Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Those Who've Been In Darkness

As you probably know, I’ve written a novel called The Devil’s Daughter. As one might guess, it tells the story of a girl whose dad is Satan, and as you may have figured out, sometimes the story gets kind of dark. Twice now it’s been rejected by LDS publishers because of that very thing—too dark, they said.

The last time the manuscript was rejected, I took it kind of hard. I thought perhaps it was a statement about me. I wrote the words on those pages—they came from my heart. If they were too dark, wouldn’t that mean that my heart is black, that I am dark?

I’ve been thinking a lot about that, and it’s been rather enlightening.

My life is my own. I have made my choices and they have shaped the woman I am today. I have experienced pretty bad things, and it’s because of those experiences that I have felt to cherish the light when it has come into my life. The contrast of light and dark has made the wonder of the light all the more sweet.

I love the song “Hold On,” by Michael McLean. In it, he says . . . “And those who’ve been in darkness for a while, kneel much longer when the light has come.”

I had hoped that the LDS publishers would see that, would know that in order to examine the beauty of the light, we had to walk in the darkness, just a little bit. But maybe now I have the greater opportunity of sharing this story with people who are in darkness, who need to know there is hope.

That I can show these things in the stories I write doesn’t make me bad, it makes me lucky. Lucky to have seen both sides in this world. Lucky to have emotional resources that perhaps not all people do.

I will write the stories of my heart. I will share what I have learned so that maybe I can lift another. If I have the chance to show someone, just one person, the way out of the darkness, then everything I have suffered, all that I have experienced will be worth it.


Saturday, May 30, 2009

So You Think You Can Dance in Retrospect

In anticipation of the new season of the TV show So You Think You Can Dance, I wanted to share my favorite dances from 2008.

Just as an aside, last night when they aired another episode of the auditions, one of the judges talked to a young man who thought he could just "get a teacher and learn how to do other dances, then come back next year." This man didn't seem to appreciate at all the enormity of what the dancers were doing out there on the stage. It isn't something one can simply "pick up" and expect to do as well, to as great acclaim, as those who have spent years perfecting their art.

Just because my world revolves around writing, I found this discussion to be applicable to writers as well. I think I too often forget that I am new to this game, relatively speaking. I've only been writing for a few years as opposed to many like other writers I know. I need to pay my dues, put in a zillion of hours of blood, sweat and tears, before I can hope to be counted among the big boys. And I know the sacrifice of time and energy will be well worth it when I can join their ranks with my head held high. 

Now, without further ado, and in no particular order ... my favorite 2008 dances ...














Whew, I guess that's all I feel like doing, lol. Sorry some of the videos were of crummy quality.

Monday, May 04, 2009

Music Monday ~ Tom Sawyer

Next to the amazing Pop Muzik, I have two early music memories. I can't remember which I got first, so I'm going with this one. Tom Sawyer by Rush. I think I had the actual whole album, but I don't remember much more than Tom. It was definitely a fave. And still ... it rocks, man.

Hope you enjoy it!


In other news, I got Jump Boys ready and sent in to Lisa. It's such a blur now, I hope it was decent when I sent it in--after reading and re-reading it so much my brain was a bit fuzzy.

But I discovered something about myself--actually it was not an entirely new discovery, but rather it became a fully formed realization.

I love writing intensely. 

The harder the work, the more deeply I am ensconced in the story, the more the magic breeds and the more I love writing. 

I went through the same thing last year when I revised and rewrote Devil's Daughter in a three week full-time period. I felt awesome

Now I have to figure out a way to keep that intensity going so I can feel like that all the time. It was so great I almost considered sending my boys back to school next year just so I could write full time. But that would be selfish--there are no good reasons for them to go back to school--only for me. And even that, not really. I love having them home.

So, I'm keeping the ball rolling by working hard to get my query and synopsis for Devil's Daughter ready to submit to agents. And then I'll work on Land Magic. Or The Blood Crown. Or ... hmm. Oh yeah--in the spirit of positive thinking I should work on a good edit/rewrite on Jump Boys so that when Lisa asks for the full manuscript it'll be ready. Yeah!

Oh, and don't forget to check out my blog today at LDS Writers Blogck ~ it's all about naming your characters--and naming your kids. You'll see ;)

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

WiP Wednesday

For those of you who don't know, a WiP is my Work in Progress, which means the book or story I am currently working on. I thought I knew what that was, but I'm a bit befuddled after returning from the conference this past weekend.

I had been working on Land Magic--a story set in a make-believe world that acts and feels a lot like a medieval world. Except there aren't really any knights or kings or anything like that. Kind of hard to have kingdoms when your land keeps breaking apart and drifting away. You see, in Insulunda, my make-believe world, the land masses move like clouds in the sky. Sometimes coming together, always eventually moving apart. It makes it very hard to form relationships or build community for all the obvious reasons.

There was a time when the land was controlled by land wizards, but they fell out of favor with Gaia, the goddess of the earth. Now Gaia hoards the land magic and the people of Insulunda are left to drift aimlessly in the endless seas.

That is, until a teenage boy earns the respect of Gaia and the love of her daugther, Tera. Aren and Terra (not 100% committed to the names, so if you think they don't go together, give me a shout out--this is the first time I've written their names together and now I'm kind of going "hmm") together work to bring land magic back to Insulunda, but there is one remaining land wizard who is determined to be the only one who can control the islands. 

Kale is an ancient land wizard who went a little crazy whe she felt the magic being withdrawn back into the earth. She couldn't face a world that she could not control. When Cernun, the god of the astral plane comes to her and offers to breathe life into her mechanical creations in exchange for Gaia's destruction, Kale is eager to agree. 

How will Aren protect Insulunda of Kale's deadly plans and save Gaia from Cernun's evil intent? 

I don't know! I will have to write it to find out. :D Oh, I have some ideas, but I'm not ready to share them yet ;)

So, Land Magic was what I felt prompted to work on before the conference, but now I have another priority. I promised that I would send out ten submissions to agents or editors within the next two weeks. But before I can even do that, I have to write the query and synopsis.

Oh yeah, and did I mention? I seriously suck at writing those things.

Plus, while at the conference, I had some ideas on how I can improve the voice in the manuscripts I have previously written and that I'm currently working on. I can't let myself get too distracted though. 

Regardless, my WiP right now is a query and a synopsis. The synopsis is coming along and I'm feeling more hopeful about it now that I ever have before. 

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Teaser Tuesday ~ The Devil's Daughter, part two

I tried to tune out the sound of Dad’s voice. He was heavy into a conversation trying to convince some con guy not to give up on his current gig. He disgusted me. So what if he was swindling little old ladies out of their life savings? If they were dumb enough to let them be taken, they deserved to lose it all. That was my dad's idea of mercy; relieve them of the heavy burden of their wealth.

I stuck the earbuds into my ears, selected my favorite 'happy music'—The Beatles, particularly the early stuff—and turned the volume loud enough to drown out the discussion of the fine art of the con.

I was just getting into the music when my dad yanked the left bud out of my ear.

"Got your happy music on, eh?" His teeth shone whitely at me. "You must be really worked up if you're listening to that junk."

His voice, his words, slithered around my head like a snake. Did you know Adam and Eve only named snakes after they had met my dad in the Garden of Eden? He was so smooth and deceptive, like a snake slipping into your bed at night. Cold and menacing. As soon as Eve saw her first snake, peering at her from between the rows of seeds she was sowing, she thought of Lucifer. Poor snake, to have such a retched namesake.

I glowered.
 
"Ooh. Desi's all mad—” he taunted. "Tell me all about it, baby. Is it that boy? Is that what's got you all worked up?”

"What boy?" I asked too quickly, my defenses obvious.

"Oh, you know which one, Desolation. Don't play coy with me." He reached over and snapped open his palm, holding it flat and face up in front of my face. On it appeared a shimmering 3-D image of Michael, leaning in to shake Dad's hand, exactly as my dad remembered it. My breath caught in my throat before I could stop myself.

"See, I was right. It is a boy you're all hot for. Can't fool me, you know." He settled back into his seat, his right hand caressing the gear shift languorously. "Tell me about him."

"He's just a guy, Dad." I tried to put the earbud back, but he quick-as-lightning reached out to grab my wrist mid-air.

"Don't give me that. You know he's no ordinary boy."

I'll do a few more of Desi, but then . . . you're on your own till the book comes out. ;)

I worked Monday on my synopsis. I met with Stacy Whitman at the Storymaker conference this past week and she gave me some excellent suggestions on what I could do to improve my synopsis. 

I put her tips to work today and found them to be quite helpful. Hopefully they'll be helpful enough to get my foot in the door for the next ten agents/editors I promised my friends I would submit to within the next TEN days. No easy task my friends! Wish me luck! I fear submitting like the plague. Where's my hasmat suit?

Monday, April 27, 2009

Music Monday ~ Pop Muzik

My very first album--a rockin' 45--was Pop Muzik by M. I have strong memories of that song for no good reason. I remember being so mad at my mom that when she stood outside in our front yard talking to neighbors I turned the music up SCREAMIN' loud, threw open the window and sang in my loudest and most annoying voice. Needless to say, I got the attention I was seeking, but perhaps not in the way I had hoped. I think I was about ten years old. And I was a brat.

But Pop Muzik remained a favorite of mine and still does to this day. It still makes me smile. So here's a little tribute to all the other forty-somethings out there who remember bouncing and bobbing to M back in the day.



Most of you won't be wondering where I've been for the past week, because most of you will have been hanging out with me at the LDStorymakers conference. But if you weren't there, I'm so, so sorry. It was (in the immortal words of Rhino the Hamster) fully awesome! Best time I've had a writers' conference yet.

Nope, no awards for me this year, but that's okay. I didn't have any right to expect to win one as I did not submit my best work. I tossed it off and well, you get what you get and you don't throw a fit as my son's kindergarten teacher used to say.

Nevertheless, I came away feeling like a winner. I have some new insight into who I am as a writer and how I can improve my writing. I made lots of new friends and strengthened the friendships I already had.

In particular, I'd like to give a personal shout out to Jenn, Laura, Melinda, Kristi, James, Rob, Tristi, Deborah and Julie. . Jenn was my roommate and is now my BFF. And I'm not even joking--if she'll have me, I'll be her friend for life. She ROCKS. Everyone else went out of their way to say hi to me, to make me feel loved and I did--I felt so loved. It was an amazing experience of acceptance and validation (haha if any of you were in Julie's class and saw that video :D.) Thank you, all of you, so much.

Hey, if you feel like checking out my blog at LDS Writers Blogck, you'll get to read more of my wacky weirdness in today's post.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Teaser Tuesday ~ The Devil's Daughter

So, Elana, the Bandwagon Queen, got this thread from somewhere and I’m hopping on too. I mean, why not, right? I want you to fall madly in love with my stories so that you can add my prayers to the Powers That Be that one day my books will be on your local bookstore shelves. Can’t hurt, right?

So here goes, a little tease from The Devil’s Daughter . . . 

~~~~~

Some people are born with a silver spoon in their mouth, but I was born with a pitchfork in my hand. I stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the castle-like building that was to be my new school and watched as all the rich kids dressed in matching uniforms made their way up the front steps. Not that I had a problem with rich kids—it was why I was here that I had the problem. The bright California sunshine tried to warm me, but I still felt cold. It was hard enough to be the new kid at school; even worse when you were sent to wreak havoc.

That pitchfork thing? I wasn't joking. Except, my family has never really used the pitchfork, that's a myth. My father never would have been the one shoveling coal into the furnace of hell. He had minions do that sort of thing. And I don't think he ever used a pitchfork as a weapon. Nowadays his weapon of choice would be the cell phone. He can ruin a life with one call. That's all it takes.

That’s why I didn’t want to go to St. Mary’s Academy. When I’d turned sixteen this past summer, Dad said it was time to join the family business. In case you didn't catch it, my dad is Satan and the family business is destroying lives and stealing souls. I was supposed to go to St. Mary’s to befriend a girl named Miriam Carr, a truly good girl, and turn her to the dark side. 

Thursday, March 26, 2009

A Beautiful Language

Have you ever read a book that entirely transported you to a different time and place? All books try, I think, but few truly succeed. Huckleberry Finn was like that for me--took me a while to get into it because of the vernacular, but after a while, I was so engrossed in the language of that time and place that I found it difficult to talk like a regular person. I heard everything in country-bumpkin redneck. 

In high school I read the Iliad in Latin. I loved Latin. It spoke to me like no other language--it was beautiful, and reading the classic words of Homer in his own language was a real treat.

This week I've started reading a debut novel by author Jo Graham. It's called Black Ships and is about a priestess in the days just after the Trojan war who sees visions of the world to come. 

Like when I read Huckleberry Finn, at first I found it difficult to get into the story. It's written in the classic way of times past, with the added eloquence of ancient Greece. It reads very much like a translated version of classical Latin literature.


I am almost half way through the book now and I can't read it fast enough. It's making it difficult for me to live in this world. The language is coloring the thoughts in my head, making me want to use words and phrasing that no longer exists in our modern world.

It is a beautiful language.

The way words can be strung together to paint pictures in our mind, make our blood run cold, make our hearts beat faster--it is a truly magnificent art form.

My own writing does not rival Homer or Mark Twain or Jo Graham. I write from my heart and though I admire the classical beauty of words, my heart is simple and what comes out is equally unencumbered with flowery turns of phrase. My words will likely never sing to a person in the same way that Black Ships sings to me. But I'm alright with that. 

My words are my own and I will write them--they are sincere, honest, truthful to who I am. And words will never shine if they are false.

But just because I can't reproduce their beauty in my own writing, doesn't mean I can't truly appreciate writing, in this classical sense, when it's well done and engaging. It is a truly beautiful language.

Saturday, February 07, 2009

I Love . . . Writing & Reading

Picture-Writing
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


In those days said Hiawatha,
"Lo! how all things fade and perish!
From the memory of the old men
Pass away the great traditions,
The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,
All the wisdom of the Medas,
All the craft of the Wabenos,
All the marvellous dreams and visions
Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets!
"Great men die and are forgotten,
Wise men speak; their words of wisdom
Perish in the ears that hear them,
Do not reach the generations
That, as yet unborn, are waiting
In the great, mysterious darkness
Of the speechless days that shall be!
"On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted;
Who are in those graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Of what kith they are and kindred,
From what old, ancestral Totem,
Be it Eagle, Bear, or Beaver,
They descended, this we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
"Face to face we speak together,
But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off;
Cannot send a secret message,
But the bearer learns our secret,
May pervert it, may betray it,
May reveal it unto others."
Thus said Hiawatha, walking
In the solitary forest,
Pondering, musing in the forest,
On the welfare of his people.
From his pouch he took his colors,
Took his paints of different colors,
On the smooth bark of a birch-tree
Painted many shapes and figures,
Wonderful and mystic figures,
And each figure had a meaning,
Each some word or thought suggested.
Gitche Manito the Mighty,
He, the Master of Life, was painted
As an egg, with points projecting
To the four winds of the heavens.
Everywhere is the Great Spirit,
Was the meaning of this symbol.
Gitche Manito the Mighty,
He the dreadful Spirit of Evil,
As a serpent was depicted,
As Kenabeek, the great serpent.
Very crafty, very cunning,
Is the creeping Spirit of Evil,
Was the meaning of this symbol.
Life and Death he drew as circles,
Life was white, but Death was darkened;
Sun and moon and stars he painted,
Man and beast, and fish and reptile,
Forests, mountains, lakes, and rivers.
For the earth he drew a straight line,
For the sky a bow above it;
White the space between for daytime,
Filled with little stars for night-time;
On the left a point for sunrise,
On the right a point for sunset,
On the top a point for noontide,
And for rain and cloudy weather
Waving lines descending from it.

Footprints pointing towards a wigwam
Were a sign of invitation,
Were a sign of guests assembling;
Bloody hands with palms uplifted
Were a symbol of destruction,
Were a hostile sign and symbol.
All these things did Hiawatha
Show unto his wondering people,
And interpreted their meaning,
And he said: "Behold, your grave-posts
Have no mark, no sign, nor symbol,
Go and paint them all with figures;
Each one with its household symbol,
With its own ancestral Totem;
So that those who follow after
May distinguish them and know them."
And they painted on the grave-posts
On the graves yet unforgotten,
Each his own ancestral Totem,
Each the symbol of his household;
Figures of the Bear and Reindeer,
Of the Turtle, Crane, and Beaver,
Each inverted as a token
That the owner was departed,
That the chief who bore the symbol
Lay beneath in dust and ashes.
And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets,
The Wabenos, the Magicians,
And the Medicine-men, the Medas,
Painted upon bark and deer-skin
Figures for the songs they chanted,
For each song a separate symbol,
Figures mystical and awful,
Figures strange and brightly colored;
And each figure had its meaning,
Each some magic song suggested.
The Great Spirit, the Creator,
Flashing light through all the heaven;
The Great Serpent, the Kenabeek,
With his bloody crest erected,
Creeping, looking into heaven;
In the sky the sun, that listens,
And the moon eclipsed and dying;
Owl and eagle, crane and hen-hawk,
And the cormorant, bird of magic;
Headless men, that walk the heavens,
Bodies lying pierced with arrows,
Bloody hands of death uplifted,
Flags on graves, and great war-captains
Grasping both the earth and heaven!
Such as these the shapes they painted
On the birch-bark and the deer-skin;
Songs of war and songs of hunting,
Songs of medicine and of magic,
All were written in these figures,
For each figure had its meaning,
Each its separate song recorded.
Nor forgotten was the Love-Song,
The most subtle of all medicines,
The most potent spell of magic,
Dangerous more than war or hunting!
Thus the Love-Song was recorded,
Symbol and interpretation.
First a human figure standing,
Painted in the brightest scarlet;
`T Is the lover, the musician,
And the meaning is, "My painting
Makes me powerful over others."
Then the figure seated, singing,
Playing on a drum of magic,
And the interpretation, "Listen!
`T Is my voice you hear, my singing!"
Then the same red figure seated
In the shelter of a wigwam,
And the meaning of the symbol,
"I will come and sit beside you
In the mystery of my passion!"
Then two figures, man and woman,
Standing hand in hand together
With their hands so clasped together
That they seemed in one united,
And the words thus represented
Are, "I see your heart within you,
And your cheeks are red with blushes!"
Next the maiden on an island,
In the centre of an Island;
And the song this shape suggested
Was, "Though you were at a distance,
Were upon some far-off island,
Such the spell I cast upon you,
Such the magic power of passion,
I could straightway draw you to me!"
Then the figure of the maiden
Sleeping, and the lover near her,
Whispering to her in her slumbers,
Saying, "Though you were far from me
In the land of Sleep and Silence,
Still the voice of love would reach you!"
And the last of all the figures
Was a heart within a circle,
Drawn within a magic circle;
And the image had this meaning:
"Naked lies your heart before me,
To your naked heart I whisper!"
Thus it was that Hiawatha,
In his wisdom, taught the people
All the mysteries of painting,
All the art of Picture-Writing,
On the smooth bark of the birch-tree,
On the white skin of the reindeer,
On the grave-posts of the village.

Tuesday, May 06, 2008

Blah ... blah ... blah ...

There's a whole lot of nothin' to report here. But I hate to disappoint my wildly adoring fans so ...

Thing is? Like I said, a lot of nothin'.

All I've been doing, it seems, is writing, writing, writing. Which is awesome - most awesome! - but still, it doesn't make for very exciting blog reading.

I finished my book last Thursday, but it was too short, I thought. So I've been going through, seeing if there were any balls I dropped, or any places where I skimmed. I've already added an additional 8,000 words, but I'm sure there's still a lot more I could fill in.

I'm hoping that if the editors like my book, they'll not be disheartened by it's thinness, but be agreeable to helping me fatten it up.

On top of that, David and I invented a new thingie (can't tell you about it yet!) so we've been trying to find investors for it and get it off the ground.

Lots of fun and interesting things going on here - along with all the crazy, depressing stuff of being underemployed and feeling stressed about money, but that's not nearly so exciting to talk about.

So that was my blah-blah-blah for the day. I'm waving 'hi' and thanking you for coming by! I'll try to be more entertaining next time :)

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Ali Cross, Writer

If you're into writing and care to see what I'm up to, I want to invite you to my writing blog. I've only just begun it, but there you can read about my latest exploits, specifically as they relate to writing.

Not sure how exciting it's going to be ... Well, of course I expect it to be exciting! I hope to be able to show my journey to publication, lol!

In the meantime though, read if you like, share, encourage, advise. I welcome you!

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Happy Day

Today was a neat day in more ways than one.

I got to spend some time with my husband in the children which we rarely seem to be able to do these days. Then I went back to the LDStorymakers conference for a while. I enjoyed meeting up again with Ilene, a great woman I met yesterday and I think is going to be a friend to me in the future. We're going to get a critique group going, so if you're interested and you live in the Salt Lake Valley, let us know! (We would really like to find Elana who we met in line and 'felt right' to both Ilene and I. So if you know Elana - who placed with a first chapter, yay! - tell her we're looking for her!)

I also got to meet Stephanie Humphreys today! I also wanted to meet Christine from AI and Shanna - my good IF (internet friend) - but no luck. Stephanie is just as pretty in person as the beautiful sketch on her blog depicts.

Because I was sitting with Stephanie a wonderful, and not accidental, thing happened. I got to sit with other Canadians, among them was Rob Ficiur. Rob says he lived in Foremost when Stephanie told him that my hubby was from there. Rob then says that he needs to call 'this man' and shows me a note on which he has written "Joe Cross" and a phone number. I said, "That's my husband's dad!"

Rob then proceeded to tell me a little (it was hard to talk) about his experience with Joe and what a blessing Joe was to him and his family. He offered to email me with some excerpts from the book he is currently writing in which Joe is featured. He also gave me a copy of his book "Trouble in Palmyra"

I have actually had an interest in this book in the past when it on the shelves and now, having a glimpse into the heart of this man, I am very excited to read it. I think my boys will love it too.

OK, great news! I entered my first chapter of The Devil's Daughter into the conference's contest and guess what?

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I embarrassed myself when I whooped out loud when I heard I had won. Oh well, what can I say? I was excited and happy! Yay for me! But goodness, I have GOT to have my name changed legally because I'm so sick of having an alias! For some dumb reason (I thought I should) I entered the contest under my real name, Sandra, so no one knew who I was! Argh! Anyway, I'm super dee duperty excited to have won. Obviously.

OK, a few more things ... We had a little easter egg hunt for the boys tonight and that was sweet and fun. We were able to hide the eggs in much more challenging places this time which made it more fun for all of us. Then David took us out for dinner to celebrate my 'big win', lol, to Texas Roadhouse (our favorite place). While there, I was telling about the things I learned and the ideas I had while listening to James Dashner and Jeff Savage teach on strengthening your story. Together, all four of us kicked around ideas and holy cow you guys my Jump Boys story is going to TOTALLY ROCK now! It was okay-ish before (some who've read it might say not so much) but now? Watch out!! It's going to kick butt. With the ideas of my family - and can I say how awesome it was to play the "what if?" game with my seven year old boys? way fun - I've found a way to make not only my current antagonist a lot stronger but to add a really bad bad guy into the mix and how to create an almost insurmountable challenge for the boys thereby jacking up the tension and suspense by oh, about 100 %!

Now ... to put into practice the things I learned from Rachel Ann Nunes about finding time to write ...

Friday, March 21, 2008

My Pitch with Lisa Mangum and an Update

Today was the first day of the LDStorymakers conference. I enjoyed boot camp, a couple workshops and ... a pitch session with Deseret Book editor Lisa Mangum.

I really enjoyed the workshops I attended today and my pitch session with Lisa. I learned about truly becoming a writer from Rachel Anne Nunes; about how to make writing a priority, setting goals and how to truly reach my dreams. I also took a class from Heather Moore and Julie Wright about building our first novel. Their presentation was interesting but I think I was hoping for a more meaty class, where instead we got the bones. Guess we need to put the meat on ourselves? Still, it was worthwhile.

And Julie met me in the hall and gave me a hug! I was so shocked by that, but so, so touched. Time and again she surprises me with her kindness and friendliness. Oftentimes nowadays people just aren't that friendly, they don't go out of their way to be kind, they don't step outside of themselves to cheer another. But Julie continues to do that for me and today with the hug, well, she made me feel loved. Thank you Julie!

OK, so the pitch. I was very pleased to discover that Lisa was very approachable and friendly. She has a great smile too. I don't know why, but I was expecting someone a lot more reserved and removed. I was happy to find her instead to be quite approachable and fun.

I pitched The Devil's Daughter and she received it well. She claimed to really like the idea and asked that I submit the first three chapters along with an additional chapter or two showing Desi's (the main character) moment of truth so to speak - the moment when she discovers the truth of her identity. She seemed to suggest that there may be a place for my book at ShadowMountain, but did express concern over the whole devil's daughter thing. That's why she needs to see the middle part of the book where Heavenly Father makes His presence known and Desi begins to see the truth in things. I have to trust that Lisa is far too busy to invite several chapters into her life unless she is sincerely interested in reading them. So ... I guess I choose to believe that the pitch was a success and, well ... yay!

And now for my update. I'll keep it brief because I've already written a lot here. Basically, Mom is still hanging on and it's hard. Hard on everyone who is waiting to say goodbye, hard on Mom and the continued pain and suffering. David has been spending every moment he can over at his parent's house. He has been wonderful to his Mom, and to me. This has been an extremely difficult time for him, and yet he is being sweet and thoughtful of me and my needs. I hope I have been equally kind in return, but I don't know.

We are praying for Mom's release from the bonds of this life. She needs to go, she needs to free.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Creative Types

At my new job, I've met a kindred spirit!

Her name is Shauna and she is a writer. Not just a "some day I'd like to write a book" writer, but a true blue already-has-200-pages-written writer! We get talking and time flies. I have loved meeting her - and she me, I think - because we are encouraging one another to write and it's cool to talk about what fun we had writing the night before.

There's also a boy there, Anthony, who is a drama guy. The three of us can just go on and on about all our 'things' and I'm certain there's a 'type' out there for us creative people.

Creative people are flibbertigibbets to an extent, but not in a negative sense. We have our fingers and toes dipped into numerous creative streams, all at the same time. The creative types I've met are not only writers (singers, actors, artists) but also some other sort of creative expression.

Creative types see the world a little different than other types. They are all about how the normal can be expressed in a different way - their way. Life isn't just to be lived, it's to be chewed for 100 bites, savored and still swallowed hole.

I love being around creative types because they inspire me to fulfill the nagging artist inside me who wants to get out and C-R-E-A-T-E!!!


I'm super grateful that even though I have to be out at work every day, I have had the chance to meet other creative types and am being encouraged to not hide my little light under a bushel. YAY for creative types and new friends!

Monday, December 31, 2007

January's BIAM Challenge

Tristi's got another challenge for us, and I'm so excited to take it up!

I'm going to finish my Devils' Daughter by golly! The Devils' Daughter is about Desolation Black, daughter of Luke Black, aka Lucifer. Now that she's sixteen dear old dad expects her to join the family business, that is the business of ruining lives and devouring souls. The only problem is, Desi wants nothing more than to be good. The Devils' Daughter takes Desi through her growing process when she finds out who she really is.

I know, my 'blurb' needs work. But you get the picture. It's an LDS book - Desi's not LDS but two of the main characters are and the book deals with one girls desire to be baptized into the LDS Church and all the obstacles that stand in her way. I love this book; writing it has been a ton of fun, thought sometimes I'm tempted to get a little dark and I want to steer away from that.

So, my goal for this challenge is 1000 words a day for a total of 31, 000 words during this challenge. Currently, I'm at 32, 413 words so ... well, what the heck, I may as well aim for an even 65, 000 words. So I guess my goal will be about 1, 050 then to make it to 65, 000 so then I may as well just aim for 1, 100 words. Hey, I can do it!

I'll keep a little ticker on the sidebar there so you can keep track of me.

Go Me!

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Gone Fishin'

A while back one of my friends (and I'm wracking my brain to remember who ... I'm sorry I can't remember!) wrote this great blog about how ideas are just ... AHA I JUST REMEMBERED!! IT WAS JOSI I THINK! ... swimming around the universe just waiting to be caught. Like fish. Except the fish have twins or quadruplets or sextuplets or something and maybe the SAME fish can be caught by different people. The *trick* is, who will use the idea best/first/more publicly. And maybe more, I dunno.

So I'm sitting down to watch a show on t.v. tonight. Hubby's dental surgery was today (it went great! But with his heart condition and blood thinner stuff and just stuff and stuff it was a long and tiring day) and I just wanted to V-E-G in front of the t.v. I had TiVo'd a few new shows and I like to watch them up front so I know if it's a waste of space on my DVR to have them recording each week if they're no good. I got out my journal ready to write about my last few days (because I haven't been writing in case you hadn't caught on to that general theme I was moaning about the other day) and turned on the new show Reaper.

Seriously, I wrote the date and part of one line before I had to put the pen and book away because journal-writing just wasn't going to happen today. I was too busy either watching the show with my mouth hanging open or laughing out loud. And not the internet version of LOL but literally laughing out loud. The show was funny!

What the show also was contributed to my mouth hanging open. Do remember the interactive story contest entry "The Jailer"? Well I wrote that one and my intent was to make him a bounty hunter that was in charge of collecting bad souls and sending them to hell. Mild mannered accountant by day, Grim Reaper by night (or day, depending on when he was needed - just like Superman). I had intended the story, had it been picked, to be funny and entertaining as well as adventure-filled and exciting. JUST LIKE THIS SHOW!!!

Just boggles the mind.

I'm also writing a book called The Devils' Daughter in which the literal daughter of Satan wants nothing more than to be good. The similarities between this new show Reaper, my short story excerpt thingy and the book I'm writing are just well ... freakishly weird.

Guess we all caught a clone or something of the same fish, just THEY fried theirs up sooner than I did. Very interesting. Don't ya think?

BTW, Reaper was very entertaining - definitely NOT getting nuked from my TiVo list just yet. :)

Saturday, September 22, 2007

BIAM Challenge

Eek! I just realized I am about 10, 000 words behind my goal! Yikes!

It is true I haven't been writing this week. I am really sad to admit this because during that first week I felt like my world had changed and I WAS A WRITER. This week, though, I've allowed obligations and appointments to interfere and I totally DON'T feel like a writer.

In my defense though, let's examine what's gone down this week:

My sweet husband had a root canal that went bad. A piece of the file tip broke off and is no lodged in his root canal. Ouch! So he's had a few extra visits to an endodontist, and many phone calls to be made by me to arrange his appointments and such, not to mention chauffer services.

I found out I am insulin resistant, hence my inability to lose weight these past seven weeks that I've been on Weight Watchers. I am relieved to know there is a real reason why I wasn't losing weight, but sad to learn that now I have to totally change my relationship with food, not just 'diet'. Today I took the first step on the path to a new and healthier ME. Wish me luck!

Also, we had a big Mutual - you know the one with the plane crash where everyone dies and then they go to the different kingdoms to learn what awaits them there? It was powerful and moving. Wow.

OK, now that I'm writing this I can see that none of these things precluded my ability to write. I guess I have no idea why I didn't do a good job writing this week.

So see ya! I've got to go write now!

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Tragedy

(I have to preface this by saying that every time I say or hear the word tragedy I always immediately think "Traged-ed-y! When the feeling's gone and you can't go on it's Traged-ed-y" by the Bee Gee's. I mean, don't you?)

Anyway. Tragedy.

I'm sure you writer-types out there have all already been through something depressing like this, but this is my first time. I'm a tragedy virgin. At least THIS type of tragedy.

I lost a chapter in my current book.

And it was a GREAT chapter. Clever and fun, stuff happened in it. It wasn't just filler. It was my big 'reveal' chapter. This is where, if I wasn't concerned about your sensibilities I would swear my head off. I'm just ... ARGH.

My computer genius hubby tried and tried but there was no recovering my chapter. How did I lose it? I'm working on a laptop and every now and then I'll inadvertently somehow manage to undo things I've just written or cut them or I don't know what. Well, I was getting to work today and somehow my chapter five got moved out from behind chapter six and tacked on to the end of my story. I (bad bad me!) thought that it had been copied and placed there so I ... (I shudder to recall it) deleted it. It wasn't until AFTERWARDS that it dawned on me that I might have MOVED the chapter and there wasn't a copy of it hiding in its' proper place behind chapter six.

No, I did not realize it until after I had saved it.

No, I did not have a back up copy of the draft before todays work.

Yes, I feel like an utter and complete idiot.


I wrote nearly a thousand new words today, but it doesn't change the fact that I LOST nearly two thousand. Two thousand words!!!!!

I'm devastated. It's a real tragedy. Tell me, please, that I'm not alone in my sorrow? How do you get over the loss? Are you ever happy with the recreation work you do? I feel like nothing will ever be the same as that first, real love. Oh, I mean, story. We're talking about stories here. If you have any advice, oh sage ones, lay it on me. I'm dying for some pick-me-ups.

Friday, July 27, 2007

Writing Goals

Stephanie recently talked about having writing goals over on her blog. She talked about having a goal to get her work published, but that sometimes the big picture can get lost when dealing with all the details. Basically, the details don't get done.

Truth is, while I am going about my writing to get it published, I haven't actually written my goals down, or even looked too hard at them. Writing, oh yeah, lots of writing, but there's also so much more to it than that. And even that, the writing that is, can be hard to accomplish it if you're kind of looking sideways at it and won't face it head on.

After reading Stephanie's blog I felt a little like a fish out of water. Am I really a writer? Do I really want this? If not, what have I been doing with all my time? And if I do, then why am I not spending MORE time on it, working more seriously at it? Time for a decision.

So, what I did is what I always do when I'm stumped at discerning something important in my own character or I can't decipher my own dreams; I went to my husband. When I asked him "Am I really a writer? And do I really want to be published?" he just gave me that screwball look that asks "Are you nuts?". But he kindly replied "Of course you are!" (but I heard the "what's wrong with you?" tagged on there, I swear it).

After talking for a while I have come up with a plan. My husband is brilliant and he knows me better than I know myself. I should also add that he too is a writer and dreams of one day getting his work published, but he puts aside his dream for a more practical reality; that of supporting me and his children and provding enough income that I can pursue my dream more intently. I owe it to him to make his efforts worthwhile, don't I?

So here is my plan: I will spend some portion of every day, six days a week, working on my goal which is to become a published author. I currently have five books I am working on, which was part of my problem because they all clamor at me and demand to be written and since I can't write them all at the same time, I write none at all. But again, my brilliant hubby, suggested I assign each story a day, with a day left over for the business of writing - submitting and the like. I thought this was a grand idea.

Have you ever had a TV show you really liked and followed closely? Well I have, and if you're like me, you wake up on that day and you think "Today is Smallville!" and you are totally in the mood for Smallville (or whatever show it is that turns your crank). My hubby and I even have a favorite treat that has become our Smallville treat; we can't sit down to Smallville without this treat. Silly, isn't it? But I think there's a brain something going there. Wish I was a wildly intelligent scientist and I could prove to you what that might be.

Suffice it to say that my hubby believes, and I tend to believe him, that I could similarly train my brain to be in the mood for whatever story is the story of the day. I'll wake up in the morning and think "Ooh! Today is The Jump Boys!" and my mind will quickly recover where the story was last week when last I visited the boys and I'll be able to go from there. It's a theory. I'll let you know how it works out.

So Mondays I've got editing and revising of The Jump Boys: The Beacon, Tuesdays are The Jump Boys: Time Matters, Wednesdays belong to The Devils' Daughter, Thursdays are The Blood Crown, and Fridays are Her Lovely Island of Sorrow. Saturdays are for business (I have a couple picture books I have not bothered to submit yet and a short story that needs to find a home). Now don't scoff, I'm only requiring myself to write for an hour a day. That might not seem like much, but for me who has not been writing at all, that is a lot. I'll increase it, have no fear. Also, I'm usually pretty fast at getting down my thoughts once I get started. I can accomplish a lot in an hour. But think of what I could do in a day! Oh my!

All is going well with my goals this week with the exception of Her Lovely Island; I decided I needed to readjust my approach so several pages needed to go out the window but their loss has left me a little stumped. I really liked what I had written, but they simply won't fit with the direction the story has to go. It was sad for me and I found I couldn't write much more.

So, Stephanie, not that you asked for them, but here are my goals. I decided to write them down here because writing them down and having witnesses are two of the important factors in actually accomplishing your goals, or so I've heard.

Thanks for letting me share my writing goals with all of you ... care to share any of your own goals with me?


Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Readers Beware!

By now, my first book (well, second technically, but the first one is not fit for human consumption - maybe I should read it to my dog?), has found it's way into several of Inboxes, waiting to be read.

I am terrified.

I *thought* my book was done, felt good about it. It placed second in a first chapter contest. It played well in a little blog competition put on by a publisher.

But, here's the thing. Wait, you have to come a little closer, because I'm too chicken to say this out loud. Even closer. You've got to be able to feel my breath in your ear. Close now? That's good ... here it is ... shhh, you have to listen closely ... "I don't think my book is very good. I DID think it was good, but now that I know you're reading it, I think it stinks!!! Don't tell anyone!"

*sigh*

And now the waiting game. Ugh. Blech. Blah. It's hard to write new stuff knowing my book is out there, people are reading it, and maybe (ahhh!!!) they're hating it.

I think I'm gonna go run and hide now.