Monday, May 23, 2016

Time to Celebrate!

It is time to celebrate!

I have been offered, and have accepted, a publishing contract for Too Wyrd!

Thursday, May 12, 2016

Editing is Pain

Editing is a pain.

This much is true.

Having to face my own writing and determine what parts of my blood and sweat should be taken out, replaced, destroyed or reworked... it's pain. Each word was wrenched out of ME. It's part of ME. How can I analyze it for flaws?

They say you should love yourself for who you are, but I have to edit who I am because I'm not a body. I'm a body of works, of words, of stories. All enhanced by caffeine.

While I write, I go full-on drama llama. I yell out that I suck so bad. I let my fabulous hubby correct me, and I argue with him.

When I edit, I have to face the truth.

What if I really DO suck? What if my writing really IS horrible? What if I was right?

I finished my edits of Too Wyrd today. I tried procrastinating at the halfway point, but I eventually got it done.

It's really not so bad.

In fact, it's kinda great.

But don't tell my husband...

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Too Wyrd, Excerpt, Part 3

Part 1 is here.  Part 2 is here.

Somewhere in my mind, I knew I was dreaming.
I ran through narrow hallways, feeling the presence of something chasing me. In that dream way, I couldn't tell you what it was chasing me, but I knew what it was. It was a monster. Or several.
I ran, keeping just ahead of the monsters in a way that can only happen in a dream. I could feel the way the monsters reached for me, barely missing my back. But when I threw a glance over my shoulder, there was nothing there.
I ducked around a corner and stopped dead in front of an old wizard. He looked a lot like a certain gray wizard from a certain story about a certain ring, but it wasn't the same guy. This one had an eye patch over one eye, for one.
The wizard held out a piece of parchment to me, and a raven-feather quill. I took it and looked it over. It listed a bunch of random things, none of which stayed in my mind once my eyes left the words.
I put a check mark next to several of the items and handed back the parchment. The wizard bowed his thanks, turned and walked away.
As soon as the wizard left, I started running again. The monsters were behind me and had taken up the chase again. But they were no longer the only things chasing me.
There were men working with the monsters. I heard the yelling, growling and snuffling of their chase, felt their claws graze my shirt.
I ran around a corner and entered a huge warehouse storage room. I stared at the room for a moment, surprised. It was filled with piles of grain. The different shapes and colors told me that they were different kinds of grains, but I didn't recognize any of them.
The monsters approached the door and I ran into the room. I dodged behind one large pile of grain and hid. I could hear the men and monsters looking for me as I edged around the pile, digging my hand into the grain, searching for something. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, just that I needed to find it.
Once I was far enough away, and they were too close, I ran to the next pile of grain and did the same thing. This time, I pulled a piece of paper out of the pile of grain. I glanced at it and saw lines scratched on it, like symbols.
Over and over again, I ran from one pile of grain to the next, digging for pieces of paper, hiding from the monsters and the men. Soon, I had four pieces of paper clutched in my fist. I bolted from the room and ran across the hall into another room.
As I ran, I saw warriors running towards me. They looked like barbarians or Vikings. They attacked the men and monsters on my heels. I slammed the door shut behind me, somehow sure that they were here to protect, not me, but the pieces of paper.
The sounds of battle frightened me, but they soon stopped. The door opened and the wizard stood in the doorway, this time dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. He held out his hand and I gave him the papers. They turned into silver pendants in his hand. He checked each one against the check-marked list that I had filled out before.
“You are the one,” he said. “I'm sorry.”
I sat up in my bed, cursing loudly.