I just received an email from the contest coordinator of On The Far Side, the contest for unpublished authors sponsored by FF&P, the Futuristic, Fantasy & Paranormal Special Interest Chapter of RWA. Drum roll, please.
In the erotic romance category, who's final judge was Kate Duffy with Kensington Publishing, I PLACED FIRST! She's requested the full manuscript of City of the Dead.
I am just... speechless. Hyperventilating, and speechless.
Aiyeeeeeeeee!!
Yesterday, my friend Kate blogged that her unfaithful Muse had upped and left her, even after she'd cajoled and begged and threatened. Well, it appears that Kate's Muse snuck in and convinced my Muse to go with her. Because yesterday I wrote exactly 307 words. 307, despite being home all day.
307 lousy words.
So, where do Muses go when they're playing hookey, I wonder? To the movies? To the bookstore? Over at Jenna's, ogling her Muse, Jack? In Greece for a long weekend, playing with the gods? (That's where my money is. Either ogling Jack or playing with yummy Greek gods. Damn it. Why doesn't she ever ask me to go along?! And why did I get stuck with a female Muse and Jenna got a hunky guy? Why, I ask you? Why?)
Can one trade in one's Muse? Especially when she's being a non-cooperative pain in the ass?
Inquiring minds wanna know. Because today, today I have to be productive. I'm having family over tomorrow for chili and maybe a rousing game of Balderdash, so I'll be cleaning and cooking. (All right, so there's not a lot of cooking involved in opening cans and tossing the ingredients in the crockpot, but, still. For me, it's cooking.) So I really need to put the fingers on the keyboard and actually have stuff come out.
I need my Muse to get off of Mount Olympus and get her ass back here. Pronto. Cuz I got work to do.
I'll admit it. I (along with thousands and thousands of other people) am a LOST fanatic. The last couple of weeks have been torture for me, because the network was showing reruns. Last night, the newest episode. I'm on pins and needles watching it, because the build-up has been that someone--a main character--is going away, never to return. As I'm watching, I'm saying, Man, that Shannon is such a whiney, self-centered, spoiled crybaby. The only thing she's done is translate some French and give Sayid a chance to get laid. Please, let it be her.
I admire the writing and plot twists of the show. I am on the edge of my seat the entire hour. (Well, not during commercials, but you know what I mean.) As the former lives of those stranded on the island are revealed, you see how their lives have criss-crossed each other's, even for the briefest of moments. As a writer, you can learn a lot about scene creation by paying attention to clever shows and movies.
(Off on a tangent, sort of. I watched Sin City with a friend a few days ago. The movie was dark and clearly written from a man's point of view. I mean, all the women were either prostitutes or pole dancers, except for one barmaid. Even a nurse that showed up later was really a prostitute on loan. Sheesh. But... the writing was excellent. There were some really great lines. One that particularly stands out for me, as a romance writer, was "She smelled like angels ought to smell." (Or something like that. It's been a few days.) But, here the writers pulled in the sense of smell to help create the scene.)
In LOST, you clearly see the characters' motivations--and sometimes, for the more secretive people, not so clearly. (Like many, many other women, I'm rooting for bad-boy Sawyer. Woo-doggie!)
And the end of the show last night? Well, after a few scary moments where Sawyer was concerned, the character that bit the dust was (drum roll here for those of you who didn't see the show)... Shannon. Killed by the beeyatch Anna.
Next week promises to be even more exciting. Stay tuned.
I got a call from my doctor's office this morning with some much needed good news.
Let me give you some background info, first. You know those commercials for one of the cholesterol medications--the ones that show food and Aunt Ethel and Uncle Joe? The premise of the commercial is that cholesterol problems are a result of both the foods we eat and genetics. My dad, who eats like a garbage disposal (meaning, just about anything) and is about 150 pounds overweight, has perfect cholesterol. The bad cholesterol is low, the good cholesterol is high. My mom, who gets on the treadmill just about every day, watches what she eats and is maybe 30 pounds overweight, has just the opposite. High bad cholesterol, low good cholesterol.
Me? I got the weight issues from my dad, the cholesterol issues from my mom. Tell me that's fair. It's not. Bah.
Well, anyway, the last time I went into the doctor's office for my annual "put your feet in the stirrups and say aah" and blood tests, my doctor told me she wanted me have a Calcium Score Test. A CST is kind of like a CRT. The technician hooks 4 electrodes up to you (or whatever they're called), lays you on a table that pulls you chest deep into a metal donut. Then the machine takes a picture of your heart and arteries. (You have to hold your breath to the count of 50. Try it. It's not that easy. It's not really hard, but it's not that easy.) This picture shows the amount of plaque build up in your arteries.
Now, allegedly, doctors only order this test because they're concerned. Because you're a prime candidate for heart disease. Because your bad cholesterol is high and your good cholesterol is low.
Can you see me sweating? God, I'm about ready to have a heart attack worrying that I'm going to have a heart attack.
So, today, The Call. My CST was 0. Zero. Which is the lowest score you can get. The best score you can get. Oy vay. All that biting of the nails for nothing.
At least with the shorter nails, I can type better.
I've managed to stay on goal with my NaNo project, although on Monday I wasn't so sure I'd be able to. It was a struggle to get written what I did, and that was less than 1,000 words. Not gonna get to 50,000 words on November 30th by writing 1,000 words a day. Ain't gonna happen.
Yesterday, I managed to corral myself and focus on writing. I made my goal with NaNo, plus got 900 words closer to finishing the short story I'm working on. Should be finishing the little story today, and plan on starting another one. I'm taking the advice of Angela Knight. In a message board on the Passionate Ink site recently she recommended that many successful writers started out by writing a lot of short stories. I am finding that I can do well with 8-10,000 word shorts. It forces me to write lean and mean, to so speak.
So, today, it's (hopefully) another 2,000 words on NaNo, and finish the short. (Or, in the words of Pinky and the Brain: "Say, Brain, what do ya wanna do tonight?" "The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world.")
One short story at a time...
The most memorable characters are those who are likeable, striking a chord with readers, but who are also imperfect, flawed. I think part of the problem with some of the heroes of the 80s' romance novels were, because of the authors' efforts to make the hero flawed, the heroes were turned into harsh, unyielding a-holes. Men who forced the women they supposedly loved into sex because the hero wanted it, or because the hero knew best and "knew" that the heroine really wanted to have sex with him, even though she said no. And then the brainless, bimbo heroines rolled over and let the heroes have their way with them, their hands across their foreheads and bosoms heaving.
And we wonder why romances are still called 'bodice-rippers.' Ack.
Making a character flawed does not mean turning him or her into people no one would like in real life. It means, for one thing, focusing on the character's vulnerabilities. These can be physical or emotional, but they have to be tied to the character. What makes your heroine sad? What frightens her? What wrongs has she done to others that she now regrets?
Also, you must understand what your character wants. What's at stake for him? What pushes him to make the decisions he makes? What does he stand to gain or lose by the end of the story? (And if this sounds familiar, yes, its the M of GMC.)
Your job as a writer is to become your characters. What things will your characters focus on? Of course, you have to listen to your characters, find out about them. Just because you like bleu cheese dressing on your salad doesn't mean your heroine does.
Find out about them, then look at the world through their eyes. And write.
I have a couple of writing buddies that help keep me accountable for what I've said I'll do. We set goals each week, then see if we've been able to achieve those goals.
My problem? For whatever reason, I don't remember that I've set the goals.
For example, last Sunday my goals were: 1) write at least 12K on my NaNoWriMo, 2) finish my short story, and 3) keep up with Pro Bootcamp (which is a 3-week online "class" for members of RWA who have Pro status, i.e., they've submitted (and, in some cases, been rejected) a novel-length manuscript to an RWA-recognized publisher.
How did I do? Well, on #1, I managed just over 10K. While that keeps me "on goal" for the purposes of NaNoWriMo, I didn't meet my personal goal. Because I didn't remember I'd set it. (Can you see me rolling my eyes?)
On #2... well, that one I did accomplish. Finished the story and submitted it, and started a new one.
#3 was pretty easy, so it really doesn't count.
This week I'm determined to write at least 14K on NaNoWriMo (2K above my personal goal of last week, since I missed it by 2K) and finish the current short story.
Now, if I can only remember... Oh, write it down, you say? Yeah. I could do that. Hmm.
