November 3, 2008, 5:34 am : Ready for the straight jacket?

Filed Under: My life, The work of writing, NaNaWriMo, Tarot Cards
Discussion: C[0]mments

Brace yourself. I’m going to give you information that you may not know about me.

Ready?

Here goes.

I’m nuts. I’m not all there. My mother would say I’m not playing with a full deck. My father would say I’m a few fries short of a Happy Meal. My husband just rolls his eyes.

So even though I know I’ve lost it, it doesn’t stop me. I still sign up for voluntary torture every November. For those who may not know, November is National Novel Writing Month. Here’s how it works. Take 30 days, continue to work your day job and spend some time with your family (at least enough so they don’t stage a mutiny). Add a major national holiday that requires a LOT of cooking. Throw in Black Friday and the Holiday shopping sales that represents. Just for good measure, let’s add at least one member of the family with some type of flu-bug and your choice of either a power outage or a major computer problem.

Now write. Not just a little, but a lot. Like 50,000 words!

And I’m crazy enough to sign up EVERY SINGLE YEAR!

So here I am, ready to go again.

A mere 1,667 words a day. YIKES.

This year, though, I plan to use more of the tools at my disposal. In addition to the dictionary and thesaurus and dozens of specialized writing books that adorn my desk, I plan to use my cards. I’ve used tarot cards for more years than I care to remember. I’ve used them for life decisions. I’ve used them to “kill time.” I’ve used them to impress my friends with my “cool skills.” I don’t usually use them for writing, though. Yet I should. Think of the insight the cards could give me about my murder’s motive. Or my victim’s past. Or my heroine’s options. NaNoWriMo is about quantity, not quality. It’s not like I don’t have the stories floating around in my head, right? So putting them on paper shouldn’t be an issue. Or at least it shouldn’t be.

I also have my candles. To be more accurate, I suppose, it’s just one candle. It’s a tall, dark blue one that was charged with Reiki energy to facilitate creative writing. It has some essential oils in it as well, but I don’t remember which ones. Sadly, I don’t remember where I got it or what the exact name of it is, so I’m not sure what I’ll do when it finally burns so far down it won’t light anymore. I’m not sure if it’s the scents released into the air, the miniscule amount of heat from the candle, or a purely psychological placebo effect, but for some reason that candle makes me write. I end up on a roll, in the zone, whatever other cliche you want to pick.

For me, it works. It’s another tool I can use to write. Not just for the crazy month of NaNoWriMo, but anytime.

Oh, and let’s not forget caffeine. Lots of caffeine. And very often. It may not do more then keep me awake, but I’ll need it if I’m to make the 50,000 word goal.

So here I am gathering my tools and preparing my coffee maker. On my way to 50,000 words this month. On my way to book two in my series. On my way to the straight jacket.

Blessings,

Nichole

October 24, 2008, 6:35 am : Why I write what I write

Filed Under: The work of writing
Discussion: C[0]mments

Why write paranormal?  For me, the answer is simple.  I like ghosts.  I believe they exist.  I know they exist.  I’ve seen them.  I’ve talked to them.  Some of them have even talked back.

Some people may think that’s a little nuts.  Some might want to get me fitted for a nice white jacket, or get me started on the latest anti-psychic medication.  That’s why I don’t usually discuss my experiences with the paranormal.

Now that I live in a highly-spiritual area of the country, my paranormal experiences seem to happen more frequently.  Is it because of the beautiful Black Hills?  Or am I just more open now than I was in my late-teens and 20s?  Who knows.  Maybe both.

Why I write is harder to explain.  I’ve heard it said that a true writer can’t not write.  I’m not sure I believe that.  Some days it would be a lot easier to play computer games or even fold the laundry than stare at a blank computer screen trying to come up with the next scene.  But I try anyway.  I enjoy it.

I’ve written my entire life.  As a child, I published a small newspaper about the events in my neighborhood.  Each press run was one copy, done on leftover school paper with crayon-drawing images that I pretended were photos.  As I grew up, I went to college to be a journalist.  I joined the Air Force to be a public affairs specialist (any other DINFOS-trained-killers out there?) and to pay for the rest of my college eduction.  Now I spend my days writing fiction.  OK, some could say that’s what I did in the military, too, but let’s not go there

I’m currently working on my first novel.  Ghost Mountain is about a 30-something mother who is compelled by her spirit guide to help solve a murder.  Cerri doesn’t want to help.  She doesn’t event want to believe in spirit guides.  But the circumstances are too compelling.  And the family traditions she’s grown up — and tried to abandon — along with her over-riding sense of justice ensure Cerri sees this through to the end.

Cerri and I are a lot alike.  We’re both on a journey that, at times, seems out of our hands with “talents” we’ve tried to deny.  But we’ll both keep plugging along and make it work to our advantage!

October 24, 2008, 6:29 am : Attention paranormal mystery fans!

Filed Under: The work of writing
Discussion: C[0]mments

Join five struggling paranormal mystery writers on the journey to publication.  Our blog starts Monday (Halloween week, how appropriate!) at http://paranormalwriters.blogspot.com/.  Join us!

August 14, 2008, 4:00 pm : Every two months?

Filed Under: The work of writing
Discussion: C[0]mments

I really had planned to blog here regularly.  Doesn’t seem to be working.  Oh well, lots of plans don’t work the way we want them to, right?  At least I haven’t totally forgotten this blog.  Every two months is better than only once ever!
The weather is getting cooler, and school will be starting here in just a few weeks. That means I’ll have more time to write, but also that NaNoWriMo is quickly approaching.  And I’m stuck between two great plots!

While I’m still working on Ghost Mountain,  the plan has always been that Ghost Mountain be the first in a series.  Each of my stories would take place at a different Lakota holy site in the Black Hills.  Since I have the first book (mostly) finished, I’m ready to get started on number 2.  That leads me to my problem.

I have the site selected, I just don’t know which direction to take.  Either  there will be a huge casino/bar to be built right next to the site, or I could use a bad-ass motorcycle gang and the Sturgis Rally for some conflict.  Yeah, I could use both, but is that overkill?  For those familiar with the Black Hills, both scenarios are rooted in fact.  Either situation has happened once and could easily happen again.  Doesn’t make my choice any easier, though.

I have until November 1 to decide.

June 27, 2008, 4:49 am : Writing update

Filed Under: The work of writing
Discussion: C[0]mments

I’m still working on Ghost Mountain. Some days I wonder if I’ll ever finish it. Right now Agent Oliver and Cerri are talking with a suspect and the scene just seems to drag on and on. I can’t get them to get the info they need and get the heck out of there!

Time to get back to it….

April 3, 2008, 8:21 am : Using the emotions to put it all in perspective

Filed Under: My life
Discussion: C[0]mments

It’s one thing to write about terrible events in some fictional character’s lives. It’s another thing to live through an event like that in your own.

Let me explain.

Tuesday, April 1, started off like any other day. Here in the Beautiful Black Hills, we’d had some snow (not unusual for late March, early April) and the roads were a little slick. Since it was April Fool’s Day, I started it off by telling the kid she didn’t have school. Got her hopes up, just to say “April Fool’s!” I know, I’m a meanie. She got up, got dressed, and headed off to school.

Before I continue, let me explain something. The state law in South Dakota gives 14 year olds the privilege of driving. I’m not a native of this state, so maybe that’s why it’s not a law I’ve ever agreed with. I think 14 is a bit young. If 16 was good enough for me, then it should be good enough for everyone, right? But ask any South Dakotan between the ages of 12 and 16, and you’ll hear what a great idea this law is. So the kid and her dad convinced me to let her take driver’s ed, let her get a car, let her drive herself to school.

So Tuesday, I’m waiting. Waiting for the call that my child is required to make. The one that is supposed to put me at ease about her driving. The one where she tells me in the most annoying of teenage voices that she’s once again made it to school on time. Instead, when my phone rings, she’s crying. “Mom, I’ve been in an accident.”

My husband says my response was to scream “Oh My God!” That’s when he knew something was wrong, perceptive guy that he is. I spent the next few minutes trying to talk to our daughter, answer hubby’s barrage of questions and get dressed (hey, when you work out of your home, you you can delay showering right away!). I finally heard a man’s voice, “You need to hang up.” My sobbing daughter replied, “It’s my mom. She’ll be mad.” The man took the phone from her and told me he was a paramedic. I needed to meet them at the hospital. Once again I thought I was going to vomit. My overactive, mystery-laden brain was coming up with all kinds of scenarios.

On the way to the hospital, I started making calls. The school needed to know she wouldn’t be in today. The auto insurance company needed to know about the accident. (Where was that policy info anyway? Oh yeah, in her car.) The medical insurance company needed to know she was going to the hospital. (What do you mean I have to call you back? Aren’t I supposed to get pre-authorization for everything? Oh, the rules are different in an emergency? I see.) Her grandparents needed to know.

Since the ride to the hospital obviously took at least an hour — difficult since I know hubby was really pushing the speed limit, going the most direct route and it’s only 10 miles from our home to the hospital! — I had time to make these calls. I called my dad’s cell phone. Dad is a retired cop and can handle an emergency. He didn’t answer.  I called Mom’s phone next.  Mom is a never-to-retire homemaker who doesn’t deal real well with blood, vomit, or hysterical daughters.  She says didn’t understand a thing I said besides “I need to talk to Dad.”  Meanwhile I remember my husband telling me I had to calm down.

Once I got Dad on the phone, I really lost it. I was able to finish my mini-break-down (first of many, it turns out!) by the time we got to the hospital.  We beat the ambulance there and had our daughter all checked in by the time she showed up.  I’m not sure how that happened, to be honest.  I don’t remember answering any questions.  Hubby probably handled that.  I’m almost positive I didn’t.

When we saw her, she was on a backboard with a neck brace.  An oxygen tube was stuck in her nose.  Her face was scratched and scraped from the airbag.  Her eyes were red (well, the one she could open) from crying.  Her clothing was burnt.  She had two fat lips.  Once again, I thought I would vomit.

I won’t go through the emotions of the cat scan and x-rays.  I know I talked to the cop as he gave her a ticket for failure to yield.  I know I didn’t  argue with him.  I just wanted to be back in the ER room with her.  Besides, years of experience taught me not to argue with a cop.  Or is that just not to argue with Dad?

I remember having to leave a few times.  Telling the kid I had to pee, when I was really in the bathroom crying.

Eventually, the doc said they would release her…  sort of.  She needed to be taken across the street to an oral surgeon.   Her jaw was “very broke.”  She ended up having it wired shut, a condition she doesn’t need for dietary reasons (the kid is 5′6″ and MAYBE 120 pounds!), but will have to live with for the next 5 weeks.  At least.  By the way, the cost of that part alone was more than we paid for the car.  And that doesn’t include follow-up visits or the ER trip.
Now, a mere two days later, I’m still a basket case.  I  find myself accidentally starting down the path of “what if” and can feel the tears well up inside me.  I’m not sure this kid will ever get to leave sight of either her dad or me.  Looking at the car, I know how close we came to  losing her.

I know I will never again leave the house, or let her leave the house, or let my husband leave the house without saying those three words that annoy every teenager — “I love you.”  I know that I will take my writing more seriously because it’s something that is important to me and I’ve seen that we really don’t know what tomorrow brings.  I know that we should never put off what needs to be done right now — at least not when it comes to those we love.

I’m so sorry I had to learn these lessons.   I know it was Divine Intervention that kept my daughter from being “more hurt.”  Her angels were on the job that morning.  Take a few minutes right now and tell your family and friends and loved ones what they mean to you.  You might be really glad you did. No matter what, it will put things in perspective for you.

March 6, 2008, 8:57 am : Bouncing back

Filed Under: The work of writing
Discussion: C[0]mments

I’m getting better.

Actually, those three words are a pretty big deal.

After my not-so-pleasant critique experience, I’m bouncing back with my writing. That’s not to say the word count on my WIP has increased dramatically, but it HAS increased. I’ve also joined a mystery writers critique group and have found that to be very beneficial. Of course, that could be due to the fact that people actually offer suggestions there, not just “I don’t like this” comments.

Personally, I’m bouncing back from illness as well. Some of the stuff going around is just plain nasty and takes a LONG TIME to recover from. Trust me on this. I know what I’m talking about.

So all of this has worked together to get me out of the writing habit.  I started thinking of all the other habits I’ve “gotten out of” over the years.  My guitar sits next to my computer.  I can play about 4 chords and one song.  I should make it a habit to practice.  Let’s not talk about people I’ve made a habit of in the past.  Certain friends have stuck around, but some I thought would be there “forever” are long gone.  Knitting, reading, crocheting, sewing…  all things I like to do, but I don’t make a habit of doing them.  I should.  I want to.  I need to.

I need to get off my butt and write.  No other way to explain it.  I need to bounce back and make writing a habit.

January 31, 2008, 6:33 am : Inspiration lost

Filed Under: The work of writing
Discussion: C[0]mments

I spent the last hour or so on a “blog tour” searching for inspiration for today’s post.  I didn’t find any.  For the record, I like blogs.  I have three myself — one for family and friends, one spiritual, and this one.  Each of mine gets added to fairly regularly.

Since I didn’t know what to write about here, I thought I’d read some of blogs I’ve bookmarked and maybe be inspired by a topic there.  I went through the writing blogs — also called “blogs by authors” — and the only interesting topic I found was about characterization.  Good and important, but not overly inspiring to me today.

Next were the hobby blogs.  For those who don’t know, I’m a crafter.  I love knitting and crocheting and sewing and sculpting and beading and decoupage and the entire process of creation.  While I found a picture of some beautiful turquoise yarn, I didn’t find anything to inspire me.  Well, not to blog.  I really do want that yarn, though.  It would make the most amazing socks, I think.

With no inspiration there, I headed to the friends and family blogs.  I find a post about me on my sister’s blog where she’s challenged me to make 26 double-sized or larger quilts for a homeless or women’s shelter in 2008.  The loser has to drive the 500 miles to the others house for a weekend *and* buy the other lunch.  Haven’t started that yet.  I’m probably behind the power curve there.  Among the friends and family category, though, I found two blogs where people were talking about their publisher or how their novel was finished and they were looking for an agent.  Somehow that didn’t leave me too inspired, either.

The final category of blogs I check are the odd balls.  I check blogs that have to do with the paranormal things, tarot cards, or green witchcraft (Note: NOT WICCA.  They aren’t the same.)  While a lot of those have to do with the upcoming Imbolic or Candlemas celebrations, they didn’t inspire me, either.  I did get another wave of “wish I had a bunch of people to blog with” though.

Ah well.  I’ll take this as a learning opportunity.  It’s easy to not write and those who are looking for an excuse will find one — or, more aptly, won’t find their inspiration.  Even without a topic to blog about this week, though I found words.  I found something to say.

Now to use that same determination on my manuscript.

January 25, 2008, 6:11 am : Is it writing or is it high school?

Filed Under: The work of writing
Discussion: C[0]mments

I have a great amount of respect for authors who can crank out numerous books a year.  Lori Armstrong is one of them.

Lori is a mom, a wife, member of the local writers group, and a published author.  In TWO genres, even!  She has multiple books coming out each year.  And she’s a damn good writer.  I admire the fact that she can do all that, even though I’ve seen her a little stressed over multiple deadlines.

But what really makes Lori stand out (in my opinion) is that she is willing to help us not-yet-published authors.

After getting my critique back, I wondered what it would have said if my pages had gone to a person like Lori.  Would there still have been some problems in the pages?  Of course.  Would the notes have been done in red pen so it looked like someone “bleed” over it?  Probably not.  Would I have been more receptive if the reviewer had seemed to know my sub-genre?  Of course.
Writing is a tough business.  I know that.  You know that.   I don’t see why the published need to act more superior than the unpublished.

The whole thing reminds me of high school.  Seriously.  My freshman daughter tells me of upperclassmen who are just plain mean and bossy to the underclassmen.  Why?  Because they can be.  (Although my opinion is that some of those kids are just mean and bossy anyway.)  It’s a teen-age power trip.  And when these freshmen become seniors, some of them will undoubtedly be mean and bossy to the then-underclassmen.  Because that’s what was done to them.  It’s a vicious cycle.  One that isn’t necessary.

It’s the same in writing.  Constructive criticism goes a long way — much further than criticism for the sake of criticizing.  There’s enough negativity in the world without me adding to it.  I want to learn.  I want to improve.  I want to be the author that I know I can be.  And when that time comes, you can bet your bank account that my criticisms of other’s work will be constructive and helpful and encouraging.

January 10, 2008, 7:29 am : What am I?

Filed Under: The work of writing
Discussion: C[0]mments

Am I, or am I not, an author?  Am I a writer?  This week, I didn’t think so.
I got my critique back and it was less than stellar.  I didn’t expect the reviewer to tell me how wonderful I was — although that would have been nice — but there was very little the reviewer claimed to like.  Even in the section of the critique called “Strengths.”   Ouch.  And it was marked up in red pen.  Double ouch.  And the reviewer’s handwriting leaves much to be desired so it takes some perseverance to decipher it.  Triple ouch.
So I did the big girl thing.  I went in my room and bawled like a baby.  My family tried consoling me by telling me the reviewer was wrong, my novel is great.  Of course I answered them like a big girl.  “You have to say that.  You love me!”  That’s what I tried to say between sobs, anyway.

Now that I’ve calmed down a bit, I am able to be slightly more objective.  I can see that the idiot who critiqued me reviewer was definitely NOT in my target audience.  I can also tell that person probably doesn’t read paranormals or cozies very often, if at all.  The reviewer did have a few suggestions I might incorporate, but I might not.  I don’t know yet.

I do know that I need to find a reviewer who doesn’t “love me” who is in my target audience, or at least is familiar with the sub-genre I’ve selected.

My change of attitude has answered my question in a way that all the love, support, and encouragement from my family and friends never could.  I am a writer.  I am going to be a successful author.  I’m not going to let one person’s opinion matter so much.   Especially someone who isn’t anywhere near my target audience.

I will keep writing!