Alive and Well

I survived the 3 Day Novel Contest. At times I wasn't sure that I would, but I did. Here's the journal my friends and I kept. We went a bit insane...but it was fun.

I managed to write the entire novel I had planned out, based on the outline I made. This was a learning year for me; the story I wrote was a plot that I had mulled over for over five years, and my goal was to get the entire plot down, regardless of the quality of my writing. Too often I spend hours agonizing over making sure my writing is perfect; this year for the 3DNC I wanted to write a complete, if rough, first draft. I accomplished that. The first draft of Demae's Story (working title), is 24,800 words, about half of what I would like it to end up being. 

Now that the 3DNC is over, I plan to leave Demae's Story for at least six months before starting to revise and edit for a second draft. In the meantime, I will be sending more queries for Dragonhoard. It feels like a never-ending process. It probably is. :)

The Dance

Greetings! Below you will find my first attempt at writing fan-fiction. It is set in The Hero of Ages, the third book of the Mistborn Trilogy by Brandon Sanderson. If you have not read the books, beware that there are MAJOR SPOILERS in this post. The tune I had in mind while writing this is Flight of the Silverbird. I hope you enjoy it!

***

THE DANCE

The Mists were watching, suspicious of her every move. Sitting in the boat’s bow, Vin stared back at them, trying to divine their secrets. She should be sleeping; she had been, until a clatter on the deck brought her springing to her feet. It had just been one of the guards fumbling with his spear, but Vin had decided to stay awake, burning pewter to stifle her exhaustion.

A quiet step sounded on the deck, too faint for normal hearing, but loud in Vin’s tin-enhanced ears. She turned to see Elend exiting the cabin, dressed in his distinctive white uniform. He gave her a glancing smile, then handed a piece of paper to one of the guards. It must not be important if he didn’t write it on a steel sheet. Vin mused. The guard read the note then looked at Elend, confusion written on his face. The Emperor just nodded his head toward shore and the guard obeyed, departing the ship to complete whatever errand he had been given.

Elend clasped his hands behind his back as he strode towards Vin. She stood as he joined her, gazing out into the mists. “I was hoping you would come back to bed.” There was no accusation in his voice. Only concern.

Vin shook her head. “I wouldn’t have been able to get back to sleep.” She looked up at him. “I am sorry I woke you. You need your sleep more than me.”

He shrugged, turning toward her. “I’ve got pewter too, you know.” Taking her hand, Elend led her to the middle of the deck. “But, there is something I need.” Vin frowned. It wasn’t like Elend to beat around the bush.

“Is it something to do with Ruin? Did you receive a message from Sazed?” Her husband’s traitorous lips betrayed the slightest hint of a grin. The guard was returning to the ship, someone tagging along behind him

“Upon further reflection, I have decided that one dance with my wife doesn’t satisfy me.” Vin heard the soldier’s fingers scrape the paint on his whistle as Elend bowed formally. “Empress Vin, may I have this dance?” She didn’t know what to think. She stood there, frozen by the unexpected request. The reedy voice of the whistle floated about them and the Emperor led his astonished wife into the first steps of a dance. Vin finally found her voice.

“Elend, what are you doing?”

“Dancing. I should think that much would be obvious.” Vin was tempted to stop the pleasant movement and demand a reasonable explanation; she realized she didn’t want to.

“You found a musician?”

“It is surprising to learn the backgrounds of where our troops come from. This particular soldier,” Elend nodded toward the whistle-player, “Was an undercover body-guard for Lord Hastings, disguised as a flutist in the ensemble that was always called for entertainment. Quite clever, don’t you think?”

Vin didn’t know what to think. She couldn’t help feel that what they were doing was utterly ridiculous. We are dancing on a boat in the middle of the night  for Lord Rulers’ sake! But she discovered she didn’t want to stop. The lilting tune carried her through the movements as she followed Elend’s steps.

The flat, wide deck of the barge provided the space needed for the dance, and they let themselves relax into it. Vin looked up, using her tin to see the almost invisible stars. She imagined them dancing above earth to an eternal tune.

Elend brought his head down to Vin’s ear and whispered, “Do you have iron and steel?” She nodded, tensing. Had he heard something in the mist? Elend smiled. “Get ready.” He dropped a coin.

As the boxing fell to the deck, Vin felt Elend’s arms wrap around her. Her bronze told her that Elend was burning steel even as their feet left the deck. Vin’s instincts kicked in and she Pushed, trying to control where they were going. Elend kept his arms about her.

“Trust me.”

She heard the smile in his voice. Relaxing was very difficult, especially when suspended in the air, but Vin managed to loosen her muscles to the point where she wasn’t fighting to remain calm. Elend steadied them above the coin, then held her with one arm while he reached to his coin pouch. He loosed a stream of boxings around them and they flew glittering to rest on the deck of the barge.

Elend took a deep breath. “Now, my Empress, let’s dance.” Wrapping both arms back around her, Elend began Pushing on coins while Pulling on the metal cleats and chocks that were attached to the deck. The result was that they began to spin, from point to point, twenty feet above the barge.

A laugh escaped Vin’s lips. Only Elend would think of this. Dear, handsome, loving Elend. She had never heard of anyone using Allomancy to dance, but that didn’t matter. Who said that two Mistborn couldn’t use their gifts in such a beautiful way? Below them, the guards and musician watched with wide eyes as the two of them continued to spin gracefully above their heads.

They dipped and twisted through the air, following the trills of the melody escaping the wood instrument below. Realizing that he was supporting both of them, Vin began to Push and Pull with Elend, following his lead. He smiled down at her.

“I wasn’t sure if this would work.”

“And you still tried it anyway.”

“Of course. It was too exciting an idea to pass up.” Vin took a moment to note the blue lines that emanated from her chest; each one led to a source of metal that she could either Push or Pull on.

“Let me try.” Elend nodded, and they centered over the original boxing, holding hands. Vin released his hands as she Pulled herself toward a cleat, Pushing gently on several coins that lay nearby to make herself spin. She traveled in a spiraling plunge, then Pushed harder on the coins to climb back up to Elend’s height. Circumventing him, Vin was impressed. It was much like traveling by spike-way or horseshoe, only adding the spin called for much more concentration.

She turned toward Elend and Pulled on a chock behind him while Pushing on the coins scattered about the deck. She flew toward him, hands ready. He caught her deftly by the fingers and swung her around. Surrounding them, the watchfulness of the Mist became a confused curiosity as it witnessed something that had never been before.

3 Day Novel Madness

The first time I heard the phrase, "Three Day Novel Contest", my blood pressure skyrocketed. Just the thought of writing an entire work was terrifying, without having to do it in three days. But here I am, planning my third Labor-Day-Weekend getaway for that very same event. Let me give you some of the reasons I am able to survive this, and want to continue participating every year I can.

1. I have a great support system. In particular, the three friends I do the getaway with. We range from single, college-age to married college professor, but we all share one passion: writing. We offer each other encouragement, make each other take breaks when one of us is stressing, and even dish out some tough love if necessary (this usually manifests itself when one of us has had enough of the others' shenanigans and needs to be isolated for a few hours). 

 

2. We go to a relaxing location. Everyone has a different definition for "relaxing", but for me it means my family's cabin in the Pocono mountains. There's no wi-fi or running water, and very spotty cell-power. This makes it impossible to be distracted by the ever-present internet, and allows us to fully enjoy the woods that surround us. I like to think the gurgling creek, the whispering of the wind, and the occasional wildlife we see all serves to inspire our writing in different ways. 

3. I have a plan. Or, half a plan. This year I did a full outline of the entire novel I am going to be working on. It isn't very complicated, just bullet-points of what needs to happen in each chapter, but it will keep me on task and remind me of where I'm going in the story, should I get lost. My end-goal for the book is for it to be somewhere between 50 and 60 thousand words. I'm aiming to get around 30,000 written over Labor Day Weekend. I tend to have a very short attention span, so I work in spurts, broken up by tending the fire, making food, catching crayfish, etc. 

I do plan to actually enter the contest eventually...this year I was intending to, but we decided to start Thursday night of Labor Day Weekend because of Sharon having a wedding to go to. I didn't want to waste all that extra time, so did not pay the fee. Maybe next year.

I look forward to this year's 3DNC, and hope all the others who participate have as much fun as I will!

Excuses

Well, it's been a few months. A week after my last post, the mother of three of my close friends died very suddenly, and I've been rather distracted since then. I hope to return to my schedule of posting every Sunday, but it might take me a little while to get back into the swing of things. In the mean time, there has been a development that I wanted to catch you up on.

Using the Twitter hashtag #MSWL, a friend of mine let me know that there was a literary agent looking for fantasy fairy-tale retellings. The novel that I wrote, Dragonhoard, fits that description perfectly, so I spent August 1st-8th madly finishing my second draft (which included adding more than 10,000 words and editing over half the existing chapters). I sent it to the agent, along with my query, on August 9th, and now am just waiting for a reply, which could take up to a month.

I would love to get an agent on my first try, but that is not realistic. What I am hoping to gain from this is some feedback from the agent about my work. Was she engaged by it? Was it interesting? Did she find the characters flat? All this information, if she takes the time to give me feedback, would be extremely helpful as I continue to query Dragonhoard over the next few months.

So, as I move along, and continue to journey the terrifying landscape of trying to publish a novel, I will endeavor to faithfully keep updating this blog. Till next time, then.

Motivated Writing

There are days when you don't feel like writing. And then there are days when you flat out can't write. You know what I mean. You pull up the document or pull the blank page toward you, running your fingers over the keys or fiddling with the pen, staring into the white nothingness. And nothing comes. Nothing. It may take you five minutes, or over an hour, but eventually you admit to yourself that nothing is going to happen and surrender the fight. 

This is not good, nor should anyone make a habit of it. But, last week, I had that kind of day. Nothing seemed to go my way, and by the time I sat down to write a post, I was frustrated, bitter, and a mash-up of Grumpy the Dwarf and Oscar the Grouch. Pulling up my blog, I tried to decide on a topic. The empty post glared at me, bright whiteness hurting my eye-balls. My brain imagined the screaming taunts and jeers of the untapped keys beneath my fingers. They were all telling me the same thing: "You're stuck, and there's nothing you can do about it."

So I shut my computer, grabbed some chocolate, and graced my family with my gretzy presence. That was that. I had surrendered, and didn't want to confront the shame I felt. 

The next day, I sat down to journal, but this time had no problem putting words on the page. The difference? My new leather journal had arrived while I was at work. The beauty of the thick pages and the gorgeous reddish-brown leather made me wish to write beautiful things, and gave me the courage to put my thoughts down permanently. Later that week, when I set time aside to edit Dragonhoard, I decided to give myself an achievable goal; once that goal was reached editing-wise, I would allow myself a small reward: writing in that elegant journal.

This may sound rather childish, and even a bit stupid. I'm not saying it's right for everyone; I just know that when I hit a road-block, I need something more. I love words. The way they flow, sound, feel, and look, I love it all. But sometimes I get scared of not being able to write well. I get paralyzed. So now, instead of surrendering, I stimulate my productivity with a little shot of something special. 

Into the Woods...and out again

**WARNING: You are about to read a movie review by an amateur writer who has never done anything professionally with film, singing, or writing. All opinions below are based off of previous experience including (but not limited to), acting, a life-time of reading classics, watching older movies, and discussing modern movies with friends and family who have more credentials in this area.** 

I have a strong dislike for musicals. I don't outright hate them, but they usually aren't my first pick when discussing options for entertainment. That being said, I went to see Into the Woods with some friends yesterday. I was under the impression it was a live-action mash-up of a whole bunch of fairy-tales. At least I wasn't completely wrong. As Cinderella began singing, I turned to my friend and asked (as discreetly as possible), "Is this a musical?" Without hesitation, she grinned. "Yeah!" 

I imagine that my face at that moment looked as if I had a mouthful of sour milk. "Oh, boy. Here we go," I thought to myself. About two minutes later, I was completely engrossed, prejudices thrown to the wind. I loved it. I LOVED IT. I genuinely enjoyed a musical. What's more, I don't have any complaints about how the singing was ridiculous or over the top. (well, I will slightly amend that statement later on.) My biggest (and only), complaint was the question of morality in one song. 

In the song, "Moments in the Woods", the Baker's Wife sorts through her feelings about having a "moment" with Prince Charming. I was quite pleased that she put up a struggle against wanting to be with the prince. During their scene together she says "No, this isn't right!" after kissing him; then, during her soliloquy, she states, "There are vows, there are ties, there are needs, there are standards, there are shouldn't and shoulds," before asking, "Why not both?" This is an amazing example of how each one of us has to struggle with our own personal sins, and I found it very compelling. 

What I did not find compelling, however, was her decision to hold on to the memory of the moment after she leaves the wood. Humans need to struggle and make decisions; this is how we grow. However, if we hold on to the destructive part of our painful growing experience, we won't be able to grow. True, growing happened because the Baker's Wife struggled and overcame, but she did not reach her entire potential growth because she decided to hide away a little tidbit of the "moment" that she could pull out to admire and smile over whenever she wanted. 

Personally, I am very relieved that the character did have the struggle, because it makes her more human, and she definitely came farther and was more mature about it than many people would be. If the Baker's Wife had laughed in Prince Charming's face and just walked away, no one would be able to relate to her. I just wanted that one ounce more of commitment to her moral compass to make it perfect. But hey. I can't say anything...I've never made a movie.

Anywho, on to the rest of the movie. 

SPOILERS ALERT.

Okey-dokey. Here we go. 

All the music was absolutely delightful. Besides the wonderful orchestration, the singing was top-notch, and characterizations while singing were spot-on. Particularly wonderful were The Wolf (played by Johnny Depp), Cinderella (Anna Kendrick), and Prince Charming (Chris Pine). 

One song in particular that had me in tears (from laughing so hard), was "Agony". Sung by the two princes, this song is essentially a massive ego-boosting, heart-throbbing boast-battle between the brothers who are both lamenting their tragedy-ridden love-lives. This song is utterly ridiculous. And not in a bad way (yes, you read it right. I don't know when I will ever write that again...). What made this song so incredibly amazing was that they revealed all the cliches that have become so rampant in our society regarding good-looking guys. And how do they reveal these cliches, you ask? By using all of them waaaaay over the top. :) Just watch the video and you'll understand what I mean. I could not stop laughing. I was actually concerned that the dear older lady next to me was going to hit me with her handbag or something because I was laughing so loud. It was a one-of-a-kind experience. 

Something else that pleased me beyond all description was that most of the fairy-tales are true to their root legends all the way to the "happily ever after"...Cinderella had to call her birds to pick up the lentils, her step-sisters cut of their toes and heel to fit the slipper on, and then were blinded by Cinderella's birds. Little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother were both swallowed by The Wolf and had to be cut out of his stomach. Jack traded his cow for five magic beans which his mother promptly threw away. He made friends with the giantess, but her husband wanted to eat Jack. Gold coins, a golden harp, and an egg that laid golden eggs were all stolen from the giants by Jack, and he chopped down the bean-stalk as the giant was climbing down, resulting in the giant's death. And my favorite: Rapunzel's prince was blinded by thorns from the Witch and sent wandering. The Witch then cut off Rapunzel's hair and banished her to a swamp (which is an acceptable replacement for a desert), which is where the Prince found her and her tears healed his eyes. 

The costumes. OH! The costumes! I was in heaven. The colors, the textures, designs, they were all amazing! The film is very steam-punk costume-wise. I felt that the style of the costumes was in no-way distracting and actually lent to the feeling of how fairy-tale it all was. I particularly liked the princes, the Baker's Wife (her Wood costume), The Wolf, and the Witch. The costumes spoke volumes for characterization. *Sigh* They were fantastic. 

One more thing to leave you with. There is one particular song in Into the Woods that I believe will be a boon to mankind: "On the Steps of the Palace". In the future, if ever a boy or man asks how a woman thinks, I will point him to this song. It is my opinion that "On the Steps of the Palace" catalogs the method used by most women to analyze almost every situation they find themselves in. I can directly relate to Cinderella...making a decision is difficult, and I always want to explore every option, every facet, every little bitty piece of information before settling on anything.  Watch the clip and see if you don't agree. Even if you don't agree, it's a fantastic song and you should watch it anyway. :)

As I have said above, Into the Woods is a fantastic movie, and I will definitely be forcefully recommending it to those whom I know who are so unfortunate as to not have seen it yet. I hope, if anything, that you found my review amusing. Let me know what you think of the movie!

Running with reviews

The editing of Dragonhoard is coming along. Not fantastic, not terrible; just sorta...there. It's an odd experience in that, I am preparing to try to sell this piece of writing to the public. That is somewhat daunting and overwhelming since, in the past, my biggest audience has been my family, teachers, and a group of twenty-some writers, teachers, musicians, and artists (called Ekphrasis) who gather to peer-review each others' work. 

That being said, I have given Dragonhoard to several friends to read and asked that they give me their honest opinions, recommendations, and desires for it as readers. I have had feedback from a few friends about it, but one in particular was especially helpful.

This past Tuesday, I went to AM's house, not quite sure what to expect. She is well-read and especially enjoys fantasy, fairy tales, and fairy tale retellings. Dragonhoard is a retelling of the classic Beauty & the Beast story, which has always been my favorite fairy tale. Considering that AM was almost over-qualified to peer-review my novel, I was nervous about how drastic her suggestions would be. 

To my amazement and excitement, AM had compiled a document for me as she read Dragonhoard. After each chapter, she wrote down her immediate thoughts, questions, and typos she had found. She gave me a printed copy of this document (titled First Read), and we went though it, chapter by chapter, discussing pros and cons of everything she had noted. 

Many of her initial questions were answered later in the book, and some of her comments were encouraging and insightful (i.e. first impressions of characters, guessing at where the plot was going). AM's questions were also insightful, letting me know where I needed to give my audience more detail or hash out a conflict that was going on. As we discussed her thoughts, AM was able to ask me questions which helped me to hash out plot points that NEED to be changed. :) Then, at the very bottom of the wonderful First Read paper, AM had listed problems within the plot that were never resolved, how long it took her to read the entire first draft, and a summary of her overall experience. 

Needless to say, I was incredibly overwhelmed with gratitude at the time and effort AM had taken to give me the most helpful feedback she could. Her First Read is going to be an incredible help to me as I continue the process of editing Dragonhoard, and I can only thank God that I have such wonderful friends. 

Till next week, then, friends.