Author: Joely

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

Finally, I made it over the hump and I’m into the homestretch. For those in the know, at dawn, we leave the Plains for Dalden Bay and the final ride up the Road to Shanhasson, pretty much all of Act III (plus a little romantic interlude before all hell breaks loose).

Until I finish this draft, my posts are going to be brief and to the point. As far as word count, I’m guessing 100K for the first draft, but that’s minus my main villain’s POV. I’ll have to weave that through later. This is just the main story line. I’ve got to get Shannari to Shanhasson, and then bring her home safely to the Plains without too many lost. That’s my goal.

The hardest part over these next few days will be leaving the story for the real world when I have the scent of “the end.”

Today’s Word Count: (final) 4,836

Favorite line: “If anyone is to be Khul’lanna’s breakfast, it is I. You can be her midday morsel.”

76,964 / 100,000 (77.0%)

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

I’ve seen a lot of things on this five-year climb. The road winds up the Mountain, sometimes so steeply my wrists ache from the constant typing. I can’t type fast enough and come up for air, gasping, arms hurting, hungry and bleary eyed, only to realize I was supposed to have gone to bed hours ago. Sometimes those steep climbs merely dump me into another Valley of the Shadow of Death, all the more unexpected because of the heights I thought I’d reached.

A soft voice whispers on the still night air: There’s no safety on this Mountain, didn’t you know that, silly grasshopper? No stage of the Mountain is easy. Other than quitting and trudging home with my tail between my legs. It’s amazing, isn’t it, how flat and safe the way back appears if I turn around, and how steep and dangerous the road remains ahead.

Don’t look back, the voice whispers. Don’t look down. Don’t stop now.

~ * ~

Why the melodramatic references to the Mountain today? I’ve been thinking off and on for days about expectations–specifically reader expectations. For the first time, I’m writing a book with full knowledge that PEOPLE will actually READ this book. Not safe people…like my beloved sis and Wanda who are going to love me even if I mess up this story, although they’ll YELL at me until I fix it…but….READERS.

Laugh if you will, but that’s a rather scary proposition.

Oh, I don’t know when, exactly, that this Valley began to inch its insiduous shadow into my path. It might have been while reading a piece May is writing about The Ruthless Reader. Or more likely, it’s my own ruthless dissatisfaction with a recent book. Mix that in with some positive reviews on my own work, and I suddenly find myself wanting to huddle by a campfire and peer around fearfully at the shadows instead of trudging onward.

Those shadows start to whisper such horrible things. What if…the writer’s question, you know…I’ve messed up this book? What if people hate me because I killed a character? What if people are sickened by the villain(s)? What if people want to tar and feather Shannari because she…No, no, why not stich a big red “A” on her chest?!?

Worrying about what people might think, I started making little mistakes. I flinched away from scenes I knew must happen. In fact, I tried to hide the very complex and gritty characters I’d struggled so hard to breathe life into in a silly effort to make them safe, clean, and pretty.

Instead of letting them bleed and rage on the page in all their dark glory.

Oh, okay, Gregar was still pretty, even when I messed him up, but you know what I mean.

On the bright side, at least I realized I messed these things up and have already fixed them, instead of finishing the first draft and realizing… oops! Will the real murderously sexy Gregar please return to the story? Will this whiny, whimpy Shannari PLEASE go away? Will this insanely secure and never ruffled Rhaekhar please fall down on your sword and let the jealous, aggressive Khul back on the page, please?

I finally realized today that I’m in my Dark Moment. I hit this Valley with every book, the moment when I quail before the feat and wonder what the hell I was thinking. I thought this story would be safe. I thought I’d write confidently to the end and not flinch from the truth of my own premise, but even this story threatens me with doubt. Even these beloved characters wonder if the light truly shines brighter in the midst of the midnight’s shadow, if in the end, even love can save them after the misdeeds they’ve committed and/or seen.

I realized there is nothing more ruthless than a writer doubting herself in the darkest moment of Story. Yet the moon shines above, dimly but still there, a silver beacon of beauty and love and I know what I must do.

I block those whispers from my mind. I refuse to consider the shadows writhing on either side. And I trudge on through the Valley. Don’t look back. Don’t look down. Don’t stop now.

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

First, a killer review of Survive My Fire and The Fire Within by Bethanie here. She blew ME away.

Point of view. The was one of the coolest things about this story for me: Throughout, the narrative switches point of view from 1st to 3rd person depending on which character

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

Daisy at The Long and Short of It Reviews has given Rose another great review:

Ms. Burkhart also gets bonus points for illustrating the best way to deal with tangled extra-long hair. Start at the bottom and work your way up. So many fantasy writers give their heroine butt-length hair and never mention the every day maintenance of it. One cannot get through a sword fight, or run for one

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

So there I was, writing away at the bottom of the Well, slamming words left and right…and I suddenly realized I’d paddled into stormy waters.

The water became thick, more like Jell-O, and every stroke about pulled my arms out of their sockets. “Hmmm,” says I. “Must have made a wrong turn at Albuquerque.”

I knew this scene. Even in the old terrible first draft from years ago, I’d had this scene. The key players had changed, of course, but in general, I knew where it was going. So why was I stuck? I started going through the mental check list. Was it a sex scene? (Sometimes those bog me down. All those hands to get right, don’t you know.) Nope. Was it a fight scene? (Ditto on the choreography.) Nope, but it was a violent scene. Torture. I need the good guys to torture some of the bad guys…just enough…to get key information out of them. They need to know who the traitors are.

But I knew all this going into the scene. So the problem was deeper.

After struggling to get even 200 words last night, I finally realized what I’d done around 10:00 p.m. I’d turned my heroine into a weakling. Shannari couldn’t watch the torture. Why? Because that was easier than letting her do what she needed to do.

She needed to do some of it herself.

I didn’t want her to participate, but oh, boy, she certainly did. As soon as I backed up and deleted the weak whiny stuff, she took over in a hurry, sliced and diced a while, and now this scene is going somewhere. Whew.

Back to drowning in the Well, I hope.

No Friday Snippet today, but if you want to read something, go back to yesterday’s character interview. I’m struggling to get scenes in Road that don’t spoil something…either the key developments at the end of Rose, or how those things worsen in Road. So I’ll have to think about what I can share through snippets. If I have time this weekend, I’ll peruse my old files and see if I can spruce up something enough to give away.

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

Welcome back to the show “Every Character is the Star of His Own Story,” brought to you in order to create more satisfying secondary characters. The star of the show today is Theo, a very vile villain from the Shanhasson trilogy. This interview dumped some very startling information into my lap, which I’ll be using as I come down to the climax and resolution of the Road to Shanhasson.

Arnold Vosloo sat down in the chair beside my desk.

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

A period of unrestrained indulgence in an activity; spree; binge: a crying jag; a talking jag.

I’m in a writing jag, so deep in the Well that I can’t see the sun. I don’t want to see the sun. I hit 1K and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. 2K isn’t enough. I’d go for 3K but my right arm starts to tingle.

Over 17K in May alone already (not counting this morning).

I just can’t write fast enough. The threads are tightening so fast they might strangle me if I’m not careful and I can’t use the ivory rahke to hack my way out. I’ve got to trust that the threads fall into place.

And write faster.

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

Welcome to the show “Every Character is the Star of His Own Story,” brought to you in order to create more satisfying secondary characters. The star of the show this week is Varne, Khul’s nearest Blood, from the Shanhasson trilogy.

You’ve met Varne before in several of the Shanhasson Friday Snippets. He asked to stop by the other day for an interview. Evidently I’ve messed up his entire character arc, and he felt the need to set the record straight.

Of course my co-host and Muse, Gregar, couldn’t let Varne drone on and on endlessly without putting me in a coma, so he stops by for a little while, too, to antagonize his old friend slash arch enemy. Something Gregar does very, very well.

Fine Print: The host makes no warranties as to the validity of the character’s statements herein. I can neither confirm nor deny future impact on Story. No characters were maimed in the recording of this interview either, no matter what he may claim later.

Interview:

My hand trembled as I flipped open my notebook and picked up the closest pen. I couldn

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

On April 21, I set a goal of 10K by the end of April. I’m pleased to report that I wrote nearly 15,700 words before 4/30. What’s even more impressive? My totals for May are already over 13K. Yes, I’m on a roll, or rather, I’m on the ROAD to Shanhasson. I’m in good shape to finish the first draft this month as I hoped.

This week, more of the same. I’m getting pretty high word counts so far in May, nearly 1900 a day, so I hope to keep this pace until Shannari finishes her business in Shanhasson. I do have another round of revisions to complete on BD this week, so I might take a slight hit in word count. We’ll see.

May is looking to be a NaNoWriMo type of month. I easily have 40K to write yet, even though I feel like I’m on the downhill slope. What do you hope to accomplish this month?

Originally published at Joely Sue Burkhart. You can comment here or there.

Y’all know I’m a Missouri girl through and through, raised on a little country farm. The most exotic thing I’ve ever done is take some French classes at Drury a hundred years ago, which I sucked at, by the way.

So last night was our little adult dinner get-together with That Man’s brothers and their wives. We had a little surprise: his parents arrived unexpectedly from the Lake of the Ozarks. We left the monsters with their cousins and headed to the Metropolitan Grill, my choice this time. We’re having a lovely time visiting, when Aunt BB left to use the restroom.

She came back glowing with excitement. “They have a bidet! You’ve got to try it!”

Now this wasn’t any boring old bidet by any means. This one was programmable with a heated seat. Oscilliate or pulse? Front or back? Dry?

I’m not kidding. We giggled and laughed throughout the rest of the dinner, with BB encouraging all of us to drink faster so we could all try the restroom. She challenged me to try it, and you know I never refuse a challenge. Write a zombie love story? I’m there. Try an electronic bidet? Ooookay.

They had a sign in the restroom with instructions on how to work the thing, and the header was “To Bidet or Not to Bidet.” That cracked me up and I was sold. Of course I tried it.

I don’t think they’re going to let me go back to the Metropolitan Grill.

Kidding. I didn’t blow up anything. But you know my history with power cords…