I really have fantastic friends.

These pictures were drawn by David Webb. They are so incredibly accurate with my vision of Will and Victoria, I had to share them with you.

Thank you again to David! You are my favourite person!

Beyond annoyed.

So as I was on Twitter earlier I found a link through Nathan Bransford. It was an article about how the Harry Potter movies were better than the books.

The-article-that-should-not-be-named.


I rarely comment on such garbage, but this article annoyed me to no end. Below is my response.

This was obviously a great attempt at trying to generate traffic by inciting Harry Potter fans only days before the final movie is released. Congratulations! You succeeded.  And as much as I wanted to just ignore this article and not comment, it has annoyed me since I first read it, so I am back to add in my two cents.

I am a fan of the movies because I love the books. I overlook the giant plot holes in the movies because as a fan of the series, I know the things that are being missed. The movies are visually stunning and lots of fun to watch, but they can't even begin to compare to the heart that drives the books forward.

This comment "Harry himself remained stuck in the whiny, adolescent act two of his story, storming away from the Order of the Phoenix because he can’t come to terms with being important." made me laugh out loud. Do you remember being a teenager?

At the time of Order of the Phoenix, Harry is 15 years old and he'd just lost his godfather. The man who was best friends with his father. The man who could have helped him escape the horrors of his Aunt's house. With the loss of Sirius, Harry lost yet another connection to his parents who he never had a chance to know. And you thought a normal 15 year old grieving boy would just accept the fact that he is important? That he'd accept the fact that if Sirius weren't protecting him, he never would have been killed? Really? His reaction may not have been right but it was one of the many things that made me adore these stories. She made us feel his pain with that temper tantrum of his, she made us care that much more about him. She made him seem even more real.

And despite what you suggested, he does grow through the stories. By the end, he gives his life willingly in order to defeat Voldemort. It was a selfless and mature reaction, one that he likely wouldn't have done if he'd not gone through the loss of Sirius and the loss of Dumbledore. He gave his life in order to save so many others. Not exactly the reaction of a whiny adolescent, is it?

The movies were wonderful, but they were wonderful because they had a brilliant series as their basis. The books were the heart. They were what captured the hearts and imaginations of millions and the movies cashed in on that.

Edit: My friend, Jessi has a fantastic rebuttal to this article on her blog

I should be sleeping.

But instead, I am busy creating my new world. I am obsessed at the moment. Maps, descriptions, rules and just general tidbits of information are flowing onto the page. My characters are beginning to take shape in my head and the plot (though still just a basic outline) is starting to take form. Right now, it's the world that I am focusing on.

Originally it was going to be Earth, a few hundred years after a nuclear war had completely decimated the planet, but the more I worked on the world, the more I realized that it had to be a new world all together. And once I made that decision, the floodgates opened and I have so many pages of information. Most I will likely never need, but I have this intense need to write it all down in case I do need it some day. I have never done anything of this scale before so I am kind of going overboard, I'm sure.

One thing that I've done that I'm actually quite proud of is that I am actually creating what I refer to as my 'bible' for this world. I have it all sectioned off into different areas - world, characters, plots, etc. And I have everything (even the post it note map I made when this all came to me) tucked in there. What I am hoping is, that as I write this story - which is tentatively being called Hallow City, I will have any info I need right at my fingertips.

Like I said, this is all new to me, so I figure it's better to be over prepared for this story. The best part of it though, is that the world is feeling more and more real to me as I work on this. I can see the cities, the forests, the creatures, everything is coming together that will, hopefully, make it easy to slip into this world once I start working.

Fingers crossed that that is true.

So this is what madness feels like.

I was watching TV the other night, minding my own business, when a commercial came on and I was suddenly inspired. I suddenly had this entire new world forming in my mind. So, in the middle of the night, by the light of the TV I grabbed the closest paper and pen that I could find (a sharpie marker and post it notes) and began to jot down ideas and a very rough map of this new world.

And now I am completely focussed on this new world. I had no plot, no characters, nothing but a badly drawn map and a thousand ideas for this new civilization.

Last night I set to work redrawing the map, and as I was doing that the main character stepped up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. She basically said here I am and here's your plot. (yes I know exactly how crazy this all sounds)

Suddenly I began to realize who my characters were and the plot began to take shape. More notes, maps and character information started filling up the notebook I was sketching in. I now have a dozen pages of information on this new world that was created because of a ridiculous TV commercial.

Though I have to say, I am ridiculously excited by this plot and these characters. I am planning on starting to write some of it today. I have a thousand other things I should be writing but this one has all of my attention at the moment. So I am going with it.

What's the weirdest place you've gotten inspiration from?

Well, I've done it. I've sent out a few query letters to my top three agent choices. I am not quite sure if I should be excited, happy, scared or completely panic stricken so to err on the side of caution, I am a delightful combination of all of the above. 

How is it possible that clicking that tiny send button can cause such a rush of fear and excitement?

The three ladies that I sent my query to are brilliant and talented and if any of them chose to represent me I'd definitely consider myself lucky. (No I'm not mentioning names at this time) So maybe that's contributing to my nerves.

My mind is  a mess. I know that rejection is a part of the process and I'm absolutely ready for that. In fact, I'm kind of feeling zen bout the whole rejection thing. I've realized that I will get rejected and if I couldn't handle that then this would not be an industry that I'd want to be a part of.

Each rejection is just  another step closer to finding that one yes that I need to get Scarlet published. I'm paying my dues and it is an inevitable part of my path.

Yet somehow, sending these three letters off has filled me with such dread and worry. I think it's because of who it is. These are my top choices. After months of pouring everything into this story (my heart, my soul, my sanity) and then the even harder task of editing, I spent weeks searching, researching and (yes I will admit it) cyber stalking the different agents.

It was a daunting task. There were a lot of names that caught my attention - over 30 agents made my first list. Then through a series of research sessions I managed to whittle that list down to the top 8. And from them - these three seemed to feel right for Scarlet.

And the logic behind this selection process was sketchy at best. At first, it was smart decisions. Double checking the agents I'd chosen against Preditors and editors and the Absolutely Write forums. Any agent that didn't make the grade, got the boot.

Then researching the agency websites to make sure that the Agents represented the Y/A historical genre that Scarlet is. A few more agents got knocked off the list.

Then my attention was turned to the social media - Twitter, blogs and facebook. I was suddenly stalking agents anywhere online that I could find them. This is where I made my final selections. Not based on anything more than the personalities that I could see through tweets and blog posts. I could myself sitting down for a cup of coffee with these ladies. I know that tweets and blogs are not a clear indication of  who a person is, but its a start. And it's all I had to go with, so I did.

And now here I am. I'm waiting impatiently, even though I've only sent the letters out 8 hours ago. Not expecting rejection, but prepared for it. Not expecting a positive answer but hoping for it.

You know, if this keeps up the next time I send out a few letters, I may need to be fitted for a lovely straight jacket before too long.

The Joys of Editing

I finally buckled down to begin what I hope is my final round of edits for Scarlet. (I'll likely continue to edit and tweak it until I can sell it but well, let's stay optimistic here.)

I knew that this round would be the toughest, but tonight was brutal. I sat down with the notes, comments, and corrections from my group of fabulous readers and my latest copy of Scarlet then I went nuts. I literally pulled apart the entire first chapter and put it back together. The first page  has exactly four sentences that are the same before I started this process tonight. Everything else has been edited, rewritten or changed.

Not that it was bad before. It was alright. Okay. Average.  I wanted better than that. I want to get Scarlet published. It's been my dream for so long to become a published author and with Scarlet, I have a tale that I think that there is a possibility. Hopefully I can make that dream a reality. If nothing else, I want to give it my best effort.

I'm not deluding myself into thinking that this will be easy. Not by a long shot. I am completely aware of how tough the competition is out there and just how difficult it will be just to get an agent to read my story. And I know that I likely have a mountain of rejection letters to wade through before I get there. Yet part of me has to remain hopeful. If I lose that spark of hope, what's the point in even trying? I might as well go back to tucking my stories onto the top shelf of my closet.

So instead, I have to push myself through this round of edits. I need to work harder on this novel than I've ever done before on a story. I am not afraid to shred my tale and piece it back together. Not if that's what it's going to take to make this story shine. Every comment I've received from my readers is being looked at carefully. And I have to say that I have some amazing girls reading for me. Their comments are tough, smart and for the most part, right. They've seemed to pick up on the little things that I had missed during my last round of edits and things that I didn't even realize needed fixing.

As I read through my edited version of Chapter 1 tonight, (outloud to my dogs - who looked at me like I was slightly mad) I was able to kick my self doubt to the curb.I'm sure it will be back with a vengence as I wait to hear from agents but for now, I am proud of what I have done with this crazy little story. Even if it never sees the light of day, I am pleased with how it has turned out.

So this turned out to be more of a pep talk to myself rather than any type of blog that makes sense, but that's okay. Sometimes a self-motivating talk is important.

Especially when I know that I have 20 more chapters to go.

Common courtesy... a thing of the past?

This post really has nothing to do with writing but I'm annoyed so where better to vent than here!

When exactly did common decency and kindness to our fellow human beings become a thing of myth?  It's not even December yet and the behaviour of the people in stores is horrendous. 

I went to get groceries today and it started before I even entered the store. As I went to grab a cart, I paused for a minute to rummage in my pocket for a quarter and the lady behind me sighed heavily. As though my two second pause was the most inconvenient thing that she had ever encountered in her life. So, in an effort to be polite, I smiled and stepped aside to let her into the one row of carts that I'd been blocking. She walked past the other two rows of carts to get at them and actually huffed as she stormed away.

Ok, someone was having a bad day, I thought. And I went ahead got my cart and made my way to the doors. It was then that the little old lady ran across the parking lot and darted into the door ahead of me. The had the gall to scowl at me when I skidded to a stop so that I would run into her.

So, two people in a row in a bad mood.... ok, it happens. It soon became apparent that it wasn't just those two. In fact, I was quick to realize that I had obviously woken up in a parallel universe where it was the norm to be angry, impatient and rude. And I was clearly out of place. I was cut off, people left carts blocking off aisles and wander off, and people were bitching at the staff. I was shocked and appalled.

Somehow I managed to get my groceries at record speed and get the hell out of there. Then I saw it. The simple act of kindness that stood out against the rudeness of the entire hour that I was there. An older lady got her groceries loaded into the cab and when the driver went to put the cart back for her and retrieve her quarter. The lady said "No leave it for someone else."

That's it, just leaving the quarter for someone else. I find is truly sad that that was the one act of kindness in my entire afternoon, but that only lasted for about three seconds. Before the lady's cab even pulled away from the curb, another lady brought her cart back. She proceeded to take the quarter from her cart and the other one as well. I suppose she needed that quarter to put gas in her gas guzzling Caddilac Escalade.

Seriously though,  I was left scratching my head. She was obviously not hurting for cash but she couldn't bear the thought of a single quarter sitting there for just anyone to use. She found it absolutely essential to piss all over someone else's good deed. Lovely.

The holidays are just over a month away. And of all the times in the year, wouldn't you think that this is the time for kindness and patience and just common courtesy for other human beings. I know it's a busy time of year, and I know that it can be expensive but no matter how stressed we are, there are people in worse situations.

I am organizing a huge food drive for the office that I work in. Our company has over 400 employees so I have devised a bit of a food drive competition that will go for an entire month. And I've gotten a few emails for fellow co-workers. Most have been things like asking for more details on what foods are most needed by the food bank or if they can include mittens and hats for kids as well.

But I've also gotten angry emails from people complaining about everything. I mean everything. People complaining that they don't have the money to donate, or they don't feel the prize is worth it. How can people be so petty and ridiculous over something like this? I mean, I'm broke too but I have a few cans in the cupboard of soups and pasta that I know can be used and that we won't miss.

Yes, we have a prize for the team who 'wins' the competition. The prize isn't much, just coffee and donuts for that team. Yet the prize isn't the main point of this, its the fact that an organization as large as ours can do a lot of good if we all pitch in just the littlest bit.

I'm just disheartened by it all today. I like to believe that people are inately good and kind but days like this, make me sincerely wonder if I am the abnormal one. Not that I am saying I'm better than anyone. I'm not by any stretch of the imagination. Maybe its just that my beliefs about my fellow humans are naive.

Self doubt is a vicious bitch

I know it happens to all writers (Hell, all people) at some point. That moment where you look at the story that you've been pouring your heart and soul into for months/years and you are overcome with an almost overwhelming wave of  insecurity. Nothing you've written is good enough. All those tiny little errors in your draft seem to leap off the page and taunt you. Every wording choice seem wrong and every description seems inept.

That's me tonight. I'm in the beginning stages of editing my newly finished novel. And maybe the best course of action is to sit back and put a bit of distance between us before I tackle the edits. Yet I continue to toil through and it's not going well.

I've texted a friend (my super supportive and encouraging writing budding) today with a desperate... I think I may have to trash a bunch of chapters and rewrite them. Her response was a rather subtle - DON'T DO IT OR I WILL KILL YOU.  Great... but I'm still left hating this. I didn't hate it days ago and I know I won't hate in days to come but today, I'm the moron who thought she could write.

How to get through it? Everyone will have their own methods of dealing with self doubt. Mine involves finding reading through other projects to find the decent work there. The stuff that I've already polished and worked on until my fingers bled. Stuff that I am proud of. Just to prove to myself that I can get this novel to that point. And I do a lot of reassurances to myself. "It's only a first draft. It's the bare bones of the novel, now I get to make it great." And I turn to people who know my writing and shamelessly pander for a few words of encouragement. The threat of death above actually helps more than I can say. She is the only person who's read this all. So she knows its a mess, but that comment means that she can see past that to where it could go, and she believes that I can get Scarlet there.

How do you get through the nagging self doubt? Or am I really the only one that deals with it (and I gotta tell you, if thats the case, my insecurities are going to sky rocket. LOL)

A writing process that seems to work for me

Almost a year ago, Jessi and I got into a long dicussion (as we usually do) about the series she had been slaving over for so long and the pesky little plot idea that wouldn't leave me alone. During the course of our very long winded and decidedly odd conversation, an idea was born. We'd form a bit of a writing team for the duration of our novels.

Now, you may be wondering, just exactly how that would work. Well, it's actually simple. We'd word war together, we'd encourage each other and we'd support each other through the many, many insecurities that we knew we'd face during this process. And I personally think it was a stroke of genius.

We each worked on our own projects but we eagerly read every word the other wrote and I think, because of it, some of our best writing was done.

As Nanowrimo rolled around, we were each nearing the halfway marks of our books and we needed a push to finish, so we created our own version of Nano. 30 days of writing insanity but not for the 50k words. No, our goal was simple - finish our first drafts of our novels. From there, naming December - Edit Month was an easy leap and it all led to our ultimate goal - send our query letters out to the first round of agents that we wanted to represent our books.

We are not even at the mid point of the month and we are both in the final stages of our books. I know without a doubt that I couldn't have done this as quickly without Jessi's support and encouragement. And damned if it wasn't a hell of a lot of fun in the process!

Oh, and if that weren't enough for my very talented friend, Jessi has just been offered position at a little site called The Best Damn Creative Writing Blog  just add a bit more excitement to her life.

Final chapters and writer's block - never a good combination.

After months of struggling with difficult characters and a plot that I loved and hated all at the same time, I am nearing the end of Scarlet. You'd think I'd be writing like a maniac, trying desperately to get the words out onto the screen.

Instead, I'm stalled. I am at a really pivotal part of my novel. The part that hopefully brings many different things that I've already written into play. It's not an easy section to write even though it should be. These last few chapters were formed in my head almost before anything else. Hell, even before I really knew Will, Ellyn, Robin and the gang.

So what is causing this sudden surge of writer's block? I have a few theories. (Bear in mind, I am a neurotic writer, who is just dealing with one of those days where I am hypercritical of everything I'm writing. It'll pass and I likely shouldn't write this blog til I get past this day buuut I'm gonna keep writing. )

I've seen this part of my book in my head a thousand times. I know what is going to happen. I know how my characters will react. Hell, if I had an ounce of artistic talent, I could paint a picture of the entire scene. Yet now that I'm faced with the challenge of putting it down, I am worried that I won't be able to get the picture across as clearly as I want.

As I said before, this part of the book is key. And I can't say very much about this but my biggest fear is that I will write this and the emotional impact that I'm hoping for won't be there. If the emotion isn't right, then the rest of the book will fall flat.

And my last theory is that I have truly gotten to know my characters. I know their quirks and their strengths, but it was their weaknesses that really made them real for me. I'm sad to come to an end of this book because I do love the characters so much. They've made me laugh and cry as I write their words. (And yes, I know this makes me sound crazy, but I'm sure that I'm not the only writer that feels this way.)

They started as ideas, mere shells of the characters that they grew into and each one became so well developed in my head. There were entire sections of plot that I had to change because the more I wrote the more I realized that what I thought Will would do, or what I thought Victoria would do was absolutely wrong. And I would spend hours reworking the plot to fit the characters.

In the beginning, the plot started from point A and travelled to point B. And as I started to write things changed. Suddenly, after leaving the station at point A the plot detoured to point C, ventured out to points D and E, and there was a slight layover at point F before darting over to point X but ultimately ended right back up at point B where it needed to be.