to write a synopsis? Or a blurb? Interesting question...

In the meantime, I will persevere. The sun is shining. The weather is cooler. And there are things to do. Have a blessed day.

anny

Writer's Garb

I believe the makers of Snuggies are aiming their advertisements at the wrong demographic group. Snuggies are perfect for the winter author. Think about it. We sit for long periods of time, often in a cool corner of the house (because that's where we can spare room for our office). Since we're not moving around, we tend to get chilly. A snuggie is exactly the thing we need--a blanket with sleeves so we can type!

Instead of commercials portraying people lolling around on the couch, they could show men and women industriously typing away. The snuggie could even have pockets for tissues and pens and other writer paraphernalia. Just think...a snuggie could become the writer's winter uniform.

And colors! We could choose colors according to our current genre. Is your hero a military man? Choose that sexy camo snuggie. You say you're working on shifters? Why that cheetah print is the very thing you need. Firemen? There's absolutely nothing better than a bright red emergency snuggie. And if you're feeling especially girly, well Barbie pink is the very thing for you!

If you're a person who insists on being color-coordinated, there's one for every outfit. Holidays are no problem, either. Spring colors for Easter, red and green for Christmas, blue for Hanukkah and New Years, and orange or black for Halloween. For Valentine's Day, you could even add a bit of lace to the red one.

Hmmm. Where's my snuggie?

anny

Another editor bites the dust...

I recently read a blog/post about the randomness of publishing. Essentially, there's no rhyme or reason in the publishing world. Timing is everything, but what might appear to be good timing, could turn out to be bad. And there's not a darn thing the author can do about it.

In the last year I've had six or seven editors. At three publishers. It would be easy to look at the circumstances and feel like I must be a difficult writer to work with, but the truth is in most cases the editor moved on for reasons that had nothing to do with me. I wasn't even on their radar.

In this most recent case, the editor is "retiring" for health reasons. The fact that we are in the middle of the editing process for the book I have with that publisher is just a sad lonely coincidence. No doubt there are other authors who are also in editing limbo. Taking it personally is not productive.

What to do in the meantime?

As my sister-in-law said, "Keep writing." That, after all, is what I do. While the vagaries of editing and publishing are worked out for that particular book, there are other publishers and editors waiting for other books.

Allowing myself to be paralyzed by the randomness of publishing serves no purpose. So write. Write. Write.

anny

Edits...

The glamorous life of a writer...I'll be back on Monday.

anny

Alien Pitfalls

Over the years I've read quite a few alien stories. Heck, I've even written a couple myself. As I see it, the easiest alien story is one where all the characters and the location are alien. In other words, everything is "not us". In that case, you don't have to decide what the characters know--or don't know (or understand). They'll all be familiar with the same references. Kama Sutra Lovers is this type of story. The book's setting is Elyria and all the characters--at least all the major characters--are natives of Elyria.

In the second type alien story, one of the characters is not native to an alien setting. In this story, the author creates the setting and then observes it through the eyes of the outsider. The Mystic Valley books are stories of this type. Everything is not only unfamiliar to the hero/heroine, but the reader. In many ways, this is the most difficult type alien story to write because the author must convey a strange world, customs, culture while maintaining the personality of the hero/heroine. What will they know/understand and how do they find out about the new world? Some authors may even be tempted to dump information rather than let their character discover that world on their own.

In the third scenario, the alien is on Earth. This presents the problem of determining what the alien knows about Earth and how quickly he/she assimilates. The world is familiar to the reader so the author doesn't have to explain the setting for the reader's sake. However, the author must still be careful when viewing the surroundings through the outsider's eyes.

In the second and third scenarios I also include time travel novels. In Linda Howard's Killing Time, she beautifully addresses this issue when her FBI agent from the future (though well prepared) is continually snagged by idiomatic language differences.

On one hand, it's too simplistic to assume the alien character will understand everything immediately. On the other hand, the story will screech to a halt if the author stops to explain every itty bitty little thing as they go along. I like to assume reasonable intelligence in my aliens and stop occasionally to show them figuring out/asking about a particularly puzzling issue.

The picture at the top of the post is a perfect example of the type of pitfall I think would be interesting, even amusing to have in a story. Perhaps the alien in this case has numerous little horns to hide. What to do? A normal hat wouldn't fit over his head... Or perhaps he's a dragon and must hide his crest. Hmmmm.

What's your favorite alien story?

anny

Where have all my authors gone?

In all the discussion about e-pubbed authors as opposed to print authors, it seems to me that one point hasn't been brought up. That is the way that the authors' voices change when they go to "New York". I've been so terribly disappointed by author after author that I dread hearing the news that another of my favorite authors has a contract with a New York publisher.

Am I the only one who notices the changes?

I could probably name ten authors who have moved on up much to my dismay, not because I don't wish them well, but because I know they're authors that I most likely won't read. Of all my favorite authors that I used to read only one made the transition well. The others have been major disappointments--so major that I won't invest the money to read their books. Gah!

There are some obvious reasons for the changes. New York houses have very stringent guidelines. Uh, that's one of the reasons that I seldom read a mainstream mass market book anymore. Boring... And no, I'm not talking about the sex that might or might not be in the books. I'm talking about the lack of imagination and creativity in the books.

In order to make the stories fit into those rigid lines, they are often edited to the point where there is no trace of the author's original voice. There's nothing to distinguish them from any other Jane Romance Writer. One author has almost pulled it off. She's moved her cast of characters to her new home. But the originals were more vibrant and fun and had wonderful personalities. The current books in the series are darker with a never-ending series of do-or-die life-or-death challenges that quite frankly take most of the interest out of the books.

Maybe this is the new genre. Angsty, dark, prevent-the-end-of-the-world scenarios with the occasional love scene thrown in so they can still be marketed as romances. Ugh. I have enough angst in my life. I don't want to read about demons, vampires, weres, or other critters that go bump in the night unless there's some humor, some lightness, some joy in the story. I'm tired of feeling like I need to carry a flashlight when I'm reading the book.

Things lurk in those murky pages that wait to jump out at you, even when it's a standard romance. They're populated with overbearing CEOs, broody cowboys, rude billionaires, and idiotic professionals. These guys are so blind that the heroines--and I use the term loosely--are able to hide a full term pregnancy from them, only so they can dump the baby on the man's doorstep. Excuse me? I had four babies and trust me, hiding one is not possible. Besides, haven't any of these fellows ever heard of condoms? Oh, yeah, that's right. We don't mention stuff like that in the real world.

Have you noticed that the women are always running from something? Always? And then suddenly when they meet a likely prospect, they quit running? Why?

I spent some time yesterday tootling around on the internet looking for some of the authors that I used to read. Unfortunately some have died. Several have retired. And the rest have sort of faded away to obscurity. I guess they don't fit into the new guidelines either. I finished my searching a little sadder but not much wiser. I'm still not sure where all my authors have gone.

Anny

Don't forget to check in at Kelly's Blog, Amarinda's Place, and Oh Get a Grip! Blessings on your day!

Weird Writing Weekend

I worked most of the day Sunday on my current work in progress. This particular segment was mostly about a kid trying to work out what he wanted to do with his life. In the Mystic Valley youngsters grow up and take on responsibilities early. And in the valley, the standard jobs we think of today aren't part of the culture. There they have choices like weaver, potter, hunter, metal smith, blacksmith, wood cutter, and warrior. So what would you want to be?

In this day and age there are unlimited choices, but in a small valley with no electronic technology, and no medical establishment such as we have now, what occupational choices are there? Surprisingly, there are a lot. Baker, butcher, barterkeeper, archivist, herbalist, healer, mid-wife, teacher, seamstress, gardener, farmer... and many more. But the vast majority of them require strong sturdy bodies and a willingness to work hard.

When I reached the end of my thoughts with that, I worked some on the research for my time travel book. There are a lot of questions still to be answered for that one. My latest queries have been centered around solar and wind power, climate, the requirements for building a log cabin with primitive tools, how to make a bed, how to cook on a hearth, and how to devise a storage cache for raw meat. Oh yeah, how to smoke meat. There have been a couple other things tossed in there for variety... alternatives for toilet paper and sanitary napkins and soap. See? This book will be a potpourri of educational experiences, all duly researched. Now why did I want to write this book? Remind me. All I know is that it isn't all about acorns!

This picture is exactly what the stores looked like when I shopped on Saturday. We hit the Sam's Club, the grocery store, the bank, the wine shop, the mall, and a restaurant. By the time we finally wended our way home, I was beat and feeling a tad crowded. I don't know what everyone else was looking for, but they were all out there in the stores. Everywhere we went there were lines, lines, lines...

I think that I must be ready for it to be spring. The strange thing is here in Baltimore we didn't have much of a winter and yet--I'm ready for sun and warmer temps. I'm ready for green grass and leaves on the trees. I won't demand daffodils or tulips. I'm not greedy. But a bit of green would be nice.

Ashley Ladd tapped me for six random things about me. I'm pretty random to begin with.

1) I collect tiny boxes. (My friend Jane said this should be on my list.) Why? I have no idea. Really.

2) I avoid housework at all cost. Usually, one day a month I get ambitious enough to run around putting stuff away and if absolutely pushed to it, I'll vacuum and then--I'm done.

3) I avoid shopping as much as possible. I don't deal well with crowds. (See paragraphs above about my Saturday.)

4) My second toes on both feet are longer than my other toes.

5) My little fingers on both hands are crooked. It's a family trait.

6) I'm allergic to chicken. Very, very allergic.

That's about as random as I can get. Stop over at Amarinda's Place to see what she's up to. www.amarindajones.blogspot.com and then pop over to Kelly's Blog for her take on American television at www.kkirch.blogspot.com Blessings on your day!

Anny

I'm the best! Or am I?

Of all the difficulties that writers struggle with, I believe problems with self-confidence are the worst. On one hand we must find the confidence to submit our work, the confidence to edit it, the confidence to promote it and yes, even the confidence to let reviewers read it.

But underneath, there is this nagging doubt that maybe we aren't nearly as good as we think we are. Maybe we just have good friends that tell us what we want to hear. Maybe we're just mediocre hacks. That doubt can destroy us.

I know of no author who couldn't be better. Not even the best, top-of-the-heap author is perfect. There is always a phrase that could be better, a place where a different word would be closer to the right word, a story strand that was clumsily woven into the story fabric. Always there is something that could be improved.

Every single book I write is the best I could write at that time. Every book is a learning experience. We write. We learn. We improve. That is true of all life experience. If we choose not to learn, then we don't improve. But as long as we write the best story we are capable of writing then we have no cause for doubt. At that particular time in our lives, we were the best.

That is the thing we must always hold close to us when doubts beset us. Did we do our best? Yes? Then that is all that we can do. The next book will be better as long as we always strive to do our best. It is only when we begin to grow careless with our work, when we don't strive to do the best that we can, that our doubts will have a real basis in fact.

Every one of us has a particular gift. A fellow writer told me that she had read one of my books and she could never write like I do. I'm glad she understands that. It would be a terrible shame if she quit writing in her own style which is a unique voice that gives me much pleasure. Selfishly I hope she never reaches a point when she decides to stop writing.

With enough training, anyone can write a technically correct sentence. But those with the gift can make that sentence sing. For one it will be an opera, for another a lullaby, and for yet another a country and western ballad. It matters not what the song is as long as it speaks to another's heart. That is the essence of writing. We speak to the hearts of our readers. As long as we do that, we are the best.

My dear friend--you speak to my heart every time I read one of your books.

Anny

kelly kirch www.kkirch.blogspot.com
amarinda jones www.amarindajones.blogspot.com

Writing by the seat of your pants

There are generally two styles of writing. One is by plotting (outline, complete plot decided ahead of time) and the other is calling pantsing. Just sit down and write and hope it comes to you as you're going along. In general, I'm a pantster. Oh, I may have a general idea of where the story might end up, but mostly, I don't have a clue.



There are big advantages to both methods. I suspect that the best is a combination of the two but I haven't figured out how to do that. So I say a prayer and hope for the best.



I'm near the end of my current work in progress and have some burning questions to deal with. The bad guys (BG) have a huge military base. The good guys (GG) need to destroy the base. The GG are currently hanging out in an underwater habitat (UH). Haven't figured out how to get them from the UH to the big base. That's one problem.



Problem number two. How are they going to destroy the base?



Problem number three. Should they destroy the base? Or should they take control of the base?



Problem number four. What should I do with the aliens captured by the BG and held prisoner at the base?



Problem number five. What the heck does the BG military base have to do with my GG anyway?



For a book that started out as a sexy book about a trio, somewhere along the way, it blew a tire and ran off the road--as usual--and now I'm wandering around in the rain forest or under water or in the underground tunnels, fighting off giant carnivorous spiders called shadowdancers and undersea creepie crawlies that are a combination of shark and crab--sharcrabs.



Hmmm. See that's the problem with writing by the seat of your pants. Sometimes your rear end gets scorched. I think a need a new pair of pants. My simple story has taken on a life of it's own and turned into one of those never ending choose your adventure computer games.



Note to Editor: So far I only have four "made up" words and a small cast of characters instead of my usual cast of thousands. I need a pat on the back for that accomplishment.



On the other hand, I never ever in my life was able to write from an outline. It usually survived oh... about three paragraphs before it went the way of the dinosaurs and I was diving down dark alleys after characters that were no where in the original plan.



Well, I have to wind this up and get back to the BG at the base. And the GG. And the allies of the GG. Or we could go with that old soap opera standby--it was all a bad dream. Now that has possibilities. Perhaps the Girl in my GG is on some freaky hormone that gives her nightmares.



That's it. It was a baaaaaad dream.



Tune in tomorrow for As the Planet does a Somersault.



Anny



Do you want to win some fantastic holiday reading? If so come celebrate the Twelve days of Romance with 12 authors from Ellora's Cave, Total-E-Bound and Cerridwen Press. Each day beginning December 8th and running through December 19th each one of the twelve authors will leave a clue as to what their "True love gave to them" on either their blog or website.



Participating authors are: Kelly Kirch, Sandra Cox, KZ Snow, Barbara Huffert, Anny Cook, Heather Hiestand, Jacquéline Roth, Cindy Spencer Pape, Bronwyn Green, Brynn Paulin, Lacey Thorn and the Jones girl - Amarinda.



Collect all twelve answers and go into the drawer to win some great books.There will be three lucky winners.



The prizes –1st prize--6 books

2nd prize--4 books

3rd prize--2 books



All books and prize winners will be drawn randomly. For more details visit http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ or http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ or http://www.annycook.blogspot.com/ on December 6th.

For more fun drop by Amarinda's place to see what she's done to the Saga at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ and then roll on over to Kelly's Place to see what she had for us today at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ Blessings on your day!

The True Grit

In the past few months I have come to some conclusions about the weird state of being an author.



1) There is a big difference between writing a book and selling a book. Big difference. If all I had to do was write the book--and here I'm including the followup stuff--editing, blurb, dedication, etc., then I've got that licked. Selling a book on the other hand, is... not nearly as easy as that old "build it and they will come". Nope. People don't spend money on new-fangled things, especially books.



2) You can't please all the people all the time, or some of the time, or for that matter, ever. I had a strange discussion with an acquaintance one day. "I would like to buy your book but it has sex in it." Okay. "What kind of books would you like to read?" "A romance. You know the sexy kind." Picture me clueless. "Uh, that's what I write--sexy romances." "Yeah, but yours have sex in them." Ooookay.



Another acquaintance won't buy the books because they're e-books. So I pointed out that they would eventually be in print. At which point she announced that she didn't buy print books because they take up too much space. Go figure that one out. In other words, she doesn't read.



Just for the record, I write sexy romances that are e-books that eventually will be print books. Glad we got that all straight.



3) There is no way to predict whether or not a book will sell. I'm not alone in this boat. Those NYC editors don't know either. Unfortunately, that doesn't make me feel better. It seems like someone ought to have the magic crystal ball that tells which books will be smash hits and which ones are non-starters right from the get-go. It would save a lot of time and aggravation, not to mention downright embarrassment when your book doesn't sell. Think how much simpler it would be if you could just shrug you shoulders and say "Eh, I didn't expect much because they told me it was a non-starter. But hey! They needed a book to fill out the line and I drew the lucky number." See? No harm, no foul.



4) There should be a union for reviewers with a charter and rules and all that other stuff. Then it might be possible to understand the average book review. Note that I said it might be possible. I don't hold out much hope for that if you want to know the truth. The entire review thing is pretty strange.



There are some authors whose books are reviewed almost before they hit the presses. I suspect that these are the "A" list authors--whether they are print or e-book, straight romance or some kinky genre. Or they're the reviewers best friends, favorite authors, or the review site's sponsors. Take your pick. When you look at the list of new reviews each week, month, or whatever the review site's schedule is and you see the same names reviewed over and over, then it would be hard to draw any other conclusion.



If you are lucky enough to have your book reviewed, then you have to decide how much weight to give to the review. What does it mean? What's the difference between a one and a five? How did the reviewer decide that? What did the reviewer not like? Often a review for a three will read nearly identical to a review for a five. So what's up with that?



Maybe I should quit writing and only review the first book by new authors. That way they would have at least one review. Hmmm. I'll have to think about that one.



5) Popularity contests did not cease to exist in high school. They're still with us. Only now they're called "Best Book" contests. Heh. There's no judging. There's no standards to meet to get on the various lists. All you have to have is a good friend who is willing to nominate you. Then, you gather your five hundred nearest and dearest and ask them to vote for you.



What's that? You say that you don't know five hundred nearest and dearest? Ahhhh, too bad. You lose. The contests are pretty harmless I suppose, unless you take them seriously and truly believe that your book is actually the best book if you win. I think I would rather have people vote with their credit cards. At least there you're on fairly even footing.



6) Writing does not get easier with each new book. It gets harder because you learn more about writing with every book. It doesn't take less time. It takes more time because of all those things you learned writing that last book. You spend more time trying to make sure that you don't repeat past mistakes. You strive to be a better writer with each new book. Think of it as an apprenticeship. In a vague sort of way, it even takes a tiny bit of spontaneity from you because you're conscious of all those old writing habits. Ce la vie.



7) Just because a person is a fellow author, that doesn't mean that they have any horse sense or sensibility, or manners. I have met some with less sense that the average hitching post, many that were rude, pushy, or oblivious, and quite a few that might have "book learning" yet remained abysmally ignorant and bigoted. Blessedly, they are the minority.



Unfortunately, they don't seem to understand that their actions reflect on all of us in the same profession. I could wish that every writer represented our profession proudly with distinction and respect. Writing is an endangered art. If you don't believe me, ask ten friends to write you a letter. Seven out of ten will refuse, but will offer to call you on the telephone. Two will be so illiterate that you can't read it. One will ask for assistance.



So where's the beef? I have none. I chose this profession and I'm proud of what I do. Not many get the opportunity to have a total stranger tell you how much they appreciate something you wrote. That's what makes it worth it in the end.



Anny

So would you like to read a snippet of Traveller's Refuge? Of course you would... In this snippet, Wrenna learns that there are drawbacks to bossing her brother Wolfe around.

She hummed as she spent some time sorting through the extra pots, vases, jugs and dishes she had prepared for sale at the market day. Most years, she made enough barter credits to make up over half her yearly credits. There were three market days per year—spring, summer and fall. Summer market day was the largest and had the most participants. With most of the villages in the valley isolated and far apart, the market days were opportunities to acquire or sell items that were unavailable the rest of the year. Tyger offered fine lengths of cloth. Llyon usually had extra small pots of commonly used salves. Arano and Arturo spent the late winter and spring tanning skins from their trapping. At least they always had until Arturo was attacked earlier this spring.

When she was satisfied that her proposed offerings were the best of her inventory, she set up supplies and prepared to make the deep baking pans Micah the baker had ordered—fifteen round bread pans for the chewy sunflower bread he made, twenty narrow oval pans for the dark pungent wachaz loaves and eight flat baking plates for the flat barbahla bread. The baking dishes were the last of her current orders to be completed and if her schalzina was any indication, it was none too soon. Once Traveller arrived in the valley, they would bond and enter their three moons of seclusion.

She bent over her wheel, absorbed in the intricacies of forming the oval wachaz pans and lost track of time. She jerked back in surprise and squeaked when Wolfe nudged her shoulder. “You startled me! What’s wrong?”

“You will no doubt be thrilled when I inform you that I’ve been assigned as your healer,” he replied sourly.

“What? When did that happen?” She sat back and stared at him in perplexed amazement.

He folded his arms across his bare chest and sighed. “This morning, at my meeting with Dai. At first, I was angry with you, thinking that you told him about my talents,” he admitted softly. “But Dai was very clear that Papa was the one that asked him to talk to me, just as Papa apparently told him about you. Papa wanted him to assess my talent before he spent any more time urging me to apprentice for healing.”

“So, clearly Dai’s verdict is that you are talented. I could have saved him the trouble,” she replied with a shrug. “Who are you apprenticing with?”

“Dai.” His dry, wry tone was eloquent.

“Well. That’s certainly interesting.” She leaned back and stared at him in astonishment. “Dai hasn’t had an apprentice since Llyon. Does that mean you’ll also be a Master Healer?”

“Apparently. When he’s satisfied that I’ve mastered the basics, he’s sending me down to Rebaccah’s Promise to apprentice under Henry.” He shifted uncomfortably under her interested gaze. “Well? Isn’t this what you kept pushing for? Aren’t you happy?”

Getting to her feet, she approached him and wrapped her arms around his waist. At first he held his body stiff and withdrawn but she persisted until he relaxed and returned the hug. “What am I going to do?” he muttered in despair.

“You’re going to be the best you can be. If you’re apprenticing under Henry, then Dai is truly certain that you are a gifted healer. Dai’s never been wrong as long as we’ve known him.” She rested her head against his chest and shivered. “Wolfe, you’re not selfish enough to deprive the valley of your gifts and talents.”

“Yeah, well, you may be sorry. Because the first thing I’m going to recommend is that you begin communication with Trav. You have two days to reach him and open a mind-touch link.” When she would have pulled away, his arms tightened around her shoulders. “Uhn-uh. If you haven’t completed your task by then, Dai said that he will forge a three way link between you, me and himself and then open that triple link with Trav. Consider that before you get all huffy about having your hand forced.”

“Son of a—”

“Don’t go there,” he warned her.

“Sea-biscuit!” She shoved away from him and stalked around the dome, muttering beneath her breath.

“I did tell you several days ago that you needed to reach him.”

“Don’t say ‘I told you so’!”

“Well?”

“Just go away!”

“For now,” he agreed. “But day after tomorrow, we will meet first thing in the morning after breakfast in the treatment room. Don’t be late.”

Don't forget to stop by Amarinda's blog at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ for her take on the Blogga Saga. And then stop by Kelly's blog at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ for her guest author interview.

Power of the pen

In my episode of the blog saga today, Sam finds out how much power a pen can have. We sometimes forget the power of the written word. Writing is both easier and more difficult with technology. Certain things require less thought (like spelling) and because the writer doesn't have to manually look up the word, I think they are less careful about word choice. I have a book called The Synonym Finder by J.I.Rodale. It's a hardback book, six by ten inches and a smidgen over two inches thick. The print is not big so it contains a lot of words. Whatever word you need can be found somewhere in the 1361 pages.

Sometimes I spend considerable time hunting for that particular, exactly right word. I'm kind of picky about words. Words are powerful. They convey shades of meaning. For instance, take the word pill.

Other words for pill--tablet, capsule, pellet, pastille, troche, lozenge, drop, medicine, remedy, cure, drug, medicine... among others. Each of the words conveys slightly different information about a pill.

Or how about red? Crimson, cardinal, carmine, rubescent, claret, scarlet, ruby, vermilion, russet, cherry, maroon, auburn, coral, beet, rose, rusty, brick--and you thought it was just red.

In our rush through life, we don't take time to savor the words, to enjoy the choices the writer has made. That's too bad because more and more writers are "writing down" to their readers. Readers want a light little book to zip through on the subway or in the airport. If it's too much work, then they conveniently leave it behind and go to the next book, devouring them like so many locusts.

A friend of mine is writing a book. She feels that it is too serious. As though everything must be entertaining. We--the reading public--we might not read it because it dares to look at life without making a joke of it. How sad. Are we really that shallow?

The next time you read a book, pay particular attention to the words. Are they all words that your third grader could read? Are the characters one dimensional? Is the dialogue mostly Dick and Jane? I swear I read a book not long ago that was like that. I kept checking the cover to see if there had been a mistake in packaging.

Find a nice thick book and savor it. Take time to enjoy the descriptions, the dialogue, the characters. Take time to enjoy the power of the words.

Anny

Amarinda left us in quite a pickle in the last episode...

With nimble grace the commander pointed his laser umbrella at each victim and dispersed of them in a quick open and shut motion before any of them realized what was happening. “All dead sire. Shall I send in the trolls to clean up?”

Hmm, the trolls. They were quick at cleaning up the dead but their giggles were so annoying. “Yes, but tell them the first one that giggles gets strung up by their nose hair.” That would teach those rodent-like creature to grow it long.

But not everyone was dead. One hardy soul still remained alive trying not to breathe for fear of instant death.“I will live through this and get my revenge,” vowed the survivor.

And now...

While the commander summoned the trolls to clean up, Beaky herded Emmeline and Sam out of the room ahead of him. "What do you think your doing?" She demanded angrily. "You can't just kill people!"

"Actually, I can." Beaky snorted and prodded her in the center of her golden quills. "If you give me too much trouble, you're next."

Sam shrugged. "Hey lady, maybe he has a reason."

"A reason?" Emmeline's voice shot up to a shriek. "What possible reason?"

Beaky poked her again. "Your show has been canceled Miss High and Mighty Warrior Woman. People ain't watching anymore. The Galaxy Network is running Bobbie Jo's Flying Boobies instead."

"They're running a show about flying tits?" Sam asked in confusion.

"No, boobies. Say, where are you from, anyway?"


"Earth?" he replied tentatively.


"Don't you know?"

"Well, sure I know. I'm just confused about what's going on." When Sam waved the pen at Beaky he was stunned when Beaky ducked and jumped behind a chair.

"What are you trying to do?" Beaky bellowed. "Kill us all?"

A faint glimmering of an idea dawned. Sam took out his notebook and clicked the pen. Time stood still as everyone around him held their breath. "If you don't give me the purple box and that umbrella," he said deliberately, "then I will cross you out in my notebook. And you know what that means…"

"No!" Emmeline shoved the purple box toward him. "Anything but that! Take it."

The commander hastily handed over the umbrella. "Sir!"

In a flash of purple smoke Sam was gone…

What will Kelly do? Check out her blog at www.kkirch.blogspot.com and of course then you'll need to hop over to find out what Amarinda is up to at www.amarindajones.blogspot.com