What's the Word?

Do you remember the good ol' days of vocabulary tests? I had them all through elementary, middle and high school. They were something that I viewed as tedious, but now I am thoroughly grateful for them. Every writer needs an extensive and colorful vocabulary. So, on that note, here are some words I've stumbled across recently.

Susurrus [soo-sur-uhs], noun, plural -rus-es

1. a soft murmuring or rustling sound; whisper

I love this word. You will see it a lot in FURY simply because the word sounds like what it describes: a hissing whisper.

Another fun word:

loquacious [loh-KWAY-shuhs], adjective;

1. Very talkative.
   
2. Full of excessive talk; wordy.
   

Just imagine the scenario you could create by combining those two words! A conversation between two very talkative people speaking in whispers!

Tuesday's Tip #1

I've decided to start a "Tuesday's Tip" in the hopes that I can provide at least some sort of useful information on this blog for other writers (instead of just gabbing about my writing all the time). So, without further ado, here we go.

Tuesday's Tip #1 

When reviewing sentence structure, I find it useful to think of the sentence as a piece of music. Each sentence has its own beat or cadence, and, in order to keep the reader interested, you want to make sure that you don't have too much of one beat structure.


For example: Susan went to the store. She picked up some soup. She bought a dozen eggs.


Notice how each sentence has the same rhythm? Of course, this is the most obvious form, since all the sentences have the same structure: Noun/Pronoun + verb + direct object.


When you repeat a sentence structure, it subconsciously sends a signal to the reader, and after a while it will begin to sound like a metronome. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. And even if the story is intriguing, a reader might find themselves bored after a while.


An improvement on our three sentences: Susan went to the store. After perusing the groceries, she bought soup and eggs.


Read the sentences aloud. Notice how your voice dips and rises? Even when you read silently, some part of your brain (at least, in my case) recognizes the sounds and rhythm of the words. Lack of sentence variation (or rhythm variation) can kill a good story. Often when I see the work of a fledgling writer, this is one of the mistakes that catches my eye. It's easy to fall into a pattern of writing, and it's really easy to use what works. My suggestion: Treat your sentences like pieces of music. The more varied, the better. (Though repeating beats have their uses, too. I'll save that for next time!)

What Weekend?

I finally managed to pick the lock on my unsocial cage and ran around all weekend like I was sixteen again. But with my own car. And no curfew (unless you count an expectant boyfriend who is waiting for hot wings).

Friday, I had sushi for lunch with a friend from work. No biggie. I do that a lot. Lunch with work friends, not sushi. (Unfortunately.) Then, I was supposed to have coffee with Ashley (friend from high school) but the coffee place was closed (sigh) so we went to a new restaurant called Razor's Edge. (If you live in Northwest Arkansas, that name makes perfect sense. Razorbacks, anyone? It still sounds like a salon name to me, however.) While there, we caught up and split an order of "Killer Fries". Which I paid for (in all ways). Lots of fun, though. And lots of girl time. I was like "OMG, I actually feel like a silly 23-year-old girl with no worries." FUN!

Saturday. No plans. Then Mom calls and off we go on a day of shopping and perusing. Me, with no money, still found two books (Stephen King's On Writing and Piers Anthony's Castle Roogna), lots of candy (for trick-or-treaters, of course) and two dance pads for DDR and a new game. I was living the high life, for sure. But, by the time I got home, I was ready to call it a day. (The Killer Fries were still doing their best to lay me low.)

That didn't happen. About 8 p.m., Boyfriend's friends show up already half-smashed. So, what do we do? Proceed to get drunk (well, they did. I had ONE beer) and play DDR (that's Dance Dance Revolution for those of you who aren't geeks). Hilarity ensues. I kick everyone's butt. Though, really, they didn't have a chance. They leave around midnight. Half of my trick-or-treater candy is gone. :(

Sunday. I make breakfast for two and then, over a cup of coffee, start working on DRAGON QUEEN. I know, I'm such a good girl, right? Boyfriend (who is wonderful) is cleaning house. I start feeling a tad guilty (and distracted--there is really nothing sexier than a man washing dishes), so I pitch in. And then I start eyeballing the dining room and living room. What happens? Let's rearrange! The dining room and living room look so much better now (and cleaner). My novel, however, is only a few paragraphs longer than what it was.

Mom shows up. We go to an auction. Buy $5 worth of stuff. I bought butterfly trivets, a chili dog (I learned absolutely nothing from the fries incident) and a diet coke. Antiques were being bought for NOTHING (and if I'd had a few hundred dollars in my pocket, I would have come home with an antique bed, a parlor set, and a hand crank washing machine).

Other friend from high school texts me (this would be Tiffany) and we decide to get together. So, as soon as I leave the auction, I'm on my way to her house. We go out to eat (I have a turkey sandwich this time) and then go SHOPPING. Old Navy. Target. I end up buying blouses and pants for work (writing them off as, well, I NEED them). Get call from Boyfriend. "Will you please bring me home some hot wings?" Of course.

But, before we head home, we have to get Coffee! So Tiffany and I munch white chocolate-covered pretzels and sip mochas. It is now 8:30 p.m. My body is starting to shut down. I drop Tiffany off. Go home. Boyfriend loves me so much more now that I brought him hot wings. I watch Stargate SG-1 and then pass out.

And, for some reason, I had dreams about vikings. And treasure. And zeppelins. Weird.

But, my point is, I need another weekend.

What my writing means to me...

People write for many reasons, and I won't begin to even try to list them all, but a main reason I write is to address issues in my own life through my characters. This is especially true in FURY. I wrote the book as a way to address some of the "wrongs" that were going on not only in my life but in the world around me with the intent of it having an invisible depth. It's more than just a story of a shapeshifter, a demon, and a warrior. More than a love story. And I really hope that people can see that.

I was reading tips from Donald Maas on Writer's Digest about firing up your fiction, and some of the questions he encourages you to ask are: 

What in the world of your story makes you angry? The way people treat Fury makes me angry. The injustice of her situation--being scarred for a 'sin' she did not commit--makes me angry. The way people can use your own weaknesses against you makes me angry.

What is the most important question? Are the flawed redeemable?

 

What puzzle has no answer? Are we ever worthy of the ones who love us?

What is dangerous in this world? The obvious answer would be the Devourer, but she is so much more than that. The dangers are: self-hate, self-doubt, greed, anger, obsession, ambition, pride and unwillingness to forgive.

What causes pain? The misguided and, at times, thoughtless actions of those who are supposed to love us--including ourselves.

As you know, I've been in a love/hate relationship with FURY, but these answers made me remember what it was about the story that begged me to write it. Because it is so much MORE than what it seems to be. Even on the surface it's not your typical love story. 

And my protagonists aren't the typical protagonists of a fantasy, either. Both Fury and Caden, the MCs, struggle with self-loathing and that often projects onto someone or something else. I recently read that heroes aren't supposed to have a lot of darkness in them. I disagree. Maybe it's because I have learned that the true heroes usually aren't the ones that are bright and shiny and made into action figures, but the ones that have real flaws--deep flaws--and are still redeemable. Maybe it won't work. Maybe everyone will hate my book. But I'm not going to change it. 

They say write for your audience. Well, I guess I just have an audience of one. :) (Hopefully there are people out there who will want to read this anyway, however.)

Give me back my Voodoo doll!

I'm sick. AGAIN. Not fun.

I've been told that it's because my immune system is so overloaded with fighting off stress, that it inadvertently lets the bugs in. First: upper respiratory infection. Second: stomach virus. I would take FIVE upper respiratory infections over the stomach virus ANY TIME. I, seriously, thought I was going to die there for a little while. (I was actually praying for it.) And then you know it's HELL when you finally go to the Dr. and in your feeble-minded, ego-bruised, I-just-want-to-die mentality takes another slap in the face when they force you to step on the scale and you've gained FIVE pounds.

WTF? I hadn't eaten anything in three days and I'd GAINED weight? If I'm going to puke myself to death I want to die looking skinny, people!

So, really, whoever has my Voodoo doll can you give it a rest, please? I think we're even.

To sum up this rant: I was sick. No, I did not work on Fury or Dragon Queen. I tried to work on DQ today but didn't get far. When I get home, I'm going to sleep and seriously hurt anyone who tries to wake me up.

No Longer Brain-Dead

I finally--let me repeat that--FINALLY had an enjoyable weekend. Meaning, I did things that were FUN and RELAXING. I spent time on MYSELF. (Pardon the Caps, but you must understand that for someone who doesn't have kids, this shouldn't be nearly as rare as it has been.)

I cleaned house a little, watched Mall Cop, played computer games, visited friends, went shoe shopping with my Mom (I'm happy to say I came back with NOTHING. Go me.), and slept in! Yay!

And then a miracle happened.

This morning on the way to work, I was actually musing about Dragon Queen again! WOW! I finally found out what it was that I didn't like about where the story was heading (it was feeling a bit repetitious) and now I can actually move on. And--more surprises!--I actually was able to look back at Ch. 1 of "Fury" and decide what was wrong with it. I have now, officially, began rewriting the beginning and scratching whole paragraphs. Go me! The new version is much more cohesive and makes better sense. However, it is still a rough draft, so I'm not completely happy with it, but it will get better.

On the note of beginnings, fellow writers need to check out Nathan Bransford's competition. You can post the first paragraph of your WIP or novel and if you win he will request a partial or a query or more! Consolation prizes are books and autographed bookmarks by one of the authors he represents. Cool, eh? Check it out! And good luck! (I might even post the first paragraph of "Fury"!)

Movie Time: Watchmen

I recently tried out that movie-mailed-to-home thing, and, well, I guess I live too far out in the boonies to really get the best of this deal. It takes me about a week before I can get a movie, and then another week to get another movie (even if I send the viewed movie back the next day!). However, I did get the chance to see Watchmen (directed by Zack Snyder) last night, a movie I was looking forward to.

First off, I like super-heroes. Spider-man. Superman. X-Men. I'm all over it. The action is usually pretty great and the plots (while a tad predictable) are satisfying. So, when I popped Watchmen into the DVD player, I was expecting something along those same lines. Mainly, entertainment.

Er, not so much.

"Watchmen" is set in an alternate 1985 America in which costumed superheroes are part of the fabric of everyday society, and the "Doomsday Clock" - which charts the USA's tension with the Soviet Union - is permanently set at five minutes to midnight. When one of his former colleagues is murdered, the washed up but no less determined masked vigilante Rorschach sets out to uncover a plot to kill and discredit all past and present superheroes. As he reconnects with his former crime-fighting legion - a ragtag group of retired superheroes, only one of whom has true powers - Rorschach glimpses a wide-ranging and disturbing conspiracy with links to their shared past and catastrophic consequences for the future. Their mission is to watch over humanity... but who is watching the Watchmen?" Written by T-Hen (Courtesy of www.imdb.com)

I never thought I'd call a super-hero movie deep, disturbing or thought-invoking, but this was all of those things. It starts off with The Comedian getting murdered (pretty typical action movie, right?) but then it pans back into all this political stuff dealing with the Cold War and nuclear warheads. You see glimpses into the Comedian's past, and, well, he's not what you would call a typical super-hero. Not even a typical dark and tormented super-hero. If I could sum it up in one word, I would say that he's a bastard. Definitely not what you would think of when you think of a "good guy".

And then we get a very GRAPHIC (har har) history of all the other flawed super-heroes. Even Dr. Manhattan (who is often referred to as 'god-like') is apathetic and unconcerned with the fate of humanity. (Is that an alliteration for God? Probably.) This is shown in a disturbing (yes, I'm going to use that word many times in this post) exchange between the Comedian and Dr. Manhattan in Vietnam. Thinking about it now still makes me shudder.

The beginning is slow, but when you get to the end, all those scenes that make you think "Ok, yeah, so? Can we move on please?" make sense in the end. It's definitely a movie you have to pay attention to, so if you're looking for mindless entertainment, I'd pass on this one.

I wouldn't recommend letting the kids watch this one either. It's Rated R for a reason (and trust me, there are a LOT of reasons, including watching two dogs play tug-of-war with a girl's leg.) However, if you're wanting to watch a movie that will make you think, definitely pick this one up. If you're anything like me, you will be deeply affected. And also saying, WTF?

Memorable quote:
Adrian Veidt: It doesn't take a genius to see the world has problems.
Edward Blake (aka The Comedian): No, but it takes a room full of morons to think they're small enough for you to handle.

An ADD Moment

I haven't been diagnosed with ADD, but sometimes I really think that I might have it. But then, I have to reevaluate and think that maybe it's just my mind rebelling against all the demands I put on it.

And then a part of it is sulking, just because.

The point is, I can't focus on anything today.

I was all gung-ho on editing "Fury", so I posted the first chapter on the writer's forum. The reactions so far are, well, not ones of amazed wonderment that I was hoping for. So I'm pouting. Just a little. (Never fear, I'll get over it.) But my zeal for editing "Fury" evaporated. I'm going through that moment that all writers go through: where you throw up your hands and ask 'what's the point?'

So, now that I'm throwing "Fury" dirty looks, I decided that maybe it was time to pick up "Dragon Queen" again. And, you know, finish it. I wrote a couple paragraphs but I'm stuck. There is SOMETHING MISSING! (Besides my confidence.) So I stared at the screen for a little while before throwing up my hands again and deciding to find something else to do. But nothing appeals.

Well, a nap appeals, but that's not an option at the moment.

Grr. Maybe I need some caffeine or something (except I'm not supposed to have caffeine. Bummer). Really, someone needs to whip me up a concentration potion (or at least chocolate cake).

What Works

Have you heard that saying (or something similar), "It's a lot more difficult to be creative on a deadline"? This statement is frequently heard when a certain bestselling author comes up with the same old story, the same old characters, and the same old plot. I've heard complaints that they just didn't have enough "time" to think of something new. And, really, why should they? Because their name is attached to it, it will still sell.

Well, I have to disagree with the statement that creativity does not exist in time constraints. Mainly due to the fact that I am a procrastinator (always have been) and I find that I work the best when I have a fast-approaching deadline. That's when the ideas start germinating, the pen starts flying, and I get so excited that some people might call me rabid. That's what it was like in college, and that's what it's still like.

Maybe that's why I'm more satisfied with some of the pieces that I write using Write or Die than those that I write leisurely.

If I have lots of time to write a story, I usually find myself putting it off to do other things. I'm easily distracted and easily bored. Often, I tap away at the keyboard listlessly, and my characters are often just lolling around, not doing anything. But when someone is breathing down my neck (or I pretend they are) that's when the juices flow.

However, it's really a matter of "whatever floats your boat". So, what would you prefer? All the time in the world or a deadline?

A sad, sad day

Something awful happened to me this morning.

I got up (no, that's not the awful thing) and was like "oh no! I think I overdrew my bank account yesterday!" (no that's not it either) and so I race to the computer (actually, stagger is more appropriate--it was 6 in the morning, after all) and wait while it slowly beeps to life.

Un-caffeinated, I stare at the screen for about three minutes before I realize that something is wrong.

Lots of white text on screen = normal (I found out today that the appropriate term for this is the 'post'). But then, at the bottom, it says "Insert media reboot device and press any key". Now, even when I am caffeinated, that makes me go "What media reboot device?" So, what do I do? I just press a key, cross my fingers, and hope that works.

It didn't. Like a patient school teacher, it repeated its message.

Well, I'll show you, computer!

I turn it off.

Wait.

I turn it back on.

If computers could laugh diabolically, mine would have. In a truly truculent moment, it whirs to life (yes, it whirs. The fan is huge) and refuses to do anything else. The screen is completely blank.

I blink at it for a moment. Debate about smashing said computer, and do the fail-proof fix. I turn off the computer again. Check all the connections. Make sure nothing is on fire (or looks like it's about to be). Check the connections again. Turn it back on.

It whirs to life and then...Nothing!!!

I start cussing. My boyfriend starts looking for exits. I reconsider my plan to smash computer to bits.

Leave for work. Discuss problem with IT guys. Diagnosis: You're probably going to need to replace the hard drive or motherboard or both.

My response: So, what you're saying is you're coming over to my house after work, right?

Blank stare.

My response: So, what you're saying is that I need to buy a new computer, right?

And, thus, my tragedy. Fortunately, I have a laptop I can connect, so all is not lost. But I'm going to coerce one of my friends to come over and confirm the diagnosis. Then I'm going to have him either A) fix it or B) recommend a new computer.

I like the idea of a new computer...if someone else wants to buy it for me. Any takers? :)