Animal Farm does have animals in it and I do like Upton Sinclair. And spearmint (but not really).

I was conversing with a friend the other day about my last posting. First, let me begin by stating that we had already established earlier in the morning that I was on the struggle bus. However, as our conversation progressed, it quickly became evident that I was not, indeed, on the bus. No - a suspender for my mittens had gotten tangled in the bumper and I was being dragged behind it, unbeknownst to the struggle bus driver, who was clearly struggling, as well. (I mean really, how hard is it to look in the rearview mirror and see the poor soul stuck to the bumper amid a cloud of dust and gravel?)

One of those completely random fits of utter stupidity that I am so well known for had struck again. I mentioned that Animal Farm had also come to mind as I prepared my list of 15 books in 15 minutes, but I had left it off. I went on to state how I loved that Animal Farm didn’t have animals in it and was about American industrialism and so forth. My friend stared at me with wide eyes as if I was the dumbest person on Earth. At the moment, I probably was.

As she rightly pointed out, Animal Farm does have animals in it. She thought perhaps I had gotten Animal Farm confused with The Jungle by Upton Sinclair.

“Oh, I love Upton Sinclair!” I exclaimed. Yeah...that didn’t really help my case.

Upon looking at general summaries for both books, I found that Animal Farm (with animals) was actually about the Russian Revolution and while The Jungle did fit more in line with what I was thinking about, I couldn’t recall ever having read it. And thus began the search for the Upton Sinclair book that I had read and prompted my exclamation of love.

I couldn’t find one.

Quite a bit of ribbing ensued, which I took in good nature because I had earned it. However, on a deeper level, my confusion bugged me. I can see how one could get the two books confused, but how could it happen to someone who had vehemently gone on and on about literature this and literature that only a day or so earlier, struggle bus or not? I wondered if it was my memory playing tricks on me again or if I had read the books and just forgotten. I really wanted to figure it out. And I did.

These books weren’t discussed in any of my English or Literature classes. I’ve never read either of them.

One of my high school history teachers used them in a lesson and history was my worst subject (even though I’m very interested in history now). For whatever reason, this particular lesson stuck with me despite being buried under a mental avalanche. Upon recognizing the rubble and clearing it away, I was able to recall how much admiration I felt for the authors due to how they tackled their subject matter. Animal Farm remains fuzzy in my memory, but if I put myself back into my 16-year-old shoes, I can imagine being impressed with using a tale about animals to convey a much deeper and profound meaning. After all, I feel the same way about how Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust subtly hid a story about social classes and racism, and the harsh effects of both, beneath a façade of vampires and blood. And how there is only one constant, D. Everything else is not as it seems. (This is one case where the movie far exceeds the book. I highly recommend the movie over the book...but I digress.)

As for my proclamation regarding Mr. Sinclair...well, The Jungle stuck with me because it was more relevant to the topic and therefore discussed in more depth. (And given that it dealt with the meat packing industry, I can see where I might think of Animal Farm instead.) I remember my teacher talking about the horrid conditions described in the book and how even though it was a work of fiction, those conditions were apt and accurate depictions of life at the time, which outraged the public. The fact that the book takes place in Chicago probably also piqued my interest, since I live in Illinois and have a particular fondness for the city. More importantly is the novel’s historical relevance - and that, I believe, is why I said “Oh, I love Upton Sinclair!” He aimed for the masses and ending up grabbing the president’s attention with his words - the President of the United States. My 16-year-old self says, “That’s just awesome!”

Incidentally, the same president affected by The Jungle is the one I admired for the Panama Canal and the quote “walk softly but carry a big stick.” I know it’s Theodore Roosevelt, but every single time, the first president who comes to mind is Woodrow Wilson, another man that I greatly admired because of his involvement in creating the League of Nations, which later led to the formation of the United Nations. It’s funny, the things that stick with you and get muddled together by your brain.

Spearmint, on the other hand? No. I do not like it. No matter what I say. That little inside joke came from yet another random fit of utter stupidity that I can’t explain. It wasn’t the first and it won’t be the last, but at least I can say that I resolved one misunderstanding. I can’t take back looking like an idiot, but at least I figured it out why it happened!

Two Posts in One Day? EGAD MAN!!

I stole a Facebook status from a friend today that required me to list 15 albums in 15 minutes. Not in any particular order - just whatever came to mind first. Seeing as how everything at the forefront of my brain was anime-related, such as Bleach OSTs 1, 2, and 3, Bleach Beat Collections 1, 2, 3, etc (there are like 50 Bleach-related albums...no joke), The Jill Decoy Association from Red Garden, Yoko Kanno from just about everything (Cowboy Bebop, Ghost in the Shell, Macross Plus, etc, etc, etc), I forced myself to take a minute to think of something normal. The list I came up definitely revealed my eclectic tastes, even minus a single classical title (although I did think of Beethoven's Piano Sonatas, which I adore, and Ave Maria as sung by Christina England...which was used in the game Hitman Blood Money (which I also adore)).

This prompted me to think about what book titles would first pop into my noggin if I did the same thing. Seeing as how I like to write, I thought seeing this list might reveal my influences. So here it is, 15 books in 15 minutes:

1. The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe
2. The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
3. Ivanhoe, Sir Walter Scott
4. Green Eggs and Ham, Dr. Seuss
5. The Magic Cottage, James Herbert
6. Tales of Terror, compiled by Alfred Hitchcock
7. Dracula, Bram Stoker
8. Vampire Hunter D: Twin Shadowed Knight, Hideyuki Kikuchi
9. Of Mice and Men, Ernest Hemingway
10. Black Rainbow, Barbara Michaels
11. The Witching Hour, Anne Rice
12. Magic Elizabeth, Norma Kassirer
13. The Martian Chronicles, Ray Bradbury
14. The Illustrated Man, Ray Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451 also came to mind, but I already had two Bradburys on the list)
15. The Eyes of the Dragon, Stephen King
Honorable mention: A Raisin in the Sun, Lorraine Hansberry

Yes. You did see Dr. Seuss and Poe on the same list. Don't gouge your eyes out. I imagine that might hurt a bit.

I grew up reading and, in my teen years, took as many literature classes as possible, so books like The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe, The Great Gatsby, and Of Mice and Men, and others, like The Old Man and the Sea, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, and Beowulf, had a great impact on me and my perception of writing. Now that's not to say that I didn't also read Sweet Valley High, The Babysitter's Club, or any R. L. Stine book I could get my hands on. As a kid, The View From a Cherry Tree, A Wrinkle in Time, and Magic Elizabeth were my favorite books. As I got older, I began reading V.C. Andrews, which, really, once you've read one of her books, you've read them all. Just rename the characters and move them to a new locale. But I loved to read and would go through a book a night...so I read them all - at least until the writing team that was hired to continue the late Ms. Andrews' books began to lose her writing style. I digress. As much as I loved (and still love) the literary greats (back to Poe & Hemingway here, not Andrews ^_-), a lot of those books were chosen for classes and read for report writing. Even a teenager who loved to read would find that a chore. So in my down-reading-time, I selected titles by Mary Higgins Clark, Barbara Michaels, Agatha Christie, and Anne Rice. I also read Ellery Queen and other mystery compilation magazines. Heck, when Harlequin came out with their mystery romance line, I even started picking those up. I was hungry to read just about everything I could (should I note here that I worked in a library for four years?). I gravitated mostly to mysteries, with or without a romantic twist, but also sought non-fiction, reading everything I could about anything that interested me. While I may not read as much as I used to, I still carry at least one book around with me everywhere, and I can say that looking back at the my list of 15 and my life in books, I truly see how my writing style developed the way it did. If you think I'm going to explain that, sorry. That's a whole 'nother post.

If anyone is surprised by the lack of manga titles, fear not. I purposefully left them off. And before anyone cries foul that Vampire Hunter D made the list - while the series does come in graphic form, my collection, and the specific book I mentioned, is a true to life novel with words and everything. ^_^ However, should I be tasked with 15 manga titles in 15 minutes...well, I would cheat, because they are right above my head. But since the question was posed...I suppose I could oblige, and in order of preference, too...

1. Vampire Hunter D (but wait! It's a novel! Well yeah, but it does have illustrations and it sits with my manga collection, and I do have one of the graphic novels (even though I'm not a fan of them). I'm cheating anyway, so what'd you expect?)
2. Bleach
3. Vampire Knight
4. Hellsing
5. Loveless
6. Trigun Maximum
7. Trigun
8. Descendants of Darkness (please finish the series, Yoko Matsushita-san!!)
9. Sailor Moon (technically comic books, but whatever)
10. Cowboy Bebop
11. Blood +
12. Gravitation
13. Tenchi Muyo!
14. Captive Hearts
15. Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles

That's only a list from what I own. There are many titles I'm interested in reading and many of them would bump several off the preferred list (Please Save My Earth, for example - loved the DVD, but a lot of the story was lost in the transformation from paper to animation, and the story left me wanting so much more that I researched the background and fell even more in love with it. I cannot wait to add these to my collection, but that is going to take some time).

What would you come up with if asked to name 15 books in 15 minutes? I welcome anyone reading this blog to post their lists in the comments section.

Cheers!

Dun, dun-dun, DUN!!!!

‎"A black cat crossing your path signifies that the animal is going somewhere." ~ Groucho Marx

Meet Groucho Marx Pavlik! The newest addition to our clowder (which includes a dog and some fish, so I'm not sure what that turns into...a clan, maybe?). He likes lots of catnaps, shiny metal things like the cross or St. Benedict metal I wear around my neck and my cell phone charms, the tv, and my laptop. He also loves to cuddle and purr quite loudly, and to watch the other cats (I think he wishes they would play with him, but they only want to smack him around). A little on the shy side, he pretty much plops down into a ball wherever I put him, or if left to his own whim, the first thing he does is hide...behind a fake tree, under the bed, under the electronics cabinet...behind the toilet...wherever. He's little. He fits about anywhere. He was born in July...no wonder the rescue group named him Leo. I chose his new name while I watched him wrestle with his sister in the cage. All dressed up in tuxedo with a big sweep of white over his lip? How could I not say Groucho? All he needs is a pair of glasses and a cigar. ^_-

I did what now? Oh! Right, right...

My memory sucks. For the most part. Every now and then, it throws something good my way...although, if I didn't forget everything, then the good parts wouldn't be necessary. But hey, I'll take the good with the bad, because it is what it is.

For months upon months, I've been agonizing over the query letter for my first manuscript. A few days ago, I woke up with some fantastic thoughts on the matter and, in my still groggy-state, grabbed the pen and pad off the nightstand and started scribbling. Then I fired up my laptop (all without leaving my bed - my laptop is literally that close to me at all times...almost) and started typing away in a blank document. And then...I opened up the letter's most recent carnation.

Wow. All that agony for nothing. The summary was better than what I had had in my head when I woke up, and the letter itself sounded pretty good. Or, at least it did to me - an agent might think otherwise and tell me stuff it. ^_^

So now that that is all taken care of and I've finished yet another revision of Confessions (and have a copy out for a beta-test - crossing fingers!), I've turned my attention back to The Arrival. It is finally time for the last critique and my thoughts to coalesce in digital form, and I must say, the manuscript is better for it. I'm noticing places where words should be changed, seeing redundancies in the action, and removing just plain unnecessary-ness. The result is cleaner and smoother, and frankly, easier to read. I've been pleasantly surprised. Not only by the results, but by how easy it's been to pick these things out. I truly thought this would be the most difficult revision to date, but really, it's been going well. I've removed nearly 300 words from the starting word count and I'm still in Chapter One.

So, that's where I'll leave it. I'm digging the trenches and don't want to stop. I may not be on a time crunch, but I do want to start querying some day, and some day will never come if I don't get the work done! Cheers!

Music Puts the Mind in Motion...or Not

Nobody does it better
Makes me feel sad for the rest
Nobody does it half as good as you
Baby, you're the best

I wasn't lookin' but somehow you found me
I tried to hide from your love light
But like heaven above me
The spy who loved me
Is keepin' all my secrets safe tonight

Okay, so the song was originally made for The Spy Who Loved Me, one of many awesome Bond movies. (I would say, "Aren't they all?" but really, Timothy Dalton?) BUT, in this case, it's one of the songs on the Mr. and Mrs. Smith soundtrack, and seven of those songs have been in my play list for at least the last week, which also means they've all been stuck in my head at various times. Right now, this would be the one. The other big two are Mondo Bongo and Lay Lady Lay.

None of the songs are like anything that I usually listen to - well, except for Tainted Love, because I do love 80s music. What I've found interesting about my attraction to this OST is that the music makes me feel good. It doesn't hype me up like some of the faster-paced stuff I listen to, or affect my mood like the angry or moody stuff I listen to to help with my writing. Oddly enough, it's almost as relaxing as listening to Beethoven or Ave Maria. I'm soothed and feel at peace. I can forget about everything and just lose myself in the music without any thoughts to interrupt the enjoyment.

That's a rarity for me in music sung in English. All too often, I'll find that I'll like a song until I really listen to the lyrics, and then I don't like it anymore, or I get so caught up in liking the song, that I have to sing along EVERY time I hear it (as is the case with just about every Beastie Boys song out there - what is it about those guys??).

Classical music and the Japanese stuff that I really like give me the freedom to sit back and enjoy the music for the music. There is no meaning behind it other than what I know the composer or musician intended, or the feeling I assign to it. There aren't any words to muddy the way.

Ha ha! And there's where I find my way to tie this post to my writing! A recent critique of my first manuscript went very well. The latter two thirds were great and flowed very well. However, the first third seemed too wordy for her taste. She is, admittedly so, not a "detail" person, and I am a detail writer, so there could be some understandable clashing of style there. But what she had to offer gave me a lot of food for thought (and please pardon the use of a such a cliche...I'm really too tired to come up with something more creative). Too many words really do muddy up the flow of the story and she gave me some perfect examples.

As with any advice, I have to decide how much to follow and how much to drop. Because this is my story to tell and I can't please everyone. Some people like the detail, some don't. I myself enjoy a middle ground. Anne Rice, Stephen King, and Barbara Michaels are all fantastic writers, but sometimes the writing gets bogged down in the details and I find myself skipping whole pages just to get back into the story. This is something that I was very conscientious of as I wrote, and something I thought long and hard about with every redraft as I cut back on more and more detail - removing unnecessary adverbs, rearranging sentences (or paragraphs...or pages), etc.

I'll continue to mull over the insights I've received probably as much as I'll continue to enjoy the music that is so uncharacteristic of me - which, really seems like an odd statement since just about everything is characteristic of me in some way. ^_^

I have time to reach a decision on what to do. I'm not in a rush and right now Confessions has my attention (or it should anyway...my PS3 is a little distracting and I got the latest editions of Bleach and Vampire Knight - YAY!). At least I'm giving it some attention today...Eric's about to commit a full on massacre--probably not something anyone who read the first manuscript would have seen coming. Everyone has a dark side and nobody's perfect - something I deliberately thought about as my characters took form. But that's another post for another time.

Oh...guess what's back on my player? Nobody does it better...baby you're the best. I didn't even notice. ^_^

This post shall have no name.

I've surpassed the dive into the manga realm to swim in its inky depths at full force. At present, I'm reading four different titles, have a brand new one to start, and four oldies that I need to finish up. And that doesn't include my obsession with the Vampire Hunter D novel series, so throw the most recent release into my current read pile. Now add all this to a growing list of titles that will find their way into my collection, later rather than sooner, I'm afraid. (Someone went a little manga crazy last month...no need to name names - this IS the post with no name after all).

So...what does this have to do with anything? Well, in truth, not much, except that I've noticed how manga authors jot notes down along a page here or there. They talk about what they like, their stories, their tools, and at times they have nothing to say or don't know what to say. So they talk about that.

That's where I found myself. Wanting to blog, but not really having a topic to blog about. Anyone who knows me knows that I can talk on and on about absolutely nothing of consequence, and that a plethora of useless knowledge sits inside my head. Each informational tidbit just waits for its turn to see the world, because each one knows, that eventually, my mouth is going to open and say something. Anything. Even if it's nothing. Do I have some random, useless tidbit to unleash here...um...no. Not today.

In thinking about writing about nothing, I started to think about something. This pops into my head from time to time, and has been happening with more frequency lately because I know I'm getting to the point where I can't keep putting it off. I need a query letter and a synopsis for my manuscript.

Now...I have one of both already, actually. I've just never been very happy with either, and the former has had many, many incarnations. In fact, one of them even earned me a request for a partial (yay! my heart sang!), but the manuscript was only a few months old at that time and was in no shape to be seen by agent eyes. What I thought was good then, was horrible. Awful. Gah! I think a teenage term-paper would have been written better.

But years have passed since then and every single time I read my manuscript, I make changes. I follow agent and author blogs, I've read posts at writing forums, I've done research into the publishing world. Most importantly, I've honed my grammar skills and made my writing better. (Whether or not this blog reveals those skills, I have no idea...maybe not...)

Query letter. Synopsis. Ug. I dread both, so much. Yes - I can sum up my story in one sentence. That part is easy, even though I feel that the one sentence is far too general to display the complexities of the story. In a query letter, I get a few a paragraphs...the sweet spot for a query letter is about 250 words. The synopsis is different. Some people say it can be several pages, some say it should be one. Whether its a query letter or a synopsis, though, the writing should convey the tone of the story and my writing style.

Egad, Batman! How can I possibly convey the tone of the story and my writing style in a one page synopsis of a story that follows three main characters? Their lives intertwine, intersect, and crosscut, with each connection making a permanent change somewhere on one (or sometimes more) of their lives. They are the moving force within the story, the device without which the plot cannot operate, and each is different. They form three parts of one story that must ultimately hinge somewhere or else the plot would fall apart. These characters have their own back stories, flaws, strengths, downfalls, and emotions, and they form the foundation for everything that happens - even beyond the external components and the external force that compels the plot to exist in the first place.

I'm certainly not saying that I'm the only author procrastinating or that my story is too complex to summarize. The fault rests with my inability to pick apart what's most important, focus on that, and let the rest fall into place. Sometimes, talking to myself here helps...so that's I'm going to do. Welcome to my blog-brainstorm. No thunder and lightning, I promise.

I have my female lead, a young woman who unknowingly spent her entire life living in a protective bubble who must realize that the world around her has never actually existed as her eyes saw it. She begins the story feeling dreadful and anxious, and yet when more turmoil stirs up her reality, she is calm and at peace. She is mysterious and doesn't experience the emotional upheaval we would expect her to feel.

Then there is the male in the hero role, a man who has strength, power, and a will to protect, but is forced to recognize that he does not always have control and that failure can never be put off forever. Hope and revenge lurk equally in his heart, and as the story progresses, he must decide if he will choose love or hate, and then he must accept the consequences of that decision.

And finally, my villain - or at least, the male in the villain's role, a restless force of violence and lust that has been pursuing the hero for more than a century. These two men share a bond by blood, but for this one, that is not enough, and he has craved to wield his power and status over the hero to force him into submission for a long time. Alas, this one must realize that his power can only reach so far, and that the meekest of lambs can tame the fiercest of lions.

She is a feather, floating on rough and still waters alike, content to just be with her constant companion.

He is the ocean, carrying the feather, but unable to protect it from the world's wrath or stop his forward momentum as he pulled across the Earth's surface by the moon's gravity.

He is the moon, the all seeing guardian of night who controls the tides, and with them, the seasons, the weather, and life in general - no one and nothing can escape his grasp.

And yet, beyond them, there is an ever expanding universe with an agenda of its own. To the Universe, a feather, the ocean, and the moon, and their interactions with each other, no matter how pleasurable or how excruciating they may be, are insignificant. The Universe can change everything in an instant. And that is the way of the external force that drives the plot. There is a bigger picture, and it's not until the very end that it comes into focus.

Sometimes I wish it was as easy as Jack and Jill went up a hill. They had just one purpose - to get a pail of water. Who would have thought doing such a thing would have such dire consequences?

I like my story. That's a good thing, I'm sure. And I'm not the only one who likes it. Incidentally, everyone who has read it has had different things to say, but every single one reached a point where they thought to themselves, "Oh my God, I'm going to kill her!" So they drive me to keep at it, and keep working to make is as perfect as I possibly can. But that doesn't help me with my query letter or my synopsis, and without those, I can't get an agent. >_<

Hopefully, when I sit down to rewrite my query letter and get serious about the agent hunt again, I can look back at this post for some inspiration. Thanks for bearing with me. And thank you manga authors for your awesome stories and personal notes! ^_^

The Earth is in motion. Prepare yourself.

My husband has cryptically told me that he ordered me five things that will bring out my inner Sheldon. The only thing I know is that these five things are on back order, so I may not get them for a while.

In unrelated news...I want the Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock t-shirt from thinkgeek.

* Rock crushes lizard.
* Scissors decapitate lizard.
* Lizard eats paper.
* Lizard poisons Spock.
* Paper disproves Spock.
* Spock vaporizes rock.
* Spock bends scissors.

Bazinga!

I will never wear a pirate eye patch...

no matter how much like Howard Wolowitz I may be.

En garde! ^_^

The Dread Pirate R . . .

Fans of The Princess Bride undoubtedly expect me to follow that “R” with “oberts.” However, as much as I love that movie (I haven’t read the book - yet), “edraft” is destined to follow the “R” in this instance.

My first serious inkling to sit down and write my story came over sixteen years after the idea first popped into my head. Or rather, drifted into my head, as it happened one night as part of a nightmare/dream sequence that I wound up getting somewhat obsessed with (clearly). Twenty years have passed since then. And I’m still writing based on the initial foundation of that sequence - a girl being chased through a forest by a man in a cloak.

Granted, what was once a story about witches and witchcraft morphed into a tale of vampires and biblical prophecy, but the core is the same. Among other things, there is a girl being chased by a man in a cloak. Through a forest. ^_^

It took only three months to write the first draft of my first manuscript. To write out a story that had been in my head for so long. To type out words that I had tried to type out for years--all the way back to the days before home computers. I still have those very first pages and they bear the welted proof of typewriter keystrokes. Later versions are lined with the holey, perforated edges of dot-matrix printer paper, their electronic forms stored on obsolete 3.5” diskettes. (I feel the need to interject here that I am a huge fan of computing’s current form. My laptop can crash on me and curse at me all it wants, but that Windows-based appendage goes with me everywhere and always will. And yes, my laptop does curse at me. Quite frequently, actually. I know. It should be the other way around.)

Anyway. Back to the Dread Pirate Redraft. As I wrote and wrote and wrote, and wrote some more, I also did research into the publishing world (not enough at the time, I might add). I saw post after post about the dreaded redraft stage. So I started to dread the redraft stage. It took on a life and symbolism all its own, much like the real Dread Pirate Roberts, even though no one really knows who the real Dread Pirate Roberts is. All that matters is that he's out there and he's dreaded. So is the redraft. A dreaded necessity of writing.

What took me three months to write took me years to redraft. And rewrite. And edit. And redraft, rewrite, and edit some more. And then some. Again. Years.

But I didn’t dread any of it. Rather, I embraced it. I found it fun. And I loved (still love) getting feedback. Each carnation of the story was better than the last. And I saved each and every one. Sometimes I cringe when I read the early drafts because the grammar and style is so awful. But then I look at my second manuscript, which, though completed, is still in its infancy, and see many of the same things. The same mistakes and grammatical errors. Long sentences that need to be broken down into at least two, if not four or five. (Yikes!) Word choices that need simplification after getting a little thesaurus-happy. And typos from over eager fingers that thought they knew what my brain wanted to say when they really didn’t. (Hello - berets are hats and barrettes are things girls wear in their hair...I’m embarrassed to admit that I missed that one maaaaany times as I read through the story over and over and over. And over. Again.)

So now, four years after starting this madness, and two manuscripts later (with a third on the way, because my brain just can’t stop), I’m still in redraft mode. Does editing ever really stop? When is enough, enough? I mean, every time I look at the first manuscript, I catch something that I didn’t catch before, or I see a sentence or a word that seems a little bit off. And as I take time away from it to work on other projects (all continuations of the same story), the distance gained allows me to revisit the first manuscript with fresh eyes to catch even more things.

Really, to me, as the author who knows every intricate detail of the story, the ability to do this is fascinating. I can never truly see it with fresh eyes and not know what’s about to happen, where a certain scene is leading, or what’s going through a character’s mind that might contradict his or her actions. Redrafting is a way to learn more about the story and the characters, and to make the world they live in better than it was before. How can I possibly dread that?

Your characters know themselves better than you do.

Okay, so usually I know what I'm going to write when I sit down to write it, but more often than not, the story takes over and starts to tell itself. It forms connections within itself that I never would have thought of on my own and can take me to some of the most unexpected places. If that sounds kind of weird, it is...but it's also something I've heard other writers talk about.

Hmm.

So, along that same line, my characters can sometimes surprise me. Sometimes I don't know things about them until they tell me, but usually I have a decent idea of who they are and what I expect from them. Today, however, the story, my fingers, and one of my characters decided it was time for a shake up. And I don't mean the delicious lemon kind you get at fairs. (Yum.)

Lord Endymion kissed Raven. O_O

I didn't even know Endymion liked women. And I never saw him as a potential love interest for Raven. My intentions for them were wholly platonic. Not to mention that I didn't go into the scene with any sort of kissing planned. Now I have no idea what's going on.

All I know for sure is that when I left them, Raven was kissing him back, so I guess I'd better get back in there and figure out where they're about to take me.

When your muse decides to smack you the forehead, you should probably listen.

I found myself in a writing lull. Immediately my brain questioned the possibility of such a thing even existing. A writing lull? What is that? It didn’t know what to do. I started writing in January of 2007. I haven’t stopped since.

Now, never mind the fact that this story actually began in my head when I was 13 or 14, or that its very first words were handwritten and then typed out on a Tandy – one of the first home-based computers. The Tandy didn’t even have a hard drive for storage. The only thing it came with was a clunky monitor and a DOS-based operating system. Everything else had to be stored on diskettes. Back then the story was about witches and was called The Witches of Twilight Woods. I still have a diskette with the Tandy version on it.

Throughout my teen years, I revisited the story often — using the Tandy, typewriters, and then slowly evolving forms of the computers we use today. But I was too young and not serious enough to really finish it. Apparently, my muse finally decided it was time to change that in 2007. And it hasn’t released its hold on me since.

And so, I found myself in this “writing lull.” It’s this strange void where I find myself in a holding pattern awaiting critiques on the two manuscripts I have written so far. So what did my brain decide to do? Well much like a computer, it could not compute “writing lull” and process it into meaning. So...I started on my third manuscript and swiftly wrote out the first eighteen pages. Eighteen pages. In one day. And that’s not even a solid day, just a few hours really.

I consider fifteen pages in a solid day a good day. Of course, bear in mind that this eighteen pages does include the cover page and the page for the table of contents, but still, it also includes all the time it took to format the document properly and come on, even only counting sixteen pages is an accomplishment.

I have a few years with my muse, yet, I know. But I have to admit that I’m kind of scared of the day when I finish this trilogy. Especially when the muse has already made me write down the beginning of a potential number four and even given it a title. O_O