Category Archives: Writing

Happy Halloween!

31 Wednesday Oct 2012

Posted by in A Gift of Time, Writing

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I could make lots of excuses for why I disappeared for the month of October — I actually have a few good reasons, including a couple of fun projects that took up some brain space and writing energy. I’m working on a presentation about self-publishing for my dad’s computer club, which ought to be fun if I can pull all my thoughts together. I’m also editing and formatting my son’s paternal grandfather’s memoirs, which I thought would be a little project, but requires some serious thinking in order to respect his voice and story while still making sensible edits.

And I started some Doctor Who fanfiction, which has been fun but gives me an excuse for lots of research. Bacon cost 38 cents per pound in 1938, which sounds faked, because of the 38-38 repetition, but was actually from a site about prices in 1938. I spent quite a while wavering over whether a made-up price — 39 cents? 37 cents? 42 cents? — would sound more realistic than the real price. Plus, of course, the research into Doctor Who itself, which means watching episodes — where was River in prison? When was River in prison? (Stormcage, 51st century). Who arrested her? Back to the television!

And, of course, I’m still struggling with rewriting A Gift of Time. I’ve done the first chapter so many times now, so many different ways. My new plan is to NaNoWriMo it — just write, write, write, get the idea down, and move on. I did this analysis of my current writing process with a friend today:

Line: Half the town filled Maggie’s place.
Thought: That’s terrible. Well, rewrite it. Get the idea across in a better way.
Line: Maggie’s place was packed.
Thought: Is that passive? Is it dull? Sentences with “was” are boring. I should change that.
Line: Half the town packed into Maggie’s place.
Thought: Okay, that’s just stupid. You’re talking about people, not the town. A town can’t fit into a restaurant.
Line: People packed Maggie’s place.
Thought: Ugh, that alliteration is like bad poetry. And could ‘people’ possibly be a duller word choice?

And twenty minutes later, I have accomplished nothing. And all I wanted to do was to say that the darn restaurant was crowded!

Mostly, though, my disappearance has been due to none of that. Actually, I’ve been living in Azeroth. If you’ve ever played WoW, the Pandaria expansion is really fun. It combines so many good qualities of play and story, humor and tension and excitement and gratification. The makers have put serious work into finding out what makes a game fun and satisfying and trying to build in aspects of the game that will make it enjoyable for everyone. The only problem, of course, is that in order to get to Panda-land, you’ve got to work your characters through all of the other levels. Huge, huge time sink. I suppose when we’re starving because I haven’t found a job (<–hyperbole, highly unlikely to happen) I will regret the hours spent immersed in someone else’s imaginary worlds, but honestly, I’ve really enjoyed this past month there.

That said, I’m going to try to cut way back in November in order to spend more time in my own imaginary worlds. And I’ll be giving the 50,000 words in a month thing a try. I probably won’t do the official NaNoWriMo, because I want to work on Time, of course, and since I’ve been working on it for, ulp, three or four months already, it doesn’t fit within their rules. But in principle, I’ll be trying the crazy writing schedule for a month. Anyone else doing the same?

PS The number on the Halloween candy is because it’s for a scavenger hunt for Project Team Beta. Welcome, Project Team Beta folks! Good luck with the hunt! And Happy Halloween!

PPS A Gift of Ghosts and A Gift of Thought are both free on Amazon on October 31, from midnight to midnight Pacific Standard Time. If you’re reading this, you’ve probably read them already, but if you have friends who might like a free ghost story or two on Halloween, please spread the word!

Yesterday’s words

22 Wednesday Aug 2012

Posted by in Writing

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Yesterday was the first day I managed 1000 words in weeks. It’s too bad the words weren’t on A Gift of Time! But they’re sort of fun, so here they are:

****

“It’s so bizarre,” Akira said thoughtfully, staring up at the motionless ceiling fan. 
“Is the baby moving?” Zane asked, sliding a hand along the slight curve of her belly. He hadn’t been able to feel a kick yet, but that didn’t stop him from trying. 
“No, not that.” Akira tilted her head sideways, letting it come to rest against his shoulder. She sighed, feeling content with her position although mildly exasperated by her body’s demands. 
“Bizarre,” Zane repeated. “Would that be the miracle of life growing inside you?” 
“A natural process that women have been managing for thousands of years.” Her voice was dry. Of course, it was a little strange that she’d met her baby’s previous incarnation—she imagined that not too many women throughout history could claim the same. But no, that wasn’t what she’d been thinking about.
“What then?” Zane stroked up, long fingers reaching the underside of her breast and lightly tracing a pattern along her skin. 
“How much I want red meat.” Not just red meat. Steak. Gorgeous steak. Red in the middle, seared dark on the outside. Mmm, with salt. Luscious salt, bursting with flavor on her tongue. Or maybe a hamburger, juicy and rich, dripping with . . . ick. Fat and blood. That’s what hamburgers dripped with. But even knowing that didn’t change the way her mouth watered at the thought.
Zane chuckled. 
“It doesn’t make sense,” Akira protested.
“Sure it does. The baby needs some protein.” 
“I ate a pound of edamame last night. A whole pound. That’s about five times the amount of protein the average person needs.”
Zane’s hand stilled. “I read something . . .” He pulled away, Akira’s head dropping to the pillow as he got out of the bed and crossed to the dresser on the other side of the room. 
“Hey!” She complained. She’d been comfortable. And his clever hands had been starting to stir up something a little more interesting than hunger for steak. 
He looked back over his shoulder and grinned at her. “Coming right back,” he promised. He grabbed his smartphone and started tapping.  “Soy,” he reported, “contains phytic acid.”
Akira raised her eyebrows. “And?” She’d never even heard of phytic acid. Why had Zane? 
“It blocks the absorption of minerals.” He joined her on the bed, lying down and putting a proprietary arm across her. 
“Minerals such as . . .”
“Calcium, magnesium, and iron,” he said cheerfully. “Also zinc and mercury, if they matter.” 
“Let me see that.” Akira held out a hand for his phone and he passed it to her, a small smile playing around his lips. 
She read the information on the website he’d found, scowling. “Damn it. All right, maybe I’m craving meat because I need iron. Fine, I’ll eat broccoli.” She couldn’t suppress a shudder at the thought. Broccoli. She loved broccoli. But not for the past few months. Just the thought of it brought a nasty taste into her mouth. 
Zane leaned down. “Good job, Henry,” he whispered to her abdomen. “You and me, bud? We’re gonna be friends.” 
Akira groaned. What was a semi-vegetarian doing getting involved with a confirmed meat-and-potatoes man? Worse, having his baby? 
Zane grinned. “How about I pick up a couple filets? Fire up the grill? We can have steak and baked potatoes for dinner tonight.”
“Steak and salad,” she answered grumpily. 
“Baked potatoes. With butter. Maybe some sour cream.” 
Akira closed her eyes. Why did that sound so good? What was Henry doing to her? Having her body taken over by a creature with his own tastes and desires was not what she had expected from pregnancy. Was it like this for every new mother? 
“Knock, knock!” The cheery voice from the other side of the bedroom door stopped Akira’s response to Zane before she could make it. It was almost with relief that she called out, “What is it, Rose?” 
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but . . .” Rose paused and Akira’s eyes narrowed. Was that nerves she heard in the ghost girl’s tone? Rose wasn’t the nervous type. “I need your help.” 
***
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” 
“I’m sure it’ll be okay. She acts real mean, but she wasn’t like that when I knew her.” 
“When you knew her? When she was alive, you mean?” Akira didn’t bother to look toward the ghost seated in the passenger seat next to her. Florida drivers were insane. She needed to keep her eyes on the road. 
“Uh-huh,” Rose responded eagerly. “She was a few years younger than me in school, so I didn’t know her well, but she was nice enough.”
“Nice enough. Huh.” Akira thought back to the mean old woman ghost she’d met briefly on her first day in Tassamara. Meredith, her realtor, had been showing Akira houses supposedly available to rent. Akira hadn’t even been willing to go into the little lakefront cottage. The angry ghost grumbling on the porch had made it clear that she wasn’t welcome. “Is that what they call damning with faint praise?” 
“No, really,” Rose answered. “I’ve visited her a few times recently. As long as you’re not planning on moving into her house, she’ll be perfectly friendly.” 
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” This time Akira dared a glance at her passenger. To Akira, the ghost looked almost like a typical teenage girl—only her full skirt and blonde curls showing that she was out of her own time—but Akira knew she was more than that. And more than simply a ghost, too. 
“Yes.” A little frown between her eyes revealed Rose’s worry. “She’s determined to get rid of the new tenant.” 
Akira turned her gaze back to the road. Determined. She didn’t like determined ghosts. She didn’t like angry ghosts, either. She sighed. “I was supposed to be writing wedding invitations today.” 
“Zane said he’d take care of them,” Rose said.
Akira didn’t roll her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, as she tried to imagine Zane’s version of formal invitations. It wouldn’t be careful calligraphy, that was for sure. If she had to guess, he was picking up the phone and calling most of the people on their list. And then he’d tell her it was all taken care of. 
She dropped a hand to her belly.

A Gift of Thought

12 Sunday Aug 2012

Posted by in Self-publishing, Thought

≈ 2 Comments

A Gift of Thought is free today on Amazon (and for the next couple of days, too). That’s because I’m at GeekGirlCon in Seattle. I’d create a link, but I’m on my iPad and typing is too hard, plus I haven’t had any coffee yet, so the chance that the link would go sadly awry is high. But it’s been fascinating. I’ve never been to a convention before, rather than a conference, and maybe this falls somewhere in between. But there are loads of people in costumes wandering around amidst discussions of misogyny and gender and online space and community. I’ve always thought web design conferences were an improvement over code conferences and this is definitely the step up from that. I’m a little nervous that my presentation is too practical, not philosophical, but c’est la vie, it’s way too late to worry about that now. Pam says I need to go slower so people have time to write down the links, so I’m still trying to figure out how to do that. I might have to cut something. Anyway, time to find some caffeine — but download Thought if you haven’t and tell your friends, if they’re the type to enjoy quirky ghost stories!

Inappropriate

27 Wednesday Jun 2012

Posted by in Fanfiction

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I got a message from fictionpress that I should have ignored, but couldn’t.

This person Inappropriate sent me a private message that said — and I quote —
“Hi
can i talk?
thats me in my profile picture”

to which I responded, “If that’s you in your profile picture, does your mother know you’re writing to strangers online? Because I want to call her up and tell her she’s being negligent — and you should know better! And no, we cannot talk. Get offline and behave like an appropriate eight-year old.”

And I still feel angry. I have no idea who that is but I am quite sure, he/she/it is not the person in the picture and whoever he/she/it is, using a little kid’s picture like that is disgusting. I feel slimed just by the interaction. And also furious. I wish I could call someone — if not a mother, better yet the police. And just the fact that someone so sleazy would respond to something I wrote makes me want to throw things.

Ghosts free today

12 Tuesday Jun 2012

Posted by in Ghosts, Self-publishing

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A Gift of Ghosts is mentioned on Free Kindle Books and Tips today. It’ll be free on Amazon through the 15th to celebrate the publication of A Gift of Thought.

Not too many copies have been downloaded so far, so I was really surprised to see it on a Free bestseller list already. Then I looked at the list and the Free titles stopped at about 73 or so. I guess only 73 authors are giving away books in the Contemporary Fantasy section. That sure makes it easy to make it on the list! It’s like getting third place in a race with only three runners. But hey, it’s still third place.

I comforted myself by looking at the Top-Rated list and it’s #24 on the Fantasy, Futuristic, and Ghost Romance list and #33 on the Contemporary Fantasy list.

Wishing for a marketing department

09 Saturday Jun 2012

Posted by in Self-publishing, Thought, Writing

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Book’s done, proofed, ready to go — all I need to do now is write a blurb that works. It is unbelievably hard. I think I’m going to be tweaking this blurb for the next three months. Should it start with Dillon? The book does. Or Sylvie, the way my current blurb has? Including both of them in the blurb without  spoilers has so far been completely beyond me. As I yearn for a marketing department, I have to remind myself that back when I did work with a marketing department, I almost always preferred to write the sales copy myself. And in this case, I’m definitely best qualified to do the job. I’m tempted to send out emails to all the people who’ve already read it, though, and say, ‘Um, what’s the book about?’ just to see what they say.

…And I think I just published it. Wow, Amazon has made it easy. No more Mobipocket creator, meta data, building a table of contents — you upload the Word doc, they turn it into a book for you. Not that I’ve seen the book yet. It’s still publishing. But by tomorrow morning, I bet it’ll be up there.

We used to hit a big gong to celebrate sending a book to the printer. Everyone in the company stood up in their cubicles and cheered the triumphant team that had just achieved a little miracle. Somehow hitting Save just doesn’t have the same oomph. I think I’ll go set off some fireworks. 

Excerpt of A Gift of Thought

04 Monday Jun 2012

Posted by in Writing

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In the spirit of “flip the book open and see what it sounds like,” here’s a short excerpt from Chapter Six of A Gift of Thought, which will be released June 12th.

Stop reading here if you hate all spoilers! (Also if you object to curse words that start with the letter “B”)

**********************

She forced all of her weight against him, but her feet were already slipping on the smooth asphalt. “You shouldn’t get near strange women in parking lots,” she said. “You never know what they might do.” The words came out more breathless than she liked, and she tried to steal a glance at the ground. If she let him go, could she get the bag and retrieve whatever he’d been holding? 
No, she decided regretfully. He was too close, she wouldn’t have enough time. Choke hold? No, the bastard was too big. And too tough. 
She felt the snap more than heard it, but his scream of rage could have been heard halfway down the street if there’d been anyone around. Damn. She dropped his arm and then quickly kicked her bag and whatever was beneath it under the car as she danced backwards and dropped into a combat stance. 
Had the break even registered with him? He turned to face her, his arm dangling limply at his side. Pale skin, hair in a buzz cut so short it was almost shaved, probably 280 pounds of muscle. She noted the details automatically, hoping she’d need them for a police report later. 
This guy was big, fast, and too hopped up on steroids or something else to care about the pain of his broken arm. Her best bet was to get help. And quickly. 
Ty would kill her for being so over-confident. 
“Now I’m gonna kill ya, bitch.” 
Okay, Ty would have to get in line. 
**************************
Last line revised courtesy of a wonderful beta reader, Mike Kent. Thanks, Mike!

Dedications

13 Sunday May 2012

Posted by in Ghosts

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I wrote this months ago. Not sure why it never posted or why I never posted it. Maybe because it struck me as cowardly? But today I like it — it was a great reminder of things I’ve been forgetting — so I’m posting it.

Today was practicum. For a counselor-in-training, this is the make-it-or-break-it moment. Am I actually going to be able to help people or am I going to screw up? We’ve had the rules of confidentiality drilled into us from day one, but I don’t think it’s breaking confidentiality to say that one of my future clients tried to commit suicide a few months ago. Am I going to be able to help him or is this going to be one of my worst nightmares come true? (I initially wrote worst nightmare and then I realized that homicidal trumps suicidal…but still…)

Oddly enough–or perhaps not so oddly–Felicia Day’s end of 2010 blog post popped back into my head. Specifically the improv will save your life point. Even more specifically, ignoring the voice that says “that won’t work, no one does it like that.” I don’t know if that’s as relevant to counseling as it was to writing, but in the moment, it was so comforting.It reminded me to trust my instincts, to have faith in my intuition.

And that made me really want to tell her so.

But…that felt weird. Too weird to do. And yet, why? She seems like a pretty nice person. She wrote something that mattered to me in a way far beyond sense. The delegation part, not so much, that’s meaningless at the moment. But the improv and the anxiety and the patience and the self-awareness–all of those words, for whatever reason, hit a trigger and stayed with me. So much so that it’s a year later and it still matters.

I wrote the dedication to A Gift of Ghosts on a whim almost. Most people dedicate their first book–if they dedicate it at all–to family members. To the loving spouse, the supportive parents, the delightful children. I do have a delightful child but honestly, he deserves no credit. He thinks I should play more WOW and write less (presumably because I was more fun when I was playing more WOW but also because he doesn’t like it when I read him lines of dialog and say, “would you say it that way?” Yeah, you didn’t think that 15-year-old voice was all me, did you?) And I also have/had supportive parents, although…okay, not going there at the moment.

Not the point, anyway.

The point is, I didn’t spend a ton of time thinking out the dedication of the book. I wrote it on an impulse and I didn’t really think that anyone would ever see it. And hey, I wrote a quarter of a million words of Eureka fan fiction, it’s not as if I picked some random television show to dedicate a book to. I think maybe I earned my right to dedicate a book to Eureka. But why do I feel so defensive about this? I’m honestly not sure…but I think it’s because right now, today, tonight, I want Felicia Day to know that something she said mattered. And the only way to make that happen is to tell her so. And somehow that feels ridiculously scary. Even more so than posting the book to Amazon did.

But this is the dedication of A Gift of Ghosts.

A quirky dedication for a quirky book: this book is dedicated to the creators, cast, and crew of the (wonderful, amazing, incredibly fun, tragically cancelled) television show Eureka, for first inspiring my creativity and then annoying me so much that I was forced into originality. And in particular, to Felicia Day, for this blog post: http://feliciaday.com/blog/five-things-about-2010, and for making geeky girls cool.

Blogging about blogging

06 Sunday May 2012

Posted by in Writing

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I open the door to the outside and Zelda dashes through like I’m rewarding her for being incredibly clever while Gizmo looks at me like, “Really? Must we?” I love having two dogs around — it is decidedly twice as much fun as one.

But that wasn’t what I was going to write about. Obviously, having quit graduate school (or descended into total insanity, depending on how you’d like to define my behavior), I’m trying to figure out what I do next with my life. Or rather, how I earn the money that it will take to pay the mortgage and feed the kid and the dog and keep the car filled with gas…I should stop this list before it freaks me out. But you get the idea — I need to come up with a plan. I think I wrote about my OCD need for plans before: ah, no, it was about structure. Here, read this past post: Structure. So you see, I need some structure, I need some goals, I need to know what the f*** I’m doing. (Look, I’m so repressed that I can’t even swear on my own blog that no one else reads! Gah! Sometimes my crazy drives  me…ha, crazy.)

Returning to the point . . . most writer’s blogs strike me as wrong. Not that I’m going to go out and tell them so, but writers seem to mostly write about writing. Admittedly, when that’s what you’re doing, of course it’s what interests you. And yet, readers — who are the people who should be most inclined to visit a writer’s blog — don’t care about writing. In fact, as a reader, I want nothing less than a writerly blog written by my favorite authors. I want to believe that Miles Vorkosigan is real. I don’t want to know how Lois McMaster Bujold thought about acts while she wrote those novels and how she deliberately used short sentences to build tension. I want to believe in the world she created — a blog about writing from her would be like Oz pulling back the curtain and saying eagerly, “yeah, it’s all tricks, you want to try, too?”

Yet, of course, when you’re writing, that’s what you’re thinking about. I’ve written a bunch of posts about the business of self-publishing because that’s what I’m thinking about, but I don’t want to write a blog about self-publishing because that would require me to keep writing about it past the point when it interests me. In fact, having a successful blog in general probably requires consistency — writing about the same topics regularly — and wow, does that sound tedious or what? I really would rather just blog whatever weird thing is in my head at whatever time it’s in there. (They’re remaking the Star Trek with Khan and no movie has ever given me worse nightmares — I’m horrified by the very idea. I won’t be seeing that one. Not that I see any movies, but that one I won’t be wanting to see and not because of all the reasons that leaving the house seems like a bad idea…And yeah, that thought’s because of those weird little ear worms that eat your brain.)

Anyway, I think my conclusion is that I’m not likely to ever have a successful blog. Okay, cross blogging off as one possible future career. Time to go back to writing and not thinking about our eventual starvation . . .