NaNo Panic

I'm a schmuck. I know it.

I finally--FINALLY--sat down to try and figure out where I wanted my NaNo novel to go, you know the goal of the book, the conflict, character charts and all that jazz when I realized that I'm no longer very interested in this idea that I thought was so fabulous two months ago. I even put off going anywhere with the idea specifically so I'd have a new project to start on November 1.

I blame it all on Taco Bell guy.

Here we are, a week from NaNo and I'm waffling on what to write about.

This morning I woke up and had the whole first scene--of the wrong novel!--written in my head.

So instead of a sweet YA romance about a girl battling grief and guilt over a friend's suicide and her attraction to the neighbor boy, I'll be writing a YA (romance) about a boy realizing that he's actually attracted to other boys, specifically the quiet, scarred boy who just transferred to his school.

Which means I have a lot of research and planning to do!

Also, if anyone wants to buddy me, my NaNo i.d. is:  J. Leigh Bailey

Back to School...

Last Thursday was the first session of my four week creative writing class at the local community college.  [A couple of years ago I took a conversational Spanish class at the same school, so I should have been prepared.  In the Spanish class, for example, we spent three of the ten class periods going over the alphabet.  The Spanish alphabet just isn't different enough to warrant such attention.]  I'll admit, I was a little skeptical about what I'd learn in the creative writing class, but I didn't figure I had much to lose (apart from $45 and eight hours of my life).




Found at: http://www.swedesboro-woolwich.com/


Here's some random information about my class:

1. The instructor is super-nice, super-chipper and sweet as can be. For her day job she teaches elementary school and middle school reading and creative writing. As such, she talks to us like we're all ten.  Don't get me wrong, she really is nice.  Just took a while to get used to her.

2. Also, as it currently stands, I have more publishing credits to my name than the instructor. Which is not to say I don't have anything to learn from her--she is a teacher, after all, and I am so far from being an expert in the craft.

3. Three people, during introductions, asked if she would be willing to read their memoir/book of poetry/song lyrics that they were working on.  For some reason, this bothers me.  It just kind of seem presumptuous.  Though as an instructor, I'm sure she'll be able to provide feedback, but still. (I had this same problem when I took at "So You Want to Start That Novel" class last April.)

4. There are 16 people in the class, and maybe a few of them I would call "serious" about writing, and the rest of them are either deluding themselves (think American Idol auditions) or are just there for fun and exploring their creative side. Which is good, but it means the classwork is going to be more general than I need--I was hoping for more in-depth exploration of plot and character development--and will include a lot of poetry.

5. We did a three-minute writing exercise which was a lot of fun. We started with the phrase "It was a dark and stormy night" then had to start a story. Three minutes later we passed our story the person to our left and had to continue the story started by the person to our right. (The guy next to me used A LOT of similes and metaphors. They were pretty good--very militaristic--and imaginative, but excessive.)

6. Our homework:  take six nouns and adjectives and use them as verbs in a sentence.  I actually had to work at that. It was much harder than I expected it to be. I actually had to get help from my parents! (I was at their house for dinner when I was playing with the assignment.)

What I learned:

I need to eventually shell out the money for a serious writing class for serious writers taught by experts in the craft. I need serious, honest feedback on my own work, which I'm pretty sure I'm not going to get here.

I know it sounds like I'm disappointed in the class, but I'm not. Not really.  I had sort hoped (as unlikely as I knew it would be) that there'd be more to the class.  This is still a fun way to spend a few hours and let me expand my creativity and hang out with other writers.

This Thursday will be the second class where we're going to explore poetry and characterization. I'm sure I'll update you with what I learn.

AND THE WINNER IS...

Quick post today to announce the winner of my
100 Followers Celebration Giveaway.

(Per random.org)

 

I'm not even going to make it suspenseful ('Cause I'm cool that way).

Congratulations to.....

Hannah at Musings of a Palindrome!

I'll be contacting you to get your mailing address so I can ship the fun Halloween-themed prizes.

Thank you to all of my blog followers.  You have no idea what it means to me that you stop in and see what's on my mind on a given day. :)

Short Story Advice -- Kurt Vonnegut

Couple of quick reminders--

Don't forget about my 100 Followers Celebration Giveaway. (Click on the previous link, not the graphic...there's no link there right now.) Sign up for a chance to win a fun Halloween prize package. 

Tonight I start a creative writing class at the local community college.  It's only for four weeks, but I thought it could be fun and a chance to meet writers face-to-face and in person. And I have nothing better to do on Thursday nights.  It was supposed to start last week, but when I got there, there was a sign on the door stating that the start date was delayed a week. 

Finally, I found this on Twitter yesterday and thought it was fun. The original post can be found here.

In his book Bagombo Snuff Box: Uncollected Short Fiction, Vonnegut listed eight rules for writing a short story:


1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.

2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.

3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.

4. Every sentence must do one of two things—reveal character or advance the action.

5. Start as close to the end as possible.

6. Be a Sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them—in order that the reader may see what they are made of.

7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.

8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To hell with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.

Vonnegut qualifies the list by adding that Flannery O’Connor broke all these rules except the first, and that great writers tend to do that.

Time to Ketchup

Er... Time to catch up!

I'm so far behind!  There's so much I need and want to do, but I can't seem to get any of it done.  Cripes.

My number one hurdle?  Work.   You may not know it, but 90% of my on-line time happens when I'm at work. Which means I'm not working when I'm supposed to.  Oops.  But, come on, things were slow. What else was I supposed to do?  Unfortunately, my on-line time was commented on so now, in an effort to not get fired, I need to actually work at work.  Darn it.

My number two hurdle?  Me.  I've commented before on my lack of personal discipline.  I tell myself that I'll do my on-line stuff and my writing stuff after work. I mean, that's what most people do, right? But I get off of work and all I want to do is hunker down with a good book. Or even a not-so-good book.  So instead of doing what I tell myself I should be doing, I'm reading a record number of good and mediocre books instead.

So, what did I hope to accomplish this month?

1. Finish the post apoc. story to submit by the Nov. 4th deadline.  I'm only about 25% done with it right now. There's no way that will happen in time, so yeah, big FAIL.

2.  Prep for NaNoWriMo.  I wanted to outline the major scenes and plot points, develop the characters. For once, I wanted to make sure I knew where I was going with the story before I actually started.  I've still got a little time for this, but it's not happening the way I would like.

3. Blog with regularity.  I'm usually good for 3 posts a week (not necessarily on a given schedule) but I've been wracking my brain for something to talk about. I even re-posted a post from last year in my desperation last week. Yikes!

See, I didn't have a lot of goals, but I'm starting to feel the pressure. 

Makes me a little nervous about the pressure of NaNoWriMo!

P.S.  The limited amount of on-line time means that I'm not commenting on all of your great blogs as much as I would like to. Even though I may not be commenting, I am reading them, but it's taking longer (my Google Reader number keeps getting bigger, not smaller!).

On my Kindle...

Did you know that an Amazon Kindle is a good way to meet new friends? I swear, every time I go out to eat (I live by myself and don't like to cook for one, so I eat out a lot) I will read from my Kindle while I'm at the restaurant. Every time (no exaggeration) someone will stop by and say "Hey, is that a Kindle? I've always wondered how that works." Then I'm honor bound (and not just a little enthusiastic) to give a show and tell presentation of all the cool things my Kindle can do. I even know current pricing and version differences.

Geez, I'm a geek.

And every time someone asks about how I like my Kindle (I love it, though I do sometimes miss the aesthetics of an actual book) they will invariably ask "What are you reading?"

So, just for kicks, here's a list of some of the most recent downloads on my Kindle:

Via Goodreads.com

Sin Undone (Demonica, Book 5) by Larissa Ione

As the only female Seminus demon ever born, master assassin Sinead Donnelly is used to being treated like an outcast. She spent decades enslaved, and now vows she’ll die before she’ll relinquish her freedom again. Then Sin’s innate ability to kill her enemies goes awry: She creates a lethal new werewolf virus that sparks a firestorm of panic and violence.

HIS HUNGER CAN’T BE DENIED

Half-werewolf, half-vampire Conall Dearghul is charged with bringing in Sin to face punishment for the plague. And she’s no stranger: He’s bound to her by blood, and the one sexual encounter they shared has left him hungering for her raw sensuality. Worse, Sin is the underworld’s most wanted and Con soon learns he’s the only one who can help her . . . and that saving her life might mean sacrificing his own.

My thoughts:  Pretty good read. Not quite as good as the ones that came before, but still darned good.

via Goodreads.com

The DUFF (Designated Ugly Fat Friend) by Kody Keplinger

Seventeen-year-old Bianca Piper is cynical and loyal, and she doesn't think she's the prettiest of her friends by a long shot. She's also way too smart to fall for the charms of man-slut and slimy school hottie Wesley Rush. In fact, Bianca hates him. And when he nicknames her "Duffy," she throws her Coke in his face.

But things aren't so great at home right now. Desperate for a distraction, Bianca ends up kissing Wesley. And likes it. Eager for escape, she throws herself into a closeted enemies-with-benefits relationship with Wesley.

Until it all goes horribly awry. It turns out that Wesley isn't such a bad listener, and his life is pretty screwed up, too. Suddenly Bianca realizes with absolute horror that she's falling for the guy she thought she hated more than anyone.

My thoughts:  I really enjoyed it. Keplinger kind of beats the reader over the head with the message/theme of the novel, but I loved the fact that any girl can relate to being the DUFF and that we sometimes make questionable, and sometimes life-altering decisions based on our own self-esteem issues.

via Goodreads.com

Duck! by Kim Dare

A modern day M/M, BDSM retelling of The Ugly Ducking Fairy Tale using avian shifters.

Raised among humans, Ori Jones only discovered he was an avian shifter six months ago. Unable to complete a full shift until he reaches his avian maturity, he still can’t be sure of his exact species.

But with species comes rank, and rank is everything to the avians. When a partial shift allows the elders to announce that they believe Ori to be a rather ugly little duckling, he drops straight to the bottom rung of their hierarchy.

Life isn’t easy for Ori until he comes to the attention of a high ranking hawk shifter. Then the only question is, is Ori really a duck—and what will his new master think when the truth eventually comes out?

My thoughts:  I loved this book.  It's one of those stories that's so intense and emotional that I would actually call it gut-wrenching. So good.  The world building and the hierarchy of the avian shifter society is brilliant. Warning: it is very explicit, and delves very deeply into the psychology of a Dominance/submission relationship--not for the faint of heart.

So, what are you reading?

Finding Inspiration at Taco Bell

I remember reading an article where J.K. Rowling explained that she got her inspiration for Harry Potter (the character) while on a train. She saw a young boy with dark, mussed up hair and Harry was born. Or something like that. I'm sure I'm paraphrasing badly.  Anyway, I had my own moment of inspiration the other evening when I went to Taco Bell. 

Normally I do the drive-thru when I feel the overwhelming desire for a Nacho Bell Grande, but this time I went in. I had time to kill, a new book in purse, so why not settle in?  There was something very intriguing about the young man who manned the register.

The first thing I noticed was that he was 15 or 16, kind of young, with dark, nearly black hair, in that shaggy cut that's so popular these days.  The second thing I noticed was that he seemed to avoid eye contact. He seemed kind of shy, and, having spend years as a cashier in some form or another, decided to be my cheerful, friendly self and try and engage him a little.  I chatted a little with him until he looked up. The second thing I noticed was that he had very pretty brown eyes that were outlined in black eyeliner, which seemed like such a contradiction from his body language and shy demeanor.

Confession time:  I find men in eyeliner strangely attractive.  Even before Adam Lambert made guy-liner a household term.

 

The third thing I noticed about this young man was the burn scars on his hand. Looking up farther, I saw that his arm was completely covered in skin graft scars. This intriguing boy with the shy smile, shaggy hair and guy-liner had at some point been horribly burned.  My curiosity was instantly piqued.  What happened to him? How did he get burned? Do people tease him or make a point of not noticing the scars? How far do the scars extend? You know, all the things a person thinks when they see that kind of scaring but, hopefully, are too tactful to actually ask a stranger. So instead of asking any of these inappropriate questions, I let my imagination create the answers. 

Now, I've been reading a lot of gay (M/M) romances lately. No, more actually, I've been devouring gay romances lately, in massive quantities. You know I love a good romance, but the added challenges of building a same-sex relationship give the genre a completely new dynamic for me. 

The combination of my recent book obsession and the shy, burned boy in guy-liner was too much for me.  During my brief stay at the lobby of the Taco Bell, I plotted an entire novel in my mind (a contemporary YA with a young, scarred and introverted main character, struggling to understand his sexuality, and understanding that some emotional scars are more painful and harder to heal than those on the outside). And this story wants out--forget that I've got another story planned for NaNo that I need to focus on.  Sheesh.

I'll probably never write the story that came to my mind that evening. Mostly because I don't think I could accurately, honestly and with sensitivity, portray the emotions and internal conflict of a young gay man, especially one facing so many other challenges.  But, by God, it's a story I'd love to read.

I love how the most random things can inspire us, and that a slight deviation in my normal behavior ultimately led to awesome inspiration. 

What's inspired you recently?

Is Spying on Teens a Crime?

Oh, to be 17 again!  Seriously, I wouldn't be 17 again if you paid me, but if I were, some parts of my novel writing would be better for it.

I'm reading a book on creating good dialogue, in particular, authentic dialogue and it made me think about what my characters are saying.  Are they too adult? Too young? Too stereotypical?  I want to create characters that young adult readers can relate to--which means they have to sound like they are the ages they are.  Apparently several authors or Young Adult novels have trouble with this--either their characters sound like educated adults or constantly speak in hip slang, both of which are unrealistic.

I find that my writing is a bit more like the former--my charcters seem to take on my way of speaking.  Call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure that a 17 year old boy in northern Minnesota would not speak like a 32 year old woman from Illinois. Go figure.

One of the "hints" in the book I'm reading about creating good dialogue recommends for people writing for teenagers is to go somewhere that teens hang out and listen, record if possible, the conversations.  Then, take the dialogue that was noted/recorded and create a scene for some fictional characters and work the dialogue in.  Great idea.  It would be a better idea if I was my friend who just happens to teach English at a high school.  I bet she wouldn't have any trouble creating realistic, authentic dialogue!  For me, the only teenagers I ever see are those who work at the local McDonald's restaurant or at the grocery store. And then their conversations (the ones that I can hear, of course) revolve around stuff like "Would you like fries with that?" or "Paper or plastic?"

I've considered sitting myself down in the food court of the local mall and observing the patrons.  Funny thing, though, the times that I've tried that, the patrons tended to be older (60 to 70 years) men and housewives with their toddlers in tow.  And the conversations I overheard really were fascinating, but not really helpful for what I needed.  Obviously, I have to find a better time to hang out at the mall. 

I've also kept track of the FaceBook entries my younger "friends" make.  These just plain make me feel old.  I don't get it.  Sometimes, what I read is crude, and I can tell it was said for shock value.  Sometimes it looks like they just typed gibberish.  Other times it confuses me to no end.  I finally found out that, unless it was something like Muahahaha or Nanananana, it was lyrics from songs I've never heard (and judging by the lyrics, songs I probably wouldn't listen to anyway). 

Then there are the t.v. shows.  I thought, maybe I'll see what teens talk like on t.v.  Hmmm.  The CW is full of shows targeted at the teen audience.  These characters, however, don't talk like any teen I've ever met.  Take Gossip Girl--maybe if my characters were priviledged super-rich kids form the Upper East Side it might help.  Hmm.

So, is stalking teens a crime?

100 Followers Celebration & Giveaway

Okay, I recently hit a first major milestone in my blogging adventures...100 followers!

I'd like to take a minute to acknowledge some of my personal "Milestone" followers.

My first non-family/non-friend follower:  Gina Leigh Maxwell

The follower that knocked me over the edge of more "real" followers (those who are not close personal friends or family) than family and friends:  Elle Rohan

My first international follower: Talli Roland (UK)

My 50th follower:  Kim Williams

My 100th follower:  Chazley Dotson
(if you look at the Bloggin' Buddies list on the right, it actually looks like Chazley is my 101st follower, but one of my followers is actually me...I somehow managed to start following myself unintentionally...so, Chazley is the 100th follower, not including me.)

The Giveaway--

I've been promising some sort of contest or giveaway in celebration of reaching 100 followers, and I've finally decided what I'm going to do.  I'm going to do a simple giveaway of a Halloween/Fall themed goodie bag.

I don't have access to any cool ARCs or autographed books, so this prize (though not completely assembled as of yet) will include the following:

• A copy of the book Silver Moon, Bloody Bullets: an Anthology of Werewolf Tales (which just happens to contain my short story "Runaway" on page 103).
• A magnetic pad of paper with cool Halloween jack-o-lanterns.
• A small notebook with cool Halloween jack-o-lanterns.
• A McCafe (remember, I work in collaboration with McDonald's Corporation) tote bag.
• Plus a couple of secret surprises!

Now, to win this fabulous collection of goodies, simply comment below. You get:
+2 entries if you're an old follower
+1 entry if you're a new follower
+1 entry if you Tweet about the giveaway (include  @JenniWrites so I can see you!)
+2 entries if you mention it on your blog. 

Leave me a comment below with the total number of entries.  I'll draw (or, more specifically, Random.org will pick a number) on OCTOBER 24 and I'll announce the winner then. 

Fun, right?

P.S. International Followers... I'm not going to be able to ship the fun prize package internationally. BUT, still go ahead and enter. If an international follower wins the giveaway, I'll actually send you a giftcard for Amazon.com as a prize (and if Amazon doesn't deliver in you corner of the world, we'll negotiate some other fun e-mailable gift voucher). 

Double Jeopardy--Two Blogfests for the Price of One!

Really long post today, folks! I've signed up for two blogfests today!  First, because I signed up for it first, is the The First Novel that Moved Me.  Scroll down a bit farther and you'll see the second fun event, the Hook, Line & Sinker Blogfest!

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Brad at  Brad Jaeger, Aspiring Author is hosting a blog hop.  The topic: The First Novel that Moved Me.

Here's what he's looking for:  "what is the first book that you remember reading that resonated with you? What novel left your mind lingering in thought over it day after day, well after you read it?"


Be sure to go HERE to see the other entries!  Thanks, Brad, for such a fun blog hop!


When I first saw the prompt for this blog hop, I thought and I thought.  I've been reading for almost 30 years, surely there had to be a book that was sort of the defining moment. You  know, somewhere after "Dick and Jane" and before my book and a half a day reading addiction I'm facing now.


Now, I'd like to say that it all started with some great piece of literature--like, I tried to read To Kill a Mockingbird at age 12 and it changed my life, but that's not really what happened. I never could get through To Kill a Mockingbird, even to this day. [My best friend who is a high school English teacher has read it three times a year for the last 6 years.] 


I could make an argument that the Little House on the Prairie series captured my little girl heart and there was no looking back after that. Which is sort of true. On the Banks of Plum Creek is one of my all-time favorites. But no, not that one either.


The first novel that moved me is one that you'd be hard pressed to find today. You've probably never heard of it, either.  It was one I found in my middle school library and I think I was the only one to check it out, which I did, about three times a year for the three years I was there.


Before I reveal this mystery novel, I'm going to give you a bit of back story.  It won't be in the form of a flashback, and it's not a prologue or opening chapter of The Story of Me.  Basically, when I was 10 my parents got divorced. Pretty common thing, and it wasn't horrible or violent. Just they didn't love each other and couldn't live together any more. Then my mom and my brothers and I moved to a town in Wisconsin that was miles away (figuratively and societally) from the small town in Wyoming where I'd grown up until then.  In this town, at this school, I got teased a lot. I didn't wear Guess jeans (the one time I convinced my mom to buy me a Guess t-shirt, I was then made fun of for wearing "generic" Guess, which is a contradiction I wondered at even then). I *gasp* was already wearing a bra (side note: fifth graders today wear bras all the time, but apparently at the time, that made me a freak).  Anyway, it was a bad year for me. Then we moved to a slightly smaller, less pretentious town where I lived until college.  Okay, the back story's getting kind of long. The point is, it was at this time that I started using books as an escape.  I read to get away from the real world.  That's why, to this day, I read books that have a happy ending, where, no matter what happens, the good guys will triumph and the guy and the girl will live happily ever after. 


When I started middle school in this very nice, less pretentious Wisconsin town, I spent a lot of time in the library and discovered this great book called The Matrix Witch by Marjie Douglis, which was a Young Adult Paranormal Romance written almost 20 years before Twilight.

Meaghan Lake appears to be a teenager like any other, but her schoolgirl appearance is deceiving--she is really a "white witch"-in-training.

Was it a "good" book? I don't know. I haven't read it in almost 20 years (let me tell, that makes me feel kinda old). There was nothing extraordinary about the plot or the characters (excpet that they were witches and could wield magic). It was a fairly typical YA romance. Guy and girl meet. They date while both are hiding something from each other. In the end, they work together and save the world. But this was THE book that had me falling in love with romance.  And, looking back, it was my first real foray into the paranormal.  And it was entertaining. I would read this book over and over again while I had it.  It was like the literary equivalent to 16 Candles which I could watch, rewind, and watch again, over and over. It was a fun escape that ended with "happily ever after", which is what I still look for in a novel today.
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This next blogfest was a totally last-minute addition that I came across when I stumbled upon a fascinating new blog.  Justin at In My Write Mind is hosting the "Hook, Line & Sinker" blogfest.  Here's what he's looking for:

Please post a 1000 word (a few over is okay) sample of your hook. Preferably, chop it right out from the opening of your manuscript. I'd like to see the range of openings various writers have to grab attention. Can you establish a great character relationship in just those few words? How about showing the world? Whatever your hook is, post it for the fest and we'll do the little jig around it (and give you comments along the way).

Here's my entry. Be sure to go here and check out the other entries! This is the first scene of my post-apoc. short story that will probably not be finished by the submission deadline I was aiming for. Anyway, let me introduce you to Jay and The Gatherers.

“I’ve almost got it.” Jay groaned and tried to make his arm reach just a little bit further without disrupting his precarious position on the eroding edge of the ravine. The only thing keeping him from tumbling into the rocky chasm below was the leg he had bent around an anemic looking sapling that had dug its young roots into the sandy, gravel covered dirt. His entire torso and upper body hung suspended in midair. A small hand, nearly as delicate as the baby tree, gripped his filthy leg just above the ankle. Jay didn’t have much faith that Lily could keep him from falling if his weight managed to uproot the tree. He was more afraid that if he lost the battle with gravity, he’d take her with him. No one could survive the long drop into unforgiving boulders, let along an emaciated eight year old girl.



He felt a bead of sweat tickle its way from his hairline and down the slope of his nose, pausing for just a moment at the tip before it fell away. His eyes automatically followed the tiny drop make its descent. In that moment of incautious distraction, his body slipped forward. It was only a bit, the smallest fraction of an inch, but he gasped in a breath and tried to press his hips and thighs harder into the earth. Lily’s small hand dug in, her ragged nails scratching his skin.


“Hurry, Jay. Please hurry,” she pleaded.


He focused on his prize—a small silver cell phone—strained every muscle in his arm until he could just touch it. He managed pinch it between two fingers and, holding his breath, he drew it up with as much care as someone carrying TNT through a minefield. As soon as he was able he shifted his hand so that he could grip it more securely and reached behind him.


“Grab it, Lily.” His voice was breathy from exertion.


He felt her take it from him and let out a long breath. Using only the muscles of his thighs and abdomen he levered himself up and onto the ledge. Once he was solidly away from the ledge, he lay back on the ground and sucked in several deep breaths. He pushed back his shaggy sandy blond hair and wiped at the sweat covering his face before turned his head to look at the girl next to him.


“It’s a good one, isn’t it, Jay? Ricky will like this, right?” Lily watched him with wide violet eyes that looked huge in her gaunt face. Eyes that were too sweet and innocent for the lives they lived.


“Yeah, Lil. Worth two cups of water at least. Maybe even some extra meat.”


Jay looked at the little device held in her small hand. He remembered when cell phones were everywhere. Everyone had one. Hell, once upon a time he’d had one that was never far from reach. He’d spent hours talking with his friends, or texting. Taking pictures of random things that didn’t mean anything. Then it was just standard. What 15 year old boy didn’t have a cell phone? Now, two years later it was a rarity. A rarity that just might earn him and Lily extra portions at meal-time that night.


Ricky was a mean son of a bitch, but he’d come through on the deal. A cell phone—more importantly the chips and electronic components of the cell phone—were in high demand. Other items that could be melted down and reformed were also high priorities. Reusable containers were okay, but wouldn’t earn a kid more than a sip of water. He sat up and groaned as his muscles protested. “C’mon, Lil. We’d better get moving. It’s going to be dark soon. Put the phone in your sack.”


Lily’s bag already had a small collection of loot that she’d gathered—a rusty pocket knife, an empty plastic bottle, a metal rod of some kind. She pulled the small sack off her back and set the phone inside. She was just pulling tight the drawstring when he heard footsteps approaching.


Three young men, bigger and bulkier than most gatherers, approached them, their steps confident, big smiles on their face.


“Hey girls.” The one in the middle sneered, crossing his arms across his brawny chest. His buddies apparently thought referring to Jay as a girl was funny. They grinned and chuckled at each other. “What’d you find? I saw you hanging over the edge. I kind of hoped that you’d fall and we could all see if you could fly. And, if not, well, it wouldn’t be any loss. It must have been important, though, to have you risking that much.”


“It’s none of your business, Peter. Let’s go, Lil.” Jay grabbed her arm and started to pull her towards the caravan.


“Here’s the thing,” Peter said, stepping in front of them. “Me and the boys”—he gestured to the guys following him—“had a pretty light day. Didn’t find much of anything.”


“Sucks to be you.” Jay tried to skirt around them.


“See, that doesn’t work for us. We’re growing boys. We need our food. And Steve here, he’s got low blood sugar. He gets grumpy when he doesn’t get a good meal. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”


Given that Steve was taller than any of the other gatherers in their crew, with easily twice the body mass of Jay, his being grumpy could be a bad thing.


Lily tried to hide behind Jay. He felt her trembling. Peter, Steve and Brad were bullies, and they were good at it. Most of the other kids feared them—and for good reason. They were bigger and meaner than any of the others, and made a habit of stealing the other gatherers’ loot instead of searching for themselves. Ricky and his crew didn’t particularly care how the loot was acquired, just that it was. Being the same age as them, and nearly as big, Jay was usually left alone. They must have seen the find and decided it was worth taking on Jay.


“We did find something cool in our hunting,” Peter continued. He pulled back the side of his worn jacket to reveal a 12 inch hunting knife secured in his belt. The silver edge gleamed in the afternoon sun as he pulled it free. He pointed it at Lily. “Neat, huh?”


Lily whimpered, burying her face harder into Jay’s side.


“Now, I’ll ask again, and don’t make me repeat it. What did you find?”


Jay glared at the boy, knowing that Peter had no qualms about using the big knife. “A cell phone.”


“Nice. I think we’ll take that. Along with whatever else the little girl has in her bag.”


“No!” Lily gasped, gripping the thin straps in her hand.


Peter waggled the knife at her. “Uh uh uh. I don’t think I asked. Hand it over, or I’ll show you how much fun a big ol’ knife like this can be.”


There was something cold in Peter’s pale blue eyes, an evilness that Jay hadn’t fully appreciated before. He wrapped his arm around Lily’s shaking frame. “Go ahead, Lily. Give him your loot.”


“But, Jay…” she protested, choking on fear and tears.


“Just do it. It’ll be okay.”


Lily opened the bag and dumped her loot on the ground in front of them. Then, sobbing, she ran towards the caravan as fast as her legs could carry her.


Peter gathered the random items and dumped them into his own sack. Jay heard the clang of several other items. “Excellent. We’ll eat well tonight, boys.”


Sure, Jay thought, and a bunch of starving little kids will go hungry thanks to you.

So, sorry about excessive length of today's post, but I couldn't resist signing up for these fun events. Now, if you've managed to make it through all of this, go back and check out the rest of the entries for the "The First Novel That Moved Me" and "Hook, Line & Sinker" blogfests!

An Award to Share

First, the fabulous Quinn at seeing, dreaming... writing has passed on an award. Of course, that was before I changed the title and design.  Hopefully it was the lovely content that earned the mention!  If you haven't yet, be sure to check out his blog.

The rules of this award are: acknowledge the person who gave you the award (Thanks, Quinn!) and pass it on to 15 blogger's you've recently met. 

I'm passing this award on to the following people:

Kelley at Flowers for a Ghost
Bish at Random Thoughts
Talei at Musings of an Aspiring Scribe
Michelle at Author Michelle McLean
Angela at Jaded Love Junkie
JW at In the Flow: A Writer's Journey
Nancy at N. R. Williams, Fantasy Author
Shallee at Life, the Universe and Writing
Cholisose at Rose Transpose
Kelly at Nerdville Rhapsody
Roni at Fiction Groupie
Mia at My LIterary Jam & Toast
Cheyanne at Cheyanne with an A
Misha at My First Book
Misty Waters at Writer's Block ~ Oh wait, I mean Blog

If you haven't seen any of these blogs, be sure to stop by and check them out!

I'm a grumpy gus

I'm grumpy.

I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to do anything.  I just want to sit around a sulk. Wallow in my own self-pity.

Nothing bad happened. I'm just in a mood.  In fact, if you saw my post Monday, I have several reasons to celebrate. But no, I just want to bunker down on my couch with a bag of Doritos and a 2 liter of Diet Pepsi and watch the first four seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

But I don't have time for this particular mood. 

I have to work. And my job generally requires me to be upbeat and perky.

I have a writing deadline.  I still need to finish and have a couple of people beta read my post-apoc. story, and the deadline for submitting it is fast approaching.

I have plans to get together with the girlfriends from college this weekend, and they don't want to spend the time with a grumpy gus.  *sigh*

I've got to break out of this funk and take charge.

Do you let your moods affect your writing?

The Baddest of Good Guys

Here's a question for you all--How bad can the protag be and still be a relatable (maybe even likable) character?

I'll admit it. If I don't like the main character, I have trouble liking the book. And I want my main character to be a "good guy." So if the MC is a total prick, I don't really care if he gets hit by a bus or offed by a mafioso type.  Which I guess is about the character's likability.

But what about if the MC is a criminal kingpin or a hitman? What if, for all intents and purposes, the protagonist is actually a bad guy? Do you still want to see him as the male lead in a romance novel?

I guess in the end, it's all about his motivation.

For example, someone who is a cold-blooded murderer wouldn't make the best romantic hero.  Unless he's Roarke from J. D. Robb's "In Death" series and the murders he committed were justifiable retribution for a more heinous crime. We can forgive him, and maybe even applaud him.

On the other hand, a paid assassin who is, quite literally, only in it for the money and doesn't care who the victim is, might be a harder sell as a romantic hero.

A rapist might make a reader cringe if he was suddenly the male half of a romance novel.  But what about Vishous in J. R. Ward's "Black Dagger Brotherhood" series, who, back in a time and culture where it was required, sodomized a defeated opponent and to refuse would have meant his death and dishonor to the opponent. Somehow, we can forgive him. (The fact that he regrets it horribly, helps.)

Robin Hood, a notorious outlaw who robs people should be vilified, but because he steals from the rich and gives to the poor, he's romanticized instead.  Would we be as accepting if good ol' Rob stole from the rich to support a terrorist cell? Probably not.

See, it's all about the motivation.

The reason I ask this question is that I started reading a romance novel where the male MC is an assassin.  In the first scene he cold-bloodedly kills the target and then meets his assassin family for dinner.  It was just a job.  There was no indicator that someone's life (except maybe that of the victim) hung in the balance. He wasn't trying to support a bunch of orphans, or eliminating a blood-sucking vampire bent on destroying the mortal population. After that opening scene, I'm not sure I want to go on to figure out what, if anything, makes him likable enough to deserve a Happily Ever After ending.

So I ask you, where do we draw the line between what is abhorrent to us and what we're willing to overlook and forgive? And, on another train of thought, does our MC actually have to be a good guy?

PS.  I'll add here that I focused mostly on romance novels here.  I understand that there are many novels of all descriptions where the main character isn't completely on the up-and-up. In romance novels, there is more need for the MCs to be likable.

PPS.  Though, even in non-romance books, the MC should be relatable and sympathetic...right?  Even in the book The Godfather, the MC started out with good intentions as opposed to a desire to maim and destroy for the sake of maiming and destroying.

Big News!

BIG NEWS. THE BIGGEST. IT'S HUGE. I mean, it's GINORMOUS.

First, you probably noticed the new design and the new title, yes?  What do you think? I'm not entirely sure I'm 100% satisfied, but I like it for now.

Thanks to everyone who entered my "Name My Blog Contest."  You did not make it easy for me, though. I had a lot of suggestion, a lot that I really loved. I even had my friends and family members vote on which they liked better.  And would you believe that each and every person I showed the "finalists" to picked a different title?  Sheesh! 

For those of you who are interested, the winner (the one who sort of inspired the new title) is Cholisose @ Rose Transpose.  I'll be e-mailing you shortly with your prize--$20 gift card to Amazon.com.  Thanks so much!


Now, more news.  I noticed I was creeping towards 100 followers last week and on Thursday, it happened!  Woo-Hoo!  So now, I have to have a celebration, complete with prizes!  I'm asking you to be patient, however, as I determine the most fabulous prize (and as much as I'd like to send a special winner to Las Vegas, that's a bit out of my price range) and some sort of contest type thingee.  So, stay tuned!