I have been working on a new young adult novel, one that is separate from my current series with Booktrope. I found myself ( as usual) getting hung up in the middle, so I stepped out of the storyline and focused on my main characters—this is something I do each time I find myself scratching my head. Allowing the characters to lead me is preferred but sometimes I need to focus on the characters solely to allow them to guide me. (The gut feeling of, “No that’s not right,” also helps.)
Dirty blond hair and blue eyes.
Plays the guitar
Lives across the street from the protagonist (Stevie)-name work in progress
Juvenile detention center for stealing a car to take to the beach with protagonist (beginning scenes)
Working at a music store and trying to save enough scratch to skip town.
Stevie- (not sure about the name)
Perpetual doodler. Always has a notebook on her.
Prefers to walk around her problems but a vey loyal person.
She’s working hard at school, hoping it helps get her away from her current life
Searching for her individual self not herself as part of anything she’s known
Those are both just the beginnings of very long lists of tid-bits of appearance, goals, personality, backstory, and a whole bunch of really little but very significant things. Characters are people, so it is really important that they go deeper then just where the story highlights. I often find that zoning out and letting the words make the list goes where it does. Words are necessary for writing a story. A larger percentage of the words I write never get seen by anyone but me, though, all of it mattered.
Books and houses share a strong need for a well thought out foundation.
I say this with the air of working-from-home in mind.
This summer has been one of the most challenging acts of juggling I’ve had yet. Between working close to full time hours, not sending the kids to camps, and a littler of Rottweiler/Golden Retriever mix puppies, I have been spread fairly thin. About five years now I’ve been building and focusing on my writing career. For those of you who are in similar shoes you are well aware of the “Peter Pan” feel to juggling an aspiring writing career with reality. It can really seem fruitful and even selfish. (Maybe I’m alone with that but I don’t think so.) In all honesty I have had writer aspirations since the third grade. I read Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson for a school project and I fell in love with the written word. I wanted to make people feel the kind of emotions that Katherine Paterson made me feel. I was hooked on stories at that point.
Now, I do feel like I’ve been making getting strides in the right direction and I feel as though I’m close to where I want to be. I’m currently working with Booktrope on publishing the first in my urban fantasy series. I’m also creating a young adult novel separate from the series. A roller coaster of confidence levels and learning at an accelerated rate. All this to say, I really appreciate where I am in life. I am somewhere I’ve been working hard to be. As nerve-wracking as it is I’m happy and ready to continue to chip away the em-dashes and choice adjectives.
Character creation is the best kind of work in my opinion.
Time has a way of washing everything away. Not always all of it—pieces of memories remain but effects stay written on our bones. Smell and taste linger on edge of forgetting. Long and intense periods of life are played back like dreams.
“Run,” I whisper. I lock my eyes with hers. The snake-girl scoops up her plastic bag full of what I am assuming are her belongings. Nodding at me, she bends over near my feet and wraps her skinny fingers around the sunglasses and scoops them up. The snake-girl straightens her body back to a standing position. She looks me in the eyes unsure. It seems like wants to say something. She slides the sunglasses onto her young face. The girl lets out a heavy sigh and turns her back to me. I watch her disappear into the dark alleyway. I really hope I don’t regret sparing her life.