MIA

*Gack*  I missed my Sunday ROW80 update, and think I’ve been listed as MIA in most of the social networking arenas I (used to) frequent.  I breeze in, peek around, and scoot out – usually without comment.  It’s the age old adage about not having enough hours in the day.  Truth is, there would be plenty of hours in the day if I didn’t have to spend 9 ½ of them at The Job.  I’m not whining (not really), because in this day and age, I’m grateful to have The Job.  Without it, I wouldn’t have all the other things I have.  But it also means the hours I have outside of it are precious.

And I’ve been obsessed with BD&L.  Need.  To.  Finish.

Plus, lambing will be starting soon.  No, that’s not some weird writing ritual.  And with nicer weather, I get to work the dogs more often.  Not that the weather has been totally cooperative, but when it is, everything else gets shoved till later.  That’s a big part of my life.  If you have no clue what I’m talking about, visit my other blog at Shadowdance Farm.  A blog, also sorely neglected.  *sigh*

So, where am I on BD&L?  So glad you asked. *please note dripping sarcasm*   I’m seeking medical attention for the flat spot I’ve developed from my forehead repeatedly meeting the surface of my desk.  Good thing I have a hard head.  It could be a lot worse.  As it is, I probably need to replace my desk as well.  Meaning. . . ???

Meaning I’m still in flounder mode over the changes I’ve made.  But, thanks to input from my readers *waves and blows kisses* I may finally be getting through it.  A POV switch was suggested.  I explored that more yesterday and decided to go with it.  That will also help fill in some of the gaps from the last time we saw this character.

When not fighting my way through that, my muse has been tossing random scenes and characters at me in a most chaotic fashion.  I’ve been forced to write them down.  Ignoring them just causes problems.  They pester me until they are on paper, figuratively speaking.  But their pestering has had me pounding out well over 1,000 words a day — which, if nothing else, is good exercise for the writing muscles.  One piece, in particular, will either turn into a short story or novella.  I like it, and the characters, I’m a bit stuck on a certain point, but really haven’t given it a lot of attention.  I might post it here as it progresses.  Rough draft.  A freebie for those interested.

And that’s it.  Check out my fellow ROW80‘ers here.                        Write on!

Ripples in the Pond

This is me.  Not literally, but certainly figuratively.  And I’m thinking it’s a good thing I have *a lot* of hair.  Otherwise I would be bald.

Let me just say, overall, I don’t mind editing.  I’m a putzer and a tweeker, and editing allows me to do that under the auspices of something grander.  I can rearrange sentence structure, hunt for new words, play with pacing, and all manner of other fun stuff that doesn’t happen <cough> while in the throws of the first draft.

However — and you knew there was going to be a ‘however’ — during the course of this editing, and at the insistent pushing of the Sage of the South, I rewrote a scene.  The fact the scene needed the revamping is indisputable.  It hovered on being ‘just okay’ when it could have been so much more than that.  It lacked the real tension and gritty realism the events called for.  So I hammered, slaved, tried, failed, tried again, consumed wine and food in a glorious girl’s night, tried again the next morning, and aced it.  Awesome!  <happy dance, happy dance>

There are many sayings about one change, no matter how small, affecting many other things — ripples spreading outwards from the pebble thrown into the pond.  That’s why, to me, time travel is such a conundrum of a thing.  Think about it.  You go back 1000 years and accidentally step on a butterfly and, through some warped chain of events, ten other things fail to occur.  That affects twenty more, and so on until the whole fabric of reality is frayed, and it turns out the time machine was never invented in the first place, but then how did you get back in time to step on the damned butterfly?!!?

<clears throat>  Sorry, all this hair pulling has severely stressed the grey matter.  As I was saying…this change I made really is for the better, except for the damn ripple effect.  Not only did it push my MC further than intended, it forced me to bring out the kindler, gentler side of her co-MC.  He wasn’t supposed to show that side of himself, except for bits and pieces, until closer to the end of the book and then only barely.  He’s not comfortable being kind and gentle.  As the Sage put it, the co-MC wears an Ass Hat.  He can’t help it.  It’s who he is.  As readers, you’ll either understand that and accept him, or totally hate him.

Anyhow, that means I now need to rewrite several — did I say several? — scenes immediately following the fateful change.  Which, by direct correlation, has me mimicking the photo above.  Why?  Because the aforementioned character has to, absolutely, positively, no arguments allowed, HAS TO, put his Ass Hat back on.  But the MC also needs to deal with the new events in a believable and consistent manner.  And the trickle down will work its way through the entire plot, right up to the end of the book and into the next.

<huge sigh>  The trickle down, I can deal with.  The scene immediately following THE SCENE, can I just say, “AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

And that, folks, is my mid-week ROW80 Check-In.  Join the ROW80 Blog Hop here.

And have a nice day.  <head, desk, head, desk, head, desk>

 

Making Adjustments

The post I had scheduled for Friday got eaten.  Which sounds a whole lot like the age old excuse, “The dog ate my homework.”  Well, in this case, cyberspace ate my post.  And I didn’t have the time, or quite honestly the inclination, to re-write it.  I finally need to admit that while I am in the throws of editing BD&L, the blog will suffer.  There is only so much brain power I possess and spreading it thin is a bad idea.  Really bad.  Think cataclysmic disaster of epic proportions.

These were my original ROW80 Goals:

• 2k per day which would put me easily through the first draft of the second BD&L book (I might have to adjust that to 1500 given my schedule but I’ll push for 2k)
• If I get stuck on BD&L2, I must dedicate those words to short stories or flash fiction
• Two regular blog posts per week (Monday & Friday) plus ROW80 updates on Sunday & Wednesday
• Print out a hard copy and line edit BD&L when it returns from my beta
• X number of queries per week once it’s ready to go (I haven’t decided on that number yet)

Here are my Adjusted Goals:

• Finish editing BD&L
• Regular ROW80 updates to the blog on Sunday & Wednesday
• Other additions to blog as they occur to me and when I have the time/brain capacity to do them justice.

And, of course, interspersed within those are the other things known as My Life.  They include things I am obligated to do, and things which I *need* to do for the sake of my sanity (okay, so that one may already be a lost cause) and my soul’s well-being.

Write on!

Of Taun-tauns and Editing

There’s a scene in The Empire Strikes Back where Han Solo cuts open a Taun-taun to stuff Luke into it and by doing so, save his life.  At one point, Han drapes himself across the beast, his efforts exhausting him, and proclaims, “And I thought they smelled bad from the outside!”

That’s exactly how I feel about this editing phase.

There I am, draped across my manuscript, proclaiming, “And I thought this was hard on the writing side!”

And it was.  But it was also fun.  I could just let the words flow, let the characters run rampant and do what they may, giggling insanely when they did something clever, cussing like a sailor when they did something unexpected and left me to deal with the mess.  I didn’t give a fig for how my sentences were structured, how many nasty adverbs snuck into my prose, or the fact that I used the same phrase or word six times in one paragraph.  It didn’t matter.  All that mattered was getting the story down.  Start to finish.

Then came the re-writing, which was still fun because I got to flesh out some scenes, add others, fine tune my characters and my plot and make the story grow.

Then some more re-writing.  The fun began to wear thin.  I’m not sure how many “re-writes” there were.  I didn’t keep track.  But finally, finally, I thought I was close to being done.  For real.

Then. . . . <cue music> light saber, Taun-taun, guts spilling out in a stinky pile.  Too many adverbs.  Too many statives.  Don’t you know how to use a comma correctly?  How many times can you repeat the same word in one paragraph? Do you not own a Thesaurus?  Try opening it once, will ya?   Weasel words, running rampant, whack them!  Whack them all!  See this?  This is your favorite sentence in the whole work.  You thought it witty, or poignant, or sublime, and felt positive everyone would remember this one line, if nothing else.  Trash it.  It doesn’t work.  It’s gratuitous, and flowery, and full of nothing but your ego.  Kiss it goodbye.

Eep!

But, when the sun rose, Han waved in the rescuers and all was good.

And, when the sun rises on the other side of this editing, I’ll be popping a cork.  Not only to celebrate its completion, but to rejoice in the fruits of my labor when I realize where it started and what it’s become.

I have my very first, very rough draft.  I plan on reading it when I’m completely finished.  It will, most likely, throw me into fits of hysteria.

So, ROW80  goals?  Still pretty much on target with where I was Sunday.  Check out all the other ROW80 participants on the ROW80 Blog Hop.

Write on!

Hocus-Pocus and Bippity-Boppity-Boo

Too Many Cooks ~ copywrite K. L. Schwengel

As a reader, one of the things that turns me off is gratuitous magic with little structure and no consequences.  (The same holds true of sci fi with science that just doesn’t ring true.)

As a writer, my magic system is regulated, not frivolous, and has a cost.  Several of my readers have commented on, and thanked me for, making magic something other than what I’ll describe below.

And what I describe is why fantasy sometimes gets a bad rap  –  magic that is free for the taking, and can get the characters out of any situation at any moment, or is used for mundane, daily chores like lighting fires, dressing, or preparing food.  (Yes, one of my characters does use her magic to light a fire, but only out of necessity, not as the norm.)   If the characters get into a prickly situation, a wave of the wand later, they’re on to their next adventure.

That’s a bit of a lazy approach, if you ask me.  But, if the writing is good, the characters sympathetic, and the plot engaging – well, more power to you.  Maybe then it just doesn’t matter.

I, however, think it does matter.  Hopefully my readers will as well.

For an example of easy magic, let’s look at the esteemed fantasy healer.  Here’s a familiar  scenario:  The main character takes an injury, there’s no time in the plot for him to heal in a natural manner, so call in the healer and botta-boom, botta-bing he’s on to the next scene, none the worse for wear.

Awesome.  *yawn*

C’mon, people!  If it were that easy, there wouldn’t be much risk involved in facing off the bad guy or slaying the dragon, would there?  Just haul along a healer, and get yourself pumped up with some Fix-a-Flat, and you’re good as new.  Where’s the tension in that?  And tension is one thing that keeps your reader doing the thing which we writers desire most.  It keeps them turning the page, keeps them coming back to our books and reading.

So, for the sake of argument, let’s say healing takes a toll on both the healer and the patient.  Why would it, you ask?  Simple.  The healer must expend energy, must take some of the patient’s pain into themselves, must exert themselves to try (notice, I said ‘try’) and heal their patient.  And why should this also drain the recipient?  Because it’s not the natural way for a body to mend itself, that’s why.  Because the body has still suffered an injury, lost blood, been shocked and traumatized.  Unless your healer also does a bit of time travel to the point before the injury (and wouldn’t that be an interesting concept to explore…), all that bodily abuse still exists, and still has an effect.  There have to be ramifications.

Which is, of course, just my humble opinion.

I like to think of magic like exercise.  Did a bunch of you just say, “Ugh.”  I know I did.  Why?  Besides the fact exercise is important, and most of us don’t get as much as we should, I’m going to bet your response was due to the fact that exercise is hard and demands a price.  That’s how magic should be.  Think of someone with a lot of magic as a prime athlete.  For them, the small spells equal ten push-ups.  Piece of cake, they don’t even break a sweat doing it.  A larger spell might equal 100 push-ups; harder, still doable, but it’s going to take some work, and when they’re done, they may need to rest for a while before doing more.  A really big spell might equal a bunch of push-ups, some squats, and – well, add in some other physical exertions.  Holy crap!  Our athlete can do it, because they’ve trained and prepared, but it takes a lot of effort and they’ll need to rest when they’re finished.  Obviously a lesser magic wielder would have problems with even the 10 push-ups.  (That would be me, if anyone’s wondering.)

The bottom line?  Just because it’s magic doesn’t mean it should be an easy out.  If your story is all about easy, I doubt it’s very interesting.  Give your magic some boundaries, some rules and consequences.  Then see what happens!

Next up:  Here, there be monsters.

Write on!

Another Award & ROW80 Update

A big Thank You to J M McDowell for handing me this:

Those who know me best would argue that I am not who they think of in connection with anything having to do with “Sunshine”.  As it usually denotes cheery, outgoing, happy, etc.  Not that I’m a grumpy, unhappy, introvert.  Okay, fine, I am an introvert, or perhaps just reserved with strangers (as is my chosen breed of dog).  In any case, I thank JM for the award and will add it to my list and try to do it honor.

As I’m way behind in several awards I swear to pass them along this week.  Honestly, I will.  So if I visit your blog, just remember, you could be next in receiving one of these awesome badges. 

As for my ROW80 update:  Still on track with the editing/revising.  In fact my reader should be the happy recipient of revised pages very shortly — this weekend perhaps (Oh, great Sage of the South, you thought you had escaped me!  Bwa-ha-ha ha!).

Blog posts – yes, Satan needs to run out and buy a jacket – I’m two ahead of myself!  Unreal.  Well, at least for *this* blog.  I contribute to the IMPire (and you really need to go visit if you haven’t) so need to send something their way, and my Farm/Dog blog is behind as well.

And, I do write every day.  Mostly on the above mentioned editing/revising, but occasionally on little sniglets of other things.  Hmm, maybe should post a fresh one of those, since I haven’t in a while.  Oh, and I’ll hopefully have an entry in Devin O’Branagan’s Flash Fiction contest — missed the past two months on that.  Stop in and check it out.  Anyone can enter.   Rules are at the link.

So, there we have it.  And here you have the link to all the other ROW80 participants.  Now, go write something!

Write on!

Setting the Record Straight

“You write fantasy?  Well, you have it easy then.  You can just make everything up!”

Yes, someone actually said that to me.  To which I responded, “Huh?!!?”

I know, eloquent, hey?

Well, sure, those of us who write fantasy do make up a lot of things.  We create whole worlds for our characters to inhabit.  But easy?  Seriously?  Have you ever tried to create a world from scratch?

Worldbuilding is exactly that.  Building.  A.  World.  The whole world.  Which means there’s a lot more to it than setting a scene.   To draw the reader in and hold them – give them their moment of suspended disbelief –  our worlds must be believable, and consistent. They have history and culture, languages, social structures, food, clothing, artifacts – in short, everything the real world has.  A lot of that information never makes it directly to the reader, but that isn’t the point.  It shapes our characters.  How they react to the situations they’re put into is impacted by their environment and culture and if we, as writers, don’t know those details how the heck are we, as readers, going to care?  To ensure our characters talk and act in a true manner, the world they exist in must have rules and boundaries.

And it must be consistent.

Oh, did I say that already?  Well, I’m saying it again.  If it’s commonplace for inhabitants of Aquinius to be able to walk on water, and suddenly in the heat of a chase scene they can’t get across a lake because not doing so builds tension, there’s a problem.  Caveat alert:  If that scenario is part of the plot, if there’s something different about this lake that prevents the inhabitants of Aquinius from walking across it, and they need to discover the secret, then there’s a reason for it.  Otherwise, walking on water is commonplace for all inhabitants and must remain so.  End of discussion.

So, yeah, we make stuff up.  A lot of stuff.  A lot more than the reader may realize.

And why?  Depth.  Believability.  Escapism.

After all, would you rather spend your time in a world rich in culture and history, where things feel real?  Or one where you’re surrounded  by hazy details and superficiality?

Me?  I’m going for the big plunge.  Make me believe this world does exist somewhere and these people are real because then I’ll care, and I won’t want to put that book down.  As an example, some of my all time favorite worlds are:  Middle Earth, Pern, and the section of Compact space in which dwell the Chanur clan.  How about you?  What worlds do you think have succeeded?  Or failed?

Next post:  A look at magic in fantasy.

Write on!

Wednesday Check-in

Are you sitting?  I’m actually writing this Tuesday evening, and scheduling it to publish Wednesday morning, instead of frantically penning something Wednesday at the day job.  On break, of course.  *cough, cough*

Just a quick mid-week update on ROW80 goals — no change from Sunday.  Except that I actually have a few ideas for blog posts.  Again, ahead of time.  I’ll blame part of my lethargy of late on a nasty cold courtesy of the husband.  Nothing worse than trying to think and be organized when your head feels as though it’s been stuffed in a bucket.  Then comes the coughing and hacking and attack of the mucus.  Fun stuff.  And when I thought it had left, it was back for more.  It’s still lingering and really starting to annoy me, but I think its grip is loosening and I’m about to kick it to the curb.

If you missed Monday’s  guest post, please give it a look.  Author J. A. Campbell wrote a special short story involving Doc, the Vampire hunting Border Collie.

ROW80 Blog Hop is here.

Write on!

Guest Post with J. A. Campbell

Today I turn my blog over to fellow writer, Julie Campbell.  Julie has written a special story just for this occasion featuring Doc, the vampire hunting Border Collie.  I think you’ll enjoy it.

Julie writes fantasy novels. When she’s not out riding her horse, she can usually be found sitting in front of her computer with a cat on her lap and her dog at her side. You can find out more at www.writerjacampbell.com

You can enjoy some of Doc’s other stories free on Julie’s website:  Or check out Doc’s new novella at Amazon, Amazon UK, or Amazon UK ebook 

Now, on to Doc’s story. . .

Doc’s Dream Girl

I couldn’t believe it. I was finally going to meet her – the Border Collie of my dreams. Nelli. I held on to her name and savored it like the sweet gravy from dinner. I sat in the back of the car and quivered with excitement, trying to stay still when I really wanted to leap about in excitement. Not only was I going to meet Nelli, but I was going to herd sheep, and she’d be there. My lifts would be flawless, my flanks perfection. I would use my eye and the sheep would obey and she would see how talented I was. It would be love – and sheep. Canine perfection.

Kevin turned the car down a dirt road. I tilted my head, staring out the window. I thought I recognized the road. It seemed like we were heading to our old home in the country, though why a herding trial would be there, I had no idea. I whined, confused.

“Easy Doc,” Kevin said. “We’ll be there soon. I know you’re anxious.”

I thumped my tail. If my human said it was okay, then it would be.

Eventually the car stopped in a grassy field with many other cars. Kevin let me out and I bounded around in a circle, unable to contain my joy.

He laughed. “Come here, Doc. You have to wear your leash.”

I flattened my ears, but let him attach the leash. He handed me the end and I held it, following my human closely while we headed toward the other dogs, and humans, and the sheep. I sniffed and looked around, anxious for a glimpse of my love. She wouldn’t know me yet, so I’d have to prove myself worthy of her attentions out on the course. Then I’d introduce myself. I had my plan all worked out.

My human talked to some people, but I had eyes only for the other dogs. I wanted to find her, wanted to know she was watching me when I worked. There – I studied one dog, but she wasn’t quite right. No… there. That was her. There was no doubt in my mind. She was perfect. Her white was vibrant and showed no dirt, though I knew she’d already been working. The black of her coat shimmered in the sunlight and the curve of her tail was perfect. Her gaze was intense as she stared out over the field, watching other dogs as they worked the sheep.

“Doc, you’re drooling. Did you find her?”

I glanced up at Kevin and thumped my tail on the ground before going back to staring at Nelli.

“Eh, what’s that?”

“Oh, my dog has a thing for Nelli, one of the champion trial dogs that’s here today.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s a good dog. Wait, you said your dog has a thing for her? Has he met her before?” The human sounded confused.

“No, he watches her on TV.” Kevin said this last slowly, as if realizing something odd about what he’d said.

“Eh?”

“Never mind. Thank you sir.”

“Yep, luck to ya.”

“Come on, Doc.”

I followed, though most of my attention was still on Nelli.

“Want to meet her now, or later?”

I wanted to show her I was worthy first so I led Kevin away.

He laughed. “All right. Hey, we’re up soon. Let’s go see the competition.”

I watched impatiently, studying the sheep and how they reacted, watching the course, and keeping one eye on Nelli. She watched all the dogs, looking disdainful when she wasn’t intently staring at the sheep.

“Okay, Doc. You ready?”

Kevin walked out onto the field and I followed, shaking with excitement and nerves. I hadn’t been to a trial in a long time, but I knew I could do this. If I could hunt vampires, a few sheep weren’t going to get the better of me. A small voice in my head commented on a certain squirrel, but I told it to shut up. Squirrels were more evil than vampires. Everyone knew that.

My human whistled softly and I perked my ears, creeping forward until Kevin told me to stop. He whistled again – I flanked. This was the close in course. In the afternoon we’d do distance work and then the top dogs would compete for the title. I had no hope of beating Nelli, but oh, if I could make it to the finals, I’d be worthy of her attention.

One of the sheep strayed a little. I focused and finished the course without fault. I thought I may have even finished it with style.

“That’ll do, Doc.”

I grinned and ran to Kevin’s side. He was smiling too. “Good job, boy. Now do you want to meet her?”

I sat next to the fence where I could keep an eye on my love, and watch the other dogs, but I didn’t let Kevin take me over to her. It wasn’t time yet. I did notice her watching me though, and unless I was wrong, there was interest in her eyes instead of contempt.

*          *          *

“That’ll do, Doc.”

I trotted up to Kevin’s side, tail flagged with pride. I’d made the finals, and while my last round wouldn’t beat Nelli’s flawless work, I was close. And I was ready to meet her.

“Now?”

I met his eyes and grinned. Now.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Come on, let’s find her.”

I’d only taken my eyes off of Nelli to work the sheep. I knew exactly where she was at, and I led Kevin to her, while trying to seem like I was following obediently.

Kevin laughed. He walked over to Nelli’s person and introduced himself. Since I’d done so well, her human was quite happy to talk to Kevin. I tuned them out and sat down next to Nelli. I still panted from my exertions but I thumped my tail to say hi.

She glanced at me and tilted her head. “Good work.”

My heart almost stopped. A compliment. From Nelli. My day couldn’t get any better.

“Thank you. You are amazing. I mean, your work is amazing. I’m Doc.”

“Nelli.” She smiled and went back to watching the sheep. I tried to do the same, to impress her with my desire to work, but all I could do was stare at her. She was even more perfect up close.

Finally she seemed to sense my attention. “I’ve never seen you at a trial before. Are you new?”

“No, but we moved to the city a few years ago. I haven’t been to any trials since then.”

She seemed surprised. “Then you did quite well.”

I took a deep breath, so happy at her praise. Then I wrinkled my nose and sniffed again. Was that a dead-thing? The smell of vampire was very distinct, dry, dusty and dead, but they only came out after dark. How could I smell one here? I whined, confused.

“Doc, what’s wrong?” My human knelt and scratched my ears.

I whined again and wished he understood my language as well as I understood his. I danced a little, the way I did when we were hunting and I smelled a vampire.

“Doc, be calm,” Nelli said.

“There’s a dead-thing here. A vampire. But they can’t go out during the day. I don’t understand.”

She frowned and tilted her head, clearly not understanding either.

“Doc, do you smell a vampire?” Kevin whispered.

I nodded, finally something I could communicate clearly.

He frowned. “That’s not possible.”

I flattened my ears and whined again.

“Well, obviously your human knows what you are talking about.” She sounded annoyed and my joyous mood evaporated. Why did the dead-things ruin everything.

“Let’s go look.” Kevin stood.

“Nelli, let’s go.” Her human said and strangely, they joined us. “I know where we can get some water for the dogs, Kevin.”

“Thanks Sonja.”

Strangely the direction Sonja led us in, was the direction the vampire smell was coming from. Nelli wrinkled her nose and stepped closer to me. She smelled it now too.

“What is that?”

“A vampire. They kill humans.”

“It smells dead.”

I nodded.

“We’re getting closer.” Nelli sounded concerned.

I whined.

Sonja stepped into a dark barn, and I wanted to tell her to stop. I barked once, but she didn’t listen.

Kevin gave me a concerned look, then reached under his jacket and drew out a wooden stake.

“Are we playing fetch now?” Nelli asked, sounding very confused.

“No. I will explain. Stay out here.” I crept forward, pushing past my human to protect him from the dead-things. It was dark but I could smell it, just ahead. I barked a warning to Sonja, but she turned and grinned at me.

“Time to die, Doc.”

I yelped in fear, but  Kevin seemed to figure out something was wrong with Sonja and he shoved her to the side. I leapt forward and hit the vampire in the chest with my feet, buying Kevin some time. He shoved Sonja outside and she screamed, burning up. I didn’t have time to watch because the other vampire threw me to the ground.

“Doc!” Nelli barked in alarm.

He was attacking her!

I sank my teeth into the vampire’s arm, ignoring the sour taste of its blood. It threw me off again and glared. I caught his eyes with my Border Collie eye and held him, though he struggled. Nelli had the stake in her teeth and she jumped, somehow plunging it into the dead-thing’s chest. It slumped, crumpling to ash on the ground.

Nelli turned to face me, her eyes triumphant. “We did it, Doc!”

I grinned at her then looked around for Kevin. I couldn’t find him in the barn so I ran outside, Nelli on my heels. She pushed herself against me when I stopped and licked my face.

“You’re a hero, Doc.”

My heart swelled and I wagged my tail. She licked me again.

“My hero.”

“Doc!”

I jerked my head up and looked around for Kevin.

“Doc! Come on, time to go.”

I whined and looked around. I couldn’t find him, but I could hear him. I looked back at Nelli, but she was gone too. The ground shook. I barked in alarm and jumped up.

“Doc, wake up. Come on, let’s go.”

I whined, confused, and looked around. There were no sheep, no vampires, no Nelli… only our park in the city. I flattened my ears and sighed.

“I think you were dreaming, buddy. Come on, let’s play some fetch and then head home.”

I perked up when Kevin showed me my ball, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. I dashed after it and thought I caught a glimpse of another Border Collie, dashing along beside me. But when I stopped to look, nothing was there.

Moving the Finish Line

There I was, sprinting toward the finish line, faster than a herd of turtles in a wind storm.  I could see it clearly.  Could almost touch it.  I just needed to dig deep and pull up the energy to make that final sprint.  Agent list is made and waiting, query is fine tuned, just need to finish the final edits and my novel would be ready to send out into the real world.  Death to adverbs and statives!  Put those commas in the right places!  (Wow, that almost sounds like the beginning of a Dr. Seuss-like poem. .  . hmmm)

I blinked.

What the — Someone moved the finish line!!  It was right there!  I swear!  And now it’s, well….further.

All because my very excellent reader pushed me to re-write a scene that, admittedly, was a bit flat.  So I unflattened it.  That pushed it into the ranks of something just a little bit higher than toilet paper.  I grumbled, I growled, I pulled large fist-fulls of hair out of my head and agonized.  The scene was giving me major fits.  So I got a fire going, literally, plunked my butt on the futon, cranked The Two Towers soundtrack and totally disassociated myself from the rest of the book.  I put the three players into the scene and let them loose to do as they please.  As usual, they did things I never saw coming.  Things I kept holding them back from because I knew what would happen if they had their way.

But the end product?  Well, it’s a vast improvement over the first.

It also changed events that can’t be overlooked.  My MC went and committed an act that will now force me to  re-think the entire rest of the book.  Not in a major way, just a big enough way that now editing has become a complicated mix of editing and revising.  My MC has some baggage to deal with now, and my other MC is going to have to show his softer side a whole lot sooner than planned.  The only one who benefits in a positive way, or so he thinks, if my antagonist, whom I believe is downright giddy over the whole event.  If “giddy” were an emotion he was at all familiar with.  Which he’s not.

So, where’s that leave me on my ROW80 goals?  Pretty much the same place I was on Wednesday.

• Not hitting 2k/day in favor of editing
• Not getting my Blog posts up regularly ~ although watch for a Guest Post from J. A. Campbell, author of Doc, Vampire-Hunting Dog
• Editing/revising/rewriting/regrowing the hair I’m pulling out, all for the love of my craft (or due to a slight bought of insanity.  But, really, are they all that different?)
• Querying, obviously tied to the above.  Not worried about that.  Anxious to get it out there but not if it can be better.

Write on!