Back.

It's been a while, friends, but I'm happy to see the keyboard still works in just the same way and the blog-o-sphere continues to turn happily on its axis just as it was when I last left it. 

My apologies for the prolonged silence. I had to take some time away from everything online to deal with personal issues. It was a hard road, but I'm over the worst and on to the next series of challenges life has to throw at me. I've learned a lot over the last four months, about myself and life in general, and I'm sure that'll shine through in the entries to come. 

I want to get back into blogging and the wonderful sense of community I experienced last year. I'm ready to focus on my writing platform again. But most of all I'm ready to share my goals and progress with the thousands of other crazy people out there who are doing the same thing I am. 

So, first things first: I want to write the new novel between now and August. (Typing that makes me feel simultaneously excited and ill.) Nevertheless, I think that's doable, don't you? 

It Is Finished.

On a humid summer evening in August of last year, I sat down and wrote the prologue of my novel. I didn't know it was the prologue until I'd finished it, because I hadn't considered writing a book until only a few weeks before this particular evening. I put a song on repeat and wrote until the images in my head were perfectly recorded, then sat back and read those nine pages over and over.

I can do this, I thought. I can write a book. I know it.

Now, ten months to the day, 428 pages, and 124,000 words later, my first novel is complete.

It's the best thing I've ever written in my life. Even if it never sells, I'll still love it forever and be so proud of my work. I've learned so much with this experience, and I just can't wait to keep on going down the path of my career as a writer. This has been the most exhilarating work I've ever done.

I'm so filled with gratitude that it's leaking out of my eyes a little. I just can't help it.

Thanks, Universe.

And now... I think it's party time, friends. Care to join me?

Update on the Novel

For those of you that aren't aware, I'm writing my first novel, which I expect to be completed the first of May. I've never attempted writing a book before, and I've found this to be the most exhilarating writing experience I've ever had.

It's also the longest experience I've ever had - this is definitely the most prolific thing I've written. I've composed many shorts over the years, and had a few published, but this project left those stories in the dust, length- and content-wise, months ago. It's intimidating to go back over those pages. Sometimes I look at all of them and say, "did I really write all this stuff?? When did that happen?!" It took me a long time to commit to writing a novel because I wasn't sure I had one in me. Now I feel like book-length manuscripts are all I want to write!

Composing a novel-length manuscript is its own emotional roller coaster ride. I've never experienced such amazing highs (and lows) concerning one particular project. I started writing in August of last year, and gave myself nine months to complete the project. It might seem weird, but chose the nine month mark because I feel as if I'm giving birth to something. I kind of think of this book as my first child, and I want to give it enough time to grow and mature and change into whatever it's going to be.

Recently (after hitting 50,000 words last month) I've realized the book has finally become its own entity. Knock out all the supports and props from underneath it and it still stands - shaky, grappling for purchase sometimes, holding on to whatever it can to steady its steps - because it has become its own creature, which lives and breathes through me. Soon it'll be ready to unleash upon an unsuspecting world.

I currently have 217 pages and 63,000 words. My goal is 100,000, and I feel sure I will either meet that goal or come close enough to rock-throwing distance of it by the first of May. I've reached the beginning of the real action in the story, leading up to the climax, and it's so exciting! I can't stop writing. The story has taken me over.

I've also learned so much about my own novel writing process with this project. I'm sure the next baby will be born after less than nine months... and it'll be an easier delivery, too.

It's a strange piece of horror I'm composing, one that includes ghosts, telepathy, peach orchards, red clay, witchy women, death, insanity... all tied together by the dark undulating ribbon of Southern culture. I can't wait for it to be done.

South Carolina Book Festival

I went to the South Carolina Book Festival with Brian K. Ladd and Gail Gray yesterday. It was a fun trip, and as Brian said earlier this morning, "definitely an eye-opening experience".

I wish I'd had a chance to go to all three days of the Festival. There were a lot of interesting people, especially authors, in attendance. We sat in on two panels on Sunday: Debut Novelists and Science Fiction and Fantasy: What's the Difference?

The first panel featured four authors who have published their first novels within the last year: Brian Ray, Heidi Durrow, Batt Humphreys, and Dale Neal. They all had insightful things to say about publishing your first novel, but as a first-time novelist who's gearing up to send queries out to agents this summer, I unfortunately heard nothing helpful regarding the traditional submission of query letters and networking in the publishing world. Three of the four authors had won a contest to get their book published, and the fourth, a journalist with 30 years experience at CBS, was approached to write his book.

This lack of query-and-networking commentary (and, evidently, experience) was frustrating. It was kind of like attending a seminar on how to get rich and the speakers at that seminar encouraging you to buy lottery tickets. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure each of the three authors who'd won publishing contests wrote beautiful books - each of which I'd like to take a closer look at. You don't win contests by writing crap. I give each of those writers my utmost respect. But is 3/4 of the panel being contest winners really an accurate representation of the hundreds (if not thousands) of authors who get published each year? I would've liked to've seen a more realistic approach to getting published from these "Debut Novelists".

I definitely got more information out of the second panel, and enjoyed myself a lot more as well. James O'Neal talked about his new series of futuristic crime novels, while Janice Hardy discussed her "Healing Wars" fantasy novels, a trilogy which begins with the novel The Shifter. Both of these novelists had a lot to say about the differences and similarities between science fiction and fantasy, and they had a great chemistry for a two-person panel. Janice defined the difference between science fiction and fantasy as "Fantasy writing is the exploration of the impossible. Science fiction is the exploration of what could be probable." Interesting, huh? I also got some great insights on how cops handle certain situation from James, and hope to incorporate it into the novel - considering one of my main characters is a police officer, this was a great find!

After the panels, we walked the exhibit floor and talked to several different authors. My favorite by far was Nick Valentino, a steampunk and fantasy writer who's just published his first novel, Thomas Riley. Nick had some great marketing going on. He recruited a USC student to dress up in steampunk gear and hand out flyers for his booth at the door. Nick also dressed up in his own steampunk outfit, and handed out beautiful press cards and nifty swag like this cool iron-on patch:



I got one of these for myself and another for a friend who's crazy about steampunk. Nick was ingratiating and fun, and made us feel welcome in his booth. We pooled our money and bought his book, and he signed it for us after making us promise we'd become part of his "Sky Pirate Army". It was so much fun!

Aside from Nick, there was very little fantasy or science fiction showcased, and absolutely NO horror at all. This was another disheartening discovery for me. I hope the SC Book Festival will broaden their horizons in the years to come (especially when I have a book I'd like to showcase there, heh).

Even though it was a mixed bag of tricks, I'd definitely go to the SC Book Festival again next year. I feel it's important to meet other authors and show my support for the writers in South Carolina, and this festival is just one of the many ways I can achieve that goal.

Priming the Pump

I've been wrestling with a block for the last few days. It's not that I don't know what to write about next, because almost the whole novel is in my head now. It's more that I either don't have the time or the energy to forge ahead in the story. My Clark Kent job has been kicking my ass the past few days, as it is wont to do every now and again. When I get home, all I want to do is vegetate.

But there's a job to be done... (cue superhero theme music here) ...and no one to do it but me. Let me tell you, being a self-motivator is difficult for me. Especially when I have things working against me like exhaustion and burnout and that all-time champeen of time wasters, Mr. Attention Deficit Disorder. I've been a disorganized time waster my whole life. My study habits (when they existed) used to make my mother, an elementary school teacher, clutch her head and moan miserably. So like everything else in this artistic adventure, I'm making up new habits as I go along.

Last night and the night before I forced myself to sit down and start plugging away at the block. Last night was marginally easier than Monday, but both nights were difficult. I hadn't been writing for almost a week, and the consistency of the story - a warm, silky liquid when I'm going fast and strong - had gooped up to the point of being almost solid. It took me a while to get the first few sentences right. I tore about half a page out and reworked it before I could stop rolling my eyes at myself. But then last night, the story loosened up around me and I was suddenly back in my fictional town of Bulton, sitting with Jack and Bertram at the picnic table behind the orchard's fruit stand, listening to their worried conversation about Dan. I fell back into it, and the feeling was bliss. But I had to "prime the pump" - an expression that Brian K. Ladd and myself use frequently to describe the act of working the cooling story from something thick and viscous into a liquid river of fire running right through the center of our brains.

One of the most pleasurable sensations in the world.

I was transported last night, taken from my bedroom in the dark recesses of 1 am to a sunny summer morning in a little Southern town, just outside the beautiful reaches of a huge peach orchard. It was so real I could almost smell the trees and the thick curls of Bertram's pipe smoke. I was lost for hours, and happily ignorant of the time. But before I fell through the "hole in the page" (a phrase I humbly borrow from Stephen King), I had to push and work and shove and mentally sweat my way through clunky dialogue and halting character action. I had to persevere, keep pushing against that block which had taken up residence between my fingers and my brain and wait for the story to start breathing again. Eventually it did, and the sound of its labored breath smoothed out after a bit and became fluid and loose. Until then, though, the priming was all I could do, and I pumped that story until my arm damn near fell off.

It's a valuable lesson, one I keep learning over and over, which amounts to one we all learn when we're small, barely old enough to hold a fat red pencil and make our straggling first letters of the alphabet: Never give up! Keep trying, it'll come eventually!

Gotta keep that at the forefront of my mind.

Focusing on the Goal

Now that I'm over halfway to my goal of 100,000 words, I have a conflicting rush of emotions regarding my work on this project.

This is my first book and I feel like the proverbial babe in the woods, because everyone I look up to seems to have already completed at least one novel, if not two or three or ten or... you get what I mean. It's uncharted territory for me, and I'm making it up as I go along (literally AND figuratively).

I'm a horrible procrastinator and my ADD adds to my inability to finish projects, so it took me a long time to commit to writing a book. I never thought I would be able to finish such a long project. I'm not finished yet, but I'm still going strong. It's daunting because I look back at all the pages I already have (179) and know I need to make about the same amount again to get the story finished. I know the work is starting to pick up now that the characters have been developed and the stage has been set and a lot of weird shit has gone down in the story, but there still seems to be so much left to go.

I'm proud of what I've already accomplished. This book is already the longest thing I've ever written, and the story is solid. Weird, but solid. I am worried I won't get it finished by my personal goal date (May 1st), but I refuse to give up on myself. Attending regular writers' meetings helps my motivation tremendously, because I get feedback on the pages I've written plus insights on the work I may not have thought of. It also keeps me accountable, makes me continue to produce. I love writing and I adore getting lost in my own story, but one of the hardest things about it is that there's nobody making you write, except yourself. If you don't get it done, nothing really bad happens; you just don't finish. Writers' meeting keeps me honest, keeps me working, because I feel the need to show Brian K. Ladd and Gail Gray my work. They're hooked on the story, especially Gail, and I have that great feeling that I imagine all storytellers get when they have someone entranced with a tale - exhilarated, passionate, excited, devious, a little cocky...

I'm keeping my focus on the goal of May 1st. I'm scared, excited, happy, frustrated, tired... so many different emotions, brewing together to make their own unique stew of feeling. It's hard to process. In the meantime, while I'm processing, I'm doing my best to just keep typing.