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Gut-Wrenching Romance

This weekend my boss went to Laser Quest with his ten year old son. That’s a weird way to start a blog post about romance, but there it is.

(Fun fact–my first romance novel was inspired by something my boss said.)

The romance doesn’t come from my boss, or his son, or even Laser Quest, really. But those things spurred my thinking.

I’ve played laser tag exactly once in my life. It was a snowy, winter evening in Colorado, and I was a teenager.  A lovelorn teenager, as was typical for me in that time of my life. I don’t remember the game very much. It’s all a blur of shadows and neon, pretzels and Pepsi.

What I do remember is the ride home.

I sat in the back seat. The object of my (at the time) eternal love and devotion sat in the seat directly in front of me. I could see the way his neck sloped into the collar of his jacket, the fringe of blonde hair, his freckles. All of this, so close, just six inches of foam and a million miles away.

Right before I started high school my parents moved to the middle of nowhere. This meant that any kind of activity that involved driving into ‘the city’ inevitably entailed a long car ride, half an hour at least. Throw in snow, and a bunch of teenagers happy to be away from home, and the drive can easily streeeeeetch out.

At some point during this drive, and don’t ask me how because for the life of me I cannot remember, my hand wound up on his shoulder, and his hand wound up on mine.

That’s it, folks.

But for a girl full of butterflies and self-doubt like myself, that touch was a revelation. I survived on the memory of that touch for months, because after that, affection was not very forthcoming from that particular arena. It was the MO of our interactions, from where I stood. A dance that I won’t describe here, and now.

So there I was, this morning, eleven years after the fact, folding hospital gowns, thinking about how cute it was that my boss played laser tag (and schooled the younger kids, apparently) and wham, this memory hits and for a moment I am breathless. I pause. I look around, and consciously reorient myself. Because the emotions attached to that memory were life and death, end of the world stuff.

And isn’t that what being a teenager is about?

I’m revising my YA fantasy novel right now. As I recently told a friend I need more Bad Guy, more Self-Sabotage, and more Romance.

I need more of what I felt, remembering that long winter drive. I need the truth of it, injected into my character’s relationships. And maybe, I’ll let Sydney get what she wants.

At least, for a little while.

Our work needs these intense emotional experiences. Have you been working on anything lately that forces you to face these deeper, possibly buried, emotions?

Photo used under creative commons license from kreg.steppe

 
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Posted by on January 23, 2012 in discovery, writing

 

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On Rejuvenation: NaNoWriMo Day 19

Isn't he handsome?

This Thursday I took a scheduled day off from writing. Not just from writing, but from everything that involved using a computer. For the entire day, my laptop stayed shut, its secrets sealed away while I indulged in all the things that writing 3,000+ words a day leaves little room for.

I read half of a book. Graveminder by Melissa Marr, for those who are interested. I made a yummy breakfast of bacon and eggs (nearly smoking my roommates out in the process). I spent a full hour and a half getting ready for an evening out, which included a nice long shower, carefully chosen clothes and more makeup than I’m used to. (My husband said I was pretty. But he always says that. *grin*)

Then we battled traffic heading into town and dropped into a record store to buy some music. Automatic by VNV Nation and Talk About Body by MEN. (Again, in case you were curious. Also, a note for Le Tigre fans–MEN is front by JD Samson.) After which we headed further south to catch one of only four showings in Seattle of Steve Jobs: A Lost Interview.

This presentation was an interview Steve Jobs gave for Channel Four something or other back in 1995, for an interview series they ran back then. Only a portion of the interview was shown at the time, and then the master tape was promptly lost, and everyone involved assumed the interview would be lost forever. Fast forward to..sometime recently. In a garage, a VHS tae with this interview is discovered, and eventually released into the world.

If you get the chance, go see this interview. Steve Jobs is charming and funny and crazy inspiring. He talks about his motivations behind making Apple products so fantastic, the difficulties he went through when leaving Apple, and why he thinks superlative products can help our country rediscover its culture, among other things. The interview, by the way, took place one year before Jobs’ company was bought by Apple, and he went back to working for the company.

The day, as a whole, was a round success.

I think it is extremely important for people who create to occasionally schedule an entire day away from their creative works. Not an accidental “I didn’t get work done today”, but a real, conscientious effort to put some space there, and then fill that space with things the benefit and enrich. There have been plenty of times when I’ve had a ‘day off’ purely by happenstance. One thing leads to another and suddenly I have no motivation and/or the day is over. Without exception, those days make me feel lethargic, regretful and bored.

My Thursday off, on the other hand, was anything but boring.

We need to feed creativity; it can’t exist in a vacuum. Art, books, music, interactions with people and with the beauty of the world–all of these things serve to pump fuel into the creative engine, giving you more to work with when you do come back to the computer or the page or the easel.

What’s your favorite way to get rejuvenated?

Though I’m sure this isn’t the original source, this photo was used through Creative Commons License from Dekuwa.

 
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Posted by on November 19, 2011 in NaNoWriMo, not writing

 

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What Has Been Done, What is To Come: Week 2

Hoo boy, this has been a weird week, schedule-wise. I had engagements Thursday all day, Friday night and Saturday afternoon/evening. I took Monday evening and early Tuesday afternoon off from writing, to boot. Which, all in all, left me with a tiny amount of writing time available!

All that aside I think I did pretty well.

What Has Been Done

This week we got an idea building assignment. Three diverse pictures, culled from the lands of internet. We were to brainstorm ideas on each picture, moving through, and past cliches to find three original ideas for each prompt.

The prospect of using pictures to form ideas is not new to  me. My story A Kind of Death, which earned an honorable mention from the WotF contest, was prompted by a picture I found on DeviantArt. But using a picture cold like this was different. I’ve always used pictures that have prompted ideas, as opposed to using pictures in order to prompt ideas, so the process was kind of turned on its head. And, using pictures I would not have normally been attracted to, I had to stretch myself a bit to make the good ideas come.

Always good to push yourself beyond your comfort zone. I’ll include the pictures and my favorite idea from each one at the end of this post.

As far as writing this week goes…well, like I mentioned I didn’t give myself much time. I really like my story, and where its going. And I managed to find a reasonable breaking point today, so that I can feel okay going away from it for a while. It definitely is not an unfinished story, necessarily, but I do want to expand upon it. I’ve learned that I need to give myself more time to work with. A couple nights and one morning are not enough.

Also, I learned what a beekeeper is called! An apiculturist. One of my characters is an apiculturist, in a fun turn of events. And he loves Dickinson. He’s a sweetie, I’ll tell you what. No wonder my main character is in love with him.

What is to Come

Merrilee just posted about organization, and I have had my short story file box pulled out and ready to be sorted for nearly two weeks now. Time to get on top of that.

Also, I desperately need to do some edits on *Mystery Project* and get it ready to submit. Seriously, I can’t believe I’ve let it flounder for so long. It needs to be mailed by the 30th!

And story the second is on my plate now. My interest is still dystopian settings, and I will be focusing where education choices are made by the government. I noticed this last week that my focus really ended up being more of a prompt, and I’m betting that theme will continue. The focus of this last story certainly wasn’t on the fact that romantic expression is limited, but it did influence the tone of the story. Maybe I’ll write something with a teacher as the main character…I think that would be an interesting angle. And an angry parent as the antagonist?  Or maybe she is an underground textbook trafficker, and a fellow teacher (or student!) is the antagonist.

Ah, time to brainstorm!

Lastly…

Here are the pictures, followed by my favorite story idea for each.

Great picture, huh? Terribly expressive, even if they do both end up looking like twits.

I got a couple of favorites for this. Hard to choose, so I won’t bother. :) Both are pretty stream of consciousness.

1. The woman has just received the news that she is being excommunicated from her church because the casserole she brought to the potluck had the face of satan cooked into the cheese. She has devoted a lot of time to this church, but the new pastor makes his own way. He’s been looking for a reason to get rid of her anyway, and with the climate of the times being as fearful as it is, he found a good opportunity. Without the protection of the church, she doesn’t know what to do. It is organizations like churches and support groups like AA that keep people safe. Without those mini communities individuals are only prey for–what?

2. He’s dating her much younger daughter–who is he? The mother’s boss. Met the daughter and fell into lust. He’s married, and unapologetic about the whole thing. Mom is furious, because she wants her daughter to marry a doctor and there is no way that’s going to happen if she runs around with this jerk. She keeps her job, and creates an escalating scale of blackmail, eventually culminating in murder. Of who? the boss? Mom? The daughter? The man mom wants her to marry?

This was my favorite picture of the three, and my imagination really took off.

1. These houses serve only as drying houses for a massive marijuana crop. They are far away from most civilization, and while the sea air can be a detriment, many customers have said they can practically taste the ocean in the pot. The houses are a secret, and the crew takes turns living there throughout the year, while they all live there through the winter tending small individual use plants. They have a pact, and a comfortable lifestyle within these limits. Until one of them falls in love. With the daughter of a woman running for president, who vows to legalize marijuana. In the current age, her vote looks good, and she is squeaky clean. The boy truly believes in her cause, that’s how he met the daughter. But if the press pry into his life, and find out that he does something that is still currently illegal, her hopes of being elected will be crushed. And the rotten contender will rush into office.

This one gave me fits. I’m not a real abstract kind of person, so it was difficult getting into this piece. But I managed!

1. A woman who works in a battered woman’s shelter begins to wake up with bruises. At first they aren’t so bad, but they get worse and worse. Who? Woman- abused in a previous relationship, and he got killed in a car accident under dubious circumstances. New boyfriend is a super gentle pushover, who never pressures her into anything she doesn’t practically beg for. She’s missing the excitement of her old boyfriend, the thrill of it. What- her intense desire for the old boyfriend, as well as the guilt that goes along with it, manifests in either a ghost, or a psychological issue where she bruises herself.


 
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Posted by on May 16, 2010 in Creativity Workshop, planning

 

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I Found a Shining Jewel…

Okay, you guys are awesome!

Had a crappy day yesterday. Vented. And got back a wealth of constructive and comforting responses. I just wanted to drop a quick thanks.

So last night I did as I had planned, and took the night off. Watched a movie, finished Shiver, drank two (!) martinis. It was a nice night, I’ll tell ya. Very indulgent.

Then today after work, since I only work until about noon on Tuesdays, I took a nice long hike. Longer than I had anticipated, actually, because I ended up getting lost about three quarters of the way through. No matter, I made it back to my car without being raped OR murdered, so I consider it a win. I know my legs are going to complain tomorrow, but such are the wages of directional sin.

Here’s what I found out: The whole going for a long walk thing? Priceless.

As I was wandering through the undeniably fantastic beauty of the Pacific Northwest in Spring, enjoying the smells and the solitude and the buzz of the bees (which I’m glad were in relative abundance) I stumbled across something beautiful.

My first scene.

Story the first has officially been started, and I’m raring to go. I do have a busy week, with a craft night on Thursday, a romantic dinner on Friday and an all day social/potluck/gathering on Saturday, but I will triumph! Even if it means locking myself in the garage at the social and banging out the last words.

Then rewarding myself with dessert!

 
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Posted by on May 11, 2010 in Creativity Workshop, planning

 

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NPI Word Count Update

Hello!

On this, the first day of the Novel Push Initiative, I wrote a gran total of 287 words. Long day at work means low productivity. But at least I produced something!

Huzzah!

Go check out the other slam dunk babes and heroes joining in this year’s NPI, at the link above.

 
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Posted by on March 1, 2010 in novel push initiative

 

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NPR and NPI- Tiny words.

I let a small opportunity slip through my fingers yesterday. I have mixed feelings about it.

On Valentine’s Day, National Public Radio announced their third annual Three Minute Fiction contest. Simple concept, really. Write a piece of fiction that can be read in three minutes or less. It seems like a cool idea, and well formatted for radio broadcast, where anything longer than three minutes is either a talk show or a classical music piece.

Basically, three minutes computes to about 600 words, according to their rules. Yesterday was the last day entries were being accepted, up until midnight. This gave all serious literary types two weeks to puzzle out a 600 word masterpiece, and shoot it off to NPR.

Now, I don’t listen to NPR. I have a lot of reasons for this, including the fact that listening to the news tends to make me angry. cranky and depressed; and I prefer listening to audio books when I’m in the car. I’m not the kind of person who needs noise filling up my space while at home, either, so it’s never left on a radio around my abode. I lived with someone once who did that.

I like silence.

My lack of listening to NPR meant that I had no idea this contest even existed until Friday, when a well-meaning client came in and told me she’d thought of me when she heard the broadcast about it. Aw, sweet, right? Yeah, it’s the thought that counts.

For this particular ’round’ of the contest, NPR decided to employ a visual prompt for its aspiring writers.

Oh! I thought, as soon as I saw the photo. That…might be…interesting…

And then my brain died.

Because, really? I think that is one of the least stimulating photographs I have ever seen. It looks like a weekly rag, left on a table by someone so bored by the content they didn’t even get to the end, in a nondescript coffee shop, in a nondescript city.

Still, I tried.

First, I started a story about a man who goes into the coffee shop, starts reading the paper, and finds an ad for a prostitute service with his daughter’s phone number on it.

Gag. I don’t want to write about that.

Then I started a story about a man who finds a memorial picture of himself in the paper, and meets Death, or maybe Satan. It felt like slogging through ankle-deep wet newspaper trying to write that, so I never got far enough to find out who the old man really was.

At that point I changed screens to work on my novel, swearing to myself I would get back to it on Sunday.

Which, obviously, I never did. I took a long walk, instead, and planned out three weeks worth of meals.

Much more satisfying.

On another note- This month starts the Novel Push Initiative, hosted this year by Nick Enlowe. A month-long challenge to get your manuscript out of a drawer and into your thoughts. Plus writing! 250+ words per day.

This is a great challenge for me, because, while I can easily pound out over 1,000 words on my off days, I have trouble getting anything written on the days I have full shifts. It always makes me feel really fulfilled when I get off my butt and DO it, though.

There are grace days, which you can earn by writing more than a thousand words on any given day, but I am going to make it a goal not to use any such laxness.

Every.

Single.

Day.

Like a pro.

 
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Posted by on March 1, 2010 in writing

 

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Avast, mateys–A Challenge!

Back in the day, before I wrote my very first novel, I had a hard time writing anything longer than one thousand words. I blame this on a number of factors, such as the fact that I was only writing when ‘inspired’ to do so; that I was lazy about working on one story for longer than a single afternoon, or maybe two; and that I didn’t massage my ideas into something bigger than their initial spark. All of these factors led to measly output, both in story count and in wordcount.

Then NaNoWriMo happened. Say what you will about the infamous annual challenge, I think it is fantastic. The overwhelming majority of the stuiff written during the month of November in relation to Mr. Baty’s brainchild is, I’m sure, absolutley unpublishable. But you know what? The majority of stuff written every other month is unpublishable too! NaNoWriMo provided a jumping off point for me.

You know, like the edge of a cliff?

And that’s exactly how it felt, too. Like diving into the Grand Canyon- scary and awe inspiring and like, at the bottom, I would either transcend myself or end up in a mushy pile. Well, transcendence won out, and I learned that, at the very least, I can write novel length fiction.Truth be told, that first effort wasn’t all that bad, either. Not publishable, but not burnable, either.

Since that fateful November, two years ago, I have found it more and more difficult to write short stories. I’ve fallen in love with the medium of the novel. I like getting to know my characters, my world, in a way that short fiction doesn’t afford. Thing is, though, I want to be good at both. And not just the 10K word novelitas I’ve been writing, when I get a short story out.

Thusly, when I stumbled upon the Ergo Fiction Challenge, it struck me as something delicious to do. There are guidelines, like no longer than 2.5K words, and specific, FUN search terms like dirty sex that must be included in the story. Yeah, sounds like a blast, I think.  Deadline is February 20th, if you’re thinking of entering. Put your writing glove on, and get going!

 
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Posted by on February 15, 2010 in writing

 

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The Ghosts of Papal’s Past

Not sure if today’s blog title actually means what I want it to mean, but I am forsaking strictly correct grammar for the sake of mild alliteration. Bear with me. It won’t be the last time, we can bank on that.

Alliteration aside (har, har) I wanted to share my new discovery!

Yesterday, itching for some kind of physical activity other than walking between the kitchen, my couch, and the dining room, I went online and Googled nearby hiking trails. We’ve had a burst of fantabulous weather over the last month, which started failing about two days ago, and I knew that I had to grab onto the tail end if I wanted to enjoy it at all. I mean, how often do we get sunshine and 55 degrees in February?

So I found a place that sounded pretty cool- St. Edward’s State Park. It has a trail that leads down to the coast of Lake Washington, through wonderful Pacific Northwest foliage and slippery mud trails from the smatterings of rain we’ve had. And as magnificent as I think the natural outdoors are in my chosen homeland, I have to admit that it wasn’t the trees that drew me to this place. It was this:

An abandoned- yes, ABANDONED- seminary.

Holy awesomeness! (Pun sort of intended.)

I’ll let you in on a couple of not-so-secrets, dear reader.

1. I love abandoned buildings. Heck, who doesn’t, right?

2. I am head over heels for all things Catholic. Except for the whole actually being Catholic thing. I never have been, and never will be. But I find the ritualism, the orderliness, the rich symbolism and otherworldliness of my romanticized version of Catholicism to be intoxicating.

So this place, nestled among the trees, was perfect. I want to inhabit these crumbling walls.

I want to say good morning to the stoic stone statues. (Aaahh…say that three times fast.)

*Of which I can find no photos…boo…*

I want to soak up the place, let it run in my veins, and then spill it on the page, full of intrigue and demons and madness. And kissing!

But while I was there, the doors were all locked tight, and bore No Trespassing signs on their pretty, old wood. The parents milling about with kids, and plethora of dog walkers, stayed my itchy hand even further.

But my desire to walk those halls will not be defeated!

Occasionally, park rangers offer tours of the old seminary, and I shall be making prompt contact with those peoples in charge. I hope, by this time next week, to have a date set up with Ye Olde Seminary.

Any favorite abandoned haunts in your neck of the woods?

 
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Posted by on February 10, 2010 in discovery

 

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The Good Stuff

This weekend, on Saturday to be precise, I participated in Write Your @ss Off Day, a day dedicated to working on the story. This couldn’t have come at a better time, since I decided, on Friday, to start over.

From the beginning. Pretty much.

You see, I have a problem with creating boring main characters with an interesting supporting cast. Instead of plugging through with my lackluster MC (sorry Amber) I put on the breaks and threw the kids out of the damn car. No warnings, no threats.

Not only did I replace my main character, though, I replaced her best friend, and the concept of my…erm…third person, whose details I will not divulge here. And all this required some major thought processing.

And, as it turns out, a set of Moleskines. Red ones. Yum.

Thusly, I spent Saturday morning brainstorming in my pretty new book, and Saturday afternoon/evening writing my pretty new book. I’m so happy I’ve made the change. It was a difficult decision to make, though. I didn’t want to give up on Book A, just to chase some shiny rabbit down it’s hole, for no other reason than it being shiny. That kind of thing might fly for a short story, but for a novel? I can’t afford to waste the time.

So I had to ask myself a few questions. Why would I change so many key elements? What would this accomplish? Would this really make it better, or is this just another form of procrastination? Most importantly, though, I asked myself: Will this make me happy? Will NOT doing this make me unhappy? The answer to both of those was a resounding YES. I was already bored with poor, defunct Amber, and enthralled with Hester, she of new MC fame. I wanted to hang out with her. I was making excuses for her to be in scenes where she didn’t really belong. I thought about her all the time. I sent her a note: Will you go to prom with me, mark yes/no…and she sent me back a wicked paper airplane that said Let’s Do This!

So here we are.

And having the permission/expectancy of WY@O Day helped kick me in the…well, you know where, to get this writing moving!

Now, as the weekend draws to a close, I find myself nearing 7,000 words of actual novel content, not counting notes at all. And I keep going back, because I know where I’m going with this story, and I want to see it get there because Efran is going to be so cool!

Oh, shoot. Did I say that out loud?

 
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Posted by on February 7, 2010 in writing

 

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Character Inspiration

*Moving from LiveJournal to Blogger. Older posts can be found at PortraysDeath*

One problem that a lot of beginning writers (and probably a fair amount of experienced writers) run in to is creating characters that aren’t just cleverly tweaked copies of themselves. Or not so cleverly tweaked, depending on the circumstances.Imagine a world peopled entirely by yourself, only one has an eyepatch, one chews bubblegum all the time, and one speaks in a Southern accent. Scary, huh? Well, that’s the world too many people end up in.

The key is to create unique, believable characters that are as different from yourself as your crazy brother is. And how do we do that? Character worksheets, character interviews, character templates…all of these are great tools for discovering motivations, back story, etc. But let’s face it, without material, these things are worthless.

I think the best thing a writer can do for their characters is to go out and meet some. Observe people. Set up post in the mall or a park or on a bench downtown and just watch. Yeah, it may seem a little creepy at first, but get over it. Being a fiction writer is a little creepy. We create entire worlds in our heads and spend hundred of hours transcribing them onto paper. We meet people, fall in love, fall in hate, commit murders, have sex, pet dragons, get pregnant, dye our hair, and on and on…all in our imagination. And then we expect people to give a damn about any of it.

I, personally, revel in the slightly creepy. And the slightly more than slightly creepy, too, if we’re being honest, here.

Anyway, have a seat, pull out your notebook, and start writing things down.

I think of these things as ‘bright spots’. I’ll give you a couple examples, straight from my own tiny notebook.

–A wall made of boulders- half as tall as a man, and twice as wide. What’s hiding in there? Great big gaps, big enough for a newborn.

--Japanese assassin- sent to the shrine to off a man thought to have buried stolen treasure at the abandoned shrine. Finds something else instead.

–Angry girl behind the wheel of a yellow sports car, driving nowhere, fast.

And on and on it goes. I’ve got half a dozen of these little books filled up with things I will likely never look at again. The point of them was to internalize that moment, that idea, that character trait. By internalizing it, making it a part of me, I will have that at the ready when it is time to create a new character or story or setting or scene.

Experience is vitally important to a writer. Not necessarily experiencing all sorts of craziness like bungee jumping or riding in a spaceship. Just getting out there and soaking yourself in the bright, amazingness that is mankind, getting to know how people work and think, is crucial. Without that context, everything else is moot.

 
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Posted by on January 25, 2010 in writing

 

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