One Word At a Time

But as we know, the only constant in life is change. "The Yetis" meetups evolved into monthly dinners without writing. We became friends as well as people who enjoyed putting pen to paper. Eventually, members moved and the dinners became fewer until they stopped completely. Though we have all went our separate ways, I am blessed enough to still be in contact with most of our core members. I wish I could say "The Box of Doom" is still around. Sometime in the past  19 years it disappeared. The last know location was the trunk of L.'s car. Even though it is long gone, it is not forgotten. Its memory lives on in the stories created. "The Box of Doom" brought hours of joy to a group of creative writers who embraced it with open arms. Rest in peace, "Shay's Evil Random Story Generator" aka "The Box of Doom. 

May is here. Spring is in full swing and the world is coming back to life after a miserable winter of sub-zero temperatures and more snow than I am comfortable with it. It is time for me to reassess the goals I set for the year. 

Back in January, when I was crippled with bronchitis, I pledged to finish the second draft of  The Valiant by the end of April. I failed to reach this goal. I've only edited one third of the manuscript. Several road blocks prevented forward progress. I am pushing back my completion date to September 15th. The positive is I know where I want the story to go. I am almost certain on how the series should end. I can see script unfolding in my head. I only need to transfer what is in my brain to the page. 

Work on The Hunted stalled after I had a massive flare of condition in April. My goal is to be finished with the first draft of it by September 15th. I would also like to have a working outline for The Calling completed by then. I know these are ambitious goals considering I have a problem with consistence. I can work daily on my writing and then illness can push me back for a month. It is something I need to address if I hope to become a professional. 

After plotting my second novel in less than a year, I have story structure ingrained on my brain.

Inciting incident. check.

First major conflict check.

and so on. If you are a writer, then you know the drill. Even the most die-hard pantser has some idea about the path their story will take. Personally, I fall somewhere in the middle of plotting every detail and letting the story take me where it may.

Yesterday, my grandchildren were watching an old episode of Scooby-Doo and I was reminded of  Saturday mornings spent sitting in front of the television with a bowl of cold cereal balanced precariously on my lap. Back then I didn't  care about the predictably of the cartoon. It was reassuring in a way. I knew by the end of twenty minutes those crazy kids in the funky van would catch the bad guy. Now, I can see the structure of the story telling.

There is an inciting incident.

 Usually the van breaks down in the middle of nowhere near a creepy house, amusement park, movie theater, ect. and a mystery presents itself.

Conflict develops within the group as Shaggy and Scooby uncover a clue and no one takes them seriously. I can understand why they don't, a dog with a weird accent and an obvious stoner aren't exactly to be trusted.

Next, the heroes come up with a plan which usually fails and someone is kidnapped, in danger, ect. The group then splits up to cover more ground.

A chase scene infuses more conflict in the story.

 It is all wrapped up tidy at the end, usually deus ex machina, and the culprit turns out to be the last person anyone would suspect.

Yes, it is predictable, but I watched faithfully, every Saturday. I like to think I was waiting for Fred to break character and sweep Thelma off her feet.

When I first started my writing journey, I bought numerous books on the subject. One thing they all agreed on was the concept of "writing what you know." Did this mean I needed to trash my fantasy novel involving parallel universes? I'm not a student of quantum physics and the mechanics of my world were pulled from my warped brain. Was my story less since I was writing about things foreign to me? 

Of course not. I don't believe in "write what you know." I support the idea of "writing from you heart." In other words, write about things you love. In the case of novel writing, you will be working on your project for at least six months to a year, so the subject matter should be something you find interesting and are passionate about or you run the risk of losing interest. For example, someone who loathes world building probably shouldn't write a fantasy novel set in a make believe world. 

My stories tend to be more character driven, with the plot being secondary. In the past, I've abandoned projects when I couldn't love the main character. It is hard to spend time with characters you don't care about and sometimes come to detest. The characters who capture my affection are flawed yet still strong. The main character of the series I'm working on is an angry woman who is searching for the truth. I love the sensitive side of her nature and how it balances with angst she feels. 

The best advice I can give to new writers attempting to write their first novel is to make sure they love their story. Write from your heart. Tap into your feelings and use what you have experienced to bring your characters to life. You don't need to have fought dragons to write about them, but make sure you have tackled adversity and can relate to the emotions involved with slaying monsters.

March 24th is my blogging anniversary. I will have officially been splashing my words across the internet for ten years. Ten years. I've been writing with a purpose for ten, long years. For me, writing with a purpose means writing with the intent to sell the finished product. My thoughts about writing have changed since the day I started my journey. As a writer, I have matured. Looking back at my first attempts to compose a first draft make me ill. Then I remember I wouldn't be where I am today if it wasn't for those first mangled pieces of prose.

I've written over 3,600 posts spread across a variety of blog sites. I was regular on Livejournal when it was still cool and Facebook was just for college students. The posts range in content from silly memes to meaningful essays. They are a record of my progress and growth as a writer. Ten years later, I'm still chasing the dream I've had since I was old enough to hold a pencil in my hand. I honestly can not remember a time when I didn't write. 

Whether I publish a book or not, I know in my heart, I am a writer. Writer and Author are not synonymous. Authors are writers who have sold their creations. My dream isn't to be a writer. I am a writer. My lifelong dream is to publish a book and have others read my stories. I want others to join me in my imagination and love the characters I care about.

After many hours spent writing and staring at a blank computer screen, I discovered I work better with an ink pen held in my mouth. Picture a dog carrying a bone between its jaws, that is how I look when I'm hard at work creating other worlds. I don't know when this ritual began, but I have come to rely on it. I think it might have become a signal to my subconscious it is time to stop fooling around and get to business. 

Writers work differently. Some listen to music when they are writing, others do better in a quiet environment. Music helps me block out the outside world and concentrate on my story. Before I begin a new project, I create a playlist with songs related to my subject matter. I include a variety and lean toward songs I know rather than newer ones. This helps the music stays in the background rather than becoming the focus.

I envy writers who have created special spaces in which to practice their craft. I don't have the luxury of space to do so. My cousin bought an armoire she converted to a writing nook. During November, I spent the month on my daughter's love seat, turning it into my writing space. These days I work where ever I happen to be. A Facebook friend posted about Amtrack's residency for writers program and I wish I had the courage to apply. I've always wanted to ride the rails and write. It is on my list of things to do before I die. 

Condensing a novel to one or two sentences is hard. Trying to come up with a decent log line to describe my current WIP has been a nightmare. Mine remind me of cheesy movie trailers complete with the dramatic music and ridiculous pyrotechnics. 

An edgy, young woman with a hidden talent just wants a normal life. Instead, she finds herself protecting a young man marked for death by the man she trusts the most.

 It doesn't mention the secret organization she was born into or how everything she ever knew is falling apart. I will keep working on it. Edgy is the nice way to say angsty bitch who is pissed at the world. Our relationship is one of love and hate. It needs work. At times I feel she is too cliche. But I digress from my topic of choice. Compressing my idea into a few sentences is proving to be a near impossible task. 

Despite my recent failure to be prolific, I am celebrating my return to the world of words. Currently, I'm sitting in the dark, typing with Pink's Raise Your Glass blaring in my headphones. After I hit the publish button, I will be joining several fellow writers in chat. I'm hoping they can give me some guidance in the log line department, or at the very least help me restart my creative juices. My hiatus has ended.

My body isn't completely healed from the Great Upper Respiratory Infection of 2014. This fact has inspired my brain to shut down and become a pile of gray mush incapable of forming coherent sentences. I've written less than five hundred words in the past two weeks and I'm still working on the rewrite of chapter three. The good news is I am still excited about my new idea and have been thinking about characters and plot points. I know thinking isn't the same as writing the ideas on a page, but I like to wallow things around in my mind first before I start committing them to pen and paper. 

The problem with chapter three is it wasn't completely written in the first draft. It was roughly eight hundred words describing what I wanted the scene to be and the action that needed to occur. During NaNoWriMo it was enough. Now it is sadly lacking. I have the task of filling in the blanks. One of the characters in the scene changed as the story was progressing. At the end, she was a different person. It was a surprise to me as well as my main character. I want to reflect this change in the scene and it has been hard, hence the procrastination. 

The common cold had the power to derail my writing progress. In fact, my entire life was put on hold while I dealt with sneezing, coughing, and an over abundance of mucous. My time was spent in bed reading or watching sitcoms on my computer. I developed a Nyquil habit, chugging it back like a ho slamming tequila shooters. Rest, soup, and Cougar Town have vanquished my viral demon, leaving behind a croupy cough and dregs of mucous in my lungs. I feel better.

Writing shall recommence now I've won my brain back. I missed it, but I wasn't in any condition to be writing. No telling what I would have written in my stupor. I answered my phone and instructed my cousin on how many Aleve should take then promptly hung up on her. I jotted down a story idea.

Group of people traveling country in RV living off grid. They have unofficial meeting. Race for control.

I have no idea what it means or when I typed into my phone. (I have a list for story ideas) I am guessing I woke up from a dream and wrote it.

Today I blog, tomorrow I dive back into edits and possible character creation for my new idea. After going a year or more without any story ideas, I have several different ones vying for my attention. It feels so good. Creating makes me feel whole and complete. It is hard to explain, I just know in my heart, it was what I was meant to do.