Snaring Your Prey

Prey, victims, readers~call them what you will, they can make or break your writing career. And when that glorious day comes that your book has taken physical form and you're standing at the front of a bookstore, watching as your potential readers walk in the door, you're going to have exactly one sentence to sell them on the concept of your novel. So what do you say?

It's been my experience that most writers say nothing. They give people the helpless deer-in-the-meadow look and then sigh wistfully as their potential readers shrug and keep walking. So clearly saying something is the first step to drawing them in. But what?

Some people mention genre. "Do you like fantasy?" Some people try to lure you in no matter what your tastes may be. "What kind of books do you read?" (This is a huge turn off to me and I can say from firsthand experience that there is no quicker way to lose a potential fan than by duping them) Of all the approaches I've been witness to, I prefer the direct relation to another author or book. With Eighth Grade Bites, I'll likely ask people if they like Harry Potter, because readers of Harry Potter will love Vlad. (I should know, I'm a confirmed Hogwarts supporter) Once they say yes (Because really, who would say no?), I can go into further detail. "Well, my book is about a kid named Vlad who's a lot like Harry...except he's a vampire and all sorts of terrible things keep happening to him and...well, have you read A Series of Unfortunate Events? Because it's kind of like that too..."

Okay, so I still have to work on the description.

It's often not an easy task to find a successful book that shares similarities with yours. Yes, Vlad is a teenager who attends an unusual school. Yes, his parents died a few years ago and yes, he's learning all sorts of things about his father that he never knew. There are similarities to Harry Potter. But Vlad isn't Harry. He's sarcastic. He's witty. He's a bloodthirsty monster. There are staggering differences. But there are enough comparisons that I believe HP fans have the propensity to become EGB fans.

Of course I may be thinking too far ahead. I should probably finish writing the book first.

Back in the Coffin Again

(my own version of "back in the saddle again")

I REIGN SUPREME!!!

Okay, maybe not supreme, but at least with extra veggies because damn, I'm good. I never would have guessed that 1,100 words would feel so indescribably good after a brief hiatus, but hot damn, it does. And I ended last night at a pivotal point, which always leaves me hungry the next day.

Today I'm not stopping for anything.

My top wordcount in a day was 5, 575 words in under four hours. That was when I was writing Black and White and so completely immersed in my character that I'd lost track of time, pages and word count until I stopped for sleep. Since then, I've longed to get so lost again like that that I top my best. Maybe that'll be today. I doubt it, but stranger things have been known to happen.

At least...I think they have.

A Vampire in Our Midst

Google sucks.

Not only do they suck, they're passing out eyepatches and urging people to pillage the hard work of my fellow writers.

http://print.google.com/ is a nasty little page devoted to exploiting the work of authors without their permission. Ofcourse, Google denies this claim, but according to several friends of mine, Google is a lying, thieving, conniving entity. Not just a sample of pages are available, but entire books! (and without the copyright owner's permission) The whole thing makes me sick.

As soon as my The Roses of Carrion querying process is done, I'm getting rid of my gmail account and saying goodbye to Google forever. And, as of today, I'm officially using Ask Jeeves and Yahoo as search engines.

I hope you'll do the same.

Today I Visited Elysia

Finally. After days of recovery, I finally managed to write. Nothing brilliant, I assure you, but even 200 or so jumbled words is better than none. And what I wrote...oh, how I love the dark things I'm delving into with dear Vlad, the sordid places I'm leading him.

Elysia is the vampire realm. And Vlad has just stepped into an area he knows exactly zilch about. His father, Tomas, had filled Vlad's head with false visions of Elysia before his death--something that has put our young hero at an extreme disadvantage. But darkness and evil and all things overlordish aren't always presented in black hoods, shadows and a flash of fangs. Sometimes it can be as simple as touching your hand to a hidden glyph in an elevator and pressing the newly revealed buttons ~those other buttons...the ones that lead you to places you shouldn't tread unless you're sporting a pair of genuine fangs~. Sometimes evil lurks in the most unlikely of places. And sometimes...sometimes what you thought was evil was anything but.

But enough cryptic goodies for now. Back to Elysia and the boy I left there.

Distorted Thoughts

I'm not a big fan of being sick and I'm less of a fan of having surgery--even mild surgery. In short, I don't like having my routine screwed with and this bizarre cloud of medication that I'm wading through is slowing down my steps as I break for the door. I need fresh air. I need to write. I tried to last night--how laughable is that? And I tried to again this morning. Slowly I'm coming to the realization that I need to let myself heal first.

Stupid pain meds. *glare*

During moments of clarity, I've been considering Vlad's greater purpose and I've got something huge and dark and horrible and wonderful brewing. It'll only be touched on in Eighth Grade Bites, but come Ninth Grade Bites, you're going to find that the troubles Vlad had in 8th grade are nothing compared to his high school woes. *insert evil, maniacal laughter here* Last night, like a rush of water over my head, I saw the final book in Vlad's series. (Twelfth Grade Bites, of course) It was clear and crisp and I fell immediately in love with it. I hope you will too--if I can get the first book written, represented, published, etc.

But one step at a time. First heal, then write.

My Jacket Buttons in the Back

Next July I plan to attend my very first writers' conference and, as picky as I can be about where I spend my time, let me tell ya, it looks like I've picked a good one. Do any of these names ring a bell? Richard Curtis, Lee Child, Kristin Nelson, Jeff Kleinman, Kay Hooper, Sara Nelson, Miriam Goderich, Dan Lazar, Jenny Bent? Yeah...made my jaw drop too. And these fantastic attendees don't even make up half of the amazing list of names of people who will be attending the 2nd annual Backspace Writers' Conference.

What's more, being the history buff that I am, I get to revel in the warmth of the infamous Algonquin hotel in Times Square. I'm extremely excited about this trip. What more could a writer ask for than to rub elbows with some of the tops in the industry, hang out with friends I've only known via the internet for a few years now, stay in a gorgeous hotel in one of the largest cities in the U.S., and ~possibly the most important detail~ go shopping on 5th Avenue!

Think I'm crazy, planning this far in advance? Believe I've gone mad daydreaming about hobknobbing with the pros?

Maybe I have.

But the conference will fill up fast, and registration just opened, so if you want to meet these fabulous people (and more...did I mention J.A. Konrath? M.J. Rose? Ty Drago??) you'd better sign up quick! (and if you're curious about 2005's conference, here's a peek)

See you there! (straightjacket not required)

Bandaged and Bleeding, but Not Broken

This just shows how obsessed I am with writing and keeping an account of writing: yesterday was my gallbladder surgery and today I sit in front of my computer, bandaged, bleeding and still hurting despite the Vicodin the doc gave me, but still trying to write. It's not happening, but something writing-related has been accomplished, so I'll just have to find my peace in that.

I've managed to get another five query letters ready to go, and I've tallied up how my agent search is going. So far I'm waiting to hear back on thirteen query letters (not including the five I readied today). To date, I've received thirteen rejections. Three agents are reading The Roses of Carrion (two have partials, one has a full) and one editor is reading a full manuscript. On my list of "agents that would be a good fit for Roses", there are nine names remaining.

The excellent news is that 1) the editor asking me to send along that full was out of the blue and not something I'd been seeking just yet and 2) the three agents who are reading Roses are my top three choices! So I'm pretty happy with my turn around so far--and it's not just because of the Vicodin, I swear.

At least...I don't think it is...

Blood and Guts

Tomorrow I will face the beginning of one of the most difficult things a writer has to face: forced time away from writing. Through the annoyance of gallbladder surgery (which I'm happy to have, actually) I will be forced to put off writing for a few days. The very idea of it has me tense.

I always write.

When I have the flu, when I have a sinus infection, when I'm travelling...always. It keeps me (relatively) sane. The idea that I'll be trading a few days of writing about blood for a few days of healing my guts...well...it seriously bums me out.

Several writers I know take breaks away from writing--some up to a month between books. I'm astonished and amazed. How do they do it? How do they keep their mind from wrapping around ideas and squeezing until something juicy oozes out? Really, I think they ought to write a book on developing that skill. It would be a NY Times bestseller before it even hit the shelves.

Due to my surgery, the blog will fall silent for a few days. But when I come back, I'll be sure to have all sorts of interesting things to discuss.

If not, I'll ramble.

It's my damn blog. I'll do what I want, damn it. ;)

Happy Birthday to Me (and Stephen King)!

I'm a HUGE fan of cheezy horror flicks. Blood and gore with extra cheese, please! If it's lame, I'm there. And so today, on my 32nd birthday, my mind wanders to that great 1981 horror flick, Happy Birthday to Me. It was awesome! Well, awesome in a horrible, gruesome, when-will-the-cheese-end kind of way. I loved it. Makes me want to eat shish kabobs.

I'm proud to share a birthday with the god of horror, Stephen King. I first read Carrie back in 1984 and, ever since, I was hooked. He's a master of suspense, a puppeteer of terror and one of the reasons I started writing in the first place. Happy birthday, Mr. King!

As for me, I'm celebrating with birthday brownies (I'm not a big cake fan), Ben & Jerry's Heath Bar ice cream, Chaucer's mead and entirely too many candles, followed by a moonlit stroll and yes, more writing. Those are my plans anyway. We'll see how they pan out.

If all else fails, I could shish kabob somebody to death...

Building an Exquisite Corpse

Sometimes I feel like I’m writing blind. Like I have no control over where my characters are taking me and no desire to whisper the directions in their ear. Writing this way has lead me to amazing places that I wouldn’t have visited if not for the tapping at the base of my skull, the voices in my head, the insistence of my characters. I’ve had a scene in my head before that my characters have struggled against and, when I finally allowed them to lead, they took me somewhere I hadn’t thought of—somewhere far better than where I was trying to lead them.

The fact that I write this way irritates some people. It amazes others. And, to be frank, it’s the only way I know how to write. I write from the gut, from the heart, and when I’m done, I sit back and see what I have. I forget who said it and the exact words they used, but I once read that if an author does not weep as they create, how can they expect their readers to weep as well? That spoke to me, because clearly the author of that quote understood what it’s like to write from the pit of emotion, to become so entangled in your characters’ troubles that you are one.

I also don’t outline my stories. The reason? Well, when I vacation, I toss the map in the nearest recycling bin and go—throwing myself into life and culture and experience without anyone telling me how I should act or feel, where I should go, what I should do. I give my characters that same freedom.

I treat my characters as I do my children. I give them freedom to roam, to experience, to taste life…and then, when the day is done, I make them come inside, clean them up and put them to bed. I only push my characters during the editing process. I decide what goes then and what stays. I never edit while I’m wandering First Draft Land—just let the story pour out of me and see what we come up with.

Have you ever played Exquisite Corpse? It’s a bit like that.

And yeah…it often has dead people too.

From Out of the Shadows

A few weeks ago I was visiting the Backspace forums and an Acquisitions editor was participating in the Guest Speaker program there. (An excellent feature where we get to play q&a with publishing pros) I looked at where she worked (Harlequin Silhouette) and made a common mistake: I immediately dismissed her as being interested in only bodice-ripping, passionate embracing, Fabio-gag-inducing romance.

Well, that would be two mistakes, now wouldn’t it?

It turns out that much of romance isn’t the trashy, bodice-ripping kind and that it’s a genre, like any, to be respected and admired. I admit that I’ve been guilty of this mindset on a number of occasions—that is, until I started really developing a romance between the pages of Roses. (It’s not the main plot, but an undercurrent) Oh sure, there’s plenty of horrible romances out there—just as there are horrible vampire books. But no genre should be discounted for the fault of some of their covers. (Even though it’s entertaining to poke fun from time to time)

My second mistake was thinking that this editor was only interested in romance. I read through the q&a, trying to come up with questions for her, when the words “for fantasy, I like…” caught my eye. Wait a second…she likes fantasy too?? So I started telling her about The Roses of Carrion and she seemed intrigued. I delved into further detail in private and she says it sounds very interesting and she’d love to have a look, so I sent it out the next day.

The moral of the story, children, is that you never know who might be an asset to your writing career…so never discount anyone.

The second moral is that though we should never discount the writers of any genre, we should always be able to laugh at ourselves. (I searched & searched, but couldn’t find a fantasy/horror site like this…if I could, you bet your bats I’d post it!)

Noooooooooooooooo!

*deep breath* Noooooooooooooooo!

I just typed out a very long, thoughtful post about the querying process, my requests, my encounter with a Harlequin Silhouette editor and ~WHAMMO~ when I clicked "publish", the screen went blank. Bye bye post. Bye bye insightful prose. *sob*

So now, rather than retype it (perhaps I'll revisit it tomorrow), I'm off to work on EGB.

Stupid technology. *glare*

Luring in Your Victims

I've heard varying opinions on author-created swag. Some view the bookmarks, business cards, refrigerator magnets, t-shirts, etc. as a waste of cash and focus, while others swear by using these items and others to promote their would-be bestseller. Most agree that if you're going to use promotional items to help your writing career, the promotional items should tie in with the theme of your book.

So I racked my brain last night and the only think I could come up with as a giveaway for The Roses of Carrion (not yet--don't get excited) is a cloak I found online some time ago that reminds me very much of the sorceress Ardyn's. However, this would have to be some really big contest and I'm not sure just yet how I'd choose the lucky winner. Another thought is to give away actual roses, but again, how to decide?

For Eighth Grade Bites, I'm taking another, much more practical route. That's right...cheap plastic fangs. (I'm not being coy--CPF play a part in the book) And, if I can swing it, Jello gelatin snack-packs (Strawberry, of course...you can use your imagination on this one). Beyond that, I'll be doing Eighth Grade Bites t-shirts (I can only imagine how popular those could be at school), buttons and anything else I can come up with in my twisted little mind. I have no idea how I'll give these things away...but it's not like I don't have time to figure that out.

Speaking of which...back to writing.

The Blog That Wouldn't Die

Today is a time-waster and, damn it all, I deserve to waste a little time. Yesterday's word count topped 3,000, so I'm allowing myself to play hookie for a few hours. And when I play hookie...the blog plays hookie.

I just discovered the BEST t-shirt shop on the planet! I have a serious crush on the "Prose Before Hos" t-shirt. And it just wouldn't be a time-wasting post without mentioning the really big button or another red button to try. They're both pretty addictive...but not as addictive as this.

Evil.

Bound by Blood

A curious thing binds readers together and I'm not certain it can be put into words. Whenever I read a book that sucks me in and makes me forget the world outside of it, I've always got someone in mind that needs to read it. My most recent book-push was Martha O'Connor's The Bitch Posse, which I gifted to my older sister. It's ripe and raw and real. I knew she'd love it and, it turns out, she did.

Yesterday I received a birthday present from my dear friend, EJ Knapp. Bloodsucking Fiends by Christopher Moore. It's perfect for me! (In fact, I'm nearly finished with it already) But this gift, along with the housewarming gift I received from one of the sweetest men I know, Christopher Szarke (The California Book of the Dead by Tim Farrington), has sparked a flame of curiosity. Why do readers (and seemingly more so, writers) feel driven to share the different lives we encounter in books?

I think we have something bigger in common than just a love of the written word.

Throughout my childhood, I would escape into books: from bullies, from stressful situations, from myself--it didn't matter what I was running from. What mattered was what I was running to. It was on the prairie with Laura Ingalls Wilder. It was in the wardrobe, behind which was hidden Narnia. It was at prom with Carrie White. And now, even in my adulthood, I long for that escape. I love being enveloped by new worlds and befriended by new characters. I weep for them. I cheer them on. And when it's over and I've read every page, I carry them with me always.

And when I've loved those characters and lost them to the finality of "The End", I share them. In hopes that someone else will tumble into love with those characters as well--that by giving that book away, I'm contributing to their story just a little bit. If I'm not mistaken, I think this is why books are such a common gift between writers and readers.

And if I am mistaken, tell me. But could you keep it down? I've got to finish this chapter...

Tasting Rubies

As a writer with higher aspirations than blogdom, it's important to have your name seen in as many places as you can possibly get it. Hopefully, one day people will recognize it and, with any luck, they'll be standing in a bookstore, perusing a shelf that happens to hold your book. A spark of recognition can quickly turn into a long-burning fire of admiration and ~WHAMMO~ you've got yourself a fan.

That's how it's supposed to work. I'll let you know as soon as it happens to me.

I caved in, finally, and followed the example of many, many writers that have come before me. I subscribed to Publisher's Marketplace. I'm pretty happy (and frankly, surprised) with all the features that a subscription opens up and I'm completely in love with the idea of having my own listing on such a publishing-professional-tread site. So stop fighting it, if you haven't already and if you're really serious about getting published. Spend the $20 and subscribe. You may find yourself oddly addicted. Not that I am...I can quit anytime.

The way I view getting an *ugh* platform is akin to a vampire bite (was anybody surprised I used that analogy?). Sure, you're going to have a difficult time pressing through the skin, but once your fangs pop through that tough surface, you'll be rewarded with rubies. So do the work, get your name out there, write (and write and write some more) and you never know what might happen.

Muzzling Your Inner Child

I've learned a lot in recent months about the vast differences between writing for adults and writing for teenagers. The biggest detail? That teenage characters, much like teens themselves, won't take crap from anyone--least of all their creator.

I've said before that my characters speak to me, that the process of writing can be described as hearing voices in my head. Well, what do you do when your teen character stops talking? You can take the easy route and walk away (which is what I did when I left Vlad to continue work on Rapture) or you can stay and figure out what you did that made him clam up. Fortunately, I had the good sense to stop and listen to what Vlad had to say, despite my progress on Rapture. Yesterday Vlad really opened up...to the tune of 2,000 words.

I'm still not completely sure what I did to tick him off in the first place, but whatever it was, Vlad seems to have forgiven me. My theory is that I was probably dumbing down the language or trying to force him into doing something he didn't want to do, but these are just theories. Honestly, I'm so thankful that he's talking to me, it doesn't matter one cent why he stopped. One thing's for sure: I was the one who shut him up.

Characters will do that (moody things that they are). The key is knowing to listen when they finally do start talking again.

Haunted by a Teenage Vampire

I dreamt about Vlad last night. Weird dream too. He was sitting in his Aunt Nelly's house and pouring over all sorts of evidence that I'd last left him with, coming to a pivotal realization and he looked up at the, well, the camera is what I want to say, because I wasn't there. I could just see him like a movie. And he said, "Don't leave me alone now. I've got to get through this." So...huh.

Okay,Vladdy boy. I'm there for ya.

Now some people would say that I'm jumping back and forth between Rapture and EGB, that I'd better make up my mind which to write and just stick with it. But those people, in my ever-so-demure opinion can bite me. Vlad's talking again--something he'd been reluctant to do for some time. So as long as he's talking, as long as he's pleading for me not to leave him in that state of limbo between discovery and calm...my pen (well, keyboard, really) is at his service.

Bring it on, Vlad. I'm listening.

A Scribbled List of Victims

I suck at writing query letters.

Wait, let me rephrase that.

I absolutely suck at writing query letters. Well, that's not true either. Vlad's query letter for EGB practically wrote itself--what's more, the idea that sparked in my brain inspired me to write an excellent query letter and that became the jumping point for me to write the book. I guess that just proves that there is no formulaic way to do these things.

For Roses, it was another story--one that echoed my query writing abilities for Black and White (my first book, about a man who struggles with drug addiction and hears opposing voices in his head--kind of an angel/devil on the shoulder deal). Neither came out very well, as I had an incredibly difficult time condensing an 80 or 90,000 word novel into three paragraphs. I asked for advice from writer friends, and they helped, improving my pathetic little query by leaps and bounds, but when I read it, it didn't sound like me at all. It sounded (big surprise here) like someone else had written it. But after acquiring the assistance of an incredible, brilliant, insightful, can't-say-enough-good-things-about-him man named Sachin Waikar (of WriteNow Editorial Services), I finally have the perfect query letter for Roses.

But writing it and mailing it (after careful research on places like Preditors & Editors and Publishers Marketplace), you're still faced with the task of keeping an organized list of victims...er, of agents.

When I queried B&W I sent that sucker to everyone in the publishing industry that claimed to represent authors (Well, almost everyone--I did manage to skip the scammers). It was a mistake not to research them, but I was still a little fledgling writer and didn't know any better. A big downside was that I didn't keep a list of who I'd sent a query or pages to, when, how much of the book I'd sent, etc. It was incredibly confusing. With Roses, I've been much more organized. I have a detail, organized list of agents I've researched thoroughly and believe they would be a good fit for my work. I've got their contact info in a Word document, along with when I queried them (and how: e-query or snail), what their response was, how many pages I sent & when, along with the date 10 weeks from the time I sent it out, so I have a reminder of when I should drop them a quick, polite note to see if they've read it yet and are interested, etc.

Many authors have different methods of keeping tabs on their queries, but I'd wager that all those methods have one thought in mind: keep a list of victims, even if it's just scribbled down on the back of an envelope. It'll save you a lot of heartache and a ton of embarassment (I accidentally queried several agents twice with B&W).

Besides, I'm a Virgo...we love this organizational stuff.

Beheading Your Wordcount

Last night I deleted 2,600 words from The Rapture Café.

Ouch.

But after reading through page after page (after page) of needless dialogue and the overpowering ickiness of telling, I assure you, it's better off. Sometimes I go back and reread something I've written, only to retch and wonder aloud, "what the hell was I thinking?" while reaching for my beloved Delete key. I've been told that means I'm growing as a writer. I can see that. But when does the growing stop?

Do you think Stephen King gets the urge to rewrite Salem's Lot? Or that Anne Rice wants another go at Interview with the Vampire? Can you picture Oscar Wilde wincing at the rich description of The Picture of Dorian Gray or Mark Twain expressing a desire to change the dialogue between Huck and Tom? I can't. Not really. So I assume, though we all know what that means*, that some day I will be completely satisfied with everything I write. But, judging by those 2,600 words I chopped off...it's not today.

Tomorrow's not looking good either.

*To assume makes an ass out of u and me. (I know how lame it is, but some things just stick with you forever)

Somebody Kill Me

Today I'm writing through a writer's worst enemy: the sinus infection. Now, normally I'm not a play-through-the-pain kinda gal, but last night, in my medicated lunacy, I had an epiphany and the muse fluffed up his tutu and got to work. So here I am, working away despite my head weighing three tons and my nose turning into a firehose.

Ew. Nice visual, there, Heather.

But my point is that inspiration can hit at the oddest (and most inconvenient times) and we've got to be ready to tackle it when it comes. Because in that "someday" scenario, when an editor is drumming his (or her) fingers in wait for pages we're supposed to have on his (or her) desk, we can't let a little thing like a sinus infection get in our way.

Besides, who knows when the muse will put down his cigar again and utter another brilliant phrase of inspiration?

On Becoming a Ghost

How many of you belong to writers' groups (I'm talking both on and offline)? I'd wager a few. I belong to three such groups, but my drive to participate in them has severely dwindled over the past few months. They're an excellent source of information, of course, but have far too much shiny object draw to them for the would-be writer. It's too easy to chitty chat your day away and, as a professional procrastinator, I can attest that all three groups have this effect on me.

Luckily, I'm a stealth writer and a hell of a worker despite my draw to the Almighty Shiny, if you don't mind me stroking my own ego for a moment. Despite my chitty-chatting, I manage a hefty wordcount each day, an entertaining (to me, anyway) blog and email after email after email (some query letters or responses to responses to query letters, some replies to people who've seen my site or my blog and have comments or questions, some random notes of squishiness to my husband). But, as of late, I find myself wandering in and out of my writing groups like a ghost wading through a foggy, empty dream.

I think I'm outgrowing them.

Sure, all three groups (moreso two of them) have a lot to offer little fledgling writers and a lot to offer writers who are on the self-promotion bandwagon, but in my current existence as writer-with-a-few-books-but-as-of-yet-unagented-and-unpublished they leave a bit to be desired (but for the socializing that most writers crave). What I really need out of a group, I'm not getting and, as I'm fairly sure I need nothing more right now than to write...I can't get it from them. (Confused yet?) Last night I was wandering the internet and came across this article. It struck a chord with me, but it didn't tell me anything I didn't already know.

Will I leave my writing groups? Meh. Probably not. I don't really know. Besides, at least two of them I'll need down the road when I'm face to face with publication. Will I join another writers group? Doubtful. Not that such groups aren't an excellent way to hang out with other writers and learn all you can about the publishing world. I'm just in between newbie-writer and published-writer (well, apart from my short stories...by the way, a book review of mine has posted at Descending Darkness). I've met some incredible people online and will probably continue to hang around a bit, popping in now and again to see if there's something there worth reading, but as far as the socialization of it all, I'm going to let some cobwebs collect on my time in these groups.

Maybe that'll make them less shiny.

The Metallic Taste of Success

I've known writers who refused to celebrate the small successes in their career, holding out for the big one, ie publishing their book. And, while I'm not popping a cork for every little thing, I do think it's important to take a moment to reward yourself for the little things, because let's face it...the big one might never happen.

Last night I finished the second chapter of The Rapture Cafe. Rapture is the second book of The Rapture Chronicles and, while it's technically complete, there are some major changes needed and a ton of polishing to be done. But finishing that second chapter is a big deal to me. See, Rapture was the book that started it all. Originally, it was the first book in the series, but after realizing that half the book (ugh, I know) was backstory, I said to myself, "Self," I said (because that's what I call me), "Self, I think we need to begin the series one book before Rapture." And so The Roses of Carrion was born.

So anyway, I finished the second chapter (in all of its vampy glory) last night, sat back in my chair and smiled. It wasn't a big celebration, but one I'll never forget, because it felt so incredible to reach that point in this series. Oh sure, not three hours later I grouched that no one will ever represent me, let alone publish me (right before I dove into a vanilla cupcake with sprinkles), but at that moment, when my heart was racing and the little voice inside of me was silent, the world came together in a perfect pattern and I felt like a writer.

It felt great. And, though I'm certain that Dom Perignon will taste great someday, I'm keeping it corked for now.

But not forever.

Coffin Up New Scenes

(Get it? Coffin--coughing? Oh man, if that title doesn't win the Cheesiest Title of the Year Award...)

At times, a writer may face the perilously icky task of inserting entire new scenes into their novel-in-progress. There are two options for exactly how to do this. Option #1: Curse, throw a hissy fit, toss your computer & every disk (don't forget the flash drive) you have that deals with your book's contents out the window, flat-out refuse to write the damn thing, and maybe go for Ben & Jerry's Heath Bar flavored ice cream or...

Option #2: Just sit down and write it.

After debating the first option for several minutes yesterday, I went with option #2. It was difficult, challenging, and the most wonderful torture I've endured in quite some time. The scene I wrote was compelling, tender and sweetly sad. (At least, I think it was) So when it comes to doing something you may not want to do, like inserting an entire scene where Smythe (may he rest in peace) had once been, sometimes the best advice is a Nike ad.

Just do it.

Drinking the Blood of Your Darlings

In Stephen King's On Writing, he offers some of the best writing advice he can. He tells us to kill our darlings--meaning, of course, that we should get rid of anything that doesn't move the story along or contribute significantly to the plot. Sometimes our darlings are sentences, sometimes single words or perhaps even entire paragraphs or pages (I haven't yet killed entire chapters, but I've come close). And sometimes "killing your darlings" means killing off a major character because he's not really helping the story.

Last night I wielded the delete key like a madwoman and lopped off Smythe's head. I had to do it, you see. He wasn't moving the story along and, though he's been with this series (The Rapture Chronicles) since its inception ten years ago, he had to go. So...chop, chop, chop, no more Smythe.

But it wasn't enough to kill him.

See, there's a crucial space left empty by Smythe's demise (or deletion, if you'd rather think of it that way) at one point in the book that needs to be filled. Another cast member has already stepped up for the job (I'm not sure he's learned what happened to his predecessor just yet, so ixnay on the urdermay), but the scene requires...well, not Smythe, of course, but the essence of Smythe. The conversation between the wizard Kalikhan and what-once-was-Smythe-but-now-is-Gareth is crucial to that scene (and the plot), not to mention that Smythe had managed a few pretty witty lines in that scene. Lines that Gareth will be using now. So I'll be picking through the bits of Smythe that I enjoyed and Gareth will be channeling the spirit of the character he's replaced and, through it all, we see that Stephen King was right. Kill your darlings. But I'd add to that...

Drink their blood.

Balancing Blood and Gore

I could easily open a vein and let blood, gore and vampyric violence pour out of me for page after page after page. But I don't. I hold back and here's why: while people may not bat an eye at the really bloody scenes, they will demand reason for them. After all, you can't write a book about the act of acquiring sustenance (just imagine 240 pages about some guy eating a cheeseburger. *snore*) and, what it boils down to is that vampires have to eat. Oh sure, they may enjoy it with a profound sense of power or an overwhelming sense of lust, but the reason they're drinking blood or ripping flesh from bone...well, it comes down to getting their vitamins and basic nutrients.

Let's go back to the cheeseburger analogy.

If your entire book is about how a guy gets a cheeseburger, what it smells like, tastes like, how the grease feels as it runs down his chin, how the burger tastes and, finally, how satisfying it is to consume it...well, there's just not much of a story there. But put your guy in the desert for a week, where he falls for mirage after mystifying mirage until he finally stumbles on a burger joint, but the waitress turns out to be an ex-lover of his and he suspects she's to blame for his unscheduled trip to the desert in the first place...you might have something there when coupled with his enjoyment of that cheeseburger.

I've read so many short stories that are indeed short, but lack the basic "story" element. I try to avoid focusing on the blood, but it's a challenge, to be sure. So when I write, enjoying the gory scenes as much as I do, I use them as treats for having written well-thought-out plot leading up to that point. I reward myself with blood, slick muscle tissue and veins the way some might reward their efforts with chocolate.

It works for me.

Fresh Blood

A lot of people have written about vampires. So how do you stand out from the crowd? Well, you make your vampire a halfling (otherwise called a dhampir) who hunts down vampirekind for profit, like Barb and JC Hendee have, or you make your vampire a fat, wise-cracking vampire taxi driver, like Andrew Fox did. You make your vampires somehow different from all the other vampires out there or you make them similar, but put them in new, intriguing situations. You must be original, engaging and fresh.

Therein lies the challenge.

Within my two series are vastly different vampires.

In The Roses of Carrion, my vampyres live in another realm--a world between worlds. They drink blood, yes, but they also devour flesh down to the bare bone. Their troubles arise when a prophecy is fulfilled with the arrival of a red-robed sorceress by the name of Ardyn, who is--according to the prophecy--destined to murder their king. Ardyn, of course, is long innocent to her fate, but quickly attracts the attention of the vampyre king when she discovers and frees a herd of human livestock. Needless to say, that really ticks king Paynin off and...well, I'll let you read the rest if and when it sees publication.

Eighth Grade Bites tells the story of Vladimir Tod, a 14-year-old vampire who attends a public junior high school in the small town of Bathory. He's the only vampire in town since his parents' demise and, what's more, he can't tell anyone. School is tough for him. He’s harassed daily by a band of bullies. The girl he likes has an apparent crush on his best friend. The principal is watching his every move. His favorite teacher has gone missing. And his new teacher is scribbling unsettling notes on Vlad’s graded papers. “I know your secret,” he writes. “I know you’re a vampire.” Vlad has to locate his missing teacher, uncover the sordid past of his parents, dodge the principal, resist the bullies’ tempting invitations when they scream, “Bite me!”, and get a date for the school dance before Mr. Otis (the new teacher) closes in and exposes him for the teen vamp he is. It's new, original and nothing at all like my other vampires.

Hopefully, my series' are original and engaging enough to attract the attention of a literary agent and, further down the line, an editor at some fabulous publishing house. A girl can dream, right?

But publication isn't the big swoon for me. It's writing these characters, being a part of their lives. I have a serious crush on every one of my drinkers and would write out their tales no matter what their publishing future.

It's in my blood.

Darkest Before Dawn

People can argue all they like about the importance of an author's website, but I believe that having one gives your readers information and gives you the thing that can make your career: exposure. (And blogging doesn't hurt, either.) My website is a darling little creation by Mike Coombes at Kissing the Frog. I love it. It's dark, mysterious--just what I want to convey on my main site. As time goes on, I'd wager, my tastes will change (plus I'm thinking of having different sites for each series I do, webbing them together on what will soon be HeatherBrewer.com). But I think it's important to offer at least a little info on who you are, what you write and where the curious can contact you.

A fellow writer turned me on to Statcounter, which is the handiest little web tool you'll ever find. It helps you track how many hits you're getting and where they're coming from exactly. (Apparently, my blog is big in Florida and Germany)

It's always a good idea to stalk future stalkers.

At least, I hope there will be stalkers. Why else am I doing this?

Oh yeah...the writing. Speaking of which...

Lightbulb of Doom

Have I mentioned yet how adding "of doom" to the end of any noun makes it sound much cooler? The same works for "of chaos", though "of doom" adds that delightfully dark element of mystique, don't you think?

Anyway, last night I had an epiphany. After writing over 26,000 words of Eighth Grade Bites (the first book in my YA vampy series), it's time to lay it aside and work on something else. Now, before you jump my case about it, know this: Vlad has completely clammed up and, although I know exactly where the story is going, I don't have the drive to tell his tale right now. I need to write and every time I open his file lately, I end up not writing. So, given a choice, I'd rather work on something that's open to my words right now than something that's not. I'm not abandoning Vlad--not by a long shot. I just need a break from him.

So, against the advice of so many writers ("Don't work on the second book of a series that hasn't sold!") I'm returning to my Carrion tribe, the sorceress Ardyn and her sharp-tongued wizarding pal, Kalikhan. The second book of The Rapture Chronicles is in disarray, but I believe I can have this sucker (Haha! Get it? Sucker? Blood...sucker.....? Well, hey, I thought it was funny.) finished, polished and ready to go by the new calendar year. Is it completely stupid to throw myself into the second book of a series that's, as of yet, unagented? Maybe.

But I never was much for the rules.