Archives

I Am My Worst Critic

And (write)fully so!

I decided to review We’re Family…Right? ten months after shelving it, thanks to that full request I received during my break. Dare I say…I was appalled…by the word structuring, word choices, hell…the writing as a whole.

I can’t believe that a year ago, I believed that I submitted “a work of art”.  Boy…reality can be so cruel.

Today, I learned the real meaning of “You’re not a true writer until you’ve written several books…that you’ve filed away to never see the light of a publishing house.” Ok, that may not have been the exact quote, but its many variations can be read across the web. And you know what? It’s true. “Why” you ask? Because simply put – the more you write, the more you learn, the more you grow and a better writer you become. That was one reason WFR wasn’t great (IMHO, of course), but it’s also because I realized that writing in a certain style doesn’t suit me. It was the second novel I’ve written in first person. :: face palm :: I thought it was the only style for me that allowed me to project more emotion into my writing. Oh, how wrong was I. Like Yesterday is in third person, and I can [prematurely] say that it was the best decision I’ve ever made. I am not only able to share the feelings of one character but several. It gives my MS an added dimension that my first two MSS lacked. I have more freedom with sentence structure as the narrator takes on a different persona than the characters without restriction.

So, what do I do w/ WFR? I’ve always had the intention of converting it into a family saga, but rewriting it? I don’t know if I even have the slightest of care. I do want to produce a family saga, but I’m not sure if that family is the way to go. We shall see. Like Yesterday is my #1 priority right now. Perhaps if this “work of art” (lol) lands me an agent and, subsequently, a publishing deal, then I’ll make that call.

 

blogsiggy

Advertisements

Ashlee Cowles, Follower of the Week

Picture1

Ashlee is a talented writer of Young Adult and historical fiction with two completed novels to her name. Do take some time away from your day to check out her blog to see what she has to say about her works and her journeys through the fascinating history of Europe.

Thanks, Ashlee, for following, and good luck with landing new literary representation!

 

blogsiggy

Titillate Tuesday

TT_blog
 
This is going to be the last teaser from my current MS…just for a little while. I don’t want to give away too much but I still wanted you all to have enough to get a feel for the MS’s tone. Once I get near completion, I’ll have more to share. But until then…enjoy this semi-final piece and get ready for the new and old in weeks to come.

The aide watched Vincent research like a mad man; her eyes pierced through the book shelf, curious about his studies and weirdo-ism. Photos of lab equipment and infinite text appeared on pages as each leaf extended from the spine and smashed against the inner cover of the book by Vincent’s sweaty palm. His frustration grew with each reminder that his e-reader and pocket touchscreen notetaker weren’t yet invented. After spending six hours exploring each science book regarding the space-time continuum and quantum physics, Vincent surrendered to the demon of exhaustion. His wrists stiffened and his eyes could bear no more weight. He slammed the final book shut and collected his illegible notes written with a pencil and on a notepad left unclaimed on the table when he first arrived.

“Oh, I’ll put those books away for you,” said the aide, leaping from her post. “You look tired. Go home.”

Vincent could only nod at the generous young girl. Her slanted eyes melted with sorrow as she could not offer an obviously troubled Vincent the answers he sought. As he dragged away from the study table, the aide leaned over to gather the books for restocking when the last book collected seized her attention—How to Build a Time Machine by Paul Davies. The aide inspected her surroundings. Noticing Vincent stepping into the elevator and no one else nearby, she stuffed the book into the back of her pants and covered it with her oversized sweatshirt. She reshuffled the remaining books on the table into a single stack and hauled them away to their original homes on the shelves.

 

blogsiggy

Shannon Thompson, Follower of the Week

Picture1

 

Shannon is a 22-year old author, poet, and blogger. So, take some time out of your not-so-busy Friday (nobody really works on a Friday) and see what she has to say over on her blog, especially her guest blog posts written by talented authors.

Thanks, Shannon, for the follow!

Have a wonderful weekend, everyone, and stay out of trouble. I’ll be breaking out of this joint [work] in less than 3 hours!

 

blogsiggy

New on the Page, Titillate Tuesday

TT_blog

Here’s something off the top of my head that sets up a scene from my latest MS:

Salt escaped from the aphotic ocean, only to be trapped by wind as it whistled songs of roar heard by merely two. Their skin merged as one and remained undisturbed by airs and crashing waters against their bare feet. They orchestrated music of their own in the sound of moaning whispers, producing tears of relief.

As usual, it is just a tease 😉 and brand spanking new just for you. I’ll fatten it up only to trim it later to add to my MS. This.should.be.interesting.

 

blogsiggy

Titillate Tuesday

TT_blog

 

Are you ready for a bit more teasing?;) These portions are from “Like Yesterday”, my latest MS. Here, we have the good doctor and Mrs. Siler meeting each other for the first time.

The doctor waited in his chair for her to speak of her intentions. He watched as she took sluggish sips of her coffee, twirling her straight shoulder-length hair with a russet hue in between sips. He didn’t say a word; he merely admired her beauty hidden underneath frumpy threads. His eyes steadied at her quivering hands as she held her mug. On the backside of her left wrist, he detected an Aries zodiac tattoo, appearing faded as if she had it for years. Her brown skin further commanded his attention. Its texture mimicked bronze satin upon the body of a goddess illumined beneath a supermoon sky.

Noticing the doctor gawking at her, Mrs. Siler cleared her throat and said, “My apologies. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

And #2…

He stood hardened against the floor as he fixated on the woman who bolted from his presence. Her name was as vague as one floating around on a Sunday mailer, and her daughter bore no identity. The mysteriousness of her visit weighed on his mind but was conquered by the remnants of her scent. She smelled of wilted blossoms dipped in honeyed nectar—another thing he recognized but not from his darling Meredith.

Next week, I’ll type something brand new, just off the top of my big ass head. It may relate to “Like Yesterday” or…it may not. 😉 Stay tuned.

 

blogsiggy

Music Monday

Music Monday

Maaaan…today was a doozy…and not just because it’s Monday. (Well, that too.) I swear, there has got to be a nymph out there personally delivering messages to everyone I know to nag me on Mondays. But of course, I’m Von, and that means…I ignore 85% of them and make the remaining 15% wait. 😉

In between the nagging and working, I’ve been spending some quality time with my thoughts while listening to some Ellie Goulding.

The raspiness of her voice is so raw yet authentic…and I love it! No writing got done today, but just listening to her kept my mind motivated into conceiving new ideas for my current MS. I decided to edit/scrap/BURN 🙂 an entire chapter. The MS flowed seamlessly once I removed the chapter. It delved into a part of Carmen’s life that adds no support to her or any events I plan to include. It was just fluff about people in her life who aren’t primary. When I highlighted the 13 pages of text and hit CTRL + X, pasting it into a blank file, I just knew that my word count was going to feel the pain of losing hundreds of words. But once I read from the end of Chapter 1 and into the first line of Chapter 3 (now Chapter 2), I smiled. It made sense. It didn’t slow down. I wanted to keep reading.

Sometimes, to be a writer means to sacrifice, whether it’s your time or your beloved written words. Don’t be afraid to lose anything that’s weighing you or your MS down. I needed a clear mind to see that and a little bit of music to find the nerve to do it. “Where good words were written once, greater words will replace them later” is what I told myself, and now, I’m sharing that with you. 🙂 If you can’t find the nerve to slash, then let music be your hype man and let’s get it!

 

blogsiggy