I’m at 11500 words on book two! I’m currently guestimating 85000 words for book 2. Book 1 [Trial By Fire] was 84000 so I figured 85000 was a fair guess.
I’m a visual person and NEED TO SEE THE GRAPH, so I love word count meters. I do have a title for book 2 but I’m keeping it close to the vest in case I change my mind. But seeing as I’m HORRIBLE at keeping secrets, I’ll probably let the cat out of the bag at some point.
As mentioned before, I write fanfiction and am part of fandom. One of the things that often accompanies someone’s story is a song mix or people will make fanmixes to go with a fic or for a character. I’ve discovered many treasured favorite new songs through fanmixes! I decided to make one for Jade. I may add to this as I find songs that fit. I hope to have one for Paris, but I fear if I start listing songs now, I’ll give too much away!
1. The Trick is To Keep Breathing – Garbage
She’s not the kind of girl, Who likes to tell the world, About the way she feels about herself
2. Crawl – Artificial Joy Club [I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS BEING THEIR ONLY ALBUM]
Wake up, sugar, sugar Come down, smell the coffee, Drink your fears, Taste your problems
3. Born in a Flash – Mother Mother
Photograph, Looking down at me, I’m looking at the past, Something about my family
4. Blindness – Metric
I am hiding from some beast, But the beast was always here, Watching without eyes, Because the beast is just my fear
Editing – the bane of my existence. I would argue most writers hate to edit and if you’re a writer and you don’t hate editing, wanna do mine for me?
But, editing is a necessary evil and though I detest it, I try my hardest! I quite often skip words when I write, thinking I’ve typed them out when I really haven’t. I also don’t always stop for commas, apostrophes and spelling. A solid edit clears all that up.
I think my favorite example about editing is the difference between, “Let’s eat, Grandma!” and “Let’s eat Grandma!”
One is a call to a grandmother, inviting them to eat. The other…. well… Grandma might not make it through dinner.
I’m blessed with several ‘beta’ readers – these are the gems in my world who fix up my stuff and tell me when I’ve missed commas, forgotten plot lines or just… made a hot mess. A good beta offers constructive criticism and doesn’t just tell you, “IT’S WONDERFUL.” In fact, a good beta will likely NOT tell you that. At least not until after they finish pointing out your mistakes so you can fix them.
I once had a beta note that I was missing an explanation scene for something. I thought it was clear, but then again, I’ve got the whole world of the story in my head. I wrote a quick little explanation scene and in all the comments I got on that story [fanfiction] the number one thing I heard was how that little scene was people’s favorite. and I wouldn’t have added it without my beta!
I had a lot of help on my book, Trial by Fire [coming out June 25 – SHAMELESS PLUG – click on the COVENCRAFT link above]. And I owe them a big ‘Thank you’ and I hope they don’t mind me calling them by name here!
CHANTAL – I gave you an 80000+ manuscript and then asked for it back in less than a week, with edits and you did it graciously and without complaint and made it a better book! THANK YOU. I appreciate it so much. [Even though you’ve been jealous of me since we were kids ;)]
DONNA – the care and consideration you showed while reading my novel was heartwarming and humbling. I can’t believe the things you noticed and how much thought and effort you put into it. God bless you and your mother’s grammar lessons!
ASHLEIGH – bb, I expected the fastest turnaround from you [as I’m familiar with your reading speed ;)] and you did not disappoint! I think you got back to me, like, 24 hrs after I sent you the proof? THAT’S FRIENDSHIP, GURL!
So I know I’ve been gone for a while. Why is it when you work out for three days in a row, it feels really long, but when you fall off the wagon for a while on something, it seems really short? I coulda SWORN I just blogged yesterday. And now it’s been almost a three weeks and I’ve got nothing to say.
Like most peeps, I’m crazy busy right now. I have my Real Job, and then in my spare time [snort!] I decided I wanted to learn how to do artificial nails. So I signed up for a course and that’s where I was all last weekend. I do have pics of my very first nail [done on mum’s pinky finger] but it’s on my crackberry which is allthewayacrosstheroomandI’mtoolazytogetit.
Today I did Jessi’s nails at work, no tips, just a color overlay. I was exhausted at the end! It’s a new task for me so I’ve got to concentrate super hard. Not that I’m not concentrating at my Real Job, it’s just that at Real Job, my hands and brain know what to do in tandem to get the work done, and with the nail thing, hands and brain have not yet worked out an agreement on who is in charge. Brain says do x y and z. Hands say “um, I don’t bend that way.”
Jessi has graciously agreed to be my guinea pig, so whenever I get some new stuff in, she’s getting it slapped on her nails. Today we did Midnight Velvet, a darkly veiled plum. The color is nice but it was a bee-yotch to apply as it took FIVE COATS to get a consistent color.
I’ve not done any writing on The Book, but I have been thinking about it. Which I guess is like when I was 7 and I wouldn’t practice the piano, I would just think about it and then lesson night would roll around and I would be so nervous on the way to class that my hands would get all splotchy and would almost break out in hives.
And I’m still going to bootcamp 3 times a week and Michelle is kicking our butts. HARD. She’s busted out all the good ones: Hills, Stairs, Gauntlet. oh, my legs hurt just thinking about it.
And I’ve started seeing a nutritionist. I’ve really never eaten this well in my whole life. On Sunday, I had Wendy’s and I actually didn’t feel good afterward. That has NEVER happend to me before. Ever. In the history of my fast-food lovin life. And I’ve lost 7 pounds and 2 inches off my hips, one of my waist. So snaps to me.
And I think that’s about it!
For years, I have been working on The Book. The Book has no title – at least, not one I want to share. And that’s the problem with my writing. I don’t like to share it. I like to hoard it. It takes me a LONG LONG time to be comfortable enough to share my writing. Donna had to wait YEARS before I showed her anything and Ashleigh only got to read stuff because she was coughing up her own writing. And every time I would exchange stuff with Ash, I would nervously check my inbox for feedback.
I’ve been writing short stories, novels, extended plots, soap operas etc since I was 17. I used to write what I wanted when I wanted how I wanted. And somewhere, sometime I got caught up in GETTING PUBLISHED. and suddenly writing wasn’t fun anymore. It was stressful, and a chore, and it was painful, and I watched the clock while I did it and every word that got typed got scrutinized painfully. And counted. Would a publisher like this? what would a reader say/think? who would my readers be? Was it childish? Cliched? Was I following the ‘rules’ I’d learned in Grade 7 – Introduction, Rising Action, Climax, Denouement. Was there enough character growth? Too much? would people care about my characters? Too much dialogue?
Ashleigh and I set deadlines for ourselves, for each other, made promises to deliver pages, paragraphs – on time [and under budget!].
And it was HORRIBLE. I had never disliked writing before. I had never dreaded it. I used to sit in my bedroom on the floor with a pitcher of koolaid and a fine selection of CDs/cassette tapes and just have at ‘er with my Special Pens and my Special Notebooks.
I had to think long and hard about what I was doing and why. and I decided to Frak it. Did I care about getting published? Sure I did, but not as much as i wanted to get the ‘happy’ that had been SUCKED out of my writing hobby.
So, I’ve dropped The Book. At least Book 1. There was too much emotional baggage wrapped up in it. And now I write what I want when I want and how I want. and the Happy is still there! It was waiting for me to get my head out of my ass!
I still consider myself a writer. Even if I never get published, even if I never even try to get published. I like my stuff. I never think, Jeez, I wish that hadn’t have happened, or why did so and so go do THAT, – the way I do when I read books. Because when I write, I am god. Stuff only happens because I want it to happen and people only do stuff because of reasons I’ve given them. It’s narcissistic and self-centered and MINE ALL MINE.
And you’ll probably never get to read it. And I’m okay with that.