When I plot my stories, I start with turning points.  I establish at least three instances in the story where my characters outlooks or situations change, throwing their worlds in disarray.

Usually the first one happens when the H/H meet each other.  So, in the first chapter.   Best to toss them to the wolves right away, I think.  Usually the easiest to write because this is where my ideas start.

The second one usually happens at about the 1/3 way mark.  Then there are either one or two left, with the last one being the black moment.

A week or so ago, Hal and I lamented our most recent writing stall-outs.  We’d hit the 20K-30K marks of our respective works and we both were spinning our wheels.  And then I get an email from her and she says, you know, we’ve done this before.  We stopped here last books around.

So of course, being the plotter/spreadsheet-maker that I am, I looked back at my notes, at my word count spreadsheet (Yes, I keep a word count spreadsheet that monitors how much I write each week… don’t make fun) and I realized with each of my last MS's, I’ve stalled out somewhere between 20K-30K of the way and then again somewhere between 60K-70K.

More interestingly, these spots just happen to coordinate with where I place my major turning points.

Sure enough, this time I’d stopped as I approached a major change in my H/H’s dynamic.   At 24.5K.  I knew how my heroine was going to react, but I’ve been poking and prodding at my hero to find out how he’s going to deal.

I think I figured it out and this week I started writing again.  I guess I haven’t written much over the last couple weeks, total.   Last MS, I stopped for an entire month (maybe longer).  The first manuscript, I believe I stopped for 2-3 months.  Both times, I railed at my MS, I whined to Hal and my other CPs.  I banged my head against the computer and cursed my muse for abandoning me.

Worse, I doubted myself, my ability, and my story.

This time, I just waited.  I thought about my hero.  I tried to get in his head.  I free-wrote him a little, tried to imagine him in a multitude of unusual situations.  I hashed out more of his back story.

What I didn’t do was doubt that I’d get going again.  The lack of panic probably saved me two or more weeks of paralyzed anguish.

Sure enough, one morning I woke up and went, huh.  Maybe he’s like (this).

And I started to write again.

I’m not citing some new writing maturity for this development.  Chances are I’m just too damn exhausted and worn out to stress that much.  But this has taught me a valuable lesson.

Don’t panic.

I may get more done in the rest of my life when working in stressed out conditions but, with my writing, the best approach is slow and steady with as little personal hang-ups as possible.

So tell me.  Do you use turning points in your stories?  Have you found that you stop at any particular spots in your MS to angst?  Do you panic over your writing and if so, why?  Wanna share any of your personal hang-ups?   Because seriously, you’re good enough, your smart enough and gosh darn it, people like you.  I swear.



PS, anyone have a good April Fool's Joke for us?  I'm not very good at that stuff, but I always like a good laugh.

Stuck on Repeat:  Ten Years (song) – Rev Theory (band) – Alt. Rock (genre) – Light It Up (album)

As a writer I’ve spent countless hours contemplating characteristics for heroes/heroines, secondary characters, and villains. It’s like a mental chess game with yourself. I capture one piece; then I sacrifice another. I make a move for the future, then I distract you with another. Each turn brings me closer to the goal of checkmate. In this case each piece is strategically placed to create who I see in my mind and how I want that to translate on paper into my ever-evolving final drafted character.

Yet, no written character remains unchanged. From the first time they step out onto that page, your character is constantly changing shape. You see this growth the most in a series where the main character is changing to adapt to new situations. You see this transition much faster in a single title as your main characters only have 400 pages to change and mold into the person they need to be to have the HEA (happily ever after)/HFN (happy for now-preferred by me).  Character ARCs are complex in nature, yet one of the easiest things to write because we have a chance to draw on personal experiences. Combined with the chess game, your character becomes a bigger than life person on page and draws the reader into the story.

Songs bring a lot of personality into my writing. I tend to get stuck on certain songs when I’m writing (repeat was a wonderful invention, IMHO). A thought. A memory. A phrase. Anything can stick in your mind and influence the foundation of your character. Music tends to keep my creative flow running. If I’m having a hard time, I take a song and I write something to it with my character- take the emotion from one thing and transfer it into another. Heartbreak, disappointment, anxiety, joy, your characteristic chemistry is what helps your character deal with those emotions.  Kiki’s characteristics make it difficult for me to express emotion through her point-of-view simply because she often feels every step she takes is one that can be exploited. Yet, for me, writing with music helps me step over that struggle and keep pushing forward with her characterization.

Certain characteristics run rampant in our writing as much as your voice sticks out like a beacon to your readers. Even reading our blogs every week, you don’t need to look at the bottom of the page to know who wrote this. While it may be routine for me to blog on Wednesdays (now alternating with the fabulous DRD), if I moved to Fridays, I’m pretty sure just by the tone of sentence structure, you’d know it was me writing it. Just as you’d know it was Chanceroo, Bo’sun, Hells, DRD, Hal, Marn… so on and so forth. It’s the characterization of our personalities, of our voices that show you who we are.

I spent a few years writing fan fiction, we all know this since I’m not afraid to really talk about it no matter how taboo it is or not. Learning how to write characters through someone else’s characterization of the same character helped me learn an appreciation for what it takes to make a multi-dimensional character come alive on the page. It gave me a challenge to stretch that character into something the character wasn’t but was still recognizable to a reader.

Characterization is everywhere. I see it every day, through patients, through family members, through brief interactions with people walking down the street. That’s why people watching is good for the writers brain. It gives your brain a chance to interact with the outside world while allowing it to feed on new characteristics to bring to your writing. While observing is good practice (especially if you have a good memory bank), drawing inspiration for characters is a must to create that unique personality guaranteed to sell your story.

Where do you draw your inspiration to sketch up new characters? What author inspires you to think up your own crazy cast of characters? What characteristics do you find yourself writing most often?

So Thursday, I’m propped on my couch, eating my Triple Chocolate ice cream cone, researching for my current novel by watching the latest episode of the Marriage Ref. How else am I to know how married people behave if I don’t observe them? The first couple out of the gate is a good one. The wife is the one with the beef (as about 80% of these fights are); and it seems her husband embarrasses her (as about 80% of these husbands do.) Well, it’s more than that. He’s 38 and still pursuing his dream (on the side) of becoming a (white) rapper. He’s not exactly good—he’s still waiting for his big break—and while he’s waiting for his big break, he’s making videos and having fun and working at becoming the next big rhymester. Whatever. He wasn’t exactly godawful, but even an Amish country-music listener could sense he had a bigger chance of becoming the next Madonna than the next Eminem.

Anyway, not the point. The point is that the wife ticked me off. She gets into an argument with him, wanting him to give up this stupid dream of becoming a rapper. “Why are you doing this?” she shrieked. “Because I want to be a rapper,” he says back, just as passionately. “But you’re not a success! You’ll never be a rapper! Why can’t you get over it?” blah-blah-blah.

All I could think was, “Wow, this guy is actually pretty decent because he didn’t tell her off in no uncertain terms for just telling about 4 million strangers that she thought her husband was delusional and was never going to be a success.” Then I thought, “What is her problem anyway? Is this really hurting anyone? Has he given up his day job to pursue this career as a rapper or started using her in his lyrics—that bitch my wife stabbed me with a knife—or gathered some groupie girlfriends he’s sleeping with on the side?” It didn’t appear that any of this was the case. And all I felt was sad that this wife could not feel supportive of this hobby, this passion, which I still don’t think is as weird as being supportive of a passion like cross-dressing or taxidermy.

Alec Baldwin’s first quip summed up my thoughts perfectly: “It’s not like he’s a limbless guy who wants to be an Olympic skier.” And it wasn’t. Sure, the likelihood of him being the next Eminem is incredibly slim, but if it makes him happy, why are you pissing in his Cheerios? What’s wrong with letting him be happy? Deluded people are some of the happiest people on this planet. Let him the hell alone.

I realize I’m very much in a field where I’m like a 38 year old white guy trying to be the next big hip-hop singer. Opportunities are pretty thin to the ground, my friend; however, I also know there is no harm in doing the things you love even if the success you gain is not measurable by other people’s sticks, and more importantly, quitting is the most surefire way of ensuring you never get one of those thin opportunities. Stranger things have happened. You can’t win if you don’t play; and so long as you’re still enjoying it, why not?

We all know this though. We all write because we love writing and playing with words and characters and plot. But how do you keep well-meaning loved ones from, well, pissing in your Cheerios? When you get to a certain age, you can leave home and not live with your parents who beg you to pursue a real career like teaching. You simply don’t mention your writing—though to give my father credit, he doesn’t ask me to get a real career anymore, and so long as I have my day job, he seems relatively supportive of me spending my spare time in writing. But what do you do if you’re living with someone who doesn’t support your dreams, your passions? I get that as humans we’re not going to agree about, well, almost anything, but words damage. That “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent” is a bit of a lie. Maybe they do need my consent, but words matter. As a writer, you know this. You can’t let the inflictors off scot-free. They’re still assholes. And they’re even bigger ones if they’re supposed to be people who are on your side to begin with.

How are you supposed to deal with a well-meaning troll?

Do you have any well-meaning trolls in your life? How do you deal with them? Have you ever been a troll yourself? I’ve said plenty of trollish things, usually things I regret later, because who was it hurting really? Do you watch The Marriage Ref?

It's a beautiful spring day. The sun is warm, the dogwoods are in bloom, and the air is clean and fresh. We've experienced a long hard winter. Spring fever is at maximum overdrive. Spring break is almost upon us, but you walk past your bedroom door on the way to the backyard, and what do you see?

A naked hottie, with a come hither look on his face.

The sunshine is fast losing it's appeal. A lady never leaves a willing hottie in distress. It's a good Samaritan bedroom law. No hottie must go unattended, even on a spring day. No scoffing. Hottie abandonment is a serious offense. Section 9.11 of the  Revenge Hottie Satute clearly says, if one of the men in this blog is left destitute, it is s a disservice to women everywhere.

I will never be accused of slacking in my civic duties. The first hottie on the page is mine.

Dibbs anyone?

Glittery Hooha

Now, the story behind the mixin’ of a glittery hooha be a long and harrowin’ one. First, ya gots ta collect the glitter. The best glitter makes the best hooha, and the natural be the best, despite the debate a’ some weeks past regardin’ the bedazzlin’ techniques.

I believe in the natural ingredients. So. First, ya stalk a pixie. Now, ya can buy pixie glitter in yer better metaphysics store, but the best comes from takin’ yer chances and findin’ a pixie ta trap.

Sin brings the GPS aboard now and then and I found there by several ways ta gather the glitter. I can foller her about wit’ a little dust pan and broom. Make her laugh and more a’ the stuff falls off. Or shake…recruit a hottie ta help and there be other ways a makin’ sure she moves her booty.



I also found a more dangerous way… Met a pixie wandering Tortuga in her mini version and trapped her in a jar. Lid had holes in it and I shook the pixie dust out a’ her. This coulda been dangerous, since pixies tend to have fierce tempers and long memories…but then I poured the jar half-full a’ the best rum. She were too drunk ta persue me.

So, we gots the glitter.

Next, ya need the blushin’ pink a’ fresh pink grapefruit juice. The most prime white rum and pure crystal ice chipped straight from a glacier hauled ta the ship by me friend the Kraken.

No, I’m not gonna tell ya the proportions. That be me secret. But ya ends up with a sweet drink, with just a bit blush…ya can add grenadine if’n yer more in favor a’ deeper pink.

The drink has a recipe, but fer the best, ya foller yer instincts.

Now, I be a big believer in follering yer instincts, be that fer mixin’ drinks or writin’. There be guidelines fer everything ya do in life.

But recipes/formulas/potions, all come ta little in the long run. I mean, we all know the writers that get these huge contracts and we read their books and shake our heads. I mean…what? Here is where Sin’s blog of last week comes into it.

Luck.

So, there is luck. There is knowing your genre, knowing the business, working your craft, honing your voice, putting yourself in the way of will and not wish (all hail Captain Hellion.)

I believe in being prepared. (I musta been a boy scout in a former life.) I can over-prepare to the point of being paralyzed. Then comes the letting go and hoping luck takes a hand in things.

I believe in synchronicity and serendipity. I believe in magnetism as a magical force. You put it out into the world what you desire/deserve and the world will work to get it to you. Magnetize, know your internal compass and the natural forces out there will do their best to see you reach dream harbor.

But I’m nuts.

Yet…if you believe, they will come. The attention, the publishers, the agents… Of course, you have to build that field for them. You have to do the work, show you really want them there. You can cook and mix and bake and Martha Stewart the place settings and clean the house top the bottom and put out those little hand towels in the bathroom just for guests…but you don’t send out the invitations… This party will be a no show.

So, what are the parts to a successful career launch?

1 part voice (magic glitter)

2 parts craft (rum)

1 part preparation (ice)

1 part platform (the right glass makes the best impression)

2 parts sex (pink grapefruit juice) (OK, not really…you don’t have to have sex to get    published… ‘course, it might not hurt…but…no. I don’t think so. But it helps ta have sex in the books, somewhere.)

A good straw (more of the sex analogy)

And a mad dash of luck

(If yer writin’ erotica, ya might add the grenadine here, fer more than a blush)

Shaken, not stirred (intention)

At this point, I like at light a candle, pray ta the four directions and toss some fern seeds inta an open fire.

Then I tend ta run.

(Because I have a streak of cowardice running through me, but I’m working on that.)

Ya gots a magical formula ya rely on ta get ya through the rough spots? I feel like I could mix a bucket a hooha every day lately and still be lost, but least I be a happy sort a’ lost. But I been feeling lost lately. And I don’t even watch the show!

One thing I don’t feel lost about is that the biggest magical ingredient is voice. The glitter that makes ya stand out as a writer.

What’s yer recipe fer a successful career launch? Or a drink ta keep ya brave until ya gets there? What does preparation mean ta you? How ‘bouts’ platform? How strong is your voice…does your voice glitter?

 

(And no, I did not give away the recipe, because exactly what is glitter and the actual getting of it…still my secret. Because I lied.)

I'm pretty early in a new manuscript, and I'm trying to create the all-important tension between my characters. The attraction, the little spark, the inner essence that makes you look at a stranger and yet feel intimately connected.

In my concentration and effort on creating this tension, I <i>might</i> have gone a touch overboard. Not a lot overboard, nothing in the purple prose category. No quivering bosoms or quivering pelvic muscles or . . . well, quivering anything. But when I sent the latest chapter to my thesis adviser (my very male, very non-romance-reading thesis adviser, I might add), he didn't get it.

His actual comment: "I'm not buying the sexual tension between your hero and heroine. It's too explicitly stated and too self-aware, I think."

That got me thinking. Especially the self-aware part. We tend to know everything about our characters. We talk to them, live with them crammed in our heads, give them interviews and free-write times and whatnot to get to know them better. But one of the things I've learned about my characters is that they don't always know themselves so well.

And there are all sorts of things they'd never admit, even in their thoughts.

-----------------------------------------------------------

So how do we as authors show a character's emotions without our characters being therapeutically self-aware? Cause let's face it, how many of us go around analyzing our emotions? Looking for the causes? If I'm fighting off attraction for someone, I'm not analyzing my resentment toward my father and articulating my fear of commitment. No, I'm just fuming about how much I hate the guy and being snippy when forced to be in his presence. Or maybe it's because my last boyfriend left me for a hotter version, or my mother was mean, or my third grade teacher called me a loser in class, or . . .

You get the picture. We strive to understand our character's motivations. Why are they acting the way they are acting? Why does she turn into a bitch when her mother sends a Christmas card? Why does he back off when kids are mentioned?

But I'll betcha, that while we can answer those questions, our characters can't.

Now, the fact that this professor found my the sexual tension to explicitly stated was more an issue of genre. Everything is stated more explicitly in romance *g*, and we're not the genre he usually reads. But characters being too self-aware holds true for all genres.

How about you? Are your characters introspective to the point of needing a therapist's couch? Or are they quiet about the why's of their motivations? Are you a self-aware person? Do you analyze your emotions and their causes, or just go with it?

Hi and Ahoy and all that jazz, it's your favorite and only pirate ninja aboard the RWR, Sin. Today is a very special day aboard the RWR as we're welcoming on our newest captive- um, I mean crew member- the DRD (as I like to call her), Dead Reckoning Donna! We picked up DRD from her own ship and put her up in her very own spacious dungeon- um, I mean cabin- so that she can help us help you in your quest for all things writing and reading. The very ambitious DRD will be alternating with me every Wednesday. Just think, you only have to put up with two blogs a month of my rambling nonsense. See, some good really does come to bad pirates and wenches. *grin*

With no further ado, please make some ruckus for the DRD and make her feel welcome in her new prison- um, I mean home.

***

Welcome to the inaugural sailing of DRD Cruise Lines!  I'm Dead Reckoning Donna, and I want to warn you, the waters can get a little choppy as we leave port (especially if you try to nickname me "Dead").  So sit back, get comfortable, and hoist your tankard of rum.  I'm going to spin you a fantastical tale while we share this three-hour tour.

Each of us has our own source of writing inspiration, something that helps us create and mold our stories, an elusive creature we worship with cult-like devotion.

No, I'm not talking about the Kraken.  I am talking about a muse.  Or in my case, Muse, capitalized because it's her title, her calling, her raison d'etre, the reason she can be such a pain in the--

My Muse is Endora.  (For the young pirates aboard, she's the temperamental mother in the TV show Bewitched.  For the rest of you, thank you for your sympathy.)

Endora is the perfect storm of haughtiness, disdain, and tough love.  During her unpredictable visits, I count myself lucky when she remembers to call me Donna instead of Durwood.  If there is anyone who is more confident of their contrary opinions, I haven't met them yet.  She'll bark out a laugh when I startle her with something funny (especially if I didn't MEAN for it to be funny).  She'll wrinkle her nose and sniff as if the litter box is overflowing when I've offended her storytelling sensibilities.

She's also incredibly surprised when I create something that amuses her.  I live for those rare moments when her heavily penciled eyebrows shoot up with astonished admiration.  She's miserly with her praise, as if each encouraging word causes a sharp pain in her soul, but I make her give until it hurts.

She's a witch with a capital B, but I'm driven to please her.   And she knows it.

Endora loves her job, but she's also flighty, and fickle, and rather capricious about when she will actually do it.  She is incapable of keeping to a regular schedule, so I've quit suggesting it.  If I accidentally bore her, there's a snap of fingers and a puff of smoke, and I'm instantly alone, staring at a blinking cursor on the computer screen, wondering how to lure the insufferable wench back.

What I usually do is tap away at the keyboard, resigning myself to the fact that I'm going to have to do this writing thing on my own for a little while.  Somehow the mundane task of typing entices Endora. Maybe she's planning to thump me on the head for waking her from her beauty nap.  Or maybe she's come to warn me of the hex with my name on it if I don't stop trying to write solo.

I'm never sure WHY this technique brings her back.  I doubt she knows either.  But it does.  The next thing I know, she's looking over my shoulder, snorting with derision, and then I hear a muttered, "I suppose that part's not too horrid."   It's hard to tell which of us is the most surprised by her grudging approval.

The tricky part is figuring out WHAT makes Endora happy, because, as with any diva, it's never the same thing twice.  If she adores chocolate one day, and the words flow after I've presented her with the most exquisite confections ever made. . .the next time she'll take one bite of the same stuff and spit it out as if I'd given her a clod of dirt.  If I take a nap to deal with the heartbreak of her desertion, she plops down next to me, whispering tantalizing plot points in my ear until I am wide awake, frantic to give her my undivided attention again.

Yet, as contrary as the old gal is, I can't imagine what my writing life would be like without her.  There's some sort of magic in this partnership of ours, and I've quit trying to figure out the dysfunctional workings of it.  Ultimately she seems proud of my efforts, and I like to believe she wouldn't hang around if she didn't get something out of the experience.  (I don't want to even contemplate how many other unfortunate writers she torments on her daily rounds.  We could probably have an annual convention.)

Mmm, looks like we're returning to port already.  *taps watch*  Did we finish early?  It sure didn't seem like we used the whole three hours. . .

Well, anyway, I want to thank everyone for choosing DRD Cruise Lines today, and I'm really looking forward to future trips with you.  I know you're reluctant to leave, but we'll be docking soon, so if you'd like to line up over here--

*ship lists severely to one side*

Careful!  Don't everyone try to de-boat at once!  You'll tip this thing over!

So, do you have a muse?  What is he/she like?  How do you keep your muse happy?  How does she reward you for your efforts?