Category: The Writing

I can’t claim many words at all for today, but I have a very good reason.  Last night on Twitter, I saw a recommendation from Smart Bitches that they’d love to see downloadable excerpts on author sites.  Made total sense — after all, I’ve been a reading junkie now that I have my iPhone.  So after work tonight, I set out to create pdf, rtf, and epub downloadable excerpts for all my novellas and novels.  They’re centrally located here on a single page, or you can retrieve the files from each book’s page as well.

I’ve got to admit, switching pdf to epub via Calibre and Stanza was a royal pain in the backside.  I can’t imagine what a headache it is for Deena to do these (and many more!) each and every release!  However, I think this is a huge step in the right direction.  If there’s a format you wished I had available, please let me know and I’ll figure out how to get it!

Back to NaNoWriMo, I had over 2K last night, but only a couple hundred tonight.  An unplanned sex scene reared its ugly head, earlier than I expected.  Is this the big show down moment?  Is she finally going to tell him to suck it up or leave her the hell alone?  Maybe.  I need to see how the next few sections play out.  I’ve still got a few external plot things to deliver (the leak/spy) so I don’t know if the timing is right or not.

But at least I had fun.  🙂

NaNoWriMo total:  32,582

Snippet:  Remember that Shiloh’s stage name for the show is “Gift.”  She did poorly on the “service” challenge and is being punished by another Master, shortly after the last snippet I posted.  Remember, this is all staged for the show.  It’s not a real BDSM scene in action.  However, it’s the only place where Victor allows himself to really play Master, which is why Shiloh gets herself into so much trouble.

“Her safeword,” Victor said in a voice that made cold chills race down her spine.  “Is Christmas.  I expect you to use it if you need to, Gift.  That’s an order.”

She kept her head down for him, giving him the respect even though he wasn’t participating in the scene.  “Yes, Master.”

“Christmas,” Patrick drawled out.  “Very well.  Count them out, Gift, so I’m not forced to start over at the beginning.”

The long leather tail snaked on the floor, rasping and promising agony.  He gave a trial snap that made her flinch, but the whip didn’t touch her.  Not yet.

He laughed softly.  “Ready, my dear?”

“Yes, sir.”

She heard the sharp crack of the lash before she felt the cut of his blow on her left shoulder.  Her breath rushed out and she twisted her wrists in the bonds, but she didn’t cry out.  Damn, that hurt.  He must have managed to hit one of Victor’s bruises.  “One.”

If it’d been Victor delivering punishment in a formal scene, she would have thanked him for it, but not Patrick.  Not unless her Master ordered it.

Panting, she opened her mind to the pain.  She didn’t fight it or tense her muscles.  In fact, she relaxed everything.  Her knees sagged, but the bonds kept her upright.  She fought her eyes back open and sought Victor.

Don’t you understand I’m doing this for you?  This is nothing compared to what I want–need–you to do.

He gave a slight nod of his head but his face remained stiff and remote.  An order, or encouragement?  She couldn’t tell.  His face was too hard, his eyes too dark.

As a consummate showman, Patrick trailed the leather across the ground, drawing out both her tension and the viewers’.  When her breathing had steadied, he pulled his arm back and sent the whip whistling through the air again.  Pain bloomed on her opposite shoulder.

She sucked in her breath and clenched her jaws to keep from crying out.  She wouldn’t make a sound for him.  Screams and moans were rewards for the Master wielding the weapon, and she refused to reward anyone but Victor.

When she trusted her voice, she whispered, “Two.”

“I’m impressed, Gift.  I thought surely you would be whimpering by now.  Maybe you’ll endure ten strokes after all.”

Her back burned so fiercely she did want to whimper, but she looked at Victor–his hand clenched about his crop that was laid in his lap, his other hand wrapped around his wineglass so tightly she thought it might shatter–and she clamped her mouth shut.

The day started out really slow.  I had a brief session semi-Dark & Early, and then after the Evil Day Job while waiting on dinner to cook (Princess Monster has guitar lessons on Monday so we eat pretty late).  When I came downstairs to do the dishes, I only had a tad over 1K.

I went back upstairs after dinner and proceeded to goof off on Twitter.  Conn wanted to look up some poetry for some Twitter buddies, which is always fun and engrossing.  I guess I should have shut down my internet, but I was smiling and happy when I finally sat down to write, instead of grim and determined.  While watching Monday Night Football, I kept whittling away at the scene, determined to break 2K for the day.

When I pasted my day’s work into the NaNo file, I had not only hit 2K, but realized I needed less than 200 words to break 30K for NaNo.  Of course, that was a challenge I could not refuse!  So back to Victor and I eeked out a few more paragraphs.

NaNoWriMo total:  30,001 words

Victor:  up to 49,946.  Now you’d think I would be determined to keep going until I broke 50K here, but I do have 50K already.  I have a side file started for some future “dark moment” notes, a couple of blog entries I’m still debating, and a long talk with Mama Connagher.  So I don’t feel pressured to keep going for another 54 words tonight!  My wrists are pretty sore (I played a game of Bejeweled tonight with my laptop touchpad and almost cried they were so sore!), so I’m calling it quits for the night. 

Since Victor is picking up a little, I might try to get a bit in Deathright tomorrow after I complete at least 1666 words for him.

Snippet:  Written tonight, unedited.  Victor is NOT pleased. 

Rage pulsed so dark and ugly through him that he trembled.  He’d never bound her, and now another would do it and make him watch.  He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing, instead of ripping that damned rack apart with his bare hands and dragging Shiloh upstairs where he would bind her.  Where he would punish her within an inch of her life.  Where he’d make savage love to her until she never again even thought to invite another Dominant to lay a hand on her.

Something touched his knee and he flinched, his eyes flying open.  Shiloh huddled at his feet, her forehead pressed to his leg.  “Forgive me, Master V.  Give me the order and I’ll refuse.  We’ll re-film the entire episode.  And I’ll endeavor to watch everyone’s food selections instead of daydreaming about what I could do under the table with such a full-length cloth to hide me.”

Some of the turmoil shredding his gut faded.  He heard the sincerity in her voice.  By the catch in her throat, she might actually be near tears.  Silently, he laid his hand on her head, rubbing his fingers against her scalp.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Yes you did.”  He sighed out a long breath but kept his fingers gentle on her head.  “I’m assuming Mal helped you plan this out?”

“She said it would be risky,” Shiloh admitted.  She twisted her head so she could look up at his face.  “Are you very angry?”

“Yes.  And I’m going to be much angrier after I have to sit here and watch Patrick ogle my sub while he whips you.”

 Her eyes were dark and solemn.  “Am I yours?” 

So I won’t lie – the last few days have been TOUGH.

It’s been a combination of many things:  week two slump, several crucial sex scenes, and shaky character arc that required me to go back and tweak a few things.  This isn’t the time for revision, but I had to get a few “points” on the character graph clear in my mind so I could see where I needed to map the next point. 

I’ve struggled to concentrate.  I sit down and want to do ANYTHING but write.  Check Twitter!  Check my e-mail for the thousandth time (having key submissions outstanding doesn’t do much for my willpower to stay out of gmail)!  I even sat down and wrote the promo letter, gathered up all the mailing supplies, labels, etc. and got my ARCs ready to mail out.  Friday, I got my PO Box, so exciting, so now I need to print out some return address labels, then my packages will be ready to go.

But through it all, I’ve touched at least Victor every single day.  (Okay, that sounds dirty.  You know what I mean.)  I may have only gotten 300 words in two hours, but I kept chiseling away at the file, even if that meant a single paragraph a few days back to clarify something.  I’m still in good shape for NaNoWriMo and slightly ahead of the midway point.  Hopefully I can keep that small margrin.  My numbers over the weekend have slowly crept up — I cleared 1400 words today, which is a mountain compared to the last week or so.

I haven’t written in Deathright for several days.  I finished Act I and ended with a cliffhanger.  Now it’s like my brain needed time to let all that sink in.  I know what happens next — generally.  It’s just a matter of getting back into that story when I’m ready.  As tough as Victor has been, I’ve been afraid to leave him because I didn’t want him to go cold on me.  He’s my priority, even if I’m dying to write the other story too.

NaNoWriMo total:  27, 487

Snippet:  This is a bit from the rough stuff I wrote tonight – totally unedited.  The Dominants are displaying the “reward” for the reality show:  their collars.  Georgia is the hostess of the show.

Georgia smiled for the camera and reached out to pluck Victor’s velvet away herself.  “Oh, folks, just wait until you see what Master V has hidden beneath this cover.  It’s so gorgeous, I’d almost try out his crop just to have the opportunity to wear it.  May I?”

Victor inclined his head and let her pull the velvet aside.  The camera panned in to get the full effect of the large glittering diamond V. 

Georgia fluttered her hand out toward the diamonds.  “How many carats?” 

He smacked the crop down an inch from her hand and she snatched her fingers back, her eyes snapping with outrage.  “Enough.” 

 

Finally, some decent progress!  But only in Deathright.  I need to sit down with Victor and jot some notes tomorrow before getting started.  I’m really loving Majel and could almost make a book just for her.  Actually…  Grrr!  Finish the current book, dear Muse, and then we can talk, okay?

Today: 2,452

NaNoWriMo: 24,628

Snippet:  I don’t want to give away too much of Majel’s incredible story.  A lot of today’s words were telling her history — which I might have to change as too infodumpy.  On the plus side, it’s not “As you know, Bob” because Murray has no idea of the truth.  Worst case, I don’t include any of this in the final story, but *I* have to know it.

Majel closed her eyes and took a long draw of the fine wine, hoping it would still her nerves.  “I didn’t make the connection that the nanobots may have introduced new DNA…Until my mother tried to kill me.”

Murray sat up so quickly she almost dropped her goblet.  “What?”

“She ordered me to meet her on the Tower roof,” Majel lifted her chin slightly, indicating the ceiling above.  “I thought it was odd.  After all, if she wanted to speak to me, why not order me to her chambers, or at least come to mine?  But like a trusting lamb to slaughter, I met her upstairs.  That’s when she told me she was going to disown me and my heirs.  I was upset, obviously, swinging from rage to worry to fear.  What would I do?  Where would I go?  Why had I risked my life for nearly a decade in her war, only to be exiled from my homeland?  We were arguing when she shot me.  She emptied the gun into my head and chest, the whole time muttering that it wasn’t enough.” 

So my great progress has been slowed a bit — and I’m okay with that.  That’s why I was trying so hard to get ahead!

However, I wrote myself out of my comfort zones in both stories, for different reasons.

In Victor’s story, I thought HE was going to give me the most trouble.  I mean, hello, the man likes to use his crop and I have noooooo knowledge of how that might play out.  Other than being reluctant and stressed out, Victor has been fine.  It’s SHILOH who is now driving me nuts.  I joked with Sis this past weekend that I had to type her scenes with my eyes shut.  She has such a potty mouth and is sooooo beyond any heroine I have ever written before.  This gal knows exactly what she wants and she isn’t afraid to tell Victor in every single dirty word she knows.  At first it was hilarious because of Victor’s reaction.  Now, geez, it’s hard to type so much with my eyes closed.

In Deathright, I decided that to make this book BIGGER and fit into the overall scheme of the world I’m building, that I should add Her Majesty the Queen of Britannia to the mix.  Great idea.  Waaaaay too much work at this point in the game, because it requires a huge over-arcing story thread that was only a vague idea in the back corner of my mind.  It took me a couple of tries, both jotting notes and opening a new file, to figure out what’s going on in her mind, and WHOA.  She blew me away.  I adore her already, and I never expected to.  To be honest, she’s supposed to be an antagonist, or at least a morally-questionable trickster character who makes the protagonists’ lives more difficult, but I love her.  Which is a good thing, obviously, since she’s a major character and needs to stick around for several books.

The little bits with Murray tugged on my heart in a totally unexpected way.  Love it when that happens.

The other thing going on:  I sent out a new submission package last night, so I needed to revise my synopsis and query, pull everything together, obsess and stew over every little word, etc.  However, that’s off my plate and I can concentrate.  Well, I still need to do that PR letter.  Grrrr.  But otherwise, it’ll be Victor and Deathright this week.

NaNoWriMo total: 22,176

Snippet: this is from the Majel file.  By the way, most of the characters’ names have a very special or deliberate reference.  Murray in particular I chose because he was Byron’s and Shelley’s publisher.  Now the character on page has absolutely nothing to do with that, but it was a subtle nod to the period and what I’m doing.  Majel’s name is also a nod to someone, as is Catrionia.  Others I just like and made up, e.g. Zang, pronounced Zane-guh.

Murray bowed with a smart clip of his heels as she picked up the datapad, but he lingered in her presence.  She’d known him for decades and trusted no one as much as she trusted him, but the man looked positively petrified, pale, sweaty, and kneading his hands.

Her eyebrows rose with alarm.  “What is it, Murray?”

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but I have more troubling information.”

“More bad news, or something more troubling than a planet’s assimilation without my orders?”

“The latter, Your Majesty,” he said, bowing even lower.  “Bordering on a personal issue, I’m afraid.”

“I see.”  She set the datapad aside and gestured to the chair beside her desk.  “You have my complete attention.”

Murray sat, all long elbows and bony knees, so that he looked folded and scrunched in the low chair.  He toyed with the cravat tied at his neck, demolishing his mech’s careful artwork.

“Murray, you’re being very silly.  How many years have you known me?”

“I came into your service sixty three years ago, Your Majesty.”

Yet he looked nearly the same as she remembered, with only a few lines about his eyes and a sprinkling of gray at his temples.  Surely the dedication and care he’d lavished on her all these years deserved a few rewards, such as the vitality and youth enhancing techniques perfected at MIGS.  She might not approve of Stryker’s methods, but she was forced to admit that she personally and Britannia as a whole had prospered and flourished with MIGS’s miraculous inventions.

“Surely after all these years, you’re not afraid to tell me the truth.”

“Of course not, Your Majesty.”  A faint smile tugged at his lips and a ghost of the man she’d taken to her bed after her heirs were born nearly thirty years ago tugged at her heart as well.  “I know you rely on me for that very reason.  Yet I’m reluctant to tell you this because I know it will hurt you deeply, and I’ve no wish to upset my queen more than she must already be after this day’s events.”

She reached over to take his hand in hers and merely held him, waiting for him to find the words.

“I have reason to believe that Princess Elinor is conspiring against you.”  Murray raised tormented eyes to hers.  “She is spreading dire rumors among the nobles, claiming that you are unfit to rule because,” he stole a quick, furtive glance at her hair mixed with feathers, “you have gained an unhealthy fascination with the crows roosting on top of the Tower.”  He swallowed in a loud gulp.  “She means to have you assassinated.”

This weekend was definitely tougher going than the first week.  I finally had to [cheat – fill this in later!] because the scene just wasn’t jiving in my mind.  See the posts on Writing Transformative Sex why certain scenes can be difficult for me.  I didn’t have two characters just falling into the sack.  I had two characters who were afraid, confused, lost, upset, SOMETHING.  I needed the emotion and I couldn’t put my finger on the “journey” inherent in the scene.  Not exactly.  So I broke voice and just typed out a few ideas I had on my mind and I’m going to move on.

Sometimes, for a first draft, you just have to move on and finish the damned book.  Later, in revision, I may find I don’t even need that scene.  For this book, I think I will — but I’m hoping to have a better handle on the sexual journey after the next “day’s” events unfold.

In Deathright, I decided that to make this story fit into the overall world I’m building that I should also introduce a thread for Her Majesty.  But then I immediately stumped myself, because I can’t write a scene for a character when I’m not clear on her motivations.  Oh, in general, I know things, thanks to the plotting of Seven Crows.  But I also got stuck in that little story.  I knew something wasn’t right, and it has to do with the Queen and her story.  Every character is the star of her/his own story, so I need to know what her goal is.  Exactly.  In excruciating detail!  I didn’t feel comfortable writing in the main file, so I started a new document to type out ideas and see what I get.

Today, I need to write a PR letter.  I hate PR letters.  I can write all day about people who only exist in my mind, but I hate writing about myself.  I really need to get some ARCs out, though, and I have no excuse, other than a reluctance to get this letter done.

I don’t have individual file word counts handy (plus it’s complicated now that I started a THIRD file!) so I’ll just go with the total NaNo counts.  Victor did break 40K last night so I’m definitely past the halfway mark.  (I’m targeting 70k, about the same as Dear Sir, I’m Yours.)

NaNoWriMo total:  20,484

Snippet:  I’ll show you how I “cheat” when I haven’t finalized the worldbuilding details yet.  This is a bit from the Queen’s POV for Deathright and is ROUGH.  I don’t just throw names at stuff — I try to make them mean something — and I have no idea how Sublime Space has been laid out yet.  Details, details.

As soon as her advisor stepped into her chambers, Queen Majel knew by the tightness of his face and stiffness of his shoulders that he approached with foul news indeed.  She threw the datapad down on her desk and rubbed her aching temples.  “Another planet has fallen to MIGS.”

“I’m afraid so, Your Majesty.”  Seneschal Murray activated the viewscreen and brought up a chart of [Gamma Sector].  “Lady [name] notified me moments ago of an SOS signal we intercepted from [planet].”

Friday, I had a pretty good tally in Victor going with 1,929 words.  I planned to switch to Deathright in the evening and get a little more words, but it just didn’t happen.  By the time the monsters got to bed, I was so tired that I went to bed too, and then slept almost 10 hours straight.

Yesterday, I knew we had family coming over for dinner:  my Dad, my sister, and Uncle J (That Man’s youngest brother) and Aunt BB.  I needed to get the kitchen presentable as well as start the crockpot of ham and beans that I’d promised, and then my Dad showed early, which is always a treat (but kept me from writing before company showed).  We picked up the monsters’ old-time pictures I tweeted about a few weeks ago, grabbed lunch, and drove to two different places in order to find our dog’s food (long story).  We pulled in our driveaway and Molly had been waiting for us long enough to pull out a book while sitting our front step. 

We talked, drank coffee, watched the monsters try to kill each other, drank more coffee, etc.  Dinner was simple but delicious.  Before Sis headed out I was already yawning (despite the number of cups of coffee I’d had!), and so I wasn’t very productive last night.  I did open my file and wrote a handful of sentences, but that was it.

So I got up early this morning before church and wrote a few hundred words.  Not much, but enough to finish the scene I was in and get a little bit of a headstart before football sucks up the rest of the day.  I need to jot notes for the upcoming scenes.  For Victor, I know the “show” scenes, but I don’t know the off-the-show scenes very well, other than vague notes.  I need to know the PURPOSE.  What’s at stake, who’s doubting, who’s afraid, etc.   The external plot is progressing nicely, but it’s the internal arc I need to watch.

NaNoWriMo total right now:  17,915 words.

Snippet:  I have Victor open, so I’ll give just a small snippet from there that won’t mess up the Friday Snippet flow.

“The first trailers are running on VCONN tonight too.”

 “Then it’s to be too late for your mole to leak the show’s details–we’re going to be baring it all ourselves.”  She paused, her eyes sparkling mischievously.  “You did call and warn your mom, right?”

Victor groaned.  “I’ll call Mama right now.  God help me.”