Baby Stories

Well, if any of you are still following my blog, I am humbled extremely, because I have been a Very Bad Blogger. :(

I do have an excuse, though. My baby arrived on July 6, in a wild crazy Hollywood-style delivery. He (yes, it's a boy!) also brought quite a surprise with him. If you'd like to find out the details, the birth story is here: http://misadventuresandmiscellany.blogspot.com/2011/07/baby-is-born.html and the story of the surprise is here: http://misadventuresandmiscellany.blogspot.com/2011/07/our-super-special-boy.html

I promise to try to find time to blog HERE again soon!

Sandbox Link: Harold Camping

Everyone's laughing at Harold Camping, but has anyone considered this angle of the latest and greatest End of the World prophecy?

http://misadventuresandmiscellany.blogspot.com/2011/05/oh-irony.html

Stinky Feet: What You Can Learn From Your Character's Shoes

Have you stepped into your character's shoes lately? Have you literally jumped feet-first into an intimate, probably odiferous detail of your character's life?

No? Well, grab a clothespin and some clean socks and prepare to be amazed at how much you can learn from a pair of shoes.

Ready? Okay, open your character's closet and ease your feet into your character's shoes, the ones they wear every day. Are they too big? too small? Let's say you're a woman, size eight, and your character is a woman, size seven. Too small, but never mind, for this exercise they magically fit.

What kind of shoes are they? Flats or heels? (Flats.) Flip-slops, sneakers, or slides? (Elegant leather slides.) Interesting. Go deeper. Sink your feet into the soles. Are they new and stiff, or comfortably worn? (Stiff, hard, and so new they hurt.) So appearance matters to your character, at the expense of comfort.

Now take a peek around the closet. Are the other shoes similar? You're puzzled: all the other shoes are casual ones, well-worn and comfy. Why has your character suddenly started wearing something different?

Kick the left shoe off now, and raise it to your nose. Yes, go on! Ugh. Sulphur and onions! So she's got smelly feet. What's that white poof of powder? Baking soda. So she's aware of the odor enough to do something about it. Why? Does she work somewhere where the occasional whiff of Foot is not acceptable? Is she dating someone, and eager not to offend? Or is she simply very conscious of herself? Is this self-consciousness why she started wearing these shoes in the first place?

There's nail polish on the edge of the shoe. Glittery silver. An unusual color. What made her choose this?

You're curious now. Step out of the shoes, and wait, invisible, as your character comes into the room and steps into them herself. Now, with the magic power of an author, enter your character. Become her, as she stands in those shoes.

Feel how her heelbones crunch against the hard soles of the slides. She's tired and discouraged. Her heels are itchy from the pumice rub she just gave them in the shower. She scuffs one against the toe of her other foot. A flake of polish chips off her toenail. Angrily, she bends over to yank at the loose flap.

You sense someone made fun of the color. A boyfriend?

“Dear mother-in-law.” An angry grunt as the polish is removed. “I can't keep anything of my own, can I? Not even this.”

Wow! Were you expecting that? I wasn't. I thought she was dating, and eager to impress that Perfect Someone. Instead, she's making an abnormal effort to please her mother-in-law, of all people. Why is the older woman's opinion so important? What does that say about Ms. X's marriage? Something's strange here, and obviously, it's crucial to the character.

See how much you can learn from sticking your feet into someone else's shoes? You can do this with clothes too, but for me, shoes work best: both men and women tend to individualize more with shoes than clothing. This is probably the single best way I know for getting to the sole of your character (pardon the pun: couldn't resist) and finding out what makes them tick. It works fantastically for exploring a new character, but try it on your tried-and-true standbys, as well. If you don't know how it feels to stand in your character's shoes, then you don't know your character as well as you should. Maybe none of what you learn will ever fit into your Epic Work, but the details you learn will change how you see your characters, and will give them depth they never had before.

Just...make sure you have a clothespin. Some of the details you turn up might be a little - smelly?

New blog!

As most of you know I've been debating about whether to make this blog personal as well as writing-themed. After poking it with a stick, hanging upside down to examine it from all angles, and running it through a chemical test, I decided the idea was a bad one.

Problem was, in between a new life in Florida, an ever-increasing snarky view of the world, and out-of-control pregnancy hormones, I still have a lot to say. So, I started a new blog, where I can randomize to my heart's content. (http://misadventuresandmiscellany.blogspot.com/) If you're interested in my rambles, go ahead and take a peek, but if you only stop by here to read about WRITING, then rejoice! This blog's word-themed purity is back. :)

Author Interview: Linda Yezak

It's Author Interview time! Yay! Getting to share cool conversations with amazing and interesting people is my favorite part of blogging.

Today I get to interview Linda Yezak, who just published her first novel Give the Lady a Ride. Linda Yezak resides in the state of Texas, where tall tales abound and exaggeration is an art form. She lives in the heart of a forest with her husband, three cats, four ducks, and a pond full of fish. Aside from being a member of Women Writing the West (WWW) and The Christian PEN, she is a proud member of American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). Her debut novel, Give the Lady a Ride, was a finalist in the 2009 ACFW Genesis contest, and her work-in-progress, The Cat Lady's Secret, was a finalist in 2010. A self-described nut, she says, "I keep both feet candy-coated, because there's no telling when one or both will land in my mouth."

Candy flavor of choice? "Peppermint. Chocolate melts too fast."

Nina: Welcome to Notes From The Front, Linda! Tell us about yourself!

Linda: How I wish I could whip out some wonderful stories about how fascinating I am, but there isn’t much to tell. I’m a wife, step-mother, grandmother, with a degree in English and a grad certificate in paralegal studies, and now I’m a published author. Although I’m not physically capable of much anymore, I’m game for anything. I love fishing and hunting, canning and cooking, horses and cattle, needlework and baseball. My interests are eclectic. If I were younger, and away from all those who once told me not to, I’d add sky diver and barrel racer or show-horse jumper to the list. Oh well, c’est la vie!

Nina: Give the Lady a Ride is your first published novel. How does it feel to have a book in print?

Linda: Like a ride in a hot air balloon. In the weeks before the debut, I was scrambling to get everything prepped. Attach the flat balloon to the carrier basket, hook up the gas for the burner–or in writer’s terms, get my debut activities lined up, announcements printed and cyber-announcements posted, parties planned, guest pieces and interviews written.

The morning of the debut, I shot heat into the balloon in a glorious sunrise fire-up. Or for me, before sunrise. I was so excited I got up two hours before the sun even thought about climbing over the horizon.

As the day went on, my balloon sailed through the sky, fired by every encouraging comment and congratulatory remark.

And it’s still flying!

Nina: What is your favorite scene from Ride? What makes you like it?

Linda: There are so many it’s hard to choose, but I think my favorite comes near the end, and surprisingly doesn’t involve the hero, but one of the other ranch hands. Throughout the book, a character named “Frank” provides fatherly wisdom to the hero, Talon, about Patricia, but at the end, he shares his wisdom with Patricia too. I’m not going to reveal the scene here, but “cowboy logic” is the perfect term to explain what Frank has to say about Patricia’s ride!

The scene really revealed Frank’s character to me, and I just fell in love with him. I’m going to tell you a secret, because I’m not sure whether I’ll actually write a sequel to Ride, but I started one, and Frank is the hero of that book. I hope everyone comes to love him as much as I do, because if I do write the sequel, I’ll be presenting more of his cowboy logic. (Nina: Sequel about Frank? Oh yes yes!)

Nina: One of the hottest topics in Christian writing right now is how to weave faith into a novel without becoming preachy. I really like the practical down-to-earth cowboy faith you wove into Ride. Was it difficult to decide how much religion to put in the book?

Linda: Yes. Oh, yes. But I’ve never written anything that didn’t reflect my love for my Savior. Even in grad school, for my final grade in my criminal law class, I wrote about the Hebraic penal code (got an A too!).

Aside from worrying about how much religion to include, I also worried about religious views. I want to appeal to a broad audience, but Christians hold diverse beliefs on so many topics. Whether a new convert is sprinkled or submerged for baptism, whether dancing is allowed among the members, and so on. These topics can spark heated debates among the family of Christ.

With the folks in a cowboy church though, submerging is preferred and dancing is fine. Since my hero is a member of a such a church, I hope readers with different beliefs will forgive me if I’ve written things they don’t practice themselves.

Nina: Tell us about other projects you have simmering. Do you have a new novel on the drawing board?

Linda: Of course, I do! The Cat Lady’s Secret is about three quarters done, and I can’t wait until I can get back to it! I’m still working on the elevator pitch, but it goes something like this: Carrying a fish net as she walks around town, Millie is on a mission to catch and rescue feral cats. As she hunts, she learns of people's needs and wishes--and all these are fulfilled. But what will happen to the town's benefactor if the journalist dogging her trail reveals her identity?

Nina: Thanks so much for coming! As a wrap-up will you give us a teaser from the book?

Linda: Patricia felt her vertebrae jar each time she pounded on Tandy’s bare back. It took all her will power not to hold on with both hands . . . Cowgirl? She didn’t think so.

Questions, Questions!

Spring comes. The snow melts. The birds sing. Rain is followed by the promise of sun. And my curiosity, tingled out of winter dormancy, is busy asking questions.

So! This blog post will be about YOU, not me. I’ll ask the questions, you’ll answer them. Then I’ll post again, this time with a compilation of your comments, and my own. Please spring right in, let your ideas scatter like rain, and your creativity bloom!

What season of the year are you most creative as a writer?

Do you generally find books, movies, or music to be more inspiring! (List examples!)

Is Absolute Quiet a must for you while writing, or do you work better with background noise?

Everyone has things they care about deeply, and much of the time, these fuel our writing, whether subtly or directly. What makes your heart leap and your blood boil – and have you put this into your creations?

What part of writing do you hate most? (everyone hates something!)

Name a few favorite words and/or phrases.

Would you say writing engages your mind or your body more?

There’s nothing in the world to compare with finding that perfect turn of word or phrase. Tell us about the latest one you found.

And finally – what project are you working on right now?

Favorite Fictional Romance?

Assignment: Come up with a Valentine-themed blog post! Result: one author with a headache!

Don't get me wrong. I love romance in real life. But I'm not the biggest fan of romance writing. And usually, when I do like a novel with romance, it’s a dysfunctional romance that may or may not end well. Not appropriate for Valentine’s Day! However, my all-time favorite fictional romantic couple do get together. Most of you have read or at least heard of them: Dorothy Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane.

I love Lord Peter and Harriet’s relationship. They originally meet with Harriet on trial for her life, accused of murdering her fiancée. Lord Peter sees her in court, is immediately attracted, and sets about proving her innocence, in the course of which he manages to fall in love with her.

Harriet, on the other hand, not only has sworn off any romantic relationships, but because Peter saves her life, her (very British) pride won’t allow her to care for Peter back. Thus begins a famous literary chase which spans several novels as Peter doggedly pursues Harriet (and the occasional criminal), eventually becoming successful in Gaudy Night.

I love Peter and Harriet’s relationship. Probably the most obvious reason is Sayer’s brilliant characterization. In Peter and Harriet she pairs two extremely intelligent, independent, proud and reserved people who on first glance are clashing opposites. Sayer also succeeds in creating two equally interesting characters. Contrary to most romantic stories, where if one character evaporated the story would flop, Peter and Harriet are equally fascinating.

Then there’s the dialogue and scenarios, which range from hysterically comedic to thoughtfully poignant. In scene after scene Harriet and Peter spar with subtle wit, making every interchange great fun to read.

And finally, there’s the romance. It’s not overt. It’s very British, very subtle. And yet Sayers manages to explore the ins and outs of every romantic relationship. She shows the darkness and the light that enters into any couple’s lives, and she challenges the conventions of typical romance. In short – her brilliance in literary romance is a constant inspiration. I’ll never be that good, but I’ll definitely try!

Who’s your favorite fictional romantic couple? Why do you like them?

Writing As Therapy?

How many of you have used writing as a form of therapy?

My guess is 99% of you raised a hand and said "I". The use of writing as a means of channeling grief, depression, or other emotions is amazingly widespread. Most contemporary authors admit freely to using writing as therapy. A few bold ones manage to turn therapy into glossy-covered bestsellers, but for the most part, those scribbles stay buried in some obscure drawer or cached in a remote corner of cyberspace.

Authors are not the only ones who use writing for therapy. Ever since the ability to write became common, people who experience traumatic events often find solace by writing. Whether it be a war, natural disaster, or simply the death of a loved one, the result is the same. Ordinary people who have never written before pick up a pencil and begin.

The poems of the first and second World Wars have been a fascination of mine for years. Our written record of these wars is vast - some of the greatest writers of the century detailed every event as it happened. More intriguing to me, though, are the thousands of poems and short stories written by soldiers and their loved ones. Many are anonymous. Most were never intended for public view. Few are written according to good writing standards. Yet they're filled with humor, pathos, resignation, bravery...

All the histories written about the wars record what happened to people. The poems and stories record who those people were.

What is it about writing that helps people deal with grief, anger, and frustration? For myself, it allows me to see things clearly. When I'm upset my emotions tangle into a knotted mess that would traumatize a psychoanalyst. I can't understand myself! Always I end up with a chewed-off pen and a scrap of paper, scribbling down verse, scraps of ideas, fragments of sentences. I allow myself to spill over onto the paper, not holding anything back.

Hours later, relieved somewhat by the "public privacy" of expression on paper, I read through the jottings. And an odd thing happens. What made no sense in my mind gradually takes form before me. I can isolate the problem, figure out the cause, approximate a solution. Perhaps most valuable, I can perceive the melodrama. Being able to laugh at yourself does wonders for your sanity.

I'm sure not everyone feels this way about writing. The best part about it is that words, like people, can become anything. All I know is that if I ever get shipwrecked alone on a desert island, forget the coconut trees. I'll be hunting papyrus and a cuttlefish. :)

Best Novels Of 2010

A recent perusal over my fiction shelves reminded me that I had not yet completed a "Best Novels Of The Year" list (a necessary deed once a year)! There's no time like the present. Unfortunately, I had shockingly little time to read this year, but in the time that I did have, I found some jewels. In no particular order...

Enemy Brothers by Constance Savery. Possibly the best book of the year. A beautiful YA story of a young Nazi taken in by an English country family during WWII, the novel filled my heart. The writing is marvelous, brief prose that evokes an amazing range of emotions, and the characters are fantastic. This will become a regular read.

The Empty Crown by Rosemary Edgehill. Actually three novels in one, The Empty Crown combines a snarky (and secretly lonely) New York librarian with an elf king on a mission who becomes stranded in New York. High fantasy with an active sense of humor. Anyone who loves books, history, or random facts will love this.

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. This is technically a re-read, but I got so much out of it on the second go that it deserves to be listed. For anyone who (gasp) hasn't read it, it's... impossible to describe. Read it. Card's ability to tell stories of chilling despair, soaring hope, and unflinching truth through the eyes of children boggles my mind.

The Dark Is Rising by Susan Cooper. I enjoyed all the books in this series, but this one stands alone. It takes the basic premise of any fantasy (an unwilling young hero on a quest) and turns in into a modern, dark, frightening story of good and evil, written by a master wordsmith. This is one of those YA novels that defies age limits.

Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers. Another re-read, by my reaction to reading this was so dramatically different the second time that it needs to be listed. Sayers is a literary genius, and I believe this is one of her best. Here plot and character entwine perfectly. Although the mystery is central, the heart of the novel is the relationship between Harriet Vane and Lord Peter, and the surprises they discover inside themselves as they challenge evil. I discovered a few surprises inside myself while reading this one.

.....

I also discovered Agatha Christie and her brilliant, timeless studies of human character, all wrapped up in witty entertainment, and as usual, read Chesterton, both fiction and nonfiction. Reading Chesterton, I know, will be a part of every literary year for me. :)

Another novel I loved this year was Day Of Ashes by Kelsey Kline. It didn't make the list simply because it's author stubbornly refuses to complete and share it. She should be warned... dreadful things happen to such persons.

What are the best novels you read this year?

In Search of a Dream

Is the presence of longing inside a writer’s heart essential to writing fiction? Is the faint melancholia created by things we wish for, dream of, what puts the magic into make-believe?

Those questions have been prodding at my subconscious for some time now. The prod turned into a painful jolt when, after a summer of not writing fiction, I attempted my third NaNo in a row – and did not complete the required 50,000 words.

To tell the truth, I completed barely 5,000 words. I still don’t know quite what was wrong. I sat at the keyboard for hours. I allowed myself to leap between plots. I allowed myself to write endings before I wrote beginnings! But nothing worked. Words appeared on the screen, crafted strings of emotionless sentences, crisp-edged two-dimensional characters without character.

The spark wasn’t there.

At the time I attributed it to lack of time, to the stress of everyday life, to pregnancy hormones. Yet none of that ever affected my writing before… (okay, I haven’t been PREGNANT before, but you know)

Now I’m wondering if my life has become a little too full. Instead of a rather uneventful life that I spiced up by constantly spinning tales of adventure and romance, I started to live all those things I dreamed about. Now, I have a husband (who I’m very much in love with), a baby on the way (who is wanted very very much), multiple jobs, college, travel… I don’t have time to dream!

And is that the problem?

I pose the question to you all reading this. Has this happened to you? Do you think writers’ best work is influenced by what’s happening (or what’s not happening) in their lives? Or (as many great writers believe) should good fiction be utterly unconnected to circumstances in writers’ lives?

Share your thoughts, please! I’m eager to read them!

(oh yes, and if anyone has suggestions for how to overcome a fiction dry spell…please do not refrain from suggesting!)

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!

Sorry this is a bit late, but no at-home internet access does tend to prohibit one from posting on days when all libraries are closed! ;) And blah to Blackberry service which does not allow one to do anything IMPORTANT online, such as check school email, post on Blogger, or access useful weird trivia pages.

That aside... did everyone have a good day? I hope so! I did. It was funny... I wasn't sure if it would be, coming up to it. Job stress, finances, and the constant ups and downs of pregnancy had been turning Tanner and I into two cranky Scrooges. However, the wonder of Christmas prevailed. Two good friends came over Christmas Eve and we had a marvelous time doing proper Christmas-y things like decorating, making Christmas cookies (and then running around the neighborhood dropping them off) and trying to wrap last-minute gifts without the recipent peeking! All in all, it was one of the best Christmases I can remember.

Every Christmas I remember why I love this holiday so much. Despite the commercialism, despite the canned carols played in department stores and the focus on materialism, the spirit of Christ's birth is still alive and well. Kindness and joy do truly fill people's lives. It gives the world hope, does it not?

Anyway. Here's hoping everyone had a merry and blessed Christmas!

Thoughts On Being Two People At Once

WARNING: This is a ramble. A senseless, hormone-ridden, spacy, unconnected ramble which most probably will not make sense to anyone besides myself (and probably not even myself after a few days). If that disturbs you, close the window now.

For all brave (aka crazy) people who kept reading...

I suppose I should start at the beginning (the last natural place) and announce my news.

I'm pregnant.

Yes, I know this is a fairly obvious result of getting married, and yes this is exactly what we hoped for, but shock and surprise still course through my body on a regular basis. I AM PREGNANT. In other words, there is another human being inside me. Two of us. I'm no longer one person, I'm two.

Confusing. Amazing. Bewildering.

I discovered I was pregnant a week and a half ago. The baby is due on the 25 of July (I think). I'd been feeling sick for a week, but simply assumed it was my period coming on - till I realized my period was almost two weeks late. I realized THAT fact at work, and ended up getting so excited I drove into town at 10 PM to get the test. After two positive results, I drove home to tell Daddy the news. Talk about special. Those first three days of wild, bubbly, insane excitement and happiness are going to be memories I can't wait to share with our baby.

Now, two weeks later, reality has kicked in. This is going to be a BIG JOB. Actually, it's just the start of a Big Job. Are we ready? Is any parent-to-be ever ready? Questions swirl through my head day and night: am I going to be a good mom? Is the baby going to be all right? Will I be able to be the loving mother I so desperately want to be?

Needless to say, we spend a lot of time praying.

I also spend time praying to survive two things. Morning sickness (which should be renamed All-Day-And-All-Night Sickness) and mood swings. Hormones have been driving me crazy. One minute, I'm calm and euphorically happy, the next I'm ready to kill someone. Unfortunately, that someone is usually Tanner, simply because he's the only person around. I alternate between feeling guilty and sorry for him, and plotting revenge when he gives me the Look. You know, the one that guys give women that says "Honey, I love you but please stay at least twenty feet away until you regain your sanity."

I would love, just love, to afflict him with female hormones for just twenty minutes. Just twenty minutes!

Maybe twenty minutes would be too mean. Ten? Five? It wouldn't take much!

The mood swings are by far the worst part, worse than the constant nausea and vertigo. I'm also tired all the time, and simple household chores are nearly impossible. I can't even cook for myself, as food preparation sends my stomach over the edge. Tanner is handling all this calmly and doesn't seem phazed by my sudden helplessness, but I HATE IT. I've always hated feeling vulnerable. I take independence far beyond where I should, so this is a bitter pill indeed. Humility lesson, perhaps?

I still don't "feel" pregnant. I feel different (usually sick!) but not pregnant. I know there's a child inside me, but I can't "feel" it yet, physically or emotionally. That's probably what I look forward to most: the day when I can physically FEEL this new life inside me!

Tanner, I think, is most looking forward to when I start to show. He keeps standing at a distance, squinting at my belly from all angles, hoping it will magically start to grow!

We spend a lot of time looking at photographs of unborn babies, imagining what our child looks like. Sometimes, we sit there for half an hour just looking at one photograph. Then, in unison, we look up at each other and smile. No words. The emotions inside us are too fragile at that moment to find voice.

Okay, well, I'm rambled out for now, plus I need to get to work. I've some writing news as well, but that'll be the subject of another post. If you managed to get through these paragraphs of insanity, I would love to hear your thoughts and input!

Oh, yes, and I'm thinking of starting to swing this blog over to some personal posts, as well as strictly writing posts. Thoughts? Good idea or bad?

Wedding Bells!

No, I've not died. Nor fallen off the face of the earth, actually – though the attention I've given this blog over the past few months does make such a supposition likely.

Actually, two things have been occupying my time to such an extent that I haven't given much attention to anything else. Thing #1: college, specifically a technical college nestled in a beautiful swatch of country fifty miles from my house. I finally decided to try and make something profitable of my graphic hobby, and am going for graphic design. Juggling school and my usual proliferation of jobs has been quite a challenge.

Thing #2: (and this may come completely out of the blue for some people) a very special man named Tanner. We met early this spring at the restaurant where I work (which is an entire story in an of itself!) and started dating in early summer. On August 25, he asked me to marry him. A week later, upon receiving my “Yes” he gave me a shimmery ring promise.

And on October 24, 2010, we had a wedding!

So. Yes. Been a bit busy! Hopefully now I'll have more time to apply to blogging, writing, and so forth. I'm certainly going to try, as I've missed this whole writing life!

Not much is new on the writing front for me, as I've had writing on hold pretty much since I started college and began planning a wedding. I intend to start querying again and gradually get back into the swing of writing.

Whew! Just reading over this blog post leaves me feeling a bit breathless. Needless to say, it's been a summer full of surprises. I promise to return to this blog again soon (ie, not three months from now) to share more.

Murder By Pumpkin - Excerpt!

Teaser time! Today's the day for a novel excerpt - this time, a snippet from my still-untitled parody of fairy tales and detective fiction. I started this novel a few months ago and haven't had much time to work on it: so far it's my "fun" project. I've never done a parody before, though I've a passion for reading them, and Leonie, with her snarky-yet-introverted personality, is completely unlike any character I've ever met. It's been brilliant fun!

Now, I'm thinking of taking it seriously...and wondering if it ought to be a serious project at all. Hence my casting the opening few pages up for review! What do YOU think? Want more?

***

Lady Leonie L'Amarr was having a very bad day.

That's how I'd begin it, if today were a novel and if I were writing it. Which of course I would be since nobody else does. But on re-read, that sentence doesn't begin to do today justice. I'd write:

Lady Leonie L'Amarr was having the most miserable, perfectly putrid, absolutely awful and completely contemptible day of her life.

There. That's more like it.

It has been the rottenest day ever. First, I was promoted. Some may rejoice and throw balls when they are promoted. I feel like jumping into a swamp. Because, you see, I was lady's maid to Her Highness Princess Albania Whitefrog, a youngish woman of few brains but amiable intent. Serving her required little work and no mental exertion. Besides, she frequently took long naps in the afternoon, which gave me time to kill off a few more dukes and duchesses before putting the kettle on for tea.

And today, this morning which promised to be full of sunshine, birdsong, and a tour of the torture chamber, proved to be miserable when I got the notice that I'd been promoted Up two Levels. I am now lady-in-waiting to Her Highness Princess Welberta Quillnose. Princess Welberta's amiable intent has not been in question since age three, when she pushed all three of her larger (also male) cousins into the well, and then dropped in her pet piranhas. She is, also, unfortunately for me and for her cousins, not dumb.

In fact, she is considered to be the most intelligent woman in the land. “Welberta doesn't miss anything” is the word whispered behind palm plants at the balls.

So here I am. The one person in the palace with a secret (well, the only important secret, the only one worth keeping) and I will be locked in mortal combat with Welberta the Clairvoyant Cousin-Killer.

Oh me.

The news about Welberta, however, was only the beginning to my shining day. The second bit of wonderment occurred when I opened my Box of Weapons and discovered that chapter 3 was quite as horrible as it had been when I'd shut it up in there the night before.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. I should explain a few things first. If I am going to keep this diary...journal...book of events...or whatever it is, I should do it properly.

It would be a first.

So then. I am known (because it's my name) as Lady Leonie L'Amarr. I'm of common birth, with just that drop of royal-ish blood somewhere in my ancestry (not pedigree, I'm not royal enough for that) to allow me to serve those with more royal blood. Hence my existance as lady-in-waiting.

I celebrated (with a new bottle of ink and second-hand sheaf of paper) my twenty-third birthday five months ago. I like lizards and spiders and things that go bump in the night (usually royalty stumbling home from a ball) and I enjoy sunshine in moderation. Thunder is excellent at all times, and a good smashing hailstorm does wonders to wake up the world. I have a passion for poached eggs on toast and cannot bear snail soup. Which is another reason to be thankful for not being royal. I cannot bear porridge either, which is a reason to be thankful for not being common.

In matters of looks, I'm tallish, with sticky-out elbows and long toes. My fingers are long as well. I have long straight brown hair. In a book, I would have ginger-brown hair, or autumn-brown, or hair the color of leaves in a stream.

In reality, it's just brown.

My eyes are indecisive, much like me, and change from green to blue to brown on a whim. Some say it's with my moods, but since last time I looked in a mirror, carefully feeling cross, they were brown, and the time before, blue, I feel my orbital color is not a safe meter of my mental state.

My face is oval, with a chin that juts, and I have interesting cheekbones, one slightly dented from a run-in with a wall. Overall, my physical appearance is one to attract little attention, a tendency I cultivate. Invisible ladies-in-waiting get into less trouble.

And they have more time to write.

Which brings me to the purpose of this journal—diary—shall I just call it my List of Rants? I like that. Very well. The purpose of this List is (when not being a list of rants) for me to collect my thoughts on people, and cutlery, and life in general. The purpose of such a collection brings me back to my horrible day.

Because it was today I finally realized that I am going nowhere as a writer.

Confessions of a Nazi - Sympathetic Bad Guy?

Hello there! I'm doing another blog chain (yes, yes, we already covered the addiction problem last month) with AW members. This time, the fascinating topic is to show your antagonist in a sympathetic light. I LOVED the idea, but had quite a hard time figuring out how to do it. The problem, y'see, is I very rarely have an ANTAGONIST. Not the capital letters type. More often the antagonist is a situation; the person themselves; or the entire Nazi army. The few novels where I have a definite antagonist are mysteries. You don't expect me to reveal my carefully-hidden villain, do you? Well, it doesn't matter - I'm not going to. :)

And since it's a bit difficult to paint the entire German army (or Protectors, or CIA-gone-wrong, or Black Ops group) in a sympathetic light, I tried to find one specific antagonist. I found him (a Nazi captain) hulking and lurking his way through three chapters of A Fire Is Woken. He doesn't have a pronounced role, but readers have said he's chilling and completely evil, so I sat down with him this morning and we had a nice little chat about WHY he's evil.

Found out some interesting things! He didn't very much like talking to me (apparently there was some left-over resentment from WWII) but he agreed to write a letter to his wife explaining the situation, and it's that which I will present here. But before the letter, I'd like to post a short snippet from the novel, showing him in fine fettle as the evil villain.

Backstory for the snippet: Julie works as a secretary for the SOE (British secret service during WWII). Through a complicated series of events, she's now on an emergency mission in France with four other trained agents. A few hours previously, they've been captured by SS troops, and are being held in SS headquarters by aforementioned SS kapitan.

Iron scraped against iron. Light flashed down the stairs, bounced off the wet walls, glinted off the round helmets of the descending German soldiers. Their rifles banged against their shoulders as they dragged a formless shape down the stairs.

The cell door rattled open, and Trese's limp body slumped to the floor. In speechless horror, Julie watched as his head rolled sideways. Bloody bruises swelled his face out of shape; his mouth hung half-open over broken teeth. His shirt was ripped, and chunks of flesh stuck to bloody fiber.

A scream of horror built inside Julie, edging her vision with black. Oh God! Then, as Trese's body twitched and his eyes rolled open, she crawled forward. What do I do. What can I do.

Her hand reached out, slipped behind his head, lifted it off the floor, even as she ripped the sweater from around her shoulders and and put it beneath his head. Caught up in the desperation to help, somehow, anyhow, she forgot the Germans...

...until the cool tickle of a whip touched the back of her neck.

The kapitan's mouth pursed thoughtfully as he looked down at her. “This one,” he said in English, “this one will talk. Take her!”

The two Germans leaped forward. Their hands, sticky and wet from Trese's blood, closed around her arms, jerked her to her feet.

Time stopped. Unable to breathe past the terror, she stared around the cell, begging wordlessly for help she knew wasn't coming. Richards met her gaze for a split second, then he turned away and stared at his hands laced around his ankles. Bonvie didn't even look up.

Help me!

At her feet, Trése looked up through bleary eyes, and seemed to see what was happening. His mouth worked, as if he might be trying to speak, and then a bubble of saliva formed and deflated on his lips, and his head fell back.

This is it. In that moment Julie knew. She was completely alone and help wasn't coming.

The cold slick whip curled around her wrist. The cool blue gaze of the kapitan appraised her. For a split second, he seemed to hesitated. Emotion flickered through his eyes; his mouth twitched.

Let me go. Please let me go.

Then he smiled, and let the coil of whip slither from her wrist. "You will talk," he said again in English. "Oh yes. You will."

Inside Julie a scream began to build. I'm not ready to die. Oh God, I'm not ready to die.

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And now you (hopefully) have been creeped out, here's the letter he wrote to his wife the morning before.

To my wife Minna

You will never read this letter. I will destroy it the moment I finish it. I am a fool to write it at all. It is a weakness, an act of foolish desperation: a child throwing blocks at a wall. Unworthy of an officer of Germany. I do not say an officer of the Reich, for there is no worthiness there at all.

Our son is dead. You have received the telegram today, doubtless. You have read the high-minded words of his noble sacrifice, and the condolences and assurances of his painless, brave death in battle.

What you will never know is they are all a lie.

Our son did not die in battle. He did not die nobly. And he did die screaming in pain.

You have heard Hitler scoff of the secret agents Britain has sent to French soil, but what you have not heard is that they are a deadly weapon. These people are without honor, soul, or truth. It was to them that our son died. He was lured in by a girl, apparently from the local village, sympathetic to our cause. Our son, as you know, had a kind heart and the girl's pitiful story moved him. He went, finally, to “visit” her – and there was captured by her colleagues, enemy agents all.

The rest I pieced together only with guesswork...and by the hideout, which we found and captured. Too late. I found our son's body there. He had been tortured to death. He died screaming in pain. I saw him lying there, Minna, saw his blood and his broken body.

And yet I could have born that, but for the destruction of the weapons train the night after. The weapons shipment from the Homeland was the closest kept secret of the month. Only five officers knew of it in our sector. Myself, three others...and our son.

He died screaming in pain, Minna, screaming out the information they sought.

Our son did not die a hero, Minna. The enemy made him a coward, a traitor, and deserving of death.

I prayed once that this war would end, that Hitler's insanity would end, that our men would return to our great country to the arms of our loved ones. In the moment I looked down at the body of our son, my prayers ended. All I wish for now is to destroy every man, woman, and child who destroyed my son.

I will not rest until I have brought them down.

What do y'all think?

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Check out all these posts as well to see more interesting and unusual looks at the traditional Bad Guy!

CScottMorris: http://cscottmorrisbooks.com/ and direct link to his post

Aheïla: http://thewriteaholicblog.wordpress.com/ and direct link to her post

AuburnAssassin: http://clairegillian.wordpress.com/ and direct link to her post

DavidZahir: http://zahirblue.blogspot.com/ and direct link to his post

IrishAnnie: http://superpenpower.blogspot.com/ and direct link to her post

Anarchicq: http://anarchicq.com/ and direct link to her post

Proach: http://everythinghistorical.wordpress.com/ and direct link to her post

devero: http://mysticcrossroads.wordpress.com/ and direct link to his post

hillaryjacques: http://www.hillaryjacques.blogspot.com/ and direct link to her post

LadyMage: http://www.katherinegilraine.com/ and direct link to her post

M.R.J. Le Blanc: http://libraryofandunien.blogspot.com/ and direct link to her post

Mariekeme: http://www.mariekenijkamp.com/ and direct link to her post

aimeelaine: http://www.aimeelaine.com/writing/blog and direct link to her post

Fokker Aeroplanbau: http://rightfarright.blogspot.com/

Irissel: http://irissel.blogspot.com/

Collectonian: http://collectonian.livejournal.com/

Amb The Creative: http://ambthecreative.blogspot.com/

defyalllogic: http://tavialewis.com/hyperbolicallyspeaking/

Alpha Echo: http://writersramblings81.blogspot.com/

cryaegm: http://enigmainklings.blogspot.com/

Out Of The Mouths Of Babes...

Good morning everyone! Since the writing quotes I posted a while ago were so popular, I decided to do another post of more this month. Here they are, in no particular order or organization. Can't you tell what a tangled ferment of ideas my brain is always in? ;)

Out of the mouths of babes...

.

“The only thing I was fit for was to be a writer, and this notion rested solely on my suspicion that I would never be fit for real work, and that writing didn't require any.” ~~ Russell Baker

“Writing well mean never having to say, 'I guess you had to be there.” ~~ Jeff Mallet

“Most writers regard the truth as their most valuable possession, and therefore are most economical in its use.” ~~ Mark Twain

“To be arrested for the power of your writing is the highest compliment a writer can be paid—if an unwelcome one.” ~~Ngugi wa Thiong'o

“A happy ending...a distribution at the last of prizes, pensions, husbands, wives, babies, millions, appended paragraphs, and cheerful remarks.” ~~Henry James

“I have always wanted to write in such a way that will make people think, 'Why, I've always thought that but never found the words for it.' ” ~~ Pamela Johnson

“There is no rule on how to write. Sometimes it comes easily and perfectly: sometimes it's like drilling rock and then blasting it out with charges.” ~~ Ernest Hemingway

“Writing is easy: all you do is sit staring at a blank piece of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.” ~~Gene Fowler

“One writes to make a home for oneself, on paper, in time, and in other's minds.” ~~ Alfred Kazin

“When I say “work” I only mean writing. Everything else is just odd jobs.” ~~ Margaret Laurence

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In this batch of quotes I've picked three “Author's Choice” quotes to feature. I've been reading this a lot lately. This one always puts a wry smile on my face, because it fits quite perfectly with my struggle to remain true to writing while I could be making so much more MONEY for so little stress if I were to simply do a job like ordinary people!

“The fact that writers will go through so much to remain writers says something. It would be far easier (and nearly always more profitable) to become a real estate agent.” ~~ Maria Lenhart

The next one makes me chuckle and remember all the strange looks I get at work every day, when I get a story idea and stare blankly off into the distance, gabbling to invisible people. Oh the trials employers (and friends, and families, and boyfriends and girlfriends and dogs) of writers go through...

Many people hear voices when no one is there. Some of them are called mad and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day. Others are called writers and they do pretty much the same thing.” ~~ Meg Chittenden

And the third is Truth. The more I watch and study people, the more I see how much they miss. Most people seem to have tunnel vision... they don't see the drama, pathos, and romance that fills the world around us. You don't have to travel to faraway lands or pay buckets of money to find adventure. It's right here in our backyard, just waiting for someone to be conscious that it's there. Writers usually manage to find it. :)

“I must write it all out at any cost. Writing is thinking.. It is more than living, for it is being conscious of living.” ~~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh

The Discomfort Zone - Stepping Outside Your Box

The Discomfort Zone.

I love the title for this blog chain. (Kudos to Victor Travison for the brilliant suggestion!) To me, it expresses perfectly the “edge” that all writers need to balance on to be really good. Writing is just like rock climbing or water skiing – you can't be satisfied with good enough. A rock climber who learns to scale the glacial deposit in his backyard isn't going to stop there: he'll head for the Grand Canyon next. A water skiier who learns to cut wake isn't going to stop: she'll grab a single ski and try that.

Writers are the same way – or at least we should be. Just like in sports, we need to push ourselves. Try something new. Dare the unknown.

And, like all new things, it's a little scary. A little uncomfortable. It's the Discomfort Zone.

I've been labeled as an adrenaline junkie, a risk-taker, and a crazy fool (in no particular order). I like risk. I like the element of fear, the uncertainty of the unknown, the tingle of adrenaline. I'm also a sucker for punishment. The result? I spend a heck of a lot of time in the Discomfort Zone. :)

Every time I get comfortable with writing one genre, or one style, or one character, I want to try something new. My launch pad for writing usually is historical with a slight literary slant: from there I ricochet off in all directions. A few of my “projects” are:

The Hanging Tree – historical/mystery. I wrote this two years ago and at the time it felt quite brave to combine a Western and a mystery. Now it's the norm... but it was my first excursion into the DZ.

SS-5 – historical/suspense. This is probably my single biggest jaunt into the DZ. It was my first suspense novel. The suspense wasn't scary – but writing the main character was! (for Myers-Brigg people, he was an ESTP and I am an INFJ. Scary.)

A Forbidden Homeland – fantasy/thriller. Almost-completed-but-not-quite, this second 2009 NaNo novel jumped WAY out of my comfort zone! First stab at fantasy (a genre I swore I'd never write – haha) and also first stab at thriller. It's a dark novel about a people driven to extinction, sheltering in the shadows of the City of their oppressors. And it's about the man who leads the final fight for freedom... and the woman of the enemy who is his only ally and most dangerous enemy. Oh yeah. Who says the Discomfort Zone isn't fun!

Stranger's Eyes – thriller. This is my latest project, and it's comparable to wing-walking for me. Not only is the novel told only from a male POV, but it's straight thriller, and it's contemporary. Rob is an ordinary guy; nine-to-five job, football on the weekends. The center of his life is his young wife, Kay. But when his wife appears to lose her mind and assassins are breaking down their door, Rob has to become anything but ordinary in a race to stop a black op takeover. At stake is the future of the USA – and Kay's life.

And if that isn't enough to prove I've won my Crazy Writer badge, I'm also dibbling with an as-yet-untitled novel, which is sort of a parody/satire of fairy tales and classic detective stories. Leonie is a maid-of-waiting in the castle of King Percival. Ordinary serving girl by day, at night she writes the murder mystery novels that are sweeping the kingdom. No one knows who writes them – but when the Prince hosts a ball and one of the guests turns up floating in the goldfish pond, the author is top on the kingdom's wanted list – and Leonie's little hobby turns quite literally into a matter of life and death. This one is incredibly fun to write and it's so different from anything I've ever written – it's been a blast. Once again proof that being in Discomfort can be fun. :)

And now I've run out of time and space and therefore shall stop. Your turn – tell me about your excursions into the Discomfort Zone! When you're done, don't forget to check out the other posts in this blog chain!

Ruth Rockafield -- July 1

Nina Rose -- July 4

Edward Lewis -- July 6

Tracy Kraus -- July 7

Kat Connolly -- July 8

Linda Yezak -- July 9

Lynn Mosher -- July 10

Nona King -- July 11

Victor Travison -- July 14

Janalyn Voigt -- July 15

Adam Collings -- July 17

Liberty Speidel -- July 19

Chris Solaas -- July 27

Suzanne Hartmann -- July 30