No Regrets

Okay, so, every body has those days where they want to lay around and do nothing, right?

Well, this past two days have been those kinda days.

I've watched... two and a half seasons of Doctor Who during this time.

So.

Tomorrow I will have a Short Snippet Sunday up, I promise.

Merry Everything and Happy Always

Hey guys.

I apologize for my absence and begin with saying I have no real reason - no good reason, anyway - for my being gone.

I will, however, attempt to explain.

Hate me if you will, but that's what this post is.

First- December has always bee, and always will be, a lazy busy month for me.
      1.2- My new job at Wally World.
        During the Holidays, I began working 40+ hours a week. Doing my job, this is hell. Hell on my back, hell on my wrists, and hell on my personal well being and mental state.

        This started around Thanksgiving and only recently ended.

Second - Video Games. In this case, the Mass Effect trilogy. I started playing 1 in early December.

I finished with three less than an hour ago. I cried. Again. This was my second play through.

Side Note: If you are any kind of gamer; fantasy, shooter, plot-based, etc. you should check out these games.

The backstory, characterization, and gameplay are superb. The best I've seen, easily.

Also, I may or may not write an ME fanfic or two.

Third - Life. Seriously.

With work, the holidays, family and trying to find time to sleep, I barely had time to think, let alone sit and write. (Look at all the commas!)

I understand now why my parents never had time to do what they wanted when I was growing up. (Hell, they still don'e, what with my four younger siblings and nephew.) And I don't have kids. (And I won't for awhile, stop panicking, mother. I know you read this.)


So this is me officially reentering the real world. And by real, I mean the internet world. The writing world. And... nope, that's it.

My new years resolution? Less games, more writing. Also, eating better and maybe exercising some? I have weight I'd like to lose.

Typical resolutions, I know. And my boyfriend isn't helping. He's trying to introduce me to three or four new games...

*le sigh*

As my mother's Christmas card said, Merry Everything and Happy Always!
Since I missed the holidays.

How have you guys been?

Manic Monday?

Okay, so my Monday hasn't been THAT manic. But I forgot about the blog/had nothing to blog about.

So I will steal from here, and give you the Twelve days of Christmas for Writers.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me

12 Fulls Requested

11 Muses Musing

10 Plots-a-Flowing

9 Bloggers Blogging

8 Hours-a-Writing

7 Editors Editing

6 Tweets Retweeted

5-STAR REVIEWS

4 Best Sellers

3 Query Letters

2 Agents Calling

And a Contract to Fill you with Glee!

Hey!

Maybe I'll come up with my own tomorrow.

We'll see.

Toodle-Oo!

This Is Going Better Than I Had Hoped

Yes. I have neglected my blog. I'm sorry. NaNoWriMo and Work have stolen my soul.

But that's a good thing.

I've written over 5 thousand words today thanks to Word Wars and Sprints on Twitter.

And I'm still going.

Work... is not so fun. They started Christmas music a week ago, and it's the same twelve songs over and over and over and OVER. I've taken to doing some constructive thinking while working.

Anyway! Writerly things.

I don't have any tips really, except to write what you love.

My first novel wasn't going well, and though I loved the idea and the characters, I think it was the setting that killed it. I don't know how to write modern day times, I excel and love fantasy settings.

So I may start over with that one sometime in a different setting and see how it goes. Anyway, an excerpt.

When the students, former students Aoduain reminded himself, were lined up parallel to the table, Aoduain caught sight of where Kadain was sitting and took heart in the smile when he caught the older man’s eye. When the Queen began speaking again, Aoduain forced himself to pay attention.

“This year, as in every year past, I give you, graduates, a choice. You may go about your lives with the knowledge and skills you have acquired here as a Protector, a Guardian, a Gatherer, or merely a Mother or a Father. You may choose to remain at the school as a Teacher, to dispense what knowledge you may to future students. All positions are, it need not be said but I shall say it anyway, just as important as any other. None may claim to be more important, for how would the Guardian or Protector be vigilant, without the food that the Gatherer brings?

“However, if none of those suit your fancy, or you are looking to challenge yourself, or broaden yourself to the horizons of the world, there is another choice. Our first queen, Rala, possessed a crown that was said to have been blessed by our Goddess Seleni. This was an amazing gift, and one that was to be protected above all others. However, many life times ago, the humans of a place called Horitan stole the crown, and it has been lost ever since. If you wish it, you may try and recover this crown. The individual who does so will have his, or her, name written in the history books and will be forever hailed a hero.

“Many have attempted this, and most have returned unsuccessful. However, those that return will not be looked down upon, nor treated any different for their failure. If there are any who wish to seek out the Crown of Rala, speak up now.”

The silence after the statement was stifling. No shuffling could be heard, and even the forest seemed to quiet for the answer. Aoduain had expected most of his class to react with assurance that they would be able to find the crown. However, none stepped forward. Perhaps the years of failure before now had something to do with it? However, Aoduain saw not the failure in front of him, but something else.

He stepped forward and he could hear a collective gasp not only from the crowd of parents and teachers, but also from his fellow students. The half elf thought he could succeed where full blooded and full bodied elves had failed. He could see the thought written on most faces. Not daring to look at Kadain, he instead looked straight at the Queen Delimbrya as he spoke.

“I will find the Crown.” He was proud that his voice was strong and did not waver as he spoke.

I really like the way the Queen spoke. Her speech was really good for my word count. And none of it was fake word padding, that's just the way she spoke. Really wordy.

Anyway. I promise I will try to be back to a regular posting schedule after NaNoWriMo

Keep Writing!

~Cheyenne

Four Days Later

Uhm.

Yeah, it's been four days since I've posted and I apologize.

I've been so busy trying to catch up, and I'm slowly managing to do so.

You can look at the side bar to the right to see where I am... 17,533 words right now. And I should be at 21,671 at the end of the day. I may or may not be able to catch up today, but I am surely going to try my best.

According to the NaNo website, right now I need to write 1,804 words per day to finish on time.

I think I can manage that, what about you? (I've written 2,291 in roughly 3 hours.)

On the second novel I started this month, I have almost a plot. At least, I have many scenes in mind, and that leads to the in between steps from one to the other. I can't wait to write some of them!

I don't really have much of substance to say today, so I will give you an excerpt of my new novel. (still untitled)

Cold metal shackles dug into his wrists and his ankles. He was forced to lay spread eagled on an ice cold, hard stone slab in the middle of a room. The walls were covered with mirrors, as was the ceiling, and the walls reflected every scream he screamed back at him. And he did scream. There was no way he couldn’t scream. They wanted him to scream, he thought, it was why they didn’t gag him.

For now they were gone. A short respite before the torture began again. He didn’t know what they wanted. They didn’t ask questions, they didn’t even speak. They had bought him from a slaver for cheap. After all, who would want a starved, weak, half elven child? He was no good for physical labor. He was too small and too thin. He wasn’t smart, he could not even add simple numbers. But he had been bought. The only thing they’d done to him since they’d gotten him was to hurt him, though. Why?

He heard a door echo in the distance and he struggled weakly against his bonds. It was no use. It never was. That never kept him from trying every time they came back. He thought that may have been what they wanted as well. They wanted him to fight. When they came into the room, though, he stopped struggling. If that was what they wanted, he wouldn’t give it to them. One of the man, with a sharply hooked nose and beady unfriendly eyes, came close to his face with a long, wicked knife in hand.

As usual, nothing was said. The man placed the steel blade against the skin of Aoduain’s cheek and cut a ragged tear from the bottom of the boy’s earlobe to the corner of his mouth. A scream of pain tore from his mouth yet again as the blade seemed to not only cut, but to burn him as well. With the pain, though, came anger. A fury so great rose up in him that it tinted everything red. Looking up at his reflection in the mirror there, he seemed to grow. He grew taller and thinner, but his muscles also became more well defined.

The bonds keeping him tied down snapped and a fierce pleasure rose up in his stomach at the identical looks of fear on the two men’s faces. Aoduain stood and had to duck his head in order to keep from hitting the ceiling. As he took a step forward, hand outstretched, the man with the beak like nose burst into flames and the second, portlier, man ran. Aoduain reached out to him and a whip of fire extended from his palm, wrapping itself around the man’s fat neck. Pleasure once more warmed his stomach as he watched the life fade from the man’s eyes.

The man’s mouth opened wide. “Aoduain!”

He jerked awake at Talliel’s voice, blinking away the confusion as he sat up. It was bright, had he slept past day break? But no, it was warm. Too warm, he was sweating. Blinking once more his gaze came to rest on the tree, or what was left of it. It was on fire, a blazing beacon in the night. He flinched away from it in fear and the fires grew higher. All around him, as he looked, were scorched patches of ground. Directly underneath him the grass had browned and withered, not burned, but as they die in the winter.

Yup.

Dream sequence/flash back.

It was quite fun to write.

Enjoy!

And happy NaNo'ing.

Uhm... NaNo?

So...

I don't have a post for today. Or yesterday.

So here's an excerpt from my NaNoWriMo novel?

As her attention strayed to the fire, she was caught off guard. The man landed a blow on her shoulder and Sarah Juliet slammed into the wall behind her with a sickening crunch. It was a sound similar to the sound wet wood makes when it snaps. But with more pain. Pain blossomed behind her eyes and blotted out the world. Red lines crossed her vision and threatened to fade to black.

Sarah Juliet fought it, though. She fought it with all her might. She would not pass out. She would not pass out. It worked. Her eyes opened and she flinched. The man stood close. Too close. His eyes were red, and blood shot. His hair, black, hung in lank strands down to his shoulders. His skin was as pale as alabaster, but looked as fragile as paper. As if a strong wind would blow him over, or shatter him like glass.

If the force that had thrown her into the wall was a show of strength, he was anything but weak. And he had her against the wall. His hand kept her shoulder against the wall, and her feet off the floor by at least a good twelve inches. His eyes narrowed as his nostrils flared.

“Who are you?”

She flinched at his voice. Gravelly and full of earthy tones, it reminded her of the sound of tires on gravel when alone at night after watching a horror movie. With a paved drive way, and no one is supposed to be home anyway. It made her fear to her very core. His breath didn’t help matters, either. It smelt like what she imagined a bloating, rotted corpse would smell.

“Who. Are. You?”

He obviously disliked her lack of an answer. Swallowing a sarcastic retort, she blinked to try and clear her eyes of the smoke.

“My name is Sarah Juliet.”

He smirked, and she saw his teeth were black as coal, and filed to points. “Juliet? Like the star crossed lovers from that old tale?”

“Something like that.”

I have no clue who the scary looking guy is. I don't think he's technically a bad guy though.

Have a good day!

Inspiration

Ah, Inspiration. Sometimes called the Muse.

Inspiration is where we authors get our ideas from. It's a weekly e-zine that's sent straight to our inboxes and it contains all the idea's we will ever need.

Seriously, though.

Inspiration is Over-rated

If we sat and waited for inspiration to strike us, very few people would ever write a word. 

Yes, sometimes we have sudden bursts of genius, but that doesn't happen enough to rely on it for everyday writing.

So we can't just sit around and wait for inspiration or our muse or the cosmos to hit us over the head with a great story. So, if you can't get on the Inspiration's e-mail list, you have to chase it down and beat it with a stick. How do you do this?

Observe

Watch the world around you. There are billions of people out there doing any number of things, and they are endless fodder for your novels. 

Watch the news. Watch the weather. Eavesdrop on stranger's conversations. Go people-watching at the nearest mall or walmart. 

Ask Questions

Don't just observe. Ask questions. Why did that woman do what she did? What would be the outcome? How could it possibly get worse? Question everything. Ask why? How? Who will it effect? Ask the obvious. Ask difficult questions. The answers may surprise you.

Keep a Journal

Or a notebook. Or anything. Just write down the observations you think are interesting. Write down the questions/answers that you think are good. Write them all down. Cut out clips from newspapers you think are interesting. Press leaves, color, scribble, draw, free write. This is the bucket for catching ideas. Keep it with you wherever you go. 

Well, that's what I have. 

Happy writing. (Sorry I didn't post yesterday, I slept late.)

NaNo Tips and Tricks 1

Okay, obviously I still have NaNoWriMo on the brain.

I couldn't think of anything to do for this blog post, and so fell back on NaNoWriMo. Fortunately, I have much to say on the subject.

Much, I hope, that may be helpful to others. Like you.

It's Not Your Life

Writing is fun. As writers, most of us know this. But it's not always fun. But mostly it is.

NaNoWriMo, week one, is extremely fun! But don't think that means you can completely and totally change your life.

Chris Baty says as much in No Plot? No Problem! and I'm going to reiterate it here.

Don't make writing your life. I know for those such as myself it is a big part. And that's okay. But don't seclude yourself from all of life thinking that all you need is time alone and you'll crank out novel after novel.

That just won't happen.

Without other stimulation, you will have no access to new ideas. Without new ideas you stagnate and write the same thing over and over again. You become old fashioned.

So don't. Do NaNoWriMo, and then go back to the way your life was before. If you find you want writing to be a bigger part of your life afterwards, great! But slowly introduce it more and more, that way your loved ones and those that care about you will have time to adjust.

From the Author

Late post is late. T.T

I apologize, I wanted to wait until I got my new computer, but it didn't get here until 7:30 PM CST. So... late post. 

This will probably be a series of shorter posts as I am trying to plan and what not for NaNoWriMo. 

Not So Ninja Edit

Almost forgot! I was hosted on The Kelworth Files blog here.

Check it out!

I Can Draw

Sort of. 

I've been doing character art for people on the NaNoWriMo forums and it's fun. My DeviantArt account is here if you'd like to check it out.

I've been doing that instead of writing today, so... There's not much I can say except I can't WAIT for NaNoWriMo to be here.

I have been a master procrastinator even more so these past few days, because I'm putting together my NaNo Swap items, drawing characters, fending off ideas with a stick, trying to come up with side plots for Tainted, figuring out characters and MAIN plot for Tainted. And all sorts of other things. So...

Well I don't have much to say.

Sorry. Bad blog post is bad.

Food for Thought

What do you do when you procrastinate?

Characters on Couches 2.1

Alright. So I've put it off for... well, all day.

So, Hi.

This Characters on Couches session is going to progress a little differently then last time. One, I will be using characters from a different story. My NaNoWriMo novel. I *had* planned to use three gals from my WIP Mortality, but, well I need to figure out my NaNoWriMo novel titled, as you know, Tainted.

Anyway, it's going to be written in roaming first person. I don't know if that's a thing, but that's what I call it. What I mean is that I will use multiple first person perspectives. I know, for a fact, it will be awkward as I am *highly* unskilled and unpracticed at first person.

*Anyway* I'm going to start with the fictional "I" as author, and then will switch to I, as the character. Don't judge. I'm bad at first person.

Characters on Couches 2

Sarah-Juliet and Jonathon

Here we go again.

This time, I have foregone the desk and sit instead on level with the others, facing two empty chairs. The two chairs are intentionally uncomfortable, but I am quite happy in mine. Again I have a clipboard and pen, but this time I am determined to actually take notes. 

This time, I can't use Hilia (well, technically I could, but she's from a different genre and time entirely, and she'd have so much to learn in an instant, that she wouldn't be a reliable lie detector), so I have to either trust they're telling me the truth, or figure out what they mean when they aren't. 

Hmm. 

There's a knock at the door and I jump, spitting out a piece of my pen. (That's why I buy cheap pens. I chew them up.) How long had I been staring off into space? 

"Come in, please."

Ah, so it's Jonathon first. He's... wow, he's tall. Taller than I'd thought. He's got to be well over six feet tall. I let out a quiet whistle and he grins. His height would make him intimidating, if it weren't for everything else about him. He's thin to the point of gangly, his hair is the brightest red I've seen in my life and his pale skin is *covered* in freckles. Over all, he's quite a goofy-looking guy, but at that grin... damn. He lights up a room without trying. 

"So who're we waitin' on?" He sits, lounging in the chair, somehow making the stiff wooden thing look comfortable. 

Apparently all of his height is in his legs, because I can now look him in the eye.

"You know full well, who." 

His grin widens and he laughs. Shit but this guy is charismatic. I can almost feel myself start to smile in response, but I have to maintain a serious facade. I cover my mouth with a hand and "scratch my nose" until I can be serious again. 

***

What the hell is this shit about? That woman better not have invited him. If he's here, I swear to god, I'm going to kill him. How long is this hallway? Everything around me is empty and my steps resound back at me. I'm angry. I can't get angry. I can't afford to Shift. 

Stopping, I take a deep breath, hold it for three seconds, let it out. Again. When I can feel I'm calm again, I push my way through the door that has suddenly become close. It's quite a plain door, really. Nothing special about it. I thought our author would be more ostentatious.

A woman is sitting in a... I stop just inside the door. I swear it's a... 

"Is that a throne?" 

So much for not being ostentatious. 

I swear, it really is a throne. It's twice as high as the other two chairs, and it's... it's black. But the decorations on it. I shake my head. Jesus H. Christ. They're bones. 

"Don't worry, they're not real. Please, take a seat." She waves a hand and gestures to the two seats in front of her. 

My fuse is growing short again. I'm not an idiot. I know the bones aren't real. Even an idiot could tell that. I can tell I'm getting angry because I can hear my footsteps again. I'm stomping. I sit in the chair. God damn, this thing is hard as a rock, I swear. No matter how I shift, I can't get comfortable. It's pure wood, there's no cushion whatsoever. 

"Why ya fidgeting, Jay-Jay, nervous?"

My back goes rigid. I hadn't been paying attention to the second chair. Turning I'm met with a glowing smile. Idiot. Why is he always happy? This is not a happy time. I'm irritated. 

"Calm down, Sarah-Juliet." 

"Don't call me that!" My head whips back around and I give the author the most biting stare I can manage. 

"Fine, fine. Jewel, then. Can we get started?"

"Sure!" God, Jonathon's enthusiasm is so annoying. 

At least it's not him, though. I brace myself for her first question. 

"Why do you call her Jay-Jay?" 

Relief. She turned to him first. Thank god. 

"Cuz she hates her name." He says it matter of factly. 

I shake my head again. He really is an idiot. 

"Why don't you call her Jewel, then?" Her pen is poised over her notebook. 

"I don't like it." I swear he's like a child. 

"...Alright then." There's a slight pause before she answers. She's dumbstruck too. 

"How'd you guys meet?" 

"Fuck you." I talk over Jon. "I know you know exactly how we met. You wrote, well, will write it. God damn, how is it I have knowledge of past events that haven't happened yet? You haven't written a damn word."

She shrugs. My blood begins to boil. This woman... she's just doing it to piss me off. I can feel the blood in my veins. It's getting hot. My ears are ringing. My jaw hurts. Everything hurts. No. Not now. I can't Shift now. But I'm so angry. I'm angry all the time, and it's boiling over no. 

"Jay. Look at me."

 Something cold touches my face. I can't focus. Is that... fire? No. It's not fire. It's Jonathon. Shit, Jonathon. I can't Shift. He can't see that. I can't. I'm stressing. I can't stop it. I'm shifting. My bones start to grind and stretch. It hurts. 

"Hey... Jewel. Come on. Deep breaths."

Jewel. He called me Jewel. He's never called me that before. My skin begins to cool, and my bones settle. My ears stop ringing and I can finally focus. 

We're on the floor. Jonathon's arms are... he's holding me. For the first time, I realize just how much bigger he is than I am. I'm not short, but he's... huge. But he's so thin, I don't think about it most the time. His skin is cool, too. Not burning all the time like mine. No. This isn't right. I can't do this. 

"You're so... annoying." 

He smirks at me and stands, reaching down to help me up. Ignoring his hand I sit in that god-forsaken chair again. 

The author looks completely and totally composed. God she's so irritating. But I'm cool now. Relatively. 

"Ask your question." 

"Why do you hate yourself?" Her pen is poised. 

"Go to hell. You know I hate being a werewolf. I didn't ask for this. Yet I'm a pariah." 

She nods. "Yes, yes, that's all well and good, but you hated yourself before this." 

I can feel Jonathon's gaze on the side of my head. He's curious too. Damn them. Damn everyone. 

"You want to know why? Fine. My father, on the day of my birth, killed my mother. And then he took his own life."

"And-?"

"Would you just shut up for a minute?" My breathing is heavy, but I'm not on the Edge yet. "He left no note, so everyone says that we can't know why he did that. But I do know." 

I can't sit any longer. Pacing, I can focus on the floor and my feet and not have to look at either of them. "He wanted a son. My mother didn't give him one. So he killed her. I don't know if it was sorrow or guilt that cause it, but... either was the reason for his suicide. Can I go now?"

I walk out. I don't care what her answer is.

Alright. So that's it for that. And... well, these characters are not what I expected them to be. It's nice to get to know them before November, though. 

However, I decided this is only part one of this Characters on Couches. I don't know when I will continue it, either tomorrow, or next Wednesday. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!

Questions

Are you doing NaNoWriMo?

Will you be my Buddy?

Are You a Pantser or a Planner?

The upside and downside of both.

So this was supposed to be yesterday's post, but there was no post yesterday because I am a horrible person and @nobody_knows on Twitter got me reading a manga (again), and you should totally follow her because she is awesome and a writer and a NaNoWriMo'er and because I said so and you trust me right? Anyway, I would normally link you the manga (it's called Skip Beat if you're a glutton for punishment) but I won't because then you will be sucked into the same black hole I am in.

Anyway! To the post.
This one is unplanned as I am a horrible horrible planner and a pantser in all things.  

Planning

First, I think, we have to define what, exactly, a Planner is. So what is a planner?

Simply, it is someone who plans. A Planner may draw up all kinds of outlines and even model their characters off of pictures found on the internet or in magazines. Planner's will have their novel planned out to almost the minutest detail. 

The Pro's

The pro's of being a planner are, I think, quite obvious.

With a plan, one has less of a chance of hitting writer's block. (When you know where you're going, you can't come to a spot and go "what next?")

Well... that's really the only one I can think of at the moment, but it's a big one.

The Con's

Perfectionism. This may not sound like such a bad thing, but if you are a perfectionist, you will second guess yourself every step of the way. 

The lack of surprise. When you know everything from A to Z, there is no chance for your characters to surprise you, as you are far more liable to Railroad them. 

Writer's Block. It's the opposite of the Pro, but this is the reason I don't plan. If I plan, and I know what's going to happen next, it is impossible, sometimes, for me to continue because I feel I won't do it justice. 

Hum... Well, I never said I was an expert on Planning. 

Pantsing

Pantsing is a term used for writers like myself who "write by the seat of their pants." Often we go at the task with little idea of the outcome. I, myself, usually start with a beginning and an ending in mind, and some vague ideas of the middle. 

Pro's

Anything can happen. With limits. I love world building. (In that way I am a planner.) Normally I have clearly drawn lines of what can and cannot happen. However, within those limitations, anything can, and probably will, happen. 

The story, and characters, take on a life of their own. No, really. I've experienced this before. Without a plan, it is up to the characters to truly decide what they are going to do. As a writer, I often am bemused, befuzzled, or straight up confused at why my characters do certain things. But you know what? Their motivations always come clear in the end. 

Little Railroading. If you don't know how you're going to get to the end, how can you tell your characters what to do? It's that simple. 

Con's

Anything can happen. Yes, this goes in both categories. When anything can happen, some people can freeze, and so nothing happens. 

Writer's Block. Oh lordy, writer's block. My pantsing is probably the reason for 95% of my Writer's Block in the past, and that much in the future, too. Without a plan, it's quite easy to come to a spot and go... "What now?" 

Editing. I haven't gotten to this stage yet, but because I have had not plan, and my angle has change multiple times throughout writing, I know Mortality will need a MAJOR overhaul before I even THINK of getting beta-readers. 

The In-Between

Now, normally, no writer is entirely one or the other. 

Myself? I am most definitely solidly in the Panster group. However, I do LOVE world-building. And that falls entirely into the Planner category. Also, When I reach a point where I say "What now?" I will ask myself, what has to happen before the end. And a mental map is created. Sometimes I even right it down on paper. 

So. Happy Trails! Tomorrow will probably be another Character's on Couches session, because even though the blog spot was that one time... well, I've got more issues that need worked out! Thanks Murphy!

Cheyenne

Food for Thought

Are you a planner or a pantser? 

What works best for you?