What Color Is Your Quill

One of the side effects of taking such a long break from my writing, and, now, coming back to it, is that I've been giving a lot of thought to what kind of writer I want to be. Hence the terrible entry title. I know what I want to do, so I can skip the parachute books, but now I need to determine how I want to do it. 

I don't like heading into things without a plan, and I feel like that has been a major deterrent in my writing so far, that I am wandering around without a coherent map to follow. So before I started drawing one I started looking through my bookshelf to think about whose career I'd most like to have, and how knowing that can help me draw the map I want to follow. 

And aside from the JK Rowlings and the Stephanie Meyers of the shelf, I've chosen three authors whom I'd most like to be like when I grow up.

Richelle Mead, C.E. Murphy, and  Rachel Vincent. I mean, seriously, look at those backlists. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of other authors who I admire. People who have written books that the prose will wishing I had written that or I could string sentences together in that way that can leave you breathless. 

But the ladies above, while their writing is lovely, would definitely fall into the commercial fiction side of things. And I love that about them. Some of my favorite authors telling damn good stories, action packed, and more importantly, full of characters that I adore. And that is what I want to do.

Before my break I spent a lot of time worrying that my writing wasn't enough of this or that. And really, if you boil it down, I was reading things that get described as lyrical. As literary fiction. And that was the light I was holding my own work up to and trying to figure out why I wasn't that. But I don't write literary fiction. My voice will never be described as lyrical. 

Comparing myself, my work, to those others was doing me a disservice. I writer commercial fiction. Most work will always be plot-driven stories centered around strong women who are either literally or metaphorically kicking butt. And I'm okay with that. Because looking at my bookshelf reminded me of something. So are most of my favorite books.

I would be ecstatic to have a career in writing half as successful as any of the ladies above. So now it's just a matter of deciding what to work on, and plowing through it until I find the right story at the right time and sell my first book. Now if I could teach myself to have the work ethic of Lynn Viehl or Lilith Saintcrow I'd be golden. Except for the fact that all I'm hearing lately is editors do not want anymore paranormal YA, and that covers about 80% of the ideas, and most of what I want to write. But ah well, that's another post for another time.

Obvious Observations

I have been a bad blogger. So bad, in fact, that honestly, I should just delete this thing.

The last 6 months there have been so many other things, it just didn't even occur to me to spend time on this thing, if I'm being honest. With some family issues, my job, and finishing the latest book, there was always something more pressing to focus on. But I have decided I miss this.

I moved into a new place. Just O and I, no roommates. I couldn't be happier. And we're both up for a promotion at work. Interviews for the new position will probably be scheduled in the next couple weeks. We're researching to buy a new car, and are planning our very first vacation for July. It's good times. And I think I'm in a good place to update this thing again. Funny how much easier it is to do when things aren't in emergency mode all the time.

So now that I have a big new kitchen all to myself, there will likely be new cooking posts. And now that I'm tearing the last book apart and rewriting it, there will likely be more writing posts. And we bought a new tv and bluray player for the new place, so I suspect some tv/movie review posts too. But for today, it's just a hey, I'm not dead over here post.

"She said to come claim what was mine"

My well has run dry.  That's not entirely accurate. There's plenty in the well. Just...not what I need.

My sister in law can eat and eat and eat, and then finally declare herself full. Only to turn around and have a piece of cake five minutes late. "I have two stomachs," she says. "One for savory and one for sweet. Just because savory is full doesn't mean I can't eat something sweet."

Which is pretty much what is happening to me right now. I've been reading a lot more lately. I've finished Anna and the French Kiss, Hex Hall, and Demonglass. They all refilled my well immensely. I feel like the part of my well that I need to start drafting my next WIP is overflowing. They were perfect examples of things I want to do, works to aspire to.

But I have work to finish on Feral before I move on to that project. And that well feels bone dry. Something is missing and I can't figure out what. The fuel I need to figure it out, the well I need for that work...there's nothing there. And I just can't tell what I need to fill that well. So I keep trying to push forward with that work, and feel my wheels spinning in the muck at the bottom of my empty well. Do not ask me what I'm doing trying to drive in my empty well. The metaphor well is also empty, apparently. ;)

But I'm trying to push forward and get that work done. Trying to do things like read and  create other things and hike until I shake loose the thing that is missing. On another note, I need a new journal. My last one only has a couple pages left and they are reserved for a short I've been working on in it.

I love buying new journals. *Happy squee*

30 Goals for 30

Yesterday I turned 27. Not a particularly significant event in our society. But it had me thinking about my life, what I've done, what I still want to do. I only have three years left before 30. Which made my brain to its twitchy little thing where it starts forming lists. And 30 Goals for 30 was born.

It started as just a list of things to work towards, and then very quickly got edited and turned into a list of things to push myself. Push myself to try new things, get over fears, push the boundaries of what I can do.

• write 6 novels 
• write 36 short stories
• run a marathon by my 30th birthday
• read 300 books
• learn another language
• learn to knit (make a pair of socks, a pair of fingerless gloves, and a Doctor Who scarf as proof)
• start rock climbing
• take krav maga classes
• join a roller derby team
• cook 156 new recipes
• write 156 handwritten letters to my grandparents
• write 1095 diary entries
• take 1095 pictures
• take a stained glass or glass blowing class
• take a belly dance class
• learn to play an instrument
• do 288 hours of community service
• go to a ren faire in a costume I made myself
• go to a combination of 12 plays/symphonies/art exhibits
• vote in every election after spending adequate time familiarizing myself with the options
• start doing either yoga or pilates, or a combination of the two
• take a class at my local community college for something I do not want to go back to school for
• read the dictionary
• watch 156 classic movies
• pass the FBI physical exam
• take a firearms class
• take a fencing class
• take a kendo class
• eat at 18 new-to-me non-chain restaurants
• take a trip to someplace I've never been

So, aside from my interests in writing and cooking and rambling on the internet, this has just become a place where I will also track my progress towards these 30 goals and pushing myself as a person. Expect sporadic updates as I work towards them.

Though, I have decided that since I came up with this list last week, I will count the two books I've read since then, Anna and the French Kiss and Hex Hall (somebody got a Nook for her birthday and fell in love with reading all over again). But all three of these things deserve their own posts, because ZOMG!

So 2 books down, 298 to go. This is one goal I'm definitely feeling good about. Also, the marathon goal is daunting, but I've re-started my one mile walks and my mother is getting me new walking/jogging shoes for my birthday. It might take all three years, but I can do eet! Go me! :)

I Wrote A Book...Again

I finished writing my rough draft of Feral eight days ago. You'd think it would have been a bigger deal. I mean, I wrote a book. But finishing the book came and went in my life with little remark.

I think there were two main reasons for this. 1.) I was busy. O and I are at work 50 hours per week, we had scheduled our mandatory summer overtime, we had a baptism class, and we became Godparents. 2.) Even more likely why I didn't get super worked up about it, I knew in my gut I wasn't done.

I thought I knew myself as a writer. I write long and make lots of cuts during revisions. This was the case with the last novel I wrote, this has been the case with most short stories I've written. I thought it was just a given.

I was wrong.

When I finished the zero draft of Feral, it clocked in at 65,000 words. Don't get me wrong, I realize this is long enough to be a full YA for some writers, and not every story is the same. I was just a bit flabbergasted that I'd written something so short. So when I didn't jump and dance and celebrate at my zero draft being done, I thought it was just because I'd done this before, and I knew I had lots of revising and editing to do before it was ready to go out into the world.

Well, I've just finished doing my first read through and taking notes on what needs to be fixed. And I have a new theory. I didn't get super excited because in my gut, I knew a had more to write. After my first read-through, I now have a list of 29 scenes that need to be written or re-written. Which sounds very big and scary, but I'm more excited than anything.

29 scenes sounds like a lot. But looking over the list, it varies from an entirely new scene that needs to be written beginning to end from scratch, to a three paragraphs of a scene that have to be slightly re-written because something changed in the plot.

O asked me for an estimate of how long I think it will take to get through the list. Honestly, I'm not really sure. I don't think it will be very long, given how excited I am to get it done. But you never know what kink will pop up. But I do know one thing. It will get done faster if I get to work on it. So, hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work I go.

Captain America

Despite having to be to work today, O and I decided to head off to a midnight showing of Captain America. I'm not a Marvel fangirl. My love of Marvel basically boils down to the X-Men and whoever gave me Chris Hemsworth's abs as Thor. I have no deep love of Cap. He's too much like Cyclops, IMO, a goody-two-shoes. I always preferred Wolverine, Gambit, etc.

Suffice it to say, I wasn't excited for the movie. But I was willingly to go along to see it. I'd gone to see Green Lantern and even enjoyed parts of it, for Pete's sake.

Overall thoughts: I enjoyed myself thoroughly. There are a few nitpicks I have that really bothered me, but there were things I really liked as well. It was funny. There was no lack of laughter in my packed theater.

I liked what they did with Peggy Carter. She was one of the better written women in a comic movie lately. Especially after watching the dishrag of a Carol Ferris in Green Lantern. Peggy was strong, motivated, and managed to be both of those things without being hard or losing her femininity. You can be a badass and girly. I like characters that manage to have both.

But I must say, I have one big nitpick with this movie. Maybe I'm the only person that it bothered, but it was hard to accept and pulled me somewhat out of the story. I can accept the lame science behind making a super soldier. Whatever. It's comic book cheese, I expect some of it. BUT! If you tell me a shield is going to protect someone from bullets and disintegrating rays because it's made of vibranium and absorbs all vibrations/shocks that hit it, how exactly are you going to expect me to believe it will hit something and bounce back to Cap? You do understand how things ricochet, right, Captain America writers?

Yes, comic book, I know. But for some reason, despite all the other things I could be nitpicking, that's the thing that left me grinding my teeth throughout the movie. Still, despite that, I had fun. Plus, it's almost worth the ticket price just for the bit after the credits. I can't wait.

Overall, I'd give Captain America a B+.

Tortoise vs the Hare

I had several false starts on my WIP. My current draft now stands at:

I've basically torn this thing apart so many times as I've gone, that I've removed nearly as many words from the file as I still have left in it. You'd think, that if I were a normal person, that would make me frustrated or sad. Lately it's been making me a little giddy. Yes, I know, well adjusted I am not.

But here's the thing. I recently had hit that part of the book where I hated it, couldn't stand it, was absolutely sure it was all crap. So far, for just about everything I've completed, that kicks in about a third of the way through and last until I hit the last third. I spend a third of the the thing I'm writing convinced I've spent countless hours typing useless drivel.

And I would have done so with this one too. Except! Except, I have all those wrong words to look back at. Which I did this weekend. And then I gave my current draft a once over. They may not all be the right words, but they're mostly in the right place. Which supplied me with a little pick me up that kept me from hating this book or thinking it's awful.

It may have taken me awhile, but this book is nearly halfway, and well on track to be done in late July or early August, in pretty decent shape. Don't get me wrong, I'll have my work cut out for me when I start revisions. Who doesn't? But I'm more confident about this book, than I have been anything else I've written, so far.

So here's crossing my fingers, plugging away--current goal is at least 1k/day--and hoping when I hand it over to some crit partners, they don't think it's a steaming pile.