I Don't Know How We Do It

I wish I was here. With staff.

Life has me by the throat right now. I know we're supposed to be all happy and positive and not curse or whine, but holy cow patties, what an insane month this has been! With no signs of slowing down at all.

Truly, writers are mad. We torment ourselves with this idea that we are going to produce stories and books made up of fresh, original words that will inspire the world AT THE SAME TIME that we are trying to hold down jobs, take care of children, nurture our spouses, maintain our homes and fulfill the needs of whatever form of plant, fish or animal we share them with.

I frequently find myself in tears at the end of a day, or even at the beginning of it, thinking "I can't do this any more. I just can't. It's too much." The stress not only rips my psyche apart, it is bad for my physical health. I wish I could quit - either writing or my day job. But they are both necessary to my existence.

I find that when I do have some time to myself, such as late last night, I am too frazzled to focus on my writing. It's really just more work. Something Else I Have To Do. And it's got to be great. Professional. Engaging. But the little gray cells ain't got nothin' left at the end of the day. This is why it's taken me five years to write one book which is STILL not finished.

I cannot put into words how humiliating that is.

So I ask you, how do YOU do it?

First Page

After reading about first pages lately here,  here and here, I decided to go ahead and post the first page of my novel. Again. But I'm warning you, this is done. I am not fiddling with it any more. At all. Ever. So don't even suggest changes because I will ignore them like that guy with headphones humming along to music nobody else can hear.

Yes, that sentence was intentionally ambiguous. You can imagine me as the guy or as the person ignoring the guy. Same difference. I don't mean to sound belligerant but at some point you just gotta commit, ya know? I mean, it's only been five years since I started this project.


My query is also up for bashing at The Quintessentially Questionable Querying Experiment. So pop over and read it. That  I am totally open to suggestions on.
 




Chapter One   

Moonlight cast blue shadows on the snow, turning the drifts across the pasture into waves on a silent sea. Captain Faldur Relaszen of the king’s rangers crouched in the lee of the south wall of the barn. Deep scratches scarred the door from the lion’s last attempt to get inside.The sheep jostled together inside for warmth. First one, then another, bleated softly.

It won’t come back tonight. Faldur turned and looked toward the smokehouse where his lieutenant, Harth Romer, stood guard as well. Behind that stood the stone farmhouse, its windows dark, the family gone for the night.

He turned his gaze back to the pasture. A black shape slunk along the treeline, picking the easiest path through the snow. It had come after all. He raised his bow, nocked an arrow on the string and drew it back, letting his breath out slowly. As the lion came into the barnyard he saw it was a female, the points of her ears intact, too young to have been in the war. He breathed a faint sigh of relief. It wasn’t a nightstalker.

The lioness stopped and raised her head, sniffing the air. Faldur hesitated, hating to kill her. She darted with fluid grace back to the cover of the trees.  He lowered his bow. I’m getting soft.

Harth sprinted through the snow to his side and hissed, “Why didn’t you take it?”

First Day of Spring

The warm breath of Spring

Drapes the world in misty veils

Caught on yellow daffodils

- C Hardy 2012

Great news!

I am all aflutter today.

The Write Stuff Conference hosted by the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group was fantastic. James Scott Bell's sessions were funny, informative and inspiring. I also had excellent conversations with several of the other writers who attended. Their advice was to stop worrying so much about conflicting feedback and just do what feels right.

Mr. Bell said I may have "critique-group-itis." Heh. I bought all his books, thinking as I did so how valuable platform is for sales.

The REALLY AWESOME NEWS, however, is that I met a lovely agent who is interested not just in my fantasy novel, but in the new project I have in mind to tie urban fantasy into my fictional world. I know that asking for a manuscript is no guarantee of representation, but the fact that she is interested is huge for me. I never thought anyone would be the least bit interested in my work, other than my dear friends who already know my characters from Come in Character. I'm just...fluttery and tingly and a bit numb.

So much work to do: revising the old and writing the new. I hope to be able to send her a polished version of The Golden Gryphon in a few months, as well as the first three chapters of the currently untitled WIP.

So, how was your weekend?

Oh, I almost forgot... The Sunday Snapshot!

Post the last paragraph or few lines of dialogue of whatever you're working on.  It doesn't have to be perfect, it doesn't even have to be good... It just has to be yours.

I'm revising Gryphon at the moment, so this is the very last thing I worked on:

“We’d better get out of here,” Faldur shifted his bow and quiver on his back. “That elevya likely sensed us.”

Mentally he added, If you’re reading me, tell Chalmeth I wish him a merry Midwinter's Eve, and I’ve got my eyes on him.

Harth pulled out a flask of velasz, the potent peach brandy for which the Glenhym region was famous, took a swig and handed it to Faldur. Faldur raised it to his lips and swallowed. The heat rolled down his throat into his stomach, then spread through his limbs. He nodded his thanks to Harth and handed it back.

Revising Again

Oh, dear God, here I am again. Revising my fantasy novel. The poor, wretched thing I started five years ago just to get myself writing after a ten-year-hiatus.

I've grown so much since I started it that I cringe now to see my old words on the page. It was so hard just figuring out the story. I have to remember that until now I've been writing for content, not style.

Yes, I wrote it "organically." That is, by the seat of my pants. Do you know how that expression originated, by the way? It's a term from the early days of aviation when pilots lost their instrumentation and had only their instincts to guide them. Up in the clouds, no navigaion... just your butt in the seat and a prayer on your lips.

That pretty much sums up the experience!

Heading to The Write Stuff conference on Friday. Can't wait! I've got a shiny first page and synopsis to contribute to the paneled critique session. I've also submitted my query to Matthew McNish's Quintessentially Questionable Querying Experiment blog. Should be up in a couple of weeks, I guess.

I've also started a new novel. Yay! The first in five years. I've also written my first short story in about eight years, but it needs a lot of work.

How are you all doing?

Sunday Snapshot

It's time for a Sunday Snapshot. Post the last paragraph or several lines of dialogue you wrote. It doesn't have to be perfect, it doesn't even have to be good. It just has to be yours.

Here's mine:

“I am delighted to make your acquaintance.” Roger released her hand to take Audra’s instead. He brought it to his lips in a brief kiss. 

Audra’s eyebrows slid so high that they disappeared under her frowsy bangs. “I’m delighted, too.” 

Roger smiled and let go of her hand.

“Shall we go in?” he said, looking at Ginger. “We can have a drink inside.”

“Yes, please.” Ginger stood up and pushed her hair back against the wind.. “Audra?”

Audra waved them off. “Oh, no. You two get acquainted. I wouldn’t want to intrude on young love.”

Writer's Conferences and Critique Sessions

Soooo... on Friday I'm leaving for my second trip to the Greater Lehigh Valley Writer's Group "The Write Stuff Conference."  I've avoided conferences until last year because I just find the whole concept too intimidating. The subtitle of any session seems to be "What You Are Doing Wrong." The thought of publishing, while not inducing the fetal ball position any more, still leaves me quaking in my shoes.

Last year I was sick with a virus, had to get up at 4 a.m. on a Saturday in order to be there, and ended up in an unexpected appointment with a very gracious editor who guided me through a pitch for which I was completely unprepared. I could think of nothing to say. Not a word. I literally just stared at her and said, "Um, I am really sorry but I don't know what to say."

Now, I'm not such a doofus as I might seem. A week before the conference, I was informed that agent I was supposed to meet with was unable to attend.  No one else represented fantasy there, so I figured I would just go for the experience and not try to pitch my book. I ended up being shoehorned into an appointment by an overly-helpful staff member. Being high on cold medicine, when she asked me at 10:45 if I could make an 11:00 appointment I said, "Sure" thinking I had an hour to prepare.

Yeah. It was one of those days.

Me and Echelon Press author Jon Gibbs

But Karen Syed, owner of Echelon Press, was truly lovely and helped draw out a few details of my story. She gave me her card and the contact info of one of her acquisitions editors. I have not yet inflicted my book upon that poor editor.

This year I am able to arrive Friday night for the First Page critique session. Seriously, I have rewritten the first page of The Golden Gryphon so many times that only question is which first page to use. I have several well-polished versions. If only the rest of the book was that shiny!

I might even just be bold enough to bring the first page of the book I started last weekend on my writer's retreat.  After five years, something new. Woo-hoo! I don't know if I can stand it.

No fantasy agents at all this year. (shrug) That's okay. I'm feeling less intimidated about the sessions because last year was really great. At least I don't have to worry about pitching. Unless they get all helpful on me again.....