Jack Tales: The Art Lover

Last month, I introduced Jack, my new writing buddy, who also happens to be the orneriest cat on the block.

Yesterday evening, as I was rolling towels and socks from the laundry basket, Jack decided to make himself at home among the piles of clean laundry. Cats, he once told me, only like clean laundry. They refuse to lay among dirty laundry, because later, when they bathe, they will be licking human toe funk, which, believe it or not, doesn't taste as nice as tuna fish.

In a short while I looked over and saw him hiding under a towel. Luckily this towel is not used in my kitchen. So instead of scolding him, I asked him, "Jack, what in the world are you doing?"

He said, "Can't you tell? I'm reenacting La Primavera, and I'm quite good at it, thank you very much."

Jack as La Primavera

La Primavera, by Sandro Botticelli, 1481-82, detail.

"My Writing Process" Blog Tour

When I try to talk to friends and family about my writing, a curious frown often develops on their faces and they ask, “How do you do that? How do you come up with your ideas? How can you sit still that long?”

The Writing Process Blog Tour is where we get to answer some of those questions. A huge thanks to YA Fantasy author Lisa M. Green for inviting me to take part in this tour! Check out her response to the questions on her gorgeous blog.

So it’s confession time. What exactly goes on behind those closed doors to produce … *hand flourish* … magic?

What am I working on?

Currently, I’m trying to strategize a war and puzzle out how to defeat an army of flesh-eating ogres. Book 3 of the Falcons Saga is underway. Fury of the Falcon will conclude the adventures of my Ilswythe twins. That’s not to say that Fury is the last readers will see of the characters, however. Just that the focus will shift to someone else in upcoming adventures. So, while “the ogres go munching two by two,” I’m also weaving in details to set the stage for those later adventures.

How does my work differ from others of its genre?

The characters, definitely. My fiction is hard-core character-driven, rather than quest-driven. Readers may discover epic battles and hunts for stolen children, but it's what happens inside the characters and in their relationships with each other that drive the story forward. In truth, when readers pick up copies of the Falcons Saga, they will find many elements common in traditional fantasy, from the races they will encounter to the magic system. However! My ultimate goal is to make my characters so real to readers that they will feel a lingering void when they’ve been away from them for too long.

Why do I write what I do?

*Shrug* That’s a matter of practicality, I suppose--if writing fiction can be called ‘practical.’ I started out wanting to write historical adventure. But at the time, the internet was in its infancy, and in my house we did not have a computer or internet access. Libraries that featured research material weren’t near at hand. So the short of it is that I felt frustrated in acquiring the information I needed to write authentic historical stories. So it just made sense to start making up my own worlds where I knew the history, the laws, the culture, etc. Suddenly I felt confident in what I wrote, so I stuck with fantasy.

How does my writing process work?

Groaningly. That’s how. By 11:30 a.m, I had better be sitting at my writing desk with a mugga joe in my hand, or I start to get a little peevish. With my first cup of coffee comes the pleasant task of re-reading what I wrote the day before, making changes, big or small. Then, with the second cup of coffee starts the mental anguish of writing new material. I despise writing the first draft of most everything. All the words want out at once, and most of them aren’t even the right words. The brain becomes a bottleneck, and the fingers on the keyboard start twiddling, saying “Ho-hum, is there anything up there? We’re waiting.” So I pace my house, or I say my mantra, “It’s a rough draft, just write it,” or I go pull some weeds or chase a cat out of the house or sweep my floor. I’ve found that sweeping is the best exercise for finding the next phrase. Why did I leave the broom lingering in that doorway? Because that’s where the muse decided to show up and cooperate.

Some days the words flow. Some days they don’t. Magic is hard to come by.

So there’s a peek behind the glittery door of writerhood. It might be best to back away slowly.

Next week, on Monday, March 24th, take a gander at the writing habits and quirks of these writers. I’m honored to present to you:

Brian Fatah Steele is co-founder of Dark Red Press and horror author of Brutal Starlight, In Bleed Country, and many other gruesome and thrilling tales. 

CL Stegall, co-founder of Dark Red Press, is the author of the Urban Fantasy novel The Blood of Others, as well as the YA adventure The Weight of Night.

Fury of the Falcon, Progress Report #2

It feels wonderful when I'm writing a chapter a week. I can tell it's still early in the game.

RECENT PROGRESS

Chapter: 4
Pages Revised: 5
Became: 9.5 pages
New Scenes: 0
Death count: 1, a tree 
Good things that happen:  Picking up the pieces...
Bad things that happen: Carah and Thorn butt heads. Again.

Next week, I'll be participating in the "Writing Process" Blog Tour. Stay tuned for a glimpse of what really happens behind this writer's closed door.

Meet Jack, my new writing buddy!

Last July I posted about the death of my darling companion, Raphael, getting all sappy and stuff. Well, it's amazing how I still miss that little guy. My last statement in that blog post was that I wouldn't be replacing him any time soon. It's amazing how life makes a liar of you.

One day in mid-October we were minding our own business, enjoying breakfast and the cooler weather on the back patio when all of a sudden we heard the heart-wrenching yowling of a cat in panic. It was coming from the creek that divides our backyard into usable space and non-usable forest. In my head I envisioned this poor creature trapped under some fallen logs, on the verge of drowning. I put on my wellies and slogged out into the water.

As it turned out, this panicked cat was stuck on top of the logs, likely chased there by the evil tom that prowls the neighborhood. But as we also have other cats, this poor vagrant was likely scared to venture into our backyard as well, lest he lose an eye or two.

When I finally got a good look at him, I saw that he was orange and only half-grown. Thank God he's orange, I thought. I don't keep orange cats.

Right? Yeah...

So my husband and I rescued this terrified animal and set his paws on solid ground, and said, "Beat it!" But the cat promptly glued himself to our feet. We tried walking him through the neighborhood, hoping someone would recognize him. We discussed shelters and pounds and other methods of being rid of him. We decided, well, we won't feed him and we'll go inside and he'll wander off and go home.

Why do cats fall out of the blue and decide to adopt me? They detect a sucker, that's why.

Come late afternoon, we found that the cat was right back up on the logs from whence we "rescued" him, and he was yowling so loudly that we could hear him inside the house, 40 yards away. Okay, I say, I'll feed him, but I'm not naming him, and if he doesn't shut up, I'll deliver him to the nearest shelter. This cat was so desperate and scared, he kept meowing even while he ate. Non-stop noise. I said, this cat is crazy, there's no way we're keeping him.

And then I did something really stupid. I said, "His eyes look like pumpkins. If he were a girl we could call him Pumpkin, but since he's not, we'll call him Jack." That was fitting, right? It was almost Halloween and it was Jack o' lantern-carving time. My husband looked at me and said with a smirk, "You just named him." I ducked my head and said a swear word. How could I be so stupid? Oh, yeah. Sucker, right.

So Jack became a new member of the family, and all he wants to do is lay on my lap or curl up on  my shoulder, even though he's getting way too big for that now. So, today Jack said, "You haven't blogged about me, snob." So here he is, in all his orange orneriness:

Jack said he doesn't want anyone to see how he picks his nose and don't publish that picture or he'll pee on my bed, but it's a parent's prerogative to embarrass their children, right?

This portrait, however, is Jack-approved.

Fury of the Falcon, Progress Report #1

Well, anyone who has visited my Facebook page has seen that rewrites on Fury of the Falcon have begun, but for some reason I neglected to update my blog about it. Getting back into the routine of writing has been difficult. Actually feels like learning a drive a new car. The peddles don't feel natural under my feet. Stop, start, lurch forward, hit the break. Eesh.

But as of yesterday, chapter 3 is underway, and things are a bloody mess. For the characters, I mean. Sons ended on dark, negative notes, as a middle book should, and now my twins are scrambling to pick up the pieces. But I refuse to give spoilers.

The most difficult part of starting this book, for me, is trying to decide how much back info to provide, as reminders of what happened in Sons. I shouldn't expect readers to remember the small details, but I don't want to insult their intelligence and hand-feed them stuff they are sure to remember. How do the pros handle this sort of thing? Of course, I picked up a book by my favorite author to compare methods. GRRM's A Feast For Crows picks up only moments after A Storm of Swords ends, or even backtracks a bit in the case of some characters. I started with the first Cersei chapter and read it critically, looking for those reminders, and looking for what George did not include. He didn't bother describing characters he'd described in Storm. Only the beaten gold of Cersei's hair and the color of cloaks. Of course the color of cloaks. That's vintage George. But there were other hints he had included that prompted me to go back into my opening chapters and add a few more tidbits. But all the while, the Cersei chapter pointed forward, as the characters begin a search for a murderer and as Cersei plots her next move against her rivals. Hopefully, I can learn something here and apply the method to my own chapters.

It's a fine balance, and I'm not sure I've achieved it yet, but we'll see. Thank God for revisions.

RECENT PROGRESS
Chapter(s): 1-3
Pages Revised: 3
Became: 7 pages
New Scenes: 1
Death count: 1 
Good things that happen:  A great cleansing begins
Bad things that happen: captives suffer the lash and a long journey into the unknown

Giveaway! SPARKS by RS McCoy (A Bearded Scribe Blog Tour)

Choose One Amazon|Kindle

Blurb:

"Everyone in the world has a spark, a light inside that guides them, keeps them alive.”

Myxini School for Children specializes in training young men and women who have powerful sparks. Strikers are taught to manipulate fire. Trackers learn to find animals in the most formidable terrains. Handlers are instructed in communication with large predators. But forty years have passed since the last time they had a Reader—a student with the ability to read minds.

When Lark Davies enrolls at Myxini, he knows there aren’t many like him, but he doesn’t realize just how rare his abilities really are. He thinks nothing of being asked to keep his spark a secret; after all, he can barely control it. Thoughts and emotions flood unbidden into his mind until he can scarcely walk or hold a conversation. But just when he needs it most, his ability fails him.

Lark meets Khea, a small frightened girl who mysteriously insights his protective nature. He has no explanation for the curious strength of their relationship, and it doesn’t help that she is one of the few people in the world whose thoughts can’t be read. As he struggles to get to the root of their unique bond, Lark begins to unravel more power than even his mentor expected, but in the process makes himself a target to political leaders eager to take control.

Teaser:

Wearing only my loose brown pants, I crawled into the most comfortable bed I had ever known and sank into the soft down pillows. I had just started to drift off when I heard a knock at the door. I’m going to kill Avis.

“What do you—” I started until I realized it wasn’t Avis. It was a stunning blonde with blue eyes. Khea.

“I’m sorry to wake you. I just—I had to see you.” Her arms moved to wrap around my waist and hold me tight as I questioned if I was really sleeping or not.

“Uh, do you want to come in?” We both knew the rules about being in someone else’s
room after hours, so I pulled her in and sat down on the edge of the bed, still a little surprised she was there.

In the dim light her hair looked a little darker, but her face was still sweet and there was no denying that the last two years had done her well. Who would have thought such a beautiful young woman would come from that skinny little girl in Lagodon?

“How’d you know I was back?” I asked her, trying to appear less tired or shocked than I was.

“A friend told me.”

“I didn’t think you—” Cared? It wasn’t the right word, but I was beyond amazed that she was interested in my whereabouts. I hadn’t seen her since that night at the Moonwater and it had changed everything for me since then. But for her, I wasn’t aware that she had been affected in any way.

“Ride with me tomorrow?”

“Uh, yea, of course.” It was a struggle to cover how little I wanted to wait. I would have given anything to have her stay.

A wide smile erupted across her sweet lips as she said, “meet me at the lake at noon.” With a lingering kiss on my cheek, she walked back through the door and disappeared into the dark stone corridor.

What just happened?

I hadn’t seen her in person in years, and we were hardly close before that. And now she arrived in my room in the middle of the night and kissed me on the cheek. Was it a kiss like a friend would give another? Or more? I couldn’t make any sense of it, but there was only thing I was sure of. I would be at the lake at noon if it was the last thing I did.

Praise for Sparks:

"...spellbinding..."

                "...fantastic characters..."

                                       "...imaginative and creative..."

                                                                    "...simply could not put it down..."

About the Author:

RS McCoy didn’t ever plan on being a writer. With a career teaching high school science, writing is the last thing she expected. But life never goes the way you think it will. 

While battling cancer, she picked up her laptop and let the words flow out. One year later, her first published fantasy novel has been released on Amazon and her second novel is in the works. 

She is a wife, mother of one with another on the way, a scientist, baker, gardener, and life-long science fiction and fantasy addict.

Connect with RS McCoy

Blog Tour Giveaway

Five (5) Digital Copies of RS McCoy's debut novel, Sparks.

Ends 01/14/14

Open only to those who can legally enter. Winning Entry will be verified prior to prize being awarded. No purchase necessary. You must be 18 or older to enter or have your parent enter for you. The winner will be chosen by rafflecopter and announced here as well as emailed and will have 48 hours to respond or a new winner will be chosen. This giveaway is in no way associated with Facebook, Twitter, Rafflecopter or any other entity unless otherwise specified. The number of eligible entries received determines the odds of winning. Giveaway was organized by "A Bearded Scribe Blog Tours," a division of The Bearded Scribe and sponsored by the author. VOID WHERE PROHIBITED BY LAW.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Review: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Includes minor spoilers (or almost-spoilers).

Blurb:

"It is 1939. Nazi Germany. The country is holding its breath. Death has never been busier, and will become busier still.

"Liesel Meminger is a foster girl living outside of Munich, who scratches out a meager existence for herself by stealing when she encounters something she can't resist--books. With the help of her accordion-playing foster father, she learns to read and shares her stolen books with her neighbors during bombing raids as well as with the Jewish man hidden in her basement."

Review:

An unforgettable experience. Unique in so many ways. It's been a while since I've read a book that I did not want to put down, that I set aside whole afternoons to devour.

*** Newsflash ***

This book will earn 5 of 5 magic wands.

No surprise there, given my preamble. At LegendFire, we writers discuss books. What else does one do at a writing forum? Over the past few years the title The Book Thief kept cropping up. I was like, yeah, but I've never heard of Markus Zusak, and because I'm one of those scaredy-cats who rarely ventures out of her comfort zone, I didn't bother looking for the book.

Until this autumn.

*** A Lesson Learned ***

Reach out, take a chance,

pull the book off the shelf,

experience something new

and extraordinary.

I finally told myself, "Self, you have got to expand your horizons. Go to the bookstore and pick out several books by authors you've never read before." Zusak was the first author I reached for. When I read the first couple of pages and discovered who our narrator was going to be for the long haul, I rolled my eyes. "How gimmicky," I said. Yes, I said it aloud. My fear was that the book was going to be cheesy, an author trying too hard to tell an old story in a new way, and I wondered if I would be able to stick with it.

*** A gimmick ***

Death himself is the narrator.

I'm always ecstatic when my fears are proved to be unfounded. It was Zusak's startling, poetic writing style (I learned new ways to use verbs, for one) and the glimpses of our young book thief that kept me reading for the next few pages. And soon even the narrator won me over. Death is troubled by humanity. How can humans be so beautiful and so horrendous, so good to one another and so cruel? How can they keep getting up when their wounds are so deep? He is tired of war; he is tired of plucking souls from bombed-out basements and battlefields. But every once in a while he crosses paths with a human who gives him hope. One such person is the book thief. Their paths cross too many times during the early years of World War II, and every time, the book thief is able to distract Death from his tiresome and disheartening duty.

Eventually, it becomes clear that Death's struggle to understand humanity, his desperate and jaded search for some redeeming qualities are as much a part of the story as the book thief's struggle to learn how to read, her discovery of the detrimental power of words, the saving power of words, and her friendship with the Jew hiding in her basement.

Conclusion:

I could go on and on about what makes this book memorable, but short and sweet is best these days. If you can stand a heartbreaking story, grab a copy, grab the box of tissues, and settle in for a remarkable journey.

Obviously, others thought the same. The movie version was released this year. I suppose I shall add it to my to-watch list. Geoffrey Rush and Emily Watson among the cast? Yep, I'm sold.

Rating:

5 of 5 magic wands, as was foreshadowed...

*** An apology ***

For stealing Death's narrative inserts for this review

and reviewing a book that is several years old.

Comfort zones cause one to miss out.

Next up, something new:

The Valley of Amazement

by Amy Tan. Stay tuned...