Never as Pretty as in my Head....

Update: 1644 words today for a total of 15,998

Sigh. I'm taking the advice to write crap to heart. It sucks being out of practice. My prose isn't as good as what I hear in my head. Of course, the stuff I have in my head is terrifying. Who can blame those poor sentences? It's a miracle they get out alive.

I am having a pretty good time, though. The world is fun, I wrote a great scene with a fae, and my main MC and her trusty sidekick have a great report! I'm struggling to show that report, but that is the point of the blog post, isn't it? Writing is like a muscle, if you don't use it, it goes all flabby. And my vocabulary is so rusty. When I run into difficulty, I hold my hand up, opening and closing it like a sockpuppet gasping for air, only I'm gasping for words; ones I knew as well as I know that opening and closing hand. It's like a mist has grown up between us. I've always struggled to find the perfect word, but I blame my lack of writing for the appearance of the mist.

I've thought about adjusting my goals because I'm so out of practice. I'm not sure if I should keep editing Endways of the Gods, or just read it. Or leave it alone until I've gotten more rust off the magic fiction machine. Right now, they're just the stilted words of another first draft; they have flashes of brilliance, but much of it is flat and "was-y". Plus, pronouns are a difficulty, as my characters in that book have titles. Sigh. Again.

To this end, I've pulled out a few books of poetry, always a rich depository of words. And I know I need to read more. I've asked mah pals at AW to suggest current (and good) urban fantasy and I've got a list, I'm checkin' it twice.... hello Library!

Who Doesn't Want to Talk About Genre?

Why exactly am I writing Urban Fantasy, you might ask, if you were one of the creatures living in my head. (There are many, and they are varied. Some are fanged.) I might have asked myself that as well. It might be that I am a little insecure, and don’t think I can write a good enough epic to get published, not in this bat time and this bat station. It might be that I read too many blogs and see too many posts on Absolute Write from people that don’t want to read about elves anymore. Not to mention the aforementioned notes from all the agents that don’t represent what they call (with a shudder, I imagine) “regular” fantasy. (I shudder too, to tell you the truth. I don’t think of it as regular. Wait, I said ‘not to mention’ and mentioned it anyway. Mah bad!) This perception might be wrong, culled from naysayers and nogooders. Now – that said. The idea of writing an Urban Fantasy seemed quite daunting to me. I am not a creature of the cities. I’ve lived in the suburbs all my life, and longed for the country. I prefer horses to cars. I love a wide open meadow as opposed to a grungy little coffee shop nudged in between a grocery and some import/export depot. I’m not a fan of garage fronts and find fire escapes interfere with the flow of a building.

However.

I came up with what I think is a really good idea for Urban Fantasy. Well, two, actually. The first one I failed at for NaNo, but I have no doubt it will be the next book I write, as soon as I hammer out some plot points. Someone jokingly called this other idea (the one I am working on now) a cross between Chuck and the Dresden Files. I like that. It seems like a good idea makes working on a setting and a person to go in that setting a lot easier. I didn’t think I could build in a city. You know – world build? I look out across a prairie and plop in a castle, a thatched village, a magical ethereal city, or a few outlying farms and call it a day. I didn’t imagine I could do the same thing with a concrete jungle. But holy cow. I’ve already had a battle in a parking garage and followed a Dark Spark down into a subterranean basement laundry, places I know and work with as easily as a fenny marsh or an underground set of lost caves. I guess just because you don’t live in the big bad city, it doesn’t mean you can’t move around in one, using the theatre of one’s mind. And after all, I’ve watched a lot of Friends and Law and Order, SVU. I’m also venting my feelings about modern architecture, which I HATE. And guess what? My MC hates it, too. Take that, post-modern functionality!!

My other problem with a modern setting is my image of a heroine. I like long princess dresses and red hair. Ha! I know. Cliché. Surprisingly, this girl who jumped into my mind has a little pixie haircut (most likely nabbed from Jo on Spooks – a British tv show I am currently obsessed with.) I didn’t want a cliché club girl, either, with big blue eyes and blond hair. She’s short, has brown hair and eyes, a little curvy, and she wears a brown leather jacket. She wears her piece, it’s always her piece, never her gun, in a shoulder holster. (I’m not about to admit I practiced what it was like to pull a gun from a shoulder holster in the mirror. Nope. Not at all.)

So. I have a setting, I have a character. Both fit into a modern, urban fantasy-type setting and story. Said story is chugging along to the tune of 11k. Feels fine. *Looks up at posters of fantasy-type settings.* ...Maybe after the Hobbit gets released….

All Hail Neo!

Thank Gawd for Neo! I’m not talking about Keanu Reeves… that’s another kind of appreciation, altogether!

(You’re welcome!) I’m talking about this jobby:

I can get right to work, no internet pawing at me for attention. No smexiful Richard Armitage wall paper to give me the googly eyes.

(You’re welcome!) I just put my head down, put my fingers on the keys and WRITE! I’m getting two thousand words… in about an hour and five minutes!! GASP! Shock! AWE! I can’t believe it either! It’s amazing what can happen when you actually write instead of staring at the wall, pondering the ramifications your golden coated words will have on the establishment and the age of (genre) literature… once you get an agent and get published, that is. (details, details!) I used the Neo in November 2009 for NaNoWriMo, and it ushered in a new period of productivity. Then I got all lazy, and thought I could go back to using my computer… I’m a dedicated genius writer now… but nooooo…. At some point, the old habits came back and 2k became a hill to climb. For now, they are erupting in a cavalcade! I’m not asking why, I’m just trying to enjoy the ride. So far, my Urban Fantasy has witch doctor’s, a white queen, demon protectors, and a sexy Latin sidekick. Tonight, the Dark Sparks and The Brotherhood come out to battle the CIA spotters. Of course, the Brotherhood want to defeat the CIA and nab the Dark Sparks, and the Dark Sparks want to destroy The Brotherhood and get revenge on the CIA. The CIA want to protect the Dark Sparks from The Brotherhood… there's a lot of history here. It’s gonna be a hell of a fight.

Not the Blog Post about Genre

I'm not ready to tackle genre yet... but I will tell you the last two days has gone pretty well. What I will talk about is oil. Man, am I rusty. (Cue the Tin Man. "Oil caaaan....") Yes. The tools have rusted up. Lots of sentences with 'She' capitalized. 'There were' and 'It was' all over the damn place. Oh well - I have permission to write crap. It says so right on this faded, coffee stained note I have up on the wall!

I've stuck to the goals both days, and I'm so shocked. I'm getting over 2 k... in less than an hour and a half. Yeah. Thank God for the Neo. I'm usin' that little sucker, and not staring at the wall thinking about the depth of my words, I'm just putting my fingers on the keys and typing. Even though I know a lot of it is info dumping. I don't care. I'm writing it for myself, right? RIGHT?!

I've also enjoyed the editing. I spend a solid hour editing Endways of the Gods after I've gotten my 2k in wordage on the new book. I'm really diggin' it. I know this go round might be a waste, as all my writing tools are working at half mast, if even that. I'm fixing miss-spelled word, reading my stilted prose and just sort of getting the groove of the story and seeing what needs to be fixed for now. Even so, I'm reading something I wrote and enjoying it. I have no idea how to query it, and its genre is all over the damn place, but it's not total crap.

That is all for now, fearless readers. Just sort of checking in. How goes it for you and your projects in the new years? Tell fairy all about it....

Hoping the New Year brings back the Old Fairy!

Hey Fearless Readers! Well. **coughs, sending up swirls of dust, brushes away cobwebs** Man. Have I been away for a long time or what? All the cheese is moldy in the fridge and all the fish are dead. It would seem two and a half years of constant writing is all I'm good for, because about the middle to end of writing The Last Unicorn Hunter in July of 2010, my mojo got up and went. I got excited about NaNoWriMo... for about three days, and then... pffft! I don't know exactly what happened, but my sewing box suddenly had more appeal than my Mac and my office chair. I've been cross stitching fairies and mermaids for the past four months.

Actually, that might not be true - the part about not knowing what happened to the el mojo. But be prepared: there is a lot of bitching ahead. Stick with me till the last paragraph, though, I'm going to try and redeem myself.

I've got some serious self-esteem problems and an almost strangling fear of looking like an ass. I sent out about 50 queries... and had not one single bite. Nothing. Nada. No one wanted to look at pages. I know that being a writer takes a lot of work and a lot of persistence. I know that on paper, at least. But the silence in the inbox... not just the silence, but the sucking sound of the wind filling the empty place the requests could have been, whistled through my ears. The wind started to sing to me, and all the songs were about how much I suck. How hopeless it is. How unprepared I am for publication, for an agent, for anything. You may know some of those songs yourself. So, like a kid who has just burned themselves on a hot stove, I pulled all my fingers back and put them in my pocket.

The other little thing that sort of turned me away from my usual activities was a question of genre. Silly thing, I know, but... no one wants to read about dragons and forests and treks anymore. Many of the agents (all carefully vetted, I assure you) said they didn't represent traditional fantasy. ??? yeah. They all represented at least one author that wrote traditional fantasy, and listed fantasy in their preferences... but...I'm not about to start sounding like the Rejection Queen. I queried agents I admire and want, and I still admire them, whether they want me or not. What's worse: I don't really think Jale of Dragonfael is very traditional fantasy (that's an obvious fail on my query there) but this was just another thing that sent my mojo into freefall and jammed my fingers farther into my pockets. I'll blog a little more about the Urban Fantasy question later on.

So. There is all my stupid whinging; my reasons for not writing and editing and so on and so forth, and I know how lame they all are. I know - it's pathetic. I know traditional fantasy is still being published. The Hobbit and Game of Thrones are being filmed or are in preproduction, for Heaven's sake! I know that a good book sells regardless of genre or fad. I know that if my query sucks, I have to keep at it until it doesn't suck anymore. I know that I am not a brilliant genius who deserves special treatment. But I'm being truthful here- and the point of this blog was a writer's journey. I'm sorry to say that some of that journey is spent acting like an ass and/or arguing at the ceiling. So, what I'm saying is *deep breath* I am done with my little fit and my little break. I am trying to get over myself, and get back at the books. I've got so many stories to write. No one else is going to write them. They may not get published... but I'd prefer they weren't left to chew their way out of my forehead noggin either!

So - /bitch. Below is how last year's goals shook out. I'm still deciding what to do for 2011. I have an awesome new idea I have called "Dark Spark" to write January and February, as well as spending one hour a day editing The Endways of the Gods, but the rest of the year is TBD.

Jan and Feb
Write The Endways of the Gods: a multidimensional fantasy/sci fi mix done Feb 10!
March
NaNoEdMo: edit The Spiritcaster done!
April
Finish the The Horses of Valdor FAIL! (sadly, this story just didn't work. No soup for you!)
Also: hoping to have Spiritcaster out to betas done!
May
Work on edits to Jale of Dragonfael, synopsis and query done!
June and July
Write The Last Unicorn Hunter - a fantasy done!
August
Edit Endways of the Gods FAIL!
September and October
Write Of Later Elves and Dragons - Urban Fantasy FAIL!
Nov and December
Write Road Dogs - a fantasy western of redemption and horror FAIL!

So. Here is to the New Year, and hopefully, the Old Fairy. The one that wrote every day and had most things in perspective. How is your perspective in the new year? (Or are you already calling me an idiot in the comments?! Don't do that!! I don't like it!! :) tee hee.....

The End of an Era. The Breaking of a Heart.

I feel like a piece of me died today. Seriously. I clicked this link and read it.

http://abclocal.go.com/wabc/story?section=news/local&id=7546764&rss=rss-wabc-article-7546764

To my horror, I learned of not only the end of the Roy Rogers and Dale Evans museum, but that Roy's beloved Trigger... is for sale. For money. Someone can slap down some cash and haul away Trigger. Put him in their garage. Hang bras and panties off him. String him with lights for Christmas. It makes me want to vomit. God only knows what's become of Trigger, Jr. who was also ..ahem.... mounted. (Yes, taxidermy is gross, I get that. Pipe down. I'm bearing my heart, here.)

I know that what Roy and his ilk represented was mostly about consumerism. Lunchboxes, tv shows, comic books, bedsheets, shower curtains. All these were churned out by the Hollywood machine - no different than the cheap toy you can get in your Happy Meal today when Michael Bay cranks out some fodder for the waiting sheep that we are, lining up to buy it. I know that the image of a cowboy in a shiny shirt that always kept his hat on while racing after the bad guy is nowhere near the real down and dirty cowboys of the old west who lived short brutal lives, or long, plodding, boring ones, tending cattle on the range far from towns or banks to rob. The singing cowboy was a nostalgic view, an emersion in things done the old way, when times were simpler. And of course, who doesn’t love to watch that 8 team stage coach go roaring around a curving mountain road, beset on all sides by outlaws and being chased by guys in white hats?

How did this happen? How did the museum of an American Legend go under? Yes. I used capitals for that. I believe it to be true. And in Branson! Missouri! The home of good ol’ country lovin’, church goin’, flannel wearin’ America. Is the West dying out? Is the love and the passion America had for its past, so much so that we invented imaginary cowboys, Indians and outlaws to worship long after the real ones had gotten jobs in the suburbs gone? Dying? Dead? Has the gloss and shine of the Mall of America cast its pall over the last shreds of the old west? The western novel is almost dead. There have been rumbles of a revival. But if the excellent novel The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford didn’t bring it back, I don’t know if it ever can. And now Roy Roger’s museum is gone and the items are being tossed out to the ravening crowds to bid on. It makes me kinda sick. There ought to be some sort of clause. When you buy a piece of American History...even if it is only a representation of the way America wants to remember its history, you should have to promise to maintain its dignity. Especially if it is a stuffed horse. Hasn’t Trigger suffered enough?

I can’t help but wonder what Roy would say.

Inspired by Kara

Here's the post that got me to blog again. :)

Sorry the blog has gone all dusty and whatnot. To be honest, I was flailing there for a period of two weeks. I did not make 50K last month, for the first time since I have found my new writing philosophy (ie: no excuses, 2k a day, time's a wastin' philosophy born NaNoWriMo of 2009). But I've pushed the count up to 53,696 for the Unicorn Hunter. I'm on track to finish this month. I have yet to do any more subbing, something I really need to do! I've come this far....

Right now, I am writing a story with unicorns. I won't say its about unicorns, but they are there and an important part of the story. My first novel was heavy, heavy on the unicorns and the pegasusususes. I love them. I can't get enough of them. Same with castles and princesseseses (I enjoy the buttkicking variety) and elves and prophesy and the dark space under the trees where danger lurks, and the long trek across the countryside from danger into darker danger, the wisdom of old men, the apple-red cheek of a country girl, the sword of limitless power, the crone that foretells destiny, the castle that isn't what it appears to be, the warlord that has an epiphany, the girl that does what she shouldn't despite the danger to her reputation, the mage that risks burning themselves out to develop their power, the knight that fights for his lady, the king that sacrifices himself for his kingdom, the queen that risks the kingdom itself to vanquish evil.

I have yet to get enough of any of it. Some people had imaginary friends growing up. I had a cast of thousands. Guess it was only a precursor for my love of epic fantasy.