Lost and Found

I'm relieved to report that I found my missing pages. I had them saved, but for some reason I hadn't added them to my main manuscript file. Lesson learned - scavenger hunts are way overrated.

So, not only did I actually write what I remembered writing, I found it again. Hoorah! And, since the chunk was around 30 pages long, it's an extra relief to have it back. The next CWC meeting is just around the corner, and I'm up for submitting.

In other news, I'll be doing the Thanksgiving thing over the next few days and have decided to officially bail out on NaBloPoMo. It figures that I'd decide to do a blog post challenge during a month when I have no internet hookup at home. Hopefully, that's a second lesson learned.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Lost Marbles

I think I'm losing my mind. For the second time, I seem to have lost a chunk of Oracle. There are two chapters, the two most recent chapters, that I know for a fact I wrote and now I can't find. What the heck?

Have I been saving pages in a weird place, or accidentally deleting them? Ugh. It's exceedingly frustrating to have spent the time to write two full chapters and now be unable to locate them. I mean, seriously, how did I manage to do this not once but twice?

Riffing on Goodbye

"Gwyn," Sedge started. Her name came out of his mouth as clumsily as a pile of rocks.
All of the years he had spent knowing her, all the nights of lying beside her, breathing in the smell of her skin, they slipped away from him. He felt like a stranger in front of her, trying to hold on when he was already letting go. Only for a time, yes, but letting go nonetheless.

"Don't," Gwyn said. Her arms went straight down from her shoulders, straight and stiff. That, more than anything, hurt him. More than anything else in that moment, he wanted to soften her. "Don't say you're sorry. Don't say any of the rest of it. I don't want to hear it."

He reached out to her and felt like his hand traveled a hundred miles before it found the warm curve of her waist. The insults and hurts of the past that had spurred him to take up the sword seemed blurred and faded. What did it matter what had happened so long ago? Here, in front of him, stood everything he wanted in the world.

Gwyn yielded to his touch. She wrapped her arms around him and tucked her face into the crook where his neck met his shoulders. Her breath made her chest push against his with gentle, insistent pressure with each inhalation.

"I'll stay," he whispered.

"You won't," Gwyn replied. "You can't."

Even as she said it, he knew it was true. Even now, he felt the tug. If he stayed here, he would always be that little boy who ran away. A flash of anger heated his face. Rellin would win if Sedge stayed. Involuntarily, Sedge's hand went to the hilt of the sword on his belt. He had to leave and confront what was ahead of him so he could face his step-father as a man.

He had unfinished business and in a week, in a month, he'd feel the need leave again. Just as he'd felt it so often in the past years. It had grown stronger the nearer he got to the moment of taking the sword and he knew it would never let him rest until he heeded it. When he got back, he would tell her everything. Every last secret he had been keeping from her for the past seven years.

"I love you," he said.

Her hold on him tightened as if she were trying to keep him firm to the spot. "I know," she murmured. After a minute that felt like a year, she loosened her grip. Gwyn lifted her head from his shoulder and kissed him. At the touch of her lips, he felt his eyes grow hot and wet. He blinked the tears back furiously.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said.

Gwyn put her hand against his cheek and he turned into the caress. Without saying a word, she nodded and turned away.

He climbed in the saddle and looked back over his shoulder as he left the yard. Just before he was out of sight, Gwyn looked up one last time. Their eyes met. She smiled sadly at him and raised her hand in a wave. Then he rounded a turn in the road and the branches of a pine tree slid across his view and hid her from him.

Riffing

In Lyon's book, she discusses a trend that she's seen of under-writing. One exercise she puts forth is riffing. It's a pretty simple concept:

You take a passage that you've written where you move through a scene or image really quickly. Then you take out a fresh piece of paper or do a hard return and you just start writing. You write on that passage and instead of having a paragraph, you go write a page, two pages...

The exercise especially caught my attention because I'm someone who's often heard my readers say, "Slow down. Where's the fire?"

With Oracle, one scene where the CWC crew were especially displeased with me was the scene where two major characters, lovers, say goodbye to each other. Yeah, they're totally right, I went way too fast. So, it seems a good spot to use for an expansion exercise.

First, the scene as it is now (and yes, this is the whole scene between the two characters). Next post, the riff.

“Gwyn,” Sedge started.

“Don't say you're sorry, or any of the rest of it, 'cause I don't want to hear it.”

“I love you.” He kissed her. She kissed back. Now was his last chance to call it off. He held her tight for a moment, then released. “I'll be back as soon as I can.”

“You'd better be.”

He climbed into the saddle, gave her one last wave, and headed south. A few days ride south was Selm, his destination. It was the nearest Nyman temple with an oracle. He hoped to get answers there about what he was being called to do. When he got back, he would tell Gwyn everything. All the secrets he had kept for the past seven years.

Oracle Prologue, Part 3

For a moment, all thought of the pain from her injuries was eclipsed by surprise. Pink, mica-flecked quartz swarmed together to form a rough oval. Two large cabochons of labradorite crawled in toward the center and Jalena was struck with the impression of eyes. Carnelian lips added to the impression and shadows made by the shifting tiles completed the image of a face. Azurite hair streamed back from the head, twitching as if blown by a breeze.

Jalena shook her head. Was she still in a dream? The lapis lazuli eyes met hers. Stone lips curled up in a welcoming smile. Using her good hand, Jalena pushed herself to her feet. This time she did not slip. More tiles cascaded across the wall, this time coalescing into a hand. It gestured for Jalena to approach.

After a moment's hesitation, she did as the mosaic bade. If this was really happening, as the pain of her injuries testified, it could be no less than a miracle. If she was dreaming this, and the pain with it, then she had no reason not to. She looked down at the stream in the floor. Everything she believed told her that to cross the stream was sacrilegious. Decades of respecting the goddess' sacred space were difficult to overcome.

On the wall, the mosaic beckoned again. Jalena closed her right hand into a fist. The cut burned, spurring her to raise her foot and jump across the gap. She landed roughly on the other side, heart speeding at the thrill of being somewhere she was not supposed to be.

Jalena walked slowly toward the wall. She closed the distance with just a few steps and stood almost nose to nose with the face. She stood mesmerized, holding the goddess' gaze. Tiles scraped against each other as the mosaic hand raised with the palm facing Jalena. She raised her right hand. Blood dripped off it to splatter on the floor. Acting on instinct, Jalena pressed her own palm against the wall. Despite the chill of the morning, the stone felt warm. A jolt like electricity ran through her. Carnelian lips parted. The goddess spoke.

Oracle Prologue, Part 2

The pre-dawn gloom lightened to a hazy shade of blue. Soon, the other clergy would begin stirring. Jalena should prepare for morning prayers. No more at peace than she had been when she woke, Jalena rose. As she did, her foot caught on the hem of her robe and she fell to the floor, slamming her knees on the stone with a shock of fierce pain. Her right hand struck the corner of the stone stream, breaking her skin across the edge. Jalena bit back a cry of pain. A rivulet of blood ran down the stone to mingle with the water. The blood darkened the water in a cloud that looked black in the low light.

Knees and hand stinging, Jalena struggled to rise. Blood slickened the stone. Her hand slipped as she tried to gain purchase. Her knees hit the stone again. Agony rushed through her legs. Frustrated and hurt, Jalena felt tears force themselves into her eyes.

In front of her, something scraped. Jalena blinked back tears. Another scrape. The noise came from the other side of the stream. Scrape. It was the sound of stone on stone. Jalena took a deep breath and rocked back on her heels. She held her injured hand in front of her. Blood streaked down the front of her robe. The scrape came again.

Sight blurred, she looked ahead, trying to find the source of the noise. Something was moving on the wall. The scraping grew quicker, like the shuffle of a card deck. She blinked to clear her vision and saw that the sound came from the mosaic. Tiles of blue, green, black, and every other color on the wall squirmed against each other, struggling to go in different directions.

Oracle Prologue, Part 1

Jalena woke to blue-black morning. The air, still cool before the summer sun warmed it, tasted sweet in her mouth. Creaky stiffness in her joints from her decades of life was not so sweet. She sat up in bed, mentally grasping at the last shreds of the dream that had woken her. The dreams were more and more frequent lately, pulling and tugging at her like nettles. They always faded as soon as she woke, leaving her with nothing but a feeling of restlessness.

She rose from bed, walking toward the public area of the temple. Stone tiles cooled the soles of her bare feet. She passed through the dorm area where the clergy lived. This was the place she had called home for over four decades. Jalena knew her way so well, she could navigate by touch alone. Her footsteps sounded like a whisper. No one else stirred.

Moments later, she reached the main area of the temple. Carved stone pillars raised from the floor to hold the ceiling. At times, they gave the space a feeling almost like a forest with grooved white trees. Many other mornings of late had found her here, in the sacred space of her goddess. It soothed her when the dreams came.

Jalena walked toward the focal point of the temple, an expansive mosaic-covered wall opposite the public entrance. A few yards away from the wall, she stopped. Here a channel in the floor carried water from one side of the temple to the other, a small stone river in the marble forest. The water started in the mountains of Tryne and flowed south as the Illyan river, reaching all the way south to the sea. The water that flowed in front of Jalena were diverted from the river on its way from mountains to sea. Like an artery, it connected vast expanses of the body of the continent.

Kneeling, Jalena dipped her fingers in and sprinkled herself with moisture. A quiet prayer tumbled across her lips, asking the goddess for guidance. These dreams troubled Jalena, though she did not know why. Slowly, a feeling rose in her, a yearning to cross the stream and walk on the other side. She resisted, as she had on the other mornings when the feeling came to her. The space opposite the stream belonged to the goddess alone. Humans were too impure to enter it.

The mosaics on the other side of the stream were dark in the time before the dawn. Jalena did not need to see them to know them, though. Images of the goddess Nyma and her forms covered the expanse of the wall. A lapis lazuli ocean that turned into the blue hair of a serene woman who watched out from the wall with shining labradorite eyes. Jade and malachite showed the shades and shadows of a wide river that held a woman running. A howlite blizzard blazed with a furious gaze. On and on, the images stretched. All the forms of water echoed with the many faces of Nyma.

35,000 Words

Sadly, it looks as if John has won the contest. *cough, cough* I mean, congratulations, John!

In all seriousness, cheers to all who participated. I've done short (two week) contests before, and now I've completed a two month contest. All-in-all, I think the two month contest is actually harder. Marathons are tough. It's easy to be ultra focused and ultra motivated for a short period of time. It's tough to maintain it.

At the end of the contest, I am not the winner, nor am I even in the top three. However, and this is important, Jenny did not make me cry. So, even though I'm not necessarily THE winner, I call it a win.

Also, that goes for the 35,000 words I've written in the past two months. That comes out to 100 new pages, or 2 full CWC submissions, or about 4 months before I'll be submitting pages I haven't written yet. That's cool.

Emotional Writing

Some time ago, I was on a professionally published writer's website. I'll skip her name, but tell you that she's got multiple novels on the bookstore shelves. On her website, I read an update where she was describing how she gets emotionally invested in what she writes. A specific example she described was in the book she was writing, she had just written a scene in which her main character did something "unforgivable." According to the author, writing that scene where her character committed this act was so emotional for her that after she finished, she went into the other room and sobbed. She was... dramatic about it.

My reaction was, "Huh? Are you serious?" Getting that emotional about a made up person committing a made up act that you made them do? Sounded a little unbalanced to me.

Do I think good writing requires emotion? Sure. Do I think good writing makes the reader feel like they're involved in what's going on in the book? Absolutely. Do I think that, in order for the reader to feel the emotion, the writer should feel the emotion first? Sure. But, do I think you should have a nervous breakdown because of a fictional event? Um... there's a difference between reality and pretend.

I was thinking about this last night. Last night I got to a scene where I killed off a main character. It wasn't the easiest scene to write because I was trying to make it as hard as I could on the other characters. I was trying to make it hard on the reader. I mean, that's kind of the point behind killing a main character. But, I have to confess, I did not, in fact, have to go in the other room and sob about it.

Went Over Like a Lead Balloon

I have to confess, I totally bombed my April goal. My idea of getting in four solid hours of writing on Oracle came out to not writing any Oracle at all. The 1.25 hours of writing I did get in were all on other things. About half an hour of that came from the CWC meeting and responding to writing prompts. The rest came from working on our May CWC homework - expanding one of the prompt responses into a whole story.

The good news is I've got a new short project to work on, which is fun. It's also still pretty low stakes writing, since it came from a game and I have to get it done quickly.

For May, I've got lots of things going on and though it'll be a different type of busy than April was (i.e. no ton of end-of-semester grading, no finals, etc.), it'll still be plenty busy. So, I'm going to think small scale...

Lost It

Right now I'm having a "what the heck?!" moment.

I got an earful from the CWC crew last go 'round because of a section in my submission that was missing. I had a new chapter, with a new character, and at a little more than half of the page, I ended with {more here} and that was the whole chapter. Boy howdy, did they give me the what for.

The thing is, I had gone back to that chapter and written the rest of it later on. That's why I didn't think of it when I was printing, because I'd written it. At first, I thought it was a simple oversight where I'd printed the wrong version of the file. It was an "oops" to be sure, but I had it. Or, so I thought.

I've been looking for the file on my laptop and all I can find is the file with the missing chunk. Now I'm baffled, because I don't know where I saved that file. The only thing I can think is that it's on my PC, which would be weird, but it's possible. Luckily, I do have a hard copy of the missing part (another reason why I know I wrote it and why I know I wasn't just imagining that I had). So, the good news is that even though I can't find the file, I haven't lost the words. The main mystery is where on earth did they go?

Note to self: figure out a better way of keeping track of what file's on which computer and which copy is the most recent.

The Too-Much-Twizzlers Dilemma

Good news, the Twizzlers worked. I've gotten a whole lot done this week, and I even managed to end up with some leftover bribe. It begs the question, what to do with the extra? Given the givens, it seems like this weekend might be a good time to start making head-way on that 4 hour goal.

Since I'm heading into the section of Oracle where I'm going to be going from blind rewrite into digging out my old draft, that means that at least part of that 4 hours this month will be less about writing from scratch and more about revising/re-writing. I am still absolutely counting it.

I'm a little curious about diving back into the old draft since I've spent so much time away from it. Should be interesting, to say the least.

Writing Hours

Last month was reading based. This month is going to be writing based. I'm aiming for four hours of working on Oracle. I know four hours doesn't seem like much, but it's a starting place. I really want to get my next CWC submission prepared in advance, and that's the first step in getting there.

Reconstructing Oracle

Ugh, what a mess. Between moving a couple years ago and getting a new computer, my original Oracle stuff is in shambles. I have no electronic file for the first 50 or something pages (hard to say exactly what I'm missing, 'cause it's gone) and one of the later chapters is likewise missing. What I do have are the following:

• A list on a post-it that shows which chapters were in which character's POV
• My original notebook where I wrote the first big chunk out long hand
• Some assorted hardcopies with comments from my original go-around submitting it to the gang (though these assorted hardcopies don't account for all of the chapters I submitted, nor all the missing chapters)
• The synopsis I submitted as I was running chapters through the group (so they could remember stuff that had happened in previous months' submissions)
  
• My original note cards (now transferred to the Bible)
• A series of individual chapter-files
• My rewritten first chunk from the contest

As you can see, it's a little bit here, a little bit there, and it's all a bit incoherent. I'm trying to decide on the best way to tackle this, and so far the biggest thing I've decided is that it would be best to do a whole rewrite rather than trying to cut and paste the pieces. So, for some, that means a from-scratch rewrite like I did with the first part. For some, that means a transcription. Even for things I plan on doing a little bit of cut/paste, I think it would still be best to at least transcribe it from an old copy to a new file. It'll help make the style consistent and let me update what I originally had to what I decided to have later.

It's a bit overwhelming to think of, all together, so I'm focusing on the bits and pieces.

• Print out the old stuff
• Dig out my commented-on hardcopies from a couple years ago
• Read through those parts
• Print out the new stuff
• Read through it, and make any corrections/additions I need in order to fit the earlier stuff that I'm going to keep
• Start writing on from the new rewrite, transcribing from what I originally had and filling in what went missing

One step at a time, right? I think I'm going to need some chocolate. And, possibly, binder clips.

World Building & Bibles

This past Sunday, the UGWP group got talking about the issue of world building. There was debate about the best way to do it: if you over-plan, there's the danger of getting stuck in the planning phase without moving on to the writing phase; if you don't plan enough, there's the danger of having to wing it as you write, which leads to the danger of inconsistencies & confusion.
Me, I'm finding that it helps to do a Bible. The Bible starts off with me plugging in everything I already know about the story/characters/world, things like main characters, places, etc. This part came together with Cass after I had written a couple of Cass stories but before I started the novel. So, I had a good idea of certain things, but fuzzy idea on others.

Then, as I wrote and figured out details, I added them to the Bible. This worked pretty well.

Today I finally got a chance to put together my Oracle Bible. This came together a little differently than the Cass Bible, because I've worked on Oracle before, and because different things are important to remember in the world. Overall, though, both have a character section, a section for places, and a section, or two, devoted to relevant mythology. For Oracle, specifically, here's what's in the binder: a map; character sheets; location sheets; info sheets on the four major gods; notes on the world itself, like what their technology looks like; and I also added a sheet for all the names of all the characters to make sure I'm not naming everybody the same things - for instance I seem to really like male characters with names that end in "in" or "an."

As a side note, during my first go at Oracle I put together a sort-of Bible which was a small stack of index cards that I kept in an envelope I glued on the inside cover of the notebook I was writing Oracle in. It worked decent, but is kind of inefficient once I got a certain amount of notes to remember. The binder's more streamlined and keeps things from getting shuffled.

So, now we come to the audience participation part of the show. When you're working on a project/world building, what's your system?

Ending, and Beginning Again

So, sometime tomorrow, or maybe the next day, there's a very real possibility that I'll have a completed draft of the Cass novel. I'm talking whole she-bang, people. It's an impressive thought. Of course, said draft will be far from perfect, and there's plenty of messiness to clean up, but I'll have a beginning, middle, and end. Whoo-doggie.

But, the contest doesn't end tomorrow, or the next day. That means I'm going to have to dive right into the next project. I've been thinking about going back to Oracle for a while now, (like what, a year and a half?) and it looks like the contest will necessitate this happening ASAP. It's exciting. (Not to mention exhausting. Trying to keep up with Boudreau is tough.)

January Post-Game

The theme for this month was prioritizing. How'd you do?

Me, I did some careful thinking about the things I do, why I do them, and who I'm doing them for. Over the past few months, certain things have been a bit wobbly for me. After all I spent three and a half years in a relationship with someone I was planning to marry. I developed habits, expectations, etc. that were a reflection of that relationship. Then, from one day to the next, that relationship dissolved, leaving me to do a lot of rethinking.

Within the past month or so, I think most of that wobbliness has finally grown steady. Along with that growing steadiness has come a growing certainty about the need to change some things. Most of those changes are personal, so I'm not going to go into detail. (See? I haven't lost all of my mystery.)

Writing-wise, I'm moving away from having so much of an audience. A funny thing to say, given that I've got this blog and that I've already promised a few people that they get to read The Tree Story once I've finished the draft. But, I'm probably not going to submit to the group this coming month and I don't know if I'll ever show the latest story to everyone. This isn't a negative reflection on them, but right now they're not who I'm writing for.

The thesis has been knocked down one priority notch (and knowing I have until next fall to complete it helps take the pressure off) and Oracle has been officially sidelined. I don't have anything specific that I want to write instead, but I want to open myself up to having my next story be whatever strikes me vs. something specific. I need to spend some time writing simply because it's fun, and the rest of it gets to be on hold for now.

Well, enough about me. What about you? Have you made any changes and/or decisions to change this month? Any realizations?

Digging

Of all the useful abilities a writer can have, I'd put digging near the top of the list. Anyone can outline a plot, but it's when you flesh it out, dig into it, that you're really rolling.

Oracle has been a prime example. I started out with chapters which, in my mind, covered all the ground they needed to in two pages. After a few months of people telling me to slow down and expand, or face the consequences of an irritated critique group armed with sharp and aerodynamic pens, I buckled down and did what they told me to.

At first it was really tough to go into a scene and put so much thought into how I could add to, for instance, a bit of dialogue that was a few sentences long. And yet, after I started to dig, I came up with more and more. I added a bit of description about body language, or anything anyone was holding, or a bit of description about what was happening in the background... After a while, what I would previously have written in a paragraph became a whole page.

More recently, I've been having the same thing happen on my other blog. A while back I added a few quotes from the bar. Then I added a few more. Now the blog is bar-laden and I still have notes on my order pad that I haven't put up yet. As soon as I started digging I wound up with more material than I could have thought possible. My first bar posts were pretty short. My last one was 1,100 words.

The more time you spend fleshing out a topic, story, etc., the deeper you dig. Now, sometimes we get carried away and write a trilogy of novels about the character's teen years, even when the real story doesn't start until the character's thirty-two. So yes, it's totally possible to get carried away. Still, it seems the more common struggle is the opposite.

Since the theme of this month is revision, keep a shovel in mind this month while you're going back to what you've written. Chances are, you could probably dig at least a little deeper.

Alternately, just for giggles, take something out of the piece you're revising - a minor character, one of the props, or even that scar on your protagonist's arm. Get a fresh sheet of paper. Start writing. Say as much as you can about it, everything you can tell about its description, history, significance, etc. Then, once you've done that, write another page about it. See what happens.

Catching Up: Trains

A few hours ago I took myself down to a coffeeshop, found a table, and finished FJR (or at least, what I've got of it). Reading this manuscript reminds me of watching a train get started. The first few chugs are almost painful to watch, then the rhythm smooths out, then you have a few tons of metal hurtling along the tracks with scary momentum. That's the jist of what I read.

By the time I got to the last few chapters, the Jenny train was really bookin' it down the tracks and you couldn't pay me to stand in its way. The worst part is that I don't have all of FJR yet. Bad Jenny. The neat part was seeing her writing get stronger and stronger as she went. Now it's just a matter of going back to the beginning and pulling it up to the level of the rest. But, that's the whole point of editing.

While everyone's process is their own, mine and Jenny's are similar. Looking at the progress of Oracle is like looking at the progress of FJR. Toward the end, when I stepped away from it, Oracle had hit the point where the rhythm had smoothed out. I have a ton of work to do when I go back to the beginning, but now I have a good idea of what the beginning needs to match up to.

Today, after I wrote my last note on Jenny's manuscript I came home, turned on the computer, and started writing the next chapter of Oracle. Going back to it is both strange and not at the same time. I remember where I was going, but where I was going was the messiest part of the whole book. It's intimidating to try and get my momentum going right at the bottom of this hill, but if I don't I'll never finish it.

I've been thinking hard about just what Oracle is in the grand scheme of things. You hear a lot about how your first novel, or two, is for practice and that the chances of it being any good at all are exceedingly slim. At the same time, I want to make it as good as I can make it and not just toss it aside when I'm done writing it through and say "Well, on to the next one, the one that matters." In the end, I have no idea what'll come of it. I'd like to think I can save it, but I also acknowledge the fact that it might be doomed already. Either way, I've got to at least see it through.

Here's a toast to that first painful chug.

Into the Breach, Dear Friends

At least, I think that's what the line is. Something like it, anyway. Oracle has been sitting in the back of my mind and with everyone talking about NaNo, it's begun to shift in its seat. Perhaps it's about time to go back and finish it. I have the next scene in my head. It's been there ever since I finished the last chapter. It's about time for it to get typed up.

So, planning ahead a bit here... During December, one of my goals will be to write the next chapter of Oracle. Maybe, depending on how Thanksgiving break goes, it'll even happen sooner.