In The Midst of Chaos

Which is precisely how I feel at the moment. But, it being WIPpet Wednesday

I must dash in quick like the proverbial bunny, give you something from a current WIP that relates to the date, and dash out. “No time to say hello, good-bye. I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!”

ROW80, I promise to catch up on details/goals next Wednesday.

There and Draft Again is hosting a giveaway in honor of surpassing 100 followers. Go see what it’s all about.

And now, because I feel as though I’m in chaos, a little of the same from Emergence. 22 lines from what is currently Chapter 22:

“Ciara?” He approached her cautiously, as though she were a wounded lion.

She lifted her face. Her eyes stopped him. They were darker than he’d ever seen them; hard, cold, and dancing with flickers of red. Anger flashed in them and Bolin braced himself, but it faded instantly.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, her voice flat. “I thought they came back.”

She looked down at Berk, and brushed the damp hair off his forehead. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling with a slight hitch. Blood stained the left side of his tunic. Bolin edged closer and though Ciara didn’t look up the shadow of power around her darkened.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you. He’s very angry.”

Bolin wet his lips. “You’re safe now, Ciara. You and Berk both. Tell him he can go.”

She shook her head, her hair fell thickly around her shoulders in a tangled, matted mess. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He crouched down, an arm’s length from her, ducking his head to try and catch her eye.

And now I must away. Go spread the WIPpeteer love!

Need a Weekend Read? Three Suggestions as I Play Catch-up

These days I feel like I’m running and running and never catching whatever it is I’m chasing. Of course, some people actually do that for exercise I hear. They’re called “runners” and “joggers”. Strange creatures. I’m even related to a few of them.

But I digress. Which I do often. I once again find myself with a hundred and one Dalmatians things to do and limited time resources to do them with. Did I mention we’re painting the house? Yes, it desperately needs to be done. By us? I voted no, hire pros even if you, hubby, need to sell a kidney. Hubby voted, DYI. Why do I let him win? *sigh*

Okay, digression again. What’s the point of all this? Well, first and foremost, I’ve read some amazing books of late (two outside my usual genre) that I have yet to get around to reviewing and feel like a schmuck for not doing so. Yet. So, until such a time, I wanted to share them with you so that you may enjoy them as well.

• A Little Primitive by Josh Langston Funny, engaging, witty, full of twists and turns. If you’ve never read any of Josh’s work, I urge you to do so. The man can write.  Blurb: “Life can be tough, but it’s even tougher for a guy who’s only two feet tall — and utterly uncivilized. When the little primitive tumbles into the world of a reclusive young woman, he changes her life forever. It’s not enough that she must protect herself from an insanely jealous ex-husband, she now has to nurse her tiny, unwanted guest back to health *and* maintain the secret of his existence! This contemporary thriller goes beyond the usual genre boundaries and delivers a story of intrigue, humor, history and suspense. Mato, the little primitive, has many talents. Not only is he a fearless warrior and intrepid hunter, but he’s a gifted artist and seer. On a life-or-death mission for his clan, the two-foot tall hero faces a world dominated by giants whose magic has no limits. Fortunately, Mato runs into Tori Lanier, a young woman facing demons of her own. Together, they struggle to make sense of a world that grows more confusing every day.”
• Six Train to Wisconsin by Kourtney Heintz  I was fortunate to get an ARC of this book and will be hosting Kourtney for an interview in June 11. An emotional, excellent read. Blurb: “Sometimes saving the person you love can cost you everything. There is one person that ties Oliver Richter to this world: his wife Kai. For Kai, Oliver is the keeper of her secrets. When her telepathy spirals out of control and inundates her mind with the thoughts and emotions of everyone within a half-mile radius, the life they built together in Manhattan is threatened. To save her, Oliver brings her to the hometown he abandoned–Butternut, Wisconsin–where the secrets of his past remain buried. But the past has a way of refusing to stay dead. Can Kai save Oliver before his secrets claim their future? An emotionally powerful debut, The Six Train to Wisconsin pushes the bounds of love as it explores devotion, forgiveness and acceptance. Brief Summary: When Kai’s telepathy spirals out of control, her husband Oliver brings her to the quiet Wisconsin hometown he abandoned a decade ago, where he must confront the secrets of his past to save their future.“
• Games of Adversaries by Susan Elizabeth Curnow  Fantasy & SciFi rolled into one tale. At first I was thinking, Cowboys vs Aliens. Pishaw! That movie has nothing on this book. Think major culture clash when highly advanced meets medieval. Wonderfully written. Gobbled it in one day thanks to bad weather (or I would have been painting). Blurb:  “Yiahan rial Krais dances for his god, while in another time and another world, Commander Marcus Oregada strives to save his folk. Bereft of families, wives and children, no loved ones live to warn them: Beware the door slammed shut to escape inhuman violence, where memories amass like cobwebs, spun by he who spilled your blood. For there will be a day of reckoning to sweep away reason and sanity. To break you and divide you, never knowing it will bind you, as it twists and rends your lives to face the destroyer of souls.”

I also have received several Blog Awards over the past couple of weeks that I need to address. I promise to acknowledge those as well. Soon.

And, if you haven’t yet, hop over and Like my FaceBook page K. L. Schwengel. I share tidbits there you might not find elsewhere.

Now, have a great weekend! I’m off to update my Works in Progress page, dash off a Blog Post for There & Draft Again, and maybe squeeze in some writing (which involves the demise of a Plot Bunny I’m afraid) and then head outside to work some dogs and, yes, paint the house. So much for a day off, right?

Back to the Beginning & Reaching the End

Happy Wednesday! First, right off the top, I give you the unofficial official WIPpet meme, inspired by our very own Kate Sparks in honor of WIPpet Wednesday’s open door policy.

Who can argue with Boromir, right? Well, fine, pretty much the whole council did. But this time he’s right, you can simply walk in.

When I started up with WIPpet Wednesdays again, back a few months ago, I believe I was giving you pieces of Emergence. Since I’ve officially claimed The First House (a.k.a my sandbox) as a WIP with intent, as much as I hate to, I’m not giving you any more of it. Not right now. And, because I’m feeling all sorts of giddy for having reached some big decisions regarding Emergence, and since I’m closing in on The End of the first draft, for the 15th of May, I give you something from Chapter 15. Welcome back to Emergence, A Darkness & Light Novel, Book Two. In this scene,  Bolin finds himself up against two strong-willed woman:

“Lieutenant, see to the lady’s horses, then ride back to meet the escort and see they make it here.”

“Aye, General.”

“Are you going to ignore me for the rest of the trip?” Ciara asked.

Bolin set the packs down and began removing Sandeen’s saddle. “I’m not ignoring you now, but you want to know something I’ve no intention of telling you. Either of you.” He added that last for Nialyne’s benefit as she came to stand alongside Ciara. “A united front is a fine thing. In this case, it won’t get you what you’re after. And if either of you ever leave the escort again, without my direct instruction, your horse will be tied to another. Is that understood?”

Neither of them responded.

“Love of the Goddess.” Bolin spun away with a growl.

Sully had stretched a picket line between two trees and had one of the mares tied off already. Bolin led Sandeen to the far end, tied him securely, then went to relieve Sully of his duties.

“Go meet the escort,” Bolin said.

Sully nodded, and left without a word. Things would be so much simpler if only Bolin could instill that kind of discipline in the two women who now trailed his moves, waiting for him to change his mind and answer their questions.

Now, on to ROW80 . . . I missed Sunday’s check-in. Weekends are nearly impossible for me. I’m always busy doing something that keeps me away from the computer. And though I did remember I needed to do a check-in, by the time I sat down (or stood at my desk, as the case may be) I just didn’t have the oomph to do much more than browse social media and gape at bright shiny things. Fine, I may have played a few rounds of Bubble Town as well. So what?

That being said, I’m so close to finishing the first draft of Emergence that I’m dang near giddy. It has a lot of problems. A. Lot. Many things I have to fix. Holes to fill in. Characters to further define. Relationships to exploit . . . er . . . explore and round out. I’m actually excited about doing it. Which I wasn’t for a while. But I’ve been mulling over some things — especially while painting the house — and I made some decisions which helped my enthusiasm level skyrocket. And those decisions mean I can still use the ending I had written way back when I only had a few chapters done.

My other ROW80 goal of working on Crossing Paths is also chugging along. Although I had a big writing spurt on The First House over the past week, as well as some serial planning. I think it’s going to be awesome. I’m pretty excited about that as well.

Hmmm. . . seems on the writing front I’m excited about a lot. Feels good. I’d been in a funk far too often. It’s more fun being tormented by the muses when I’m actually enjoying their escapades.

 

 

Fundraiser for Fellow Author Lauralynn Elliott

A while back via ROW80, I learned about the plight of fellow author Lauralynn Elliott. The original post is here. Please go read it. There are many ways you can help. Even if all you can do is spread the word. The marvelous Kait Nolan has set up a fantabulous Giveaway Fundraiser which myself and other authors have contributed prizes to. You can find the details at the above link, but here is a quick glance at the prize packages available:

• Kait Nolan: paperbacks of Genesis, Red, and Magical Mayhem
• Kait Nolan: any of her ebooks
• Susan Bischoff: paperbacksHush Money, Heroes Til Curfew
• Susan Bischoff ebook bundle of Hush Money, Heroes Til Curfew
• Tia Bach: 2 signed paperback copies of Depression Cookies
• Buffy Greentree: ebook: The Five Day Writer’s Retreat: Preparing for a Lifestyle of Writing
• Beth Camp: paperbackThe Mermaid Quilt and Other Tales
• Michelle De Paepe: paperback of Eaters (zombie apocalypse), ebook copies of The Gardner (paranormal fiction), Vampire Music (YA PR)
• Sharon Gerlach: paperback of any one of her books; any of her ebooks
• Janet Parfitt: for the Brits: ebooks Blood Addiction, Butterflies, Numerology for Daily Life
• J. R. Pearse Nelson: ebook Queen Witch
• K. L. Schwengel: signed paperbacks of Witch Hunt anthology and First of Her Kind
• Deborah Gafford 10 copies of any of her books.

There’s some good reading here, folks, and everyone who contributes will be enetered into the drawing to win. I believe you can even list which prize pack you’re interested in. So please, spread the word, and stop by the links above and see how you can help.

 

 

 

A WIPpet Announcement & Mid-Week ROW80 Update

WIPpet Wednesday. I love these days. I get to share a bit of my current WIP, and then make the rounds and get a peak at all the other ones as well. I’m learning from the other WIPpeteers and getting creative with the date. Since it is 5/8, I’m going to give you 13 paragraphs (because 8 didn’t end at a good spot) of the current episode of The First House.

*hums to self while gazing casually about the room waiting for someone to notice*

In case you missed it, I just officially tag-lined the nonWIP WIP, thus embracing it as my third WIP. I’ll wait while you alternately pick yourself up off the floor, and/or stop cheering.

*blinks at the ceiling* Hmmm . . . guess I’m the only one that fell over.

Continuing on: I’ve decided to try something new (thanks to Sage of the South, I owe ya one, pal.) I’m going to serialize The First House. I’m still working out the details in my head, but I believe I’ll be creating some illustrations for each installment as well. Just some pencil sketches to sweeten the pot, as it were.

(A quick question. How many here know the acronym KISS? Yeah. Well, obviously I have a little problem with that, don’t I?)

I’m still working on a title for this particular tale. The First House will encompass all the brothers’ antics. Yes, there are more planned. I even have scenes written for some. Yes, I’m hopeless. (See above.) This first exploit (which you’ve been seeing for several weeks now) serves as an introduction to the royal brothers and revolves around their quest to recover the missing stone — yes, still working out what exactly that is. I also need to decide how to pace the installments, how to offer them, and whether I’ll provide them as I write them, or finish the entire piece first. (It’s up to 15k at the moment.) Right now I’m leaning toward two per month, as I write them. There are plenty of other details I need to sort through first. I’m sure a visit to a shrink is in order; I’m just not sure I can find the time. I also harbor serious doubts said shrink could offer me any help.

So, without further ado, the last bit of The First House: ??? you’ll see until decisions are made. This picks up where last week’s left off.

Grady stood beside the horses, feet planted, one hand resting on the pommel of his long sword, one on the dagger at his other hip. Four riders had stopped several strides from him. Their leather armor had been tooled with an intricate pattern of swirls and what looked like stars. All were well-armed with an assortment of short swords and knives. One man, larger than Grady, and sprouting more facial hair than any man Quinn had ever seen, had an axe strapped across his back.

“Ah, the crown prince, is it?” One of the riders, the one with an edging of gold along the collar of his leather jerkin that screamed ‘leader’, nudged his horse a step or two in front of the others. He had a thin, pinched face with a nose like a hawk’s beak, and sharp eyes under bristling brows. A neatly trimmed beard and mustache encircled his thin lips.

“And you would be?” Grady asked, a growl in his voice. As soon as the rider had moved, he had shifted to the left to keep himself between the men and Quinn.

The rider flicked a glance his way, then back to Quinn. “You’re a long way from home, boy.”

Quinn smiled and stepped up next to his brother. “That we are, sir. But, then again, I like to think of all Shadonn as my home.”

“So you shit anywhere you please then?”

Grady looked over at Quinn. “I don’t much like this fella.”

“He does seem to have a burr under his saddle, doesn’t he?” Quinn said.

“Plus, I’ve actually never known you to run around shitting all over the house, and I’ve known you my entire life.”

“That is a fact, brother.” Quinn put more charm into his smile. “I sense a certain hostility from you, sir. I don’t believe we’ve ever met so I’m confused as to its nature. Have I wronged you in some way? Offended you?”

“Offended your sister?” Grady offered. Quinn glanced at him and Grady shrugged. “One never knows. We passed through quite a number of towns and there were a few women . . .”

Quinn sighed, and shook his head. “I swear, Grade, if you’ve gone and done something I’m going to have to fix again –”

“Me? It’s you he seems to have an issue with. He hasn’t spared me but a glance. The nervous one on the end is worried there’s someone behind him –” That rider jerked his head forward and glowered but then resumed twitching looks over his shoulder. “– the other one is staring at this guy’s back as though waiting for a signal of some sort. The only one paying any attention to me is that big fella with the axe. I think he’s waiting for me to draw on him. And I’m fairly certain, if his sister looks anything like him, I’ve never touched her.”

So there you have it. Check out the other WIPpeteers to see what adventures they’ve got cooking.

As for ROW80, I’m rather boring. No change since Sunday.

Let’s Be Honest and a ROW80 Check-In

I didn’t give myself too many goals for this round of ROW80 — basically two: Finish the first draft of Emergence and get a good jump on Crossing Paths.

• Emergence is now up to roughly 80k of my 110k target. I’m feeling pretty confident on getting to The End by the middle of June. Then, editing.
• Because of #1 and that being my priority, I haven’t spent a lot of time on Crossing Paths. I’ve got about 11k written and haven’t visited Rainie and Ethan as much as I would like because . . .
•  . . . the nonWIP WIP is up to a little over 12k and I can’t seem to leave it alone. The brothers are being very bad. (Quiet, ReGi!   ) I’m trying what to decide to do with it. Not because I *want* to, mind, but because the muses are obviously insisting. I really have no idea where it’s going. It just goes. I’ve given the boys free rein and they’ve taken it, damn them.

I’d have to look, but I believe one of my goals was to write every day. So far I’ve been doing pretty good there. However, now that the weather has gotten nice, it’s time to paint the house. The house is in serious need of paint. Has been since we bought it. I was all for paying someone to do it, the price being well-worth it considering I’m very jealous of my “free” time. They hubby, however, has decided we will tackle it ourselves. Grrrrrrr So, between that and the dogs and their schedule, I’m scraping for writing time. Breaks at work, getting up early on weekends, foregoing the couch and reading — I’ll make it work.

And, since I’ve got your ear (or eyes) let’s take a look at #7 on the list of Writerly Virtues by Chuck Wendig that I’ve been exploring: Honesty.

Writers are liars who use those lies to tell truths.  ~Chuck Wendig

Agree, or disagree? As a writer we make stuff up, constantly. Is telling tales a form of lying?

For writers, and anyone pursuing any goal, I link Honesty with being Realistic. You have to be honest with yourself about your goals, how hard you’re willing to work toward them, and (the hardest part) how good you are. If you suck, and you know, don’t be afraid to show it! Oops, sorry, I spent a year in grade school as a cheerleader and those sort of rhymes were common fare. And before you go off on a tangent with that tasty morsel of my past, I was *only* a cheerleader because there weren’t any girl sport teams. It was a very small school with barely enough boys to make a basketball team and in that day, no such thing as co-ed sports.

You don’t need to flaunt the fact you suck, but you do need to be honest about it. Does that mean you give up? Hells no!! You get better. You practice, you learn, you try (sticktoitiveness), you work at your craft until you get better. And once you’re better? You KEEP WORKING AT IT because once you decide you’ve got nothing more to learn, you’re going to find out you do.

You need to be Honest about the ‘why’ as well, because that changes all the other aspects. Do you want whatever ‘it’ is for fame and fortune? For someone else? To be accepted? To be one of the in-crowd? Or do you want it for you? Because it feeds your soul. Because it is a Need, not a want, not a desire, a need like oxygen?

Sticking With It

There is a fine line between persistence and stupidity. You know, if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again? And again. And . . . doesn’t there come a time when trying isn’t getting it done, and it’s time to throw in the towel? Well, that depends. If you’re trying the same thing over and over, expecting different results . . . Hello! Isn’t that the definition of insanity?

Okay, granted, writers have to be a touch insane. Think about it. We work in solitude, actually paying attention to the voices in our heads. The many, many, MANY voices. Whole worlds exist in the ethereal brain matter, that elusive bit of us called the imagination. Of course we’re freaking insane.

That doesn’t mean we can’t learn from our mistakes.

So, back to the actual topic here: #6 on the Master List is Sticktoitiveness. No, I didn’t make that word up. To succeed at many things in life means you need to be comfortable with running into obstacles, getting up, trying again. Even if you run into another one. But, please, try another spot, or a new bucket on your head, because otherwise — *see above* If you can’t stick with something and see it through the rough patches, then either you don’t want it badly enough, or you don’t really want it at all. Nothing wrong with that. Admitting and letting go are great traits, and can free you to pursue that which you do want.

Just remember the fine line. Seriously. Some people say you can’t push a rope. I say, get it wet, freeze it, then push the damn rope. It can be done, you just have to stick with it and find a way.

Okay, I’m off to write now. Don’t forget the giveaways for First of Her Kind at: Lightly Salted is hosting one, the other involves an Evil Villian Contest.