Self-Discovery is an Evil Thing

I just took time out to read my awesome crit partner Heather Howland’s latest blog entry on the world of YA.

Not sure if I should laugh or cry. It was amazing. It was detailed. It was spot on.

It was bloody horrifying.

It was me.

I have Adult Romance Writer’s Disease.

My latest manuscript Confession was supposed to be my foray into the world of young adult romance. And while I was aware of the YA rules vaguely, I was convinced that a few could be bent enough to allow my hopelessly obvious adult romance voice to fit my diligently constructed YA characters.

The Problem? The industry is already on to me before my pen even hit the paper. My premise and characters are gloriously YA, but my details, situations, reactions, and heat level are all taboo.

Translation: Slush Pile

Dear God they can take my life but my sexual tension is freakin’ sacred.

So huge changes are on the horizon, and I’m praying that writing the book that’s in my heart doesn’t mean that it never actually makes it on the shelf.

Anti-New Years Resolution

I’m about three weeks late for a new years resolution. I never remember to make one on January 1st. I like to think it’s because it’s my birthday and who wants to lie to themselves on their own birthday? I usually get around to it a few days later and by March its a distant memory.

But there are some things I want to accomplish in my life this year though calling them resolutions seems like asking for trouble. Treating my writing with the respect it deserves is one. And making realistic goals for myself instead of the “I’m pumped at the moment so I’ll claim I’ll devote 50 bajillion hours (yes bajillion) to the cause” approach.

So my anti resolution is to be true to my craft and easy on the stress that tends to make finished manuscripts look like pipe dreams.

Recipe for Disaster

Don’t say I never gave you anything.

Start with not accomplishing any of your errands set for the day. Follow closely with
witnessing felonies committed on a friend and neighbor reaffirming your
status as a victim in your own city.

Then have a REALLY bad day at work, complete with calls from the mother of your tutee who has just failed his final. You know the student you gave up your entire memorial day weekend to tutor at standard price. Yeah that one.

On your way home have your car die in one of the busiest streets in Detroit. At night. Alone. With your phone dying.

Dodge traffic while waiting for tow truck, only to partake in an arguement about absolutely NOTHING with family members all the way home (going at a snail’s pace insuring that you miss all of your other scheduled activities of course).

Crawl into a corner to hide with netbook in a last ditch attempt to write ANYTHING for today’s wordcount and develop a migraine that sufficiently crushes the rest of your spirit.

Simmer on low heat then cool and serve.

Enlisted

So a lot has happened since I skipped across the stage a few weeks ago. I’ve officially started writing as a career and let me just say hats off to all of you who have been at it this long.  Becoming a novelist is not for the faint of heart and I’m beginning to realize that some superpowers and cashing in a few miracles wouldn’t hurt either.

My first step is joining the June bootcamp at SavvyAuthors to get into the habit of lighting a fire under my butt even on the worst of writing days.  My second step had me tripping over my own two feet and crashing over a cliff.  I’ve turned my fledgling manuscript Confession into a YA.  Those who don’t know me are shrugging I’m sure. Those who do are probably trying to keep in their snorts of laughter.  Let’s just say that Young Adult is something I’d never thought I’d find myself doing, but long as I’m leaping into the abyss I’m relieved to have joined up with five fantastic novelists who can make sure I don’t go splat at the bottom. The Angst Army is holding their own in SavvyAuthor’s awesome word count bootcamp competition and I’m learning more than I ever dreamed.

Confession is 4000 words and counting. Somebody toss me a parachute.

Done to Death

I think my obsession with originality has finally become a problem. Well finally a problem for me at least, which lets be honest all that matters.  Ideas for my novel series The Ashes have been in the making since I started down this bumpy artist road, but they have morphed and changed so much that a year or so ago I probably wouldn’t even recognize my own story.  My problem seems to lie in that I want something completely original. Something drop your jaw, start a fanpage, call a friend to read it a second/third/hundredth time original.

And before you think I’ve completely lost my mind, I do realize just how near impossible this is.  I do know I’m grasping at straws and looking for the holy grail of romances. As I’ve been told countless times before all story ideas have been done before, but I can’t seem to get the little perfectionist that is my writer’s soul to take this to heart.  This couldn’t be more true than in paranormal romance.

Boy can I pick a genre.  I honestly feel bad for anyone who has a fabulous vampire or werewolf idea because it’ll probably get lumped in with the rest of the mediocrity that’s being released to cash in on the “fad”.

So I guess my dream book would be:

Fascinating, fresh, and addicting

Not immediately compared to the rage of the moment

Filled with characters that leap off the page and into hearts

Taking place in a paranormal world that writers would squeal/weep over (either is acceptable) and readers would dream about.

Ya know the usual.  ::rolls eyes::

Portfolio Shmortfolio!

Yes I may have regressed a few years. Or decades lol. My practicum portfolio is currently all that stands between me and my Master’s degree. One speedbump. It might sound like the homestretch, if that speedbump wasn’t the size of Everest.While whining about the injustice of it all won’t actually get my paper written any faster, it feels damn good to do something else (anything else) besides research. Two weeks until I kiss my 4.0 goodbye lol.

Do you think my director would notice if I “word sprinted” the rest of my report?

Procrastinators Unite Tomorrow!!

Have class or be an a**?

Is it just me or are people getting more aggravating?  Now this isn’t a rant, just  an observation from someone destined to encounter quite a few of these jokers. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you that arrogance is my pet peeve. (Not roll your eyes pet peeve, but grit your teeth, clench your fists, fight the urge to say something offensive kind of pet peeve.) Luckily I haven’t ran into many of these people since I’ve started writing full time, unfortunately I have plenty of friends who have. I don’t claim to have any special wisdom but there are really only two ways to react to the people who seem to live to make your day just a little bit crappier: Have class or be an a**.  And while I might crave ripping some deserving schmuck to shreds  it just isn’t worth it in the end.  Resist the urge for yourself

So Alex, LizP, La’Keysha and others dealing with less than desirable people please remember:

“Never argue with an idiot. They’ll drag you down to their level, then beat you with experience.”

It can get ugly. The last time I forgot that it ended with yelling, sirens, a moving van, and cops dragging my boyfriend out of work to come “help with his girlfriend”. Like I said ugly.

Who needs November?

For the past two years I’ve adored National Novel Writers Month in November. Adored it and been too busy with finals to do anything productive in the 31 days worth mentioning. My rough rough draft sits unloved on my computer daily as I add a measly few hundred words whenever I get inspired, meanwhile aspiring writers churn out entire drafts in a few weeks time.  This particular manuscript has me so tied up in knots that I spend more time worrying about it not being good than actually making sure it is.  Before going through months of revision hell I have to get the thing on paper.  So by May 1st come hell, high water, or writer’s block this thing will be out of my head. I’ll have plenty of time to make it understandable to actual human beings later.

Muse with Commitment Issues

So my muse, who shows the hell up whenever he damn well feels like it, has decided he has commitment issues. Not to me. I’m stuck with the gorgeous wise ass for eternity, but it’s my plot he seems to have problems forming a meaningful relationship with. Just when I capture one plot bunny on paper he decides he has a better idea and off I go in another direction after a plot bunny I didn’t even know existed.

The Ashes series has been in the works Forfreakinever and after a weekend trip of artistic inspiration he is whispering that dreaded word in my ear. Doesn’t matter that he’s doing it in the sexy bedroom voice that makes me crumble. It’s still a pain in the ass. Rehaul. UGH.

“Just rehaul the plot sweetheart.”

“Wh-WHAT?!”

“You know you want to. . .”

“The HELL I DO!”

“It’ll be spectacular. I promise.”

“Sonofa”

His solution to writer’s block? Write EVERYTHING. And that’s how I’ve ended up chasing every plot bunny that crosses my path. Making a long road even longer. But according to him a hell of a lot more interesting.

God I hate it when he’s right.

Second thoughts. . . and third, and fourth and. . .

The only bad thing about making sweeping declarations about devoting your life to art has got to be the follow through lol. Years of pining away just wishing for extra time to devote to my manuscript (ok not THAT many years since I’m only 25 but you get the idea) and now that I have it I can’t help but feel overwhelmed. My life has always been about finding time to write. Now it’s ALL about writing. The excuses are gone and the dream is in reach. Do I have what it takes?