Spicy Brains

I missed last week, too, I know. Here's the thing: September sucks.

I mean, it's great that it's starting to cool down again, and fall is pretty much my favorite time of year, but here's the thing... I have a Day Job. And at the Day Job, we mostly do government contract work. And mostly (currently, exclusively) for the US government.

The US government has a fiscal calendar that runs from October 1 through September 30 of the following year. I have no idea why, really, but it does. What that means is that the majority of our contracts end around the end of September, which means we (at the Day Job) have to wrap up the work (which is sometimes a bit of a scramble) and package it up and deliver it (which is always a scramble). And even the customers with contracts that aren't ending generally want a lot of reports and data packages around that time so they can include it in their end-of-year reports.

So pretty much all of September -- especially the last half of it -- are always slammed for me at the Day Job. Which has the effect of eating into everything else I do in a domino effect of exhaustion.

But! Yesterday I sent out two huge packages, and once it was done, the rest of the afternoon was fairly calm. And we're in hurry-up-and-wait mode on a couple more packages, so the next day or two look to be fairly quiet for me (not so much for others) and I thought: tonight, I will Be Productive!

My slush pile had gotten huge. I had -- no kidding -- more than 20 submissions for Torquere's Christmas short story line, so I waded into that and Got It Done. (If you are reading this and your story was rejected, let me say this: There were more than twenty stories, and there are only three release dates in December. There's no way I can handle more than nine or so of them in a month, and I agonized really hard over the choices. There's a good chance that if your story went through a couple of rounds of beta-reading and revision that it would be a solid contender for next year's Christmas collection.)

And then I did some crocheting, which doesn't sound particularly productive, but the piece I'm working on now has a hard deadline (it's a gift for a child's birthday that's in a couple of weeks), and then there's another piece in the queue that I've been commissioned to do, so that's going to be moderately urgent, as well.

And then... O Best Beloved... Then... I wrote.

See, earlier in the day, E. M. Lynley had put out a call for submissions that tickled a thought in my brain. It's a twisted fairy tale call, and I had this story idea a while back for re-imagining "The Gingerbread Man," but it had never quite gelled. I mentioned this on Facebook, and several friends concurred that I needed to write this. And then a bit later, while I was crocheting and turning the thought over in my head, I figured out what my opening hook was.

So I turned off the overhead lights and put the lamp on its dimmest setting. I lit a gingerbread-scented candle. I used Freedom to turn off my internet access for an hour, and Isolator to block out everything but my word processor. And I wrote for one hour. At the end of which I had just over 800 words. Wow. Considering how little writing I've been doing for the last few weeks, I'm very impressed with myself, honestly.

And now, as your reward for having waded through all that, a snippet from last night's writing!

***

Jonas remembered when he was fourteen, Dad had taken him aside, fidgety and uncomfortable, and Jonas had realized he was about to get The Talk. A couple of his friends had gotten The Talk from their dads already, and Jonas figured he already knew pretty much everything he needed to know from them -- plus there had been those films in Health Class that had managed to be simultaneously vague and gross -- but it was one of those things that everyone had to endure, like homework, or letting your aunts pinch your cheeks. So Jonah sat on his hands and studiously avoided meeting his father's eyes, waiting.

Only Dad hadn't really given him The Talk, not the way Jonas' friends' dads had given it. Dad had coughed a few times, cleared his throat and then coughed again, and finally said, "Look, son... There are things a young man just needs to learn for himself, and anything I try to tell you isn't going to do any good. So I'll just say this: a man acts responsibly, and with honor. You know what I'm trying to say, son?"

"Sure, Dad."

"Good. Then we're done-- Oh, one other thing. If you bring a girl back here to the house-- Well, I expect it's better than going out to the park and getting caught, but if you do, it's probably best if your mother doesn't know anything about it. Eh?"

By this point, Jonas' face had been aching with the force of his blush. He nodded quickly. "Yeah, sure, Dad."

(It wasn't until later that he had realized that he couldn't bring anyone to the house for anything more illicit than playing video games anyway, because he shared a room with John, and there was no threat or bribe on Earth that would be big enough to put a lock on the eight-year-old's mouth if he caught Jonas kissing a girl.)

Phases

Lynn and I were chatting the other day...

(An aside: Lynn is not her real name; it's a pen name. That's hardly news. I first met her more than 20 years ago, when we were both in college, and we've been best friends for most of those 20+ years. You would think, with that kind of history, that I would have trouble remembering to use her pen name when I'm talking about her as a writer, but I really don't. I never freeze, fingers poised over the wrong keys, and then correct myself; I never even think her real name when I'm talking about her on this blog or on my Facebook page. She's just Lynn, as if the writer-friend is a completely different person from the best-friend. Sometimes I find it weird, and sometimes I think maybe Lynn is just the name she was always meant to have.)

As I was saying, Lynn and I were chatting the other day and somehow we came to the conclusion that the first phase of our prompt-fic project is done. That is, we've written about all the little ultrashort fiction pieces that we need to write. (Which is good, because I think both of us were starting to run into a bit of a wall on them.)

Phase two is for us to both read through everything and sort it all out. There may be some pieces that, in retrospect, we don't think are good enough to keep. There are a couple that we might decide would be better if we pulled them out and expanded them into standalone works. There's at least one that I left unfinished, that I should complete; and there's an intended series of three that Lynn's only written two of that she should finish up.

While we're at it, we need to decide on a rough order and presentation: the stories range from sweet and simple to edgy and kinky; from contemporary to urban fantasy to science fiction; and we've covered a pretty broad range of sexual identities and orientations. So we need to figure out whether we want to start off slow and sweet and progress to the weirdest and hardest stuff, or just mix it up entirely. Should we segregate sections by sexual pairings, or just assume that, like us, our readers are into a little of everything? Do we put some descriptive keywords (e.g., genders, genre, kink level, explicitness rating) at the top of each to help the reader know what they're getting into? About half of the stories were generated from prompt words -- would it help the reader to know what those words were, or would it just be a distraction?

Lots of things to decide; this phase may actually turn out to be more work than the first one.

Phase three will be much easier -- we'll ship the collection off to the amazing and talented V. L. Locey, who has agreed to do an introduction for us, and we'll edit everything to within an inch of its life.

And then we'll submit it. Phase three is going to take maybe a month. I have no idea how long phase two is going to take, though, because it's much weirder than anything I've ever done before. It would be much easier if Lynn and I could get a day together that's just the two of us (without the kids or menfolk or any other distractions) and sit down face to face and figure it out. Put all the info on notecards and shuffle them around, or something.

And if you have any suggestions or comments, please feel free to speak up. Especially if you have an opinion on the ordering and/or keywords/prompt questions above!

Newsy

I know I haven't posted for a while. Bad author; no cookie!

But! But but but! This week, there is news!

First and foremost, we are only one week from the release of Human Aspect from Prizm Books (the YA imprint of Torquere). I'm so excited for this story, I can't even begin to tell you!

What's that, you say? Excerpt? Why, yes, you can have an excerpt! How about something just a little sexy?

[Dauch] woke from a doze with a start at the sound of bodies moving through the underbrush. He sniffed, but caught only the faintest of scents; he was upwind.

It was the same pair, though, he was certain of it. Even in the dark, he could make out the red of the female's hair, and the breadth of the male's shoulders could not be mistaken. Dauch's tail whipped through the air, but he remained still otherwise, watching them.

They had gained some confidence. The male did not plead, but took the female into his embrace quickly. They grappled in near-silence, punctuated only by an occasional grunt or groan. Dauch was amazed and confounded by the things they did with and to each other.

What was the purpose of that caress, or such a position? Was it sanity to allow a female to use her teeth thus? What lochmar would put his mouth there?

When the female cried out, the male petted her hair tenderly, like a mother soothing a child. But she did not whimper as if in pain or fear, and indeed reached for him again. Dauch realized, with startling clarity, that their purpose was not mating, but pleasure alone. He could scarcely believe such a thing -- but though he waited and watched, the male never mounted to plant his seed, letting it spill fruitlessly to the earth instead.

In silence, then, the humans dressed. They clung to each other a moment longer, and despite the wrongturned wind, Dauch could smell the musk of their strange and fruitless passion. His tail lashed in confusion, but when he resumed his natural shape, his body's reaction was painfully intense.

That's about as explicit as the story gets, by the way -- this is not the purchase to make if it's erotica you're after. Because of the maturity of the content, this is being classified as a "New Adult" story, the very "oldest" of Prizm's offerings, but it is still a YA imprint, so there are lines that remain uncrossed in terms of what's shown on-screen, so to speak.

***

And in other news, I finally finished my novel, Foxfur, and submitted it. I don't even want to admit how long that's been in the works. Its initial incarnation, Willow Bough, is some eight years old, and I didn't seriously think about publishing it until at least three years ago -- at which point I ran into this brick wall of, quite honestly, kind of hating the plot.

It had all my least favorite story elements.  The bad guy was bad for no apparent reason. (Or rather, he had perfectly good motives, but no excuse at all for carrying anything to the extent that he did.) There were threads introduced and never used; there were characters and capabilities showcased that later completely disappeared; the climax smacked of deus ex machina, and the denouement was actively depressing. And all of that could have been overlooked if the main character had been especially relatable and on a journey of self-discovery, but he wasn't especially likeable, and worse, he was passive, apparently unable to act on his own behalf. (To be fair, it had started out as an exploration of total power exchange submission, but I didn't realize at the time that's what it was, and so I'd utterly failed on several points, including the understanding that good submission -- by which I mean both enjoyable and readable -- is an active decision rather than a passive one.)

Despite all that, I liked the feel and tone of the story. So I spent a long time trying to fix it before eventually I gave up and shelved it.

A couple of years later, I had an idea of how to revamp the story to make it better. It required, however, starting over, completely from scratch. The only bit of Willow Bough that remains to this story is the main character's name and profession (sort of). Everything else is completely revamped: new bad guy, new plot, new romantic interest, and most of all, a new personality for the main character.

(When Lynn beta-read it for me, she said two things: first, that she'd opened the file when she received it that night just to make sure it hadn't been borked by the email -- and found herself looking up when she got to the end only to discover it was one in the morning. And second, "You really weren't kidding when you said you started over from scratch." Because usually when an author says they completely rewrote a story, what they mean is that they edited extensively. Not, you know, actually rewrote it.)

Anyway, if Torquere accepts it, it'll be my first real novel, which makes me feel pretty excited!

Following Directions

All over the web, you can find advice for writers who are looking for their first publication. Some of it is advice about the writing itself, and some of it is advice on how to find a publisher that's a good match with your work, and some of it is advice on how to actually perform that submission so that your work will stand out and be noticed in the slush pile along with all the... well... slush.

In that last category of advice (and often in the other categories as well) you will see this invaluable bit of advice: Check and follow the submission guidelines. ALL OF THEM.

Torquere's submission guidelines are at http://www.torquerepress.com/submissions.html. JMS's guidelines are at http://www.jms-books.com/index.php?main_page=page_2. Nearly every publisher -- even the big ones -- have submission guidelines linked to their front pages (even if those guidelines are "we are not accepting submissions at this time" -- don't ignore this, or you may have made a name for yourself as someone who doesn't know how to follow directions by the time they are accepting submissions again).

Now... I've never thrown out a slush manuscript for failing to meet the formatting guidelines, or for using British English instead of American. (I even accepted a story once that was a downright formatting nightmare, because the writing was strong and the story was sweet and hot.) When I reject a story from the slush pile, it's generally because the writing is still too rough for publication, or because Torquere (I don't read slush for JMS) isn't the right audience for the story (straight-up nonromantic erotica, for example, or stories with tragic, non-HFN endings).

But some of those guidelines have more to them than simply making things easier on us to edit.

Recently, an author sent us a whole collection of short stories. The writing was good -- really good -- and so we took them. The plan was to publish each story separately, and if they did reasonably well, to bind them together into a collection. So I started in on the pile. I edited the first story, went through the edits with the author, and then sent the file on to my proofreader...

...who sent it back and said, "Were you aware this is fan-fiction?"

Well, no, I hadn't been aware of that. The show it was based on isn't one I've ever seen. Ditto for the editor who'd first picked the collection out of the slush pile.

Right there in Torquere's guidelines, it says:

...We will also reject stories that are clearly a copyright infringement, including any that have been converted from fan fiction or that are based on TV shows, movies, or literary characters.

JMS has a similar notation. In fact, pretty much every publisher says this. It's one reason Fifty Shades of Grey got such a bad rap, because it was pretty well an open secret that it had started out as a Twilight fan-fic. It had been sufficiently altered so that its origins were no longer obvious, which is how it managed to skate through to publication.

I sent the information and the tags and tells the proofreader had marked on to Torquere's management, who spoke to the author about it. The author admitted that every story in the collection was, in fact, a fan-fic. Now, I can't swear as to the wording of that author's contract, but Torquere uses mostly boilerplate contracts, and my latest contract with them reads, in part:

The Author certifies that this is his/her original work, and that he/she maintains the rights to this material. The Author certifies that this work is not based upon another entity’s copyrighted work.

Standard boilerplate stuff, mind you. Which means that the author was in breach of contract. Sigh. So now there are ten stories that we thought we were going to publish which are now off the schedule.

I don't have anything against fan-fic. Some of it is horrible, of course, but some of it is really good. This story was really good, and I'm both sad and angry that it turned out to have been fan-fic, because it would have made a great addition to Torquere's offerings.

But the author didn't read the submission guidelines carefully enough. Or did and thought that maybe we wouldn't notice. Or that this rule didn't apply to them. Or whatever.

Well, whatever, indeed: Read the damn directions. Especially the stuff that looks like it might have legal implications, folks. Write all the fan fiction you want; there are hundreds, if not thousands, of forums out there in which you can share your writing with thousands, if not millions, of appreciative fans. Go for it. But if you want to get paid for your writing, if you want to be a professional writer? You have to follow the professional rules.

Resolve

I talked in detail about my new year's resolution(s) over on my personal blog, last week. The writing and editing summary is that, well, every day is different, and every week is different, and making a resolution like, "I will write for at least one hour every day" or even, "I will write for at least three hours every week" is asking -- nay, begging -- for failure. Because sometimes, I just can't.

So, because I'm trying to train myself to plan to take time for myself, but without letting it disappear into mindless TV (or movie, or YouTube) watching, I'm making myself a productivity list every morning. The list starts with the day's caveats: whether I have the kids, whether I have social plans, how heavy my Day Job's workload is expected to be. And then I make a list of what I need to do to call it a productive day. Some of those items are for the Day Job, some are household chores, and some are for my personal and social life. And some are for writing and editing. What items go on a day's list depends on a lot of factors, but to borrow a phrase from one of the managers in my office -- they're the wolves closest to my sled. Because things tend to pop up throughout the day, I don't try to assign tasks for any day except today, because I never know what the priorities are going to be tomorrow -- but I keep a running list of possible tasks (and their due-dates, if they have any), and add them to each day's list as it seems reasonable.

And when I do tasks that I hadn't counted on doing, I add them to the bottom of the list. So far, they haven't interfered with my completing the original assigned list, but I can envision that as a possibility. The Day Job tends to be crisis-driven, to a certain extent.

The goal is not to fill every waking moment, but to get to the end of the day and look at the list and think, "Yes, this was a day that I did something worthwhile." Which is why social activities and reading are, in fact, valid productivity tasks.

So far, at least, it seems to be working. Monday, I did some editing, and also finished my first, very rough draft of a story. (And also worked a minor crisis with Brainsss that turned out, eventually, not to be quite as much of a crisis as expected, but we still had to re-generate all the e-book files, because the TOC was wrong. Again.) Yesterday, I did some more editing, and some editing administrivia. Today's plan is to tackle the slush pile, attempt a prompt fic for the project Lynn and I are doing*, and start working on a flyer to take with me to MarsCon.

And, I will note, I have spent some time on YouTube, but I don't think I've turned on the TV except for the kids in over a week.

And now, having slogged through that, let me reward you with a snippet from the story I finished drafting on Monday:

I fought to maintain my dignity, casting my thoughts for any topic of conversation that might bring him back to the grave but polite lover he had been during the feast. His hand was rising toward me; I could not predict its course, but knew that I must -- must! -- stave off his touch, or be, somehow, lost. "Why me?" I ejaculated.

His hand halted in its course, paused, and fell. His eyebrows raised, questioning, and I pressed onward. "Why not one of my elder sisters? You might have been prince-consort!"

That knowing smile lingered on his lips, and he shook his head. "I do not want to be a prince," he said softly, "or a duke, or an earl. I wanted..." Caught in his eyes, I had not noticed his hand moving again; he captured my hand and lifted it to his lips. Recalling the kiss with which he wed me, I shivered at his touch and barely suppressed a whimper of fear. But the brush of his lips over my knuckles was as soft as a rose petal, and I shivered again in relief.

He drew nearer still, until I could feel his breath ghosting across the bare skin of my neck. "I wanted you."

* Prompts! I almost forgot! Lynn and I are doing a prompt a week, each, from now until summer, which we hope to collect and publish. If you'd like to leave prompts for us, here or on my Facebook page, we will credit you when/if we get the collection published. (Lynn would like prompts to consist of one noun, one verb, one adjective, and 2 other words of your choice. I'm not nearly that picky; three or four words of any variety will do for me.)

Wednesday Update

I've done some writing this week, yay! But naturally, in the shower last night, I started to consider a complete revamp of Character #2's background, largely because I'm currently aimed straight into a plot that I have no idea how to resolve, and the revamp shifts the story from probable action/intrigue with a romantic element to a straight-up romance. I'm still debating whether to actually do it or if I should just keep plugging away at the story as it is and hope a solution to the current plot tangle presents itself.


Though really, how likely is that? Plot has always been my hobgoblin. Maybe I should just stick to writing pre-planned pieces for submission calls...

Untitled

Hey there! I've posted a snippet or two, so you know I've been working. I really need a title for my "mad science" story, since it's nearly finished (pretty much just the sex scene left to go) and nothing has presented itself as the obvious title yet.

I have a love-hate relationship with titles. Sometimes a title will leap out of nowhere and demand a story to go with it. My entire One Mind series, for example -- Of One Mind and "Of Sound Mind" you know about, but there's also State of Mind that's on the back burner, and Mind Over Matter which doesn't even have a real plot attached to it yet, just a character.

Sometimes I have a title in mind while I'm writing a story, but by the time I'm done with the writing, the title no longer works for the story. Safe Harbor began its life as A Tangled Web.

And way too much of the time, I have no idea what would make a good title for a story. Like this one. Anyone have any suggestions? Come on; I've got a mad scientist who's obsessed with a TV actor who plays a mad scientist. That's got to spark some ideas, right?

I didn't write last night -- it was Valentine's Day and I wanted to spend it with my sweetie -- so I don't have a snippet for you today. But I'm hoping to write tonight, so keep your eyes open!

Missed One!

Whoops, I missed out a snippet for you, didn't I? I did write on Monday night -- quite a lot, actually, at least for me. And then I wrote yesterday during the day, and I'd fully intended to write some more last night, but I had some dental work in the afternoon and by evening my face was too swollen and achey for me to even think about writing. Which made me grateful I'd written during the day -- I didn't have to write the whole day off as a loss.

But since I didn't give you a snippet from Monday, then I guess today you get two snippets. Lucky you! What I've been working on for the last couple of days is an as-yet unnamed contemporary about television and mad scientists.

"This actually looks like real science."

David looked pleased. "Well, some of them are, sort of. Joey said I could design the lab sets for the second half of the season, since my undergrad degree is in chemistry. He thought it would be a fun thing for the fans in the know to scrap together trivia about what kinds of experiments are in process. Maybe even throw in a few clues about the plot or something."

Carter shot David a look, his eyebrows raising. "Joey thought that?"

David blushed again. "Um. Well, he agreed when I said it might be fun and said if I wanted to do all the work, he wasn't going to stop me."

And a second one...

David's eyes were locked on Carter's, wide with emotion. "Wow," he breathed. "You're... I mean. This doesn't come through in interviews and stuff. This... passion. You're really intense."

"Sorry," Carter said. He looked aside, setting down the half-eaten noodles and trying to slow his breathing. "Yes. I can get a little--"

"Don't be sorry," David said. He reached across the space between them and put his hand on Carter's. Carter nearly expected an electric jolt, but David's hand was merely warm. "I like it."

That one's about halfway done, so I'm hoping I might manage to finish it by the end of the month. It's not due for a couple of months, though, so I've got some wiggle room. Feel free to speak up and let me know what you think!

Getting Back On Track

I've been letting a lot of things slide. Diet, exercise, writing, the Day Job... Whatever I could sweep under the rug was swept; whatever could be stuffed into a dark corner was stuffed; whatever elephants were left in the room had blankets thrown over them.

I'm sure that's no surprise to you, because you've been watching me wobble over here since the holidays with nothing (or practically nothing) to report. I don't know if I was burned out by the holidays, or just overcome with a wave of the Lazies, but I'm thinking it's time to get back on track.

So last night I sat down and wrote. Not a lot -- it's hard to get back into the flow -- but a good 600 words or so, a new opening for one of the stories on my WIP list. I realized about a week ago that the opening I had in place implied that we were going to come back to some of the problems presented there, and... it's not in the charts. Dude is going away and not going back, so we either need less of his Befores, or else we need a more final situation. So I'm re-writing it. Which is slightly frustrating, because it delays the part of the story I actually want to write, but also makes the plot of it easier, so it's one of those delayed gratification moments. I think. I hope.

The plan is to try to write at least three or four nights a week. That's about as much as I can plan for, because we're usually not even home on Friday and Saturday, and then I'm reserving Thursday for watching my TV shows. (The Hubs very generously agreed to save our jointly-watched shows so we can watch them all at once.) So Sunday through Wednesday? Writing. Or the editing/proofing gig, if I have a deadline looming. But mostly, hopefully, writing.

I think (and experience will back me up) that if I can stick to it, those nights will become more productive. I'll work my way back up over 1000 words a night. I'll stop stuttering over minor issues. I'll remember how to just tag research questions for future clarification instead of losing half an hour to looking stuff up. And maybe -- just maybe -- I'll actually finish some projects.

My intention, with this resolution, is to start posting little snippets here each morning after I've written. We'll see how well I can keep that up, but if nothing else, consider it a thanks and a return for your patience with my burnout these last couple of months.

So here you go, a little bit from last night's efforts:

Even when he'd had his secret unmasked, even standing before his father beaten and ashamed, he hadn't felt this vulnerable. There had been anger, then, as well as guilt, to sustain him. The sun there had warmed his skin as he stood in the pillory, had dried the dew that had formed during the night, even as his anger had dried the bitter tears he'd shed.

Stupid Awesomeness.

Argh. I was about a third of the way through my review/edit of Foxfur this past week when I thought, "Hey, the motivation for [action X] is really shaky and not very well explained. What if there was another force behind it? Like, an [antagonist B], working behind the scenes, who wants [motivation Y]! That would add another 15,000 words to the story, easy, and it would explain [action X] better, and it would let [protagonist B] actually do something big and useful, and then [antagonist B] could turn up in the sequel I've been head-working!"

Awesome!

The only downside is that, even setting aside my lackluster writing performance lately, there's no way I can get all that done before the end of the year. I'll be taking my iPad with me on our holiday trip to visit the Hubs' family, but I'm not expecting to have much time for writing while I'm there -- there maybe one or two quiet evenings, but mostly I expect to be too busy and (congruently) too tired to write.

And then when we get back, I'll be a) exhausted, and b) prepping for the combination Christmas/New Year's celebration with my family and our friends.

So I've got approximately one week before the "end" of the year, writing-wise. And given the way I've been turning into a pumpkin promptly at 10:30 lately, I just don't see managing another 15,000 words, minimum, in that time.

At least this isn't a story on contract, so it's not like I'm missing anyone's deadline but my own. And I'd have been right on target with it, too, if I hadn't had that Awesome Idea.

Last night, reading through the action climax (as opposed to the romantic climax, which follows it) (yes, my inner 14-year-old boy is giggling at the multiple climaxes) it was tempting to just say screw it, skip the Awesome Idea, and keep the story as-is, just so I can be done with it. Lynn and I have been talking about rewriting a story we wrote together about nine years ago, now that we're both published and have a better idea of what we're doing, and so ideas are pinging around in my head for how to approach that project. And I've had an anthology idea I want to consider and then pitch. And there's all the other projects and ideas I've got notes for, just waiting...

But it is an Awesome Idea, it will solve some problems and open some new doors, and I'm not on deadline, here. So I'll probably hold onto it. Wanting to dump it just to finish the story is stupid, it's just exhaustion talking. Once the holidays are through and I'm able to get back on a decent schedule, it should come a lot easier. So I'm thinking end of January, maybe mid-February, now? Heh. Of course. Because early spring is when I always submit my longer stuff.

Making It Happen

We're well into the insanity of the holidays, and it's taking a toll on my writing time. Last weekend, it seemed we had an Event of some sort going at every single minute -- and for those few minutes that weren't Events, I was trying to squeeze in some shopping or wrapping.

I have managed to add a solid 1500 words to Foxfur in the past week or so, though -- a pitiful word count, but I've only managed to get about a quarter of the way through. Knowing that I have at least one scene to add and plenty more fluffing and expanding to do makes me think I can get this to that 50,000 word limit without too much trouble.

And I think the worst of the craziness is actually done for the next couple of weeks. We still have Events on the calendar, but I'm almost done with the shopping and the crafting and the wrapping, so I think I can take a few deep breaths and try to get back into this review. My goal is still to have it ready for my betas by the new year. (Which would have me submitting to the publisher probably around early February? That seems to be my favorite time of year to toss things over the fence.)

One way or another, I'm going to make this happen.

Oh, and! It looks like "Assumption of Desire" is tentatively scheduled for release in March! I'll offer up more details when I have them, I promise!

Ebb and Flow

I had my day off from the Day Job yesterday, and so, as usual, I went to Panera, got a coffee mug and a bagel, and settled in to write. I was hoping to break 3000 words again.

Alas, I barely managed 1200. There isn't a lot of blame I can cast, though -- not even on myself. I just finished the story. I wrote the end, and I went back and wrote a fill-in scene that I'd planned. Both of those took longer than I'd expected, because I had to keep reading back to make sure I wasn't contradicting things I'd said earlier. And when I was done, it was after lunch and the story was mostly done. (I need to do a full read-through and write down my timeline, though, because I think I've muddled it once or twice.)

I sat down again last night to work on it, found another spot that could use some expansion, and wrote another 1000 words or so. But I'm definitely into the "reviewing for beta draft" stage and not still in the full-on "getting it out" phase of things, so progress is not going to be measured so much by word count anymore.

But here's my question: It's currently just shy of 40,000 words. 50,000 makes a (small) novel -- but I'm not close to that. I'd have to add a lot more to the story to make it novel-length. I might be able to manage that -- there are a few scenes that could be expanded, one or two new scenes I could write, and with dribs and drabs, I could probably beef it up.

But I'm not sure it needs it. I'm not sure it wants it. I'm not sure that beefing it up wouldn't make the story less robust, rather than more, even though that doesn't sound like it makes sense. And I'd hate to do it just because I want to be able to say I've got something in print, you know?

I think what I'll do is, I'll finish this edit-for-beta stage. Add the scenes that I think will add to the story and the structure. Make things clean. Make it a good story. And then see where I am with the word count. And then, probably, see what my betas think. (Speaking of which, I can always use more betas... anyone want the gig?)

Washout

Whoops, I almost forgot that it was Writing Wednesday! Partly, alas, because this past week was mostly a wash. My daughter was sick, and then just as she was getting better, my son caught it. It's hard to get my brain into a sexy, romantic place when I'm listening for someone to start puking. I'm a pretty open-minded person, but on the list of things that completely kills The Mood (both the sexy one and the writing one), it's a proximity to puke.

But on the plus side, having finished "Assumption of Desire," I decided to go back and re-read what I'd done on Foxfur before I got bored and disgusted and quit. I wanted to see if it was salvageable or if I should just scrap it and work on something else.

As it turned out, it was not only salvageable, but actually not too bad. I've got three major scenes I still need to write, and I noticed a whole host of minor editing quibbles I'll have to work through, but all in all, it's not a bad story. I think I just have a limited attention span for particular stories and need to take breaks from them from time to time.

So I'm back to working on Foxfur, and barring further mishap (*knocks on wood*) I think I might be able to squeak out the first draft before the end of the year, and be ready for beta review sometime in early January. That's the goal, at least.

And as it's already at 31,000 words, I'm considering whether I can manage to pad it out to actual novel length. It'd be nice to publish something I can actually hold in my hands. Well, we'll see where we are when the big gaps are closed.

Flash Bang

Last Thursday, I had lunch with several good friends, one of whom was Lynn, a fellow writer. While we were chatting, she mentioned that an editor friend of hers had mentioned that she was sorely lacking in submissions for an anthology call and that if Lynn had any other pieces to submit, or writer friends who had pieces to submit, for her to please consider it.

It wasn't my usual thing, being hetero and contemporary with a military theme, but the length requirement was pretty short (less than 4500 words) and I'd just finished the first draft of the other WIP and needed something to redirect my brain a little so I can go back to it with a fresh eye. So I had her send me the link and I checked the requirements and let it stew in my brain overnight.

The next morning was the first day I'd had at the Day Job in a good while where I had any kind of time to breathe, so I sat down to write up a Flash Fic that Lynn had given me the prompts for a while back. And since I'd been mulling over this hetero/contemporary/military theme for a while, that was the direction my brain went when I threw Lynn's prompt words into the mix. I wrote. And I wrote. And I wrote.

When I looked up, I had over 800 words and I still wasn't at a stopping point. And I still hadn't posted the fic. So I backed up, made a few changes to tie it off at about 500 words for the flash post, and posted it. And then I kept writing. And writing. And writing.

By the time I went to bed that night, I'd dropped 3000 words and brought it to enough of a conclusion to call it a rough draft. I slept on it, and when I got up the next day, decided that the touch of melodrama I'd added was a little too much melodrama, and that a 3000 word story really didn't need that much drama. It was like putting six tablespoons of ginger into a pumpkin pie (long story, but trust me: way too much). As long as I was going to write against my usual type, I might as well go way against type and make it something light and fluffy and sweet.

So I backed out the melodrama and re-wrote that bit of the scene and by the time I was done, it was 3300 words and I had a beta draft.

I sent it to Lynn Saturday night for the "fastest possible" review, since her editor friend wanted stories fastnowplease. Lynn read it Saturday night and then again Sunday morning and sent me two bits of advice (one word-repetition that jumped out at her as jarring, and an anatomical impossibility, or at least unlikelihood). I fixed those, did one last quick read-through, then re-formatted everything the way the submission call wanted it (I can not write in a double-spaced document) and submitted it.

BAM.

Three days from hearing about the submission call to submitting the story. Definitely the fastest turn-around I've ever done. It's definitely not my usual kind of story, being a contemporary and sorely lacking in angst, and part of me feels like its sweet and fluffy tone makes it too generic to make the cut for the anthology. But, well, it's probably not a submission call I would have answered if Lynn hadn't told me her editor friend was pressed, and it did do its (to me) primary job of clearing the previous story out of my head so I can come back to it fresh. At worst, Lynn's friend now has a light, fluffy piece to kick to the curb if some better stories come in. At best, it can serve as a sorbet course in the anthology, to put some distance between pieces with more emotional weight.

It would, I have to admit, be really, really cool to see my name in actual print.

I'll let y'all know if anything comes of it.

Back on the Wagon

I did not write while I was on vacation. (Well, I took notes of the things we did and such, but I didn't write anything that was related to anything I'm going to try to publish.)

I did not write while we were living the simple life when Hurricane Irene knocked out our power for five days, largely because we coped with having no power by spending as much time as possible hanging out with friends.

I started reading through the primary WIP last week after our power came back, but it was taking a long time, because I really wasn't liking it that much, so I kept finding better things to do. Like sleep. So I didn't really write last week, either, except for the "flash fic"s that Lynn and I traded (mine is here, and hers is here, if you missed them.)

But Monday was Labor Day, and the Daughter went back to school yesterday, and I declared that it was High Time for me to get back on the several wagons that I'd fallen off over the past few weeks. Time to start eating healthy again. Time to go back to the gym. Time to knuckle under and get my work schedule and to-do lists in order. Time to get back to writing.

So last night after we got the kids to bed, I settled in my chair in the bedroom and picked up where I'd left off with the WIP. And happiness! I didn't hate it. Once the action starts actioning, it's really pretty good. Which means I certainly do not need to throw the whole thing out the window, as I've been moaning I would do for the last week. What I need to do is find a way to compress the entirely-too-expositiony first half and/or add some action to break up all the talky.

So yay for that!

Oh, hey, in the meantime! One of the things on my to-do list is planning for a day-trip to Roanoke in a couple of weeks for the Pride in the Park event. I'll be meeting up with a couple of fellow authors and/or editors to man a table for Torquere and hand out promotional material. If you live anywhere near Roanoke, consider coming to the event and checking us out! (More information when/if I get it!)

The Bohemian Life

I think we all know that I'm not a full-time writer. I'd like to be, someday, but I expect that will be in another twenty-five years, when the kids are grown and on their own and the house is paid for and, most tellingly, I'm old enough to retire from the Day Job. Then, I'll convert one of the kids' old bedrooms into an office for myself and write every day.

That's the dream, anyway. But thanks to a convergence of factors, it does look like I'm going to be able to have a taste of the writing life soon. I've set the wheels in motion and am just waiting on the bureaucracy to catch up, but when it does, I'll be working only part time at the Day Job.

It's not a drastic rearrangement, by any stretch -- I'll essentially be taking one day off every two weeks. But the plan is to ensure that at least half of that day will be devoted to writing. I did this just a couple of weeks ago -- dropped the kids off at daycare and summer camp, and then I went to our local Panera and bought a bottomless cup of coffee and a scone (I love me some strawberry scones) and I staked out one of the comfy chairs, propped the iPad on my lap, and wrote for three and a half hours. I paused to refill my coffee and have a wonderful conversation with a nearby woman who had a book I was familiar with, but mostly... I wrote.

It sounds like a cliche, I know. The bohemian lifestyle. And it kind of was, but also? It was a slice of heaven. A perfect day all the way around, really, because after I wrote, I met the Hubs for lunch and then we went to see a movie together. But honestly, spending my morning tapping out a few scenes for a current WIP was quite probably the highlight of the day. And I wanted more. I wanted to do it again.

And I will. Those days off, the mornings will be for writing. I may meet the Hubs or friends for lunch, and I may choose to go back to writing afterward or I may go to the movies or run errands or go to the gym or go home and try to make a dent in the mess or actually cook dinners that take more than twenty minutes to assemble... The real world will probably intrude on those afternoons, is what I'm saying. And that's fine, because I do tend to get burned out and need a mental recharge after three or four hours of writing.

It doesn't sound like very much, I know. Only two days a month. Not even full days -- just half-days, really, most of the time. But it's two days a month more than I have now. It's two days, bought and paid for, that I don't have to feel guilty for taking.

And those two days, they'll belong to me and my iPad and a bottomless cup of coffee... and the words.