Terra Incognita

~~I know I've haven't been around much lately, but I promise I've been writing and I now find myself in a new place, one I've never experienced in my writing before. It's a whole new world and I'm still trying to get my feet under me and find myself on the map. Like the mariners of old, I'm wondering what sort of monsters I'll find and where the edges are.

~~I don't really write from an outline, but I do have a list of possible scenes in rough chronological order for my current work-in-progress, FRIENDLY FIRE. I write where ever the mood of the day strikes, or as Diana Gabaldon describes it, what I can see. In the last few weeks, though, I've been able to complete the first page of my scene list. Since I have the last page of the outline done already, that leaves me with the middle page, much of which I've never been able to see well enough to even take rough notes. Terra Incognita indeed! I'm feeling my way into the big middle of the plot and so far, so good. I have a plan for how to show the good and the bad that knits the start of the story to the end. Keep your fingers crossed.

~~Here's to opportunities you might be interested in:

• If you'd be interested in submitting a story to Good Old-Fashioned E-Publishing Company's "Plot Beasties" anthology, go HERE for more info. I'm happy to say that my submission, "Of Books and Bunnies," is in the editing stage with editor/publisher Ron Wodaski.
• Rachael Harrie has launched her Third Writers' Platform Building Campaign HERE. The second campaign was a hoot and a big boost for my blog, so come and join us. You have to sign up before August 31. 

~~I'll be here more often, I promise. Keep cool in the Shade.

Lightning

"God only exhibits his thunder and lightning at intervals, and so they always command attention. These are God's adjectives. You thunder and lightning too much; the reader ceases to get under the bed."

~~Mark Twain

~~If you're as amazed by that quote as I am, you are looking at it and wondering just when on earth do you use adjectives? And adverbs for that matter. We've all heard the writing rule to cut adjectives and adverbs and "use stronger verbs and concise nouns." So I have a question for you--where do you get those stronger verbs and concise nouns? Is there a nifty little list we can consult or is it trial and error, learning by doing?

~~I'm a bit tongue in cheek, but sometimes I do find it hard to find the right word that makes the sentence say what I need it to say and cut to the bone of the topic at hand. Of course, Mark Twain has a quote for that, too.

"The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter--it's the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning."

~~So happy hunting, my fellow word sleuths. ; )



Farewell, Darling Scenes!

~~There come a time when you have to admit defeat; when  scene you've slaved over and cried about, refuses to get in line and march properly into its place in your plot. It's always a scene that you think is an absolute necessity to bolster your theme, define your character, or reveal some deep, dark secret. And yet, it refuses to open its heart and sing. I've been working on two such scenes since February. If I'm honest, I'll admit that these two scenes have tortured me for over two years.

~~It took a great post on Letting Go by Jen at All the World's Our Page to to make me wake up the the truth. So join with me in saying a fond farewell to "South Pacific" and "Samantha's Essay." I've mined the key discoveries and found more natural places for them. In fact, on my reread this morning of the newly reconstituted "Cherry Beach" scene, I was amazed that I'd not seen this before now. I've learned my lesson. When the next thorny scene refuses to be beaten into submission, I won't be as slow to cut the little darling and re-imagine the whole thing. I know my WIP will be better for the lesson.

~~What about you? Do you have some scenes that won't behave? What do you do with them--cut or keep plugging along until they submit?

~~Happy writing! ; )

Sweet, Cute, and Productive

~~In the last two weeks, I've been very occupied with the Mall at the End of Time House Party at the Book and Writers Forum. I thought you needed an update.

• I've written 14,000 words
• Learned who Alex Singer is (more on that in a bit)
• Gotten way behind on my awards (see below)
• And submitted "Tea With My Inner Editor" to a magazine. Keep your fingers crossed.

~~Now for the full report of Alex Singer. I'll add a bit I posted on the HP denouement thread:

 When we started two weeks ago, I knew that Alex Singer was the son of Mack Singer and Sandra Roberts, that she never told Mack about Alex, that he showed up in Mack's life shortly after he marries Laura Grace, and then deploys to Afghanistan. I knew he would have TBI and come to live with my Cherry Hill family with all the problems of integrating a new family member with disabilities. I'd written no scenes with Alex in them. Now I know who he is, how he will respond to the care and love of his family, how hard it will be to accept his condition and learn to live again. Not to mention that he will learn to love as well. With all the revelations I've learned, I can mine how Alex will learn to accept love, give love, heal, and realize he is still the young man who was willing to die for his country.

~~Seriously Cute Blogger and Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award

Thanks to Deniz, one of my House Party buddies, I have two new awards.

Seriously Cute--I need to list five books/ TV programs/ films I've experienced in the last twelve months. Are you kidding? Only five? I thought I'd do five authors instead:

~~Stieg Larsson's Millennium trilogy
~~Lois McMaster Bujold's Challion trilogy
~~Catherine Asaro's Skolian Empire series (13 books)
~~Sara Gruen's Water for Elephants
~~Sue Monk Kidd's The Secret Life of Bees

There are others, but I'll stop at five.

Irresistibly Sweet--I need to list seven random facts

1. Max has started barking at the rotating photos I use for my screen saver--especially when one of him and Casey pops up.
2. When my momma, sister, and I went on a long ride together in June, we discussed our old boyfriends. Really. It was fun, too.
3. We put our huge Norfolk Island Pine on the deck for the summer. It's secretly a transformer. When wet, it's conical shaped and when dry, its cantilevered limbs lift again.
4. I've picked up four new followers lately. Thank you!
5. I'm about 60% done with the rough draft of FRIENDLY FIRE. ; )
6. It's too hot! We've had 24 days of 90+ degrees in June. July is following in line with the possibility of triple digits next week.
7. My husband has washed and waxed both the car and truck in the last two days.

There was a tag somewhere in the last month and I can't remember who tagged me. Nor can I remember the 7 funny questions except for the "Are you hot?" I think #6 answers that one.

~~Now  to pass on these awards:
Here's the people who have commented on my last blog post:

Mary Mary
JillyBean
Another Author
Madeline Bartos
And the lovely Charlotte Rains Dixon who I owe for "Tea With My Inner Editor"

Have a great day, everyone! ; )

The Mall at the End of Time--Play With a Purpose

~~I know you think I've fallen off the end of the Earth, but I've been busy. Really! I've been writing a lot just not here in the Shade. My buddies at the Books and Writers Forum have gotten a new House Party off the ground and I'm participating. I can think of no better place to practice writing. The members are great critique partners and we love each other's work. A house party is a specific setting created by one of the members so that multiple writers can bring characters from their works in progress. We create long, involved story lines that can sometimes cross over and have characters in more than one place. 

~~Our current setting is The Mall at the End of Time, created by Ron Wadaski. Go HERE for the warm up party. Warning: We are talking Armageddon consequences that must be foiled by a combination of characters including mine, Alex Singer. In warm ups we let anything hit the fan in order to get our fingers, brains, and words going. This time is no exception.

~~Since Friday, July 1, we have shifted into the official party--HERE. Our theme is Warriors and Lovers with an underpinning of fear. Believe me, every character has something to fear.

~~I've written 10,000 words in the warm up and I've already written 780 in the official House Party. Who knows where I'll end up. All I know is that I will know who Alexander Singer is when I'm done. When I need him in LINE OF FIRE, Cherry Hill Book 2, I'll be ready. ; )

How a Writing Mind Works--Kernels

~~Writers are asked, "How do you do it? How do you get your ideas? How do you write?" all the time. Sometimes we can't really tell what caused a specific scene, but at other times, it is quite clear. Lately I've been experimenting with what Diana Gabaldon calls "kernel writing." Read her description HERE. In the past, I've not been the most adept at getting these little bits down as they occur and I'm sure some of the very best have gotten away from me.

~~Now that I have Inner Editor entertained and distracted, I've been having more and more kernel moments. Today there were two specific instances. One was not a real surprise--it dealt with a scene I've been working on for FRIENDLY FIRE. The other was completely out of the blue. It deals with an idea that has been bugging me for years with THE DAWN AND THE LION. I've known how the military saluted their superiors in the chain of command for over two decades. It really never made much sense and at times, I've tried to change it, to no avail. Today I found out the symbolism behind the salute.

~~I have been rereading Catherine Asaro's SKOLIAN EMPIRE series and the method of salute kept standing out.
"The officers saluted, raising their arms to chest height, outstretched with fists clenched, crossing their wrists with the snap of muscled skin hitting muscled skin." (THE RADIENT SEAS p. 274)

~~Then I had a clear scene to pop up in my mind that explained the salute and moves plot along nicely. The POV character is Canda Aurora, the female protagonist. Even without knowing all that goes before or comes after, I think this kernel will illustrate how my mind was working this morning. Note that the general mentioned has no specific name yet, so X stands in its place. I hope you enjoy.

A chill walked up my spine. August was dead. No one had to tell me. No one needed to share their grief with me. Mine was larger than the three worlds. Larger than a human heart could survive.

General X, the chief of staff, second in command stood before me. "My Lady Regent." His hand rose sharply and he touched the center of his forehead with his fingers. I'd seen the salute a thousand times since I came to Patria. A salute to Brennan, to August and now to me. No matter how I grieved, I had responsibility. For General X's salute said it all--My mind is yours to command. The chill became a blizzard.

~~How do your scenes come to you? Do you find inspiration in what you read or do they develop from outlines?

Tea With My Inner Editor

~~I owe the following conversation to Charlotte Rains Dixon. She offered free, fifteen-minute coaching sessions on her blog last week. Knowing I needed help to shut my inner editor up, I jumped on the offer. Among the wonderful suggestions was this one—have a discussion with your inner editor. Picture them. Talk to them. Explain their roles in your writing. This clicked with me. I don’t know if your inner editor is male or female, human, elf, or fairy, but mine is me.

~~If you are wondering how on earth I could have a photo of my younger self dressed as a 1950s school teacher, there’s a story behind it. Of course. ; ) When I was in high school, we had a 50s dress-up day. I borrowed an old suit from my momma, twisted my waist-length hair into a tight bun, and painted my lips and nails scarlet. And guess who won? That’s right—me. The teachers who judged the contest loved being reminded what their teachers looked like in the 50s.
~~So without any further ado, here’s "Tea With My Inner Editor"

###

     It was a shock to see her sitting on the floral wing-backed chair, hands folded primly in her lap. The tight little smile painted in Revlon Million Dollar Red was so unlike her usual scowl. The dark brown hair as the same—a tightly rolled bun at the nape of her neck. The same white handkerchief and pink lilies of the valley adorned the severe, tight, black suit. I’d never seen her in a different outfit. Never.

     "Would you like some tea, Miss?" My voice squeaked. If I didn’t find a way to settle my nerves this chance to set things right would be for naught. And somewhere deep inside I knew it was the only chance I had to get my writing off square one.

     "That would be nice, dear."

     I was puzzled. It didn’t sound like her voice. There was no censure, no reprimand. Just ultimate politeness.

     "It’s sweet of you to ask." The small leather pump tapped twice.

     Swallowing hard, I asked, "Darjeeling or Earl Grey?"

     "Oh, the Earl unless you have some of Old Wilmington’s Lord John Grey." Her voice trailed off, a brow raised in question.

     She reads Diana Gabaldon’s books? I couldn’t picture her reading the life and loves of my favorite characters, Jamie and Claire. That didn’t seem possible, but only a fan would know about that tea. "Uh…no. If the Earl will do?"

     "Of course, dear."

     Her hands were still clenched tightly as I gently placed my prize teapot on the low table. I’d pay for the Earl Grey with hives, but it was worth it if we could come to terms.

     "I asked you here to visit when I didn’t have a pen in my hand for a reason." My cup rattled against the saucer. My nerves staged a new assault and tightened my throat.

     "Yes, dear? I assumed there was a reason." Irony made her voice resonant.

     "Well, you see—"

     "Get to the point, dear. Or I’ll have to get out my red pen." The toe was tapping again.

     Swallowing the lump, I blurted, "You’re blocking my writing. I’ll never finish Laura Grace’s story much less ever have a hope of really starting Canda’s. You never let me finish a sentence without that hectoring voice in my ear. ‘No adverbs. Choose a stronger verb. Every sentence in that paragraph is in the subject-verb pattern and in the one before, they all started with a gerund clause.’ Or if that’s not enough, you remind me that a first person narrator never notices herself grin or frown and you snarl, ‘Your body language is a cliché and your setting is non-existent!’"

     I paused to catch my breath and looked up at her. The golden-brown eyes were wide with shock behind her wire-rimmed glasses. A tear gathered in the corner of her eye.

     Brows drawn down, she looked at her clenched hands, knuckles white with stress. "All I ever wanted was to see you succeed, dear. I didn’t know. Truly I didn’t." Her voice was thick with unshed tears.

     "Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Miss Editor. Really, I didn’t. And I do need you. It’s just you get in the way when I’m writing my rough draft. It’s stifling, actually." The shiny head rose a bit and a smile tugged at the ruby lips. "And yes. I’m used nearly every ‘ly’ word I can think of and ‘just’ in nearly every sentence, but, Miss Editor, I need you to understand—I’ve got to have room to maneuver when I’m drafting or I’m never going to complete a sentence much less a novel." My whine grated on my ears, but she had to see.

     "Could you…" I wracked my brains and then a light sparked to life. "Could you take tea and read Outlander while I’m drafting. Just until I have a draft that needs editing…"

     A flicker of hope lit my heart as her little smile grew. A delicate sip later, the smile became a warming sun, rising on a new day. "Yes, dear. That would be lovely. I’ve missed Jamie and Claire." The smile grew into a wicked grin. "In fact, I might just let my hair down." She reached up and released the tightly wound bun. A cascade of silky brown fell over her shoulders. "Yes, just let me know when I’m needed." Her toes kicked out of the tight shoes. And she unbuttoned the jacket. "I think I need a break right now. If that’s all right with you."

###

~~So now I know what to do when I need to write—tell Miss Inner Editor to get a cup of Lord John Grey and visit Jamie and Claire.

~~What do you do to get your inner editor to be quiet?

~~P.S. Miss Editor didn’t take her red pen to this. Something about a certain masterful scene at Castle Leoch…

~~P.P.S. If you don’t know what scene I’m referring to, go get a copy of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander immediately and follow it up with all the rest of the series. I dare you to read 100 pages and stop. ; )

The Writer's Bestiary--A Poem

~~I write poetry from time to time and thought I'd share my latest one. It came from a discussion on the Books and Writers Forum about writing woes and what our tears do. I have to thank Ron Wodaski and Deniz Bevan for some of the images. Ron's blog is HERE and Deniz's is HERE.

The Writer’s Bestiary

I crouch in a desolate, desert waste
Of dry words without life or form or taste.
Then my muse appears to sit at my feet,
Her hand cupping, catching my tears;
Her smile wild and sweet.

“Dear One,
Each drop you weep holds
    oceans of healing, and
    balm for those you seek.
In my hand I hold the cure
    for word count dragonflies,
    each wing made complete.
They water the hummingbirds who fly,
    knitting your scenes together
    unfolding your plot to the sky.
When your characters refuse their names,
    your tears ease the roly-polies’ fears,
    and soften the beetle’s hard shell,
    where their hearts hide so well.
And as your tears overflow on
    caterpillar, cocoon, and butterfly,
    setting becomes focused and clear.
Choked throats, full of dialog are freed
    as your tears tend the songbird’s wing,
    allowing it once again to fly and sing.

“So cry, Dear One.
Your tears are not shed in vain.
Use them to write your story once again.”