Still Here

I didn't post yesterday as I figured most of you would have been sucked up into the atmosphere and no one would have been around to read it. But as that didn't happen, here ya go:

For today’s blog post I’m continuing the challenge set forth by the ‘oh, so, soon to be published’ Anita Grace Howard, yes I’m still working on that jealousy issue. With the smoozalistic award came the soul baring farce of put up or shut up.

Always up for the chance to embarrass myself, I’m taking that challenge to the extreme and putting up the first and last sentences of the first five chapters of each of my manuscripts.

In my last blog, I drew a line in the sand with my current WIP, this time I’m going down quick.

These are the, ‘make me sick’ I wrote that crap, first sentences from ALKONOST – A TATTOO AWAKENS, the first novel I finished.

Chapter 1 Branded

“You can get naked in there.”
But no more tears came, they would find her later, this was only the calm before the storm.

Chapter 2 Phelan

The doorbell rang for the tenth time, Sorra squeezed the pillow harder over her ears.
Phelan had a way of making a fender bender sound like a 40 car pileup.

Chapter 3 Skender and Fiona

It was three am, “truck driver’s hour for sleep driving,” Skender thought wryly.
Why hadn’t she inherited her mother’s strength, instead of, only her blue eyes?

Chapter 4 Coward

She could not see me; the mist rolling in from the swamp was too dense, the hour too close to the spike of dawn’s rays.
Mama, help me! Please Daddy I need you!

Chapter 5 And So it Began

A stabbing pain skewered Fiona’s right eye and her vision went blank.
Sorra whispered, “Thank you.”

The idea of the challenge is to see where your novel is going. Do you have a plot? Is it so convoluted that even you can’t figure out where it’s going and you won’t the drivel? Is your MC worthy of having their story told or she/he some whining little snit that should just shut the freak up?

I hadn’t opened this story file in months and after doing so today, I wish I hadn’t.

Oh, I’ll eventually go back to my poor little Sorra possessed by an ancient goddess through a tattoo she got on her 19th birthday in a drunken stupor at college. But judging from the lines I read just skimming through here, it’ll be awhile. And this is after countless revisions; I might confess the original novel was 175K word count. *throws up in hand – daintily lops off with chainsaw*

Ick! Yuck! Ugh! What the heck was I drinking?

Since blogger didn’t take my links on the first post, and for some reason my menopausal mind can't decipher I’m reposting them without the link, at least they show up…
http://tiredbutwriting.blogspot.com Gina White
http://authoraghoward.blogspot.com Anita Grace Howard
http://fromsarahwithjoy.blogspot.com Sarah Allen
http://andthenmyheartsmiled.blogspot.com Charmalot
http://kitcourteney.blogspot.com Kit Courteney
http://dailydramaofanaspiringwriter.blogspot.com Murees Dupre

An Award For Me?

"Oh no, why I couldn’t! Oh, you shouldn’t have. Oh my, aren’t you sweet?"

As hard as it to believe, I’m still in a twitter about it, but I was lavished with the Versatile Blogger Award by none other than the illustrious Anita, her blog is
"A Still and Quiet Madness". Awesome title, right?
She’s quite literary, accomplished, and soon to be published, so it’s okay to hate her a bit, it’ll be our little secret.

And no that isn’t the award, but as I was poking around for the perfect pic, I found this one and while I totally commiserate with the emotion, I would have had enough sense to stuff my bra before I went on stage. Bless her heart, but I’m just saying, can’t she pay someone to point out her flaws? Maybe she’s needs beta dressers.

Here’s the supercalifragilisticexpialidocious award:

And the way the award works, yep there’s rules wouldn’t you know it, is:
1. Thank and link to the person who nominated you.
2. Share seven random facts about yourself or the one I chose…
Post the first and last lines of the first five chapters of one of
your manuscripts.
3. Pass the award along to 5 deserving blogging buddies.
4. Contact those buddies to congratulate them

So, for number one, thank you Ms. Anita and I’m swallowing my jealousy and promise not to feel to much more angst against you.

For number two, I was torn and have decided to do all three of my finished and the my current WIP, but since all that reading would probably make your eyes bleed and I don’t want to be responsible for that, I’ll post them separately. It’s an insightful tool to let you know if you’re on track or not.

My current WIP is a YA Dystopian, UNCLASSIFIED, and it kinda goes like this:

Chapter 1
I am a menstruating female.
One false move and it will be my last.

Chapter 2
There is no doubt phototherapy was good for me.
That star is a bigger insult than anything an Altered to could say or do to me. Traitor!

Chapter 3
The double doors slide silently apart as I approach.
But I can’t block out the truth…I’ll be joining them soon enough.

Chapter 4
My judge, jury and executioner is an Altered.
Maybe her curiosity will get the better of her before it’s too late.

Chapter 5
I sling my backpack over my shoulder and grab the two sterile parcels from the bed next to Bengali and drop them on the bed in the farthest corner of the ward.
Never looking back is my only hope of survival.

The plot is set in the not too far future and after the destruction and reunification of the world into one country post 9-11. My MC, Ezra Thibodeaux, is assimilated into this world, then raped, pregnant, and alone she’s forced to fight for her life. And yada, yada, yada.

For number three, I’ve selected the following deserving blogging buddies:


Gina White
Sarah Allen
Charmalot
Kit Courteney
Murees Dupé

(Just in case, this is the umpthteen time I posted these links, I hope they show up, I can't edit this thing anymore, I promise they are there, just invisible.)

These are all lovely blogs with a humorous side, not bloated or condescending at all. Check them out for a tad of wisdom without the wind.

So now, I’m going to contact them to let them know about the award and get back to writing, this is the longest blog I’ve ever done. Whew! I’m worn out!

It's Only a Little Obsession

I have been neglecting my blog, but not because it doesn’t come to mind or due to lack of time to write. I’ve been negligent due to obsession. My current WIP is sucking up all of my cognizant hours. When I’m not writing on it, I’m thinking on it. I go through this with each new story I fall into, but this one seems to be edging on madness.

Is this a good thing? I’ve got three finished pieces, including one that’s in desperate need of editing, and I should be querying them. Sporadically, I am, but not enough to ever move them to the next step. Why is that? I loved the stories when I wrote them, I even loved them through the numerous rewrites, but I just can’t seem to commit myself to time necessary to get their voices heard.

Am I only using this new story as an excuse to not query? Or am I finally writing the one, the story that will be my break through and get me published? I believe I am writing better than I’ve written, and I adore the plot, but if I’m honest with myself, I always feel this way about each new story. Well except for that NaNoWriMo ditty that needs its head cut off.

I abhor longwinded blogs so I’ll get straight to the point. How about you? Do you fall madly and obsessively in love with your MCs? Do you spend your every waking moment, including the ones when you should be falling asleep, imagining ways to make their lives hell?

Drop me a note and tell me about your MC and why he/she deserves the love you lavish on them…

To Wait or Not To Wait or To Write

Oh the anticipation…”You’ve Got Mail”.

You shyly read the sender’s name, yes, yes, yes, it’s one of the agents that you’ve queried, your mind screams to your fingers, “CLICK THE BLOODY BUTTON ALREADY!”

But your fingers stubbornly revolt. See, they’ve taken this trip before, and they know the ride ends in failure, so you wait. The battle rages between your mind and your fingers…open, open, open!

Your body unable to take the tension roiling through you, weighs in…get another cup of coffee, go take a wee, get a little exercise, or check your other email? Or maybe you should get some coffee and exercise? So, you perform these other suddenly monumentally important tasks, but once finished, it’s still there, it’s still waiting…

Your mind forces you to return to the agent’s magical response, your pinkie finger, such a little guy to be put in such an important position, hovers over the ‘enter’ key. Your heart paces like a wild caged animal, and your breathing stops altogether.

Should you wait a little longer? Maybe you should go work on your current WIP, you’ve only written two paragraphs of worthless drivel today…

Your pinkie, unused to such extreme tension, strikes! The damage is done…

¡Feliz Cinco de Mayo!

Living in Texas you’d think I can describe in detail what Cinco de Mayo means. And you’d be right, but not because I learned it here, I Googled it. If you ask a non-Hispanic Texan what it means, you’ll likely get the right answer, the fifth of May.

But if you ask him, why the Mexicans celebrate it, he’s apt to beat you with his ten gallon hat. See, everyone is allowed to equally celebrate the invention of Tacos by a senorita named Margarita.

If you ask the same question of a Hispanic Texan, say from El Salvador or Guatemala, you’ll probably get, “How the heck do I know, I’m not Mexican.”

You must go to the source. And sadly, it’ll probably be the wrong answer.

It is not Mexican Independence Day.

After the Mexican-American war, Mexico entered a civil war from 1858-1861, without the tourist trade or Pollo Loco that pretty much wiped them out. They borrowed a heap of pesos from England, Spain, and France, among others. In 1862 the three bandidos came to collect, Mexico offered them vouchers, (these have been replaced by the ‘all-inclusive’ bracelet). England and Spain, drunk on cerveza and pretty senoritas went on home, but the wine loving French ‘no quiero-ed’ the IOU and declared war. Thus the battle of Puebla, the French got their butts kicked yet again on North American soil and the Mexicans invented guacamole in their honor.

Happy writing!
I’m getting back to it as soon as I finish this bottle of Tequila!

May Day, May Day...Mission Impossible Complete

With the April blogging challenge over, I find myself wondering what to write about and how I should schedule myself to do this meaningless meandering.

But with the world focused on the death of Osama bin Laden, I feel it necessary to say a few words despite the fact that it has nothing to do with writing.

My husband is a Moslem. Granted, he can guzzle a six-pack faster than a bus load of heretics after a lost soul and finds andouille sausage to be just one bite shy of heaven, nonetheless he’s got an inside tract to those 72 virgins in the sky. (He reminds me of this every so often to keep me in line and I remind he needs to die in the name of Islam and I’m willing to help him achieve that goal.)

Obviously the assassination has sparked some heated discussion in our little house, but in this as many things Muslim we agree. The Navy Seals did a remarkable job executing this mission and we are both thankful that they did not try to capture him. The media would have all Americans believe that the Moslem community is in an uproar over his death and Armageddon will surely commence at this dire and traumatic news.

But that’s simply not true.

Sure, the radicals will twist their long skirts in knots and pull out their beards, but they are not the only Muslims out there. The majority and yes it’s a MAJORITY, of people practicing Islam is every bit as thankful as we are that he’s gone. Unfortunately, the media will only show the nut cases making human firecrackers of themselves.

Many Americans are celebrating his death, and while I don’t feel like popping the cork on a bottle of champagne, (That’s not true, I always feel like champagne) I do understand the need for release.

Has anything been solved by the loss of this monster? No, he actually killed more Muslims than infidels. His death doesn’t make me sleep any sounder either. No, the wackos will continue their murder and mayhem in the name of Mohammed. But I do feel compassion and a sense of closure for the Americans and their families of September the 11th, a day I will never forget. Peace be with you.