"Classic Ginger" I Hear Voices, Do You? #pantser

I wonder now at people condemned to asylums because they insisted they had "voices in their heads." Could they have been authors? Especially, 'pantsers' and don't do any plotting?

I never had voices in my head before I started writing...now I've had more than I can handle in this lifetime...all screaming their ideas at me and wanting me to tell their story. I'v found myself so confused at times, I don't know which one to listen to, so I just didn't work on any. I've tried revising my writing style to plotting, but I just can't do it. I need my characters to lead me, but when they're all shouting???

Here's a typical day in my life, from the perspective of me and my 'crew.' Mot of these books are finished and available on Amazon, but I do have one pending.  All have new titles and covers.

Odessa: It's been days since you've typed a word of my story. Here I am, all goosebumpy over the fellow who found me in the middle of the desert, I'm dying to kiss him, and you've just left me hanging. Get on with it, would you? Odessa should be a first priority.  NOW TITLED;  ARIZONA SKY

Carrie: Whoa, hold on Dessie. Wait your turn. Ginger started First Degree Innocence long before your silly tale. You just jumped in and interrupted her with the ploy about your pa being trapped under a wagon or some such nonsense. Your urgency is a "kiss"? Really. I'm stuck in prison for something I didn't do, some ballsy chick called Jet is after me to help her set up a friend by planting a shiv, and all you can worry about is when you're gonna get kissed. Give me a break.

Meagan: Shut up, both of you. I gave Ginger the idea for a story that just might qualify for the Harlequin Undone series, even though she's not so great with steamy love scenes. *whispering* Don't tell anyone, but I think she's a prude at times.*back to yelling* The story requirement is only 15,000 words, so if you'll just take a seat and hold your tongues, maybe she can get creative and finish the damn thing. Crap...this just in. She shared the story with some cronies of hers and they tell her it's not hot enough. Now she's got this crazy idea to just make it an historical novella, called Tender Return. Geez, and I gave up my virginity for this?  NOW TITLED:  TIME INVESTED

Clarence: God, is bickering all you women ever do? I have murder cases to solve and lives to save. Sort of makes your silly little plot lines look weak, don't you think? I think The Pendant should take precedence. Right now, I've only had two deaths and I'm working on the cases, but  Ginger just submitted this to Books We Love for re-release so I'm waiting to find out who gets the necklace next, or where the darned thing came from. So stop your yammering so she can listen to me! WAS TITLED THE LOCKET.  IS AVAILABLE NOW ON BWL AS THE PRIZE FOR THEIR VALENTINE'S CONTEST.

Faith: *sniffing* What about me? I'm still waiting for her to start In Search of Joshua. How am I ever going to find happiness if all you keep taking cuts. FAITH IS PART OF AGES OF LOVE AND I STILL HAVEN'T GOTTEN TO IN SEARCH OF JOSHUA.

Clarence: Taking cuts, my ass. You already have a book published with you as the heroine. Give someone else a chance. Geez, talk about greedy.

Faith: Well, it's not just me that's anxious. The people who read the first book...at the least a couple of reviewers, didn't care much for the ending because I didn't connect with Joshua. I have to find him.

Carrie: Take a chill pill, Faith. Try living behind bars and worrying your cellmate is going to snuff you out during the night and then come talk to me. I wish I knew if I was going to survive this story or not. I'm not getting any younger, ya know.

Joy: Hey...don't forget me. I know she only typed a paragraph of my story, but I have a wonderful one to tell...and with a twist none of you have come up with. I think she's stalling on mine because she just can't get kinky. But, I intend to keep yelling in her ear until she finishes Joy's Revelation. JOY'S REVELATION IS NOW PART OF DISCOVERY...A SEVEN SHORT STORY RELEASE IN WHICH EVERYONE DISCOVERS SOMETHING.  :)

Odessa: Revelation, smevelation. It's late. We all have a gripe, but we'd better shut up so Miss EPPIE nominee can get some sleep or she'll never finish anything. At least we know she must have some talent. *laughing*. Good night guys. Talk to you tomorrow.

Clarence: Okay, Goodnight. But I get first crack at her in the morning. It's only fair because lives are involved.

Faith: Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Whoever screams the loudest... Goodnight everyone...you too John Boy!

Everyone giggles.


If you are interested in any of my books, you can find them all on Amazon.

To Plot or Not by Roseanne Dowell (Replay Day)

At one of our chapter meetings of RWA, the speaker talked about plotting a novel and writing a synopsis before the book was written. She suggested if we had never done that to try it.

So I did.

I had an idea for a story that was taking shape in my mind. As usual, I knew how it would begin and how it would end. What happened in the middle? I didn’t have a clue. Oh, I had a few ideas. 

I knew there was a secret about my heroine’s birth, and she’d find a dead body But I had no idea who he was  (yes, I knew it was a male) or why he was killed. So I tried plotting. I came up with a few ideas about his identity and even about who murdered him and even why. 

I was totally blocked. The story sat for the better part of the year without me typing even one word. Every time I opened it, I read it, made a few changes and then I got to the part where I was stumped.

I stared at the computer, sometimes for hours, trying to come up with something, anything –even if it was garbage – just to get me past that hump. I couldn’t do it. So I’d move on to something else. I revised several other stories that I’d written a long time ago, then I’d go back to it. The problem was –I was locked into the outline, I didn’t know how to make the transition to the next thing. It didn’t feel right.                                                                                 

It wasn’t until one day; I was emailing my writing buddy about my dilemma. I needed help and any suggestions she could offer would be most welcome. I wrote what I had so far, and where I wanted the story to go. For some reason, in that email, I started to ask what if, which is how I usually wrote. I threw out a couple of ideas to her and answered them myself. Finally, I was unblocked. I even created a new character and another conflict. I ignored the plot outline and went a completely different way.

That was how I usually wrote, asking what if as I wrote, coming up with new ideas. For me, plotting and outlining doesn’t work. I’ll never do it again. For others, it works fine and good for them.  I understand it’s not necessary to stick to the outline, but for me, since I  outlined, I had trouble deviating from it.  It blocked my creativity. Yes, I should have ignored it long before, but it was too fresh in my mind. It took a year and then some to forget what was on that outline so I could move on.

I guess my whole point is – write the way it’s comfortable for you. There is no right or wrong way, there’s only your way. There are few hard and fast rules in writing. We all have to develop our own style, our own voice, and our own rules. Some authors get up in the morning and sit down to write. Some write later in the day, and still others write in the middle of the night. Again, whatever works best for you. The important thing is to write.

My current novels are available from Amazon at: http://amzn.to/tnqgR2  

Visit me at my website www.roseannedowell.com 

How Plotting and Pedicures Can Work for You by Connie Vines

We've all heard it said that writing is a solitary art.  Is that why we find ourselves creating such deep bonds with other writers who share our passion/obsession?  For whatever the reason, my closest friends are fellow writers.  In fact, we're not so much friends as soul mates caught up on a similar life journey.

While many of my writing friends are cyber friends, conference friends, and RWA Chapters friends, I am fortunate to have several local friends.  One of which I have know since my salad-days when I served on the board of the Pomona Valley Writers' Association.

Several years ago the three of us decided to take a brain-storming retreat in order to take our writing and careers a step further.  We also wanted to reward ourselves for hard-won accomplishments, to to celebrate our successes.

I kept a journal of what went on.  I can't say the structure (or lack there of) will work for every critique group, or circle of writing friends, but it worked for us.

Creating your own Writing Getaway.

• Divide up the duties.  The location, schedule, food, and spa, All  require planning.  There were three of us.  We each emailed each other with update and choices.
• Secure the location.  The room needs to be large enough but must also fit everyone's budget.
• Rough-out a schedule.  One person should be a time keeper.  We worked in two-hour increments with breaks in between.  That way we could focus on one person's story.  This helped because discussions can become rather tense and we needed a break.
• Parameters and Goals. Everyone should state what she/he needs to come away with.  There will be homework.  I plot using The Writer's Journey, Pam is a GMC devotee, and Bev is a seat-of -your-pants writer.  Of course there were empty spaces in our plots but we all had the Beginning, Middle, and End sort-of figured out.
• Be honest--not brutal.  
• Enjoy.  Life is all about the journey.

So were did we meet up?  Since we all live in southern California, we took a discount flight to San Francisco (an hour away) and stayed in a quaint little hotel down town.  We were able to walk a couple of miles to a cafe with great local fair (minus the tourist prices).  The next morning, hopped a cable car to the Fisherman's Wharf to gain some some plotting time while view the bay. 

Our weekend was the most rewarding getaway I've done for myself since I sold my first novel.  I recommend a retreat to anyone who can find the time.  You don't need to fly to get there.  Though I am not an enthusiastic camper, I can pitch a tent and unwillingly sleep on the ground.  Or, book a room at a local bed and breakfast during off season.

End result?  We each finished the plotting out our novels and had a good working knowledge of our characters quirks and goals.  And a deeper friendship too.

Happy Writing & Reading!

Connie  

The Franciscan--our final night in town.
Remember, I'm not a 'camping' kinda girl :-).

Book Battles by Juliet Waldron

This is the title because sometimes that is how I feel about the work of writing.

I’ve been bashing my head against one particular story for months. In this case, it’s a book that was “supposed to be” a romance, the second in a projected series. As everyone who has ever tried to construct a basic, old-fashioned romance novel knows, this can be trickier than it seems.  

Conventionally, for starters, you have the heroine and you have a couple of guys who will be Mr. Wrong and Mr. Right. You will, eventually, in the course of an engaging, warm-hearted story, find a satisfying resolution.  Sounds easy, right? Just a formula!

(And, if you think that, I have a bridge I think you'd like to buy.)

I now understand that I set myself up for this by creating a heroine whose problem is that she is too pretty. She’s the girl who fits every 1870’s guy’s idea of the perfect box of candy. (From a historical perspective, perhaps her good looks have gone out of fashion, but we're in another time, so how would we know? All we do know is that she turns them on.)

 

For the young lady I created three principal suitors. I’d decided in advance which of the three would be the one to win her hand. Her choices: a wounded veteran who is now a minister, a farrier/farmer whose pride and joy is his trotting horse, or a natty gentleman with an inheritance, good looks and a few bad habits.  

If you are a writer, you’ve probably had characters rebel, take issue with your plans. First came the young lady, who tossed her head and told me that she was a material girl and not at all like her earnest elder sister, sweet Sophie of Hand-me-Down Bride.   The men proved difficult to bring to life. Their outlines stubbornly remained vague. Finally, the heroine, tapping her cute little foot, said that for various reasons not one of these men, as now drawn, would do.  On top of the heroine's dissatisfaction, the skeptical old woman inside me kept muttering how not one of these potential unions had "a snow ball’s chance in hell” of enduring for the long haul.

 Hand-me-Down Bride

 

This was/is discouraging. It messes with my sleep, so I lie for hours each night trying to get a scene with this cast of actors to run.  I've tried many ways of making this story work. I've lost my temper and tried to hammer my square pegs into round holes. I've added more angst and then taken it out again. I've thought of writing in (and a job of work is that!) Suitor #4 and/or changing one of the Mr. Wrongs into Mr. Right.

In the meantime, other stories keep knocking on the door bearing strong images and smart bits of dialogue, dancing seductively in the costume of another time period, all calling for attention. Potential solutions--the light at the end of tunnel--disappear just before I arrive. Clearly, the secret is hidden inside one of these characters, something about one them remains undiscovered. 

And now it's time to go to bed and think about it a little more. I have faith. Sooner or later, one of these guys will set me straight . Then the rest will be duck soup.

~~Juliet Waldron  

 

All my historical novels Hand-me-Down Bride@ 

 

http://www.julietwaldron.com

https://www.facebook.com/jwhistfic

http://bookswelove.net/authors/Waldron-Juliet

 

 

Pot Roast and Carrots by Katie Hines

What the heck does pot roast and carrots have to do with writing? Well, a lot actually. Let's examine the typical pot roast: the roast itself, the seasonings, onions, carrots, potatoes, perhaps celery and other yummy veggies. At least that's the ingredients that go into my pot roast. On occasion, I make gravy, too.

Every story should have a pot roast in it. It should have a central plot, a theme, and several subplots. Depending on how long your story is depends on how large your pot roast will be.

Be sure and lavish lots of spices on the roast. You can sprinkle them on the story through rich conversations and humor. Like spices, adding some humor to your story will add that extra special ingredient of getting your reader to plug into you and your writing and want more.

Now comes the veggies. Now, we have all heard that veggies are good for you. They are, AND they're good for your story. How about taking your character development to the nth degree? Make them so diverse and special that your reader can't put your book down for wanting to find out more about your character.

Veggies also come in the form of plot twists and development. Every good story has a nice, diverse plot, taking your characters and story into places where "no one has gone before." And, don't forget to have your character change and grow in your story. That's really icing on the cake--oh, I didn't mention cake? Here it is, then, that final taste that has you leaning back in your chair and savoring the final moments of the book or story.

Go ahead, writers, now's your turn to cook some pot roast and carrots.

Characters, Stories, Lockets and Garden Hoses...Oh My!

How do I stop the endless flow of characters passing through my brain and dropping off story ideas? I'm sure you remember that rather than plotting my stories, I'm a pantser (write by the seat of my pants). Characters pop into my head at will, introduce themselves, a plot and expect me to start plunking their story out on the computer. Well, it worked well the first couple of times, because I typed until I finished. But now...? Oy Vey! I have too many stories rattling around in my head and I'm getting my characters confused with the journey they expect me to take.

I've spent the last two days working on "Hope Springs Eternal," and finally finished it. When I proofed it one last time before shipping it off, I was surprised to find Carrie, my character from "First Degree Innocence" had slipped into a scene.

Now that I'm finished with Hope, Carrie is screaming for my attention, but then I have Odessa tugging at me, too. My brain is wrapped around a non-fiction that I want to write, Souled Out, but while I was on vacation, my sister gave me fodder for a great story concerning a locket. Another romantic suspense, but lean on the romance because she's more into true crime than loving. *smile*

The good news is I'm making progress. Next month, Forever Faith will join my first release, Chastity's Charms, building toward a four novella anthology that will hopefully one day be offered in print, Stages of Love. Here's a little teaser from Forever Faith: CAUTION: IF MAY BE TOO SPICY FOR SOME... If you prefer, skip down to the next scene from Hope Springs Eternal.

Faith Oliver suffers from a weight problem and has no real beaus in her life. In fact, she’s never been with a man. Maybe that’s why she’s surprised when a delectably handsome male begins to invade her dreams and command her body. Driven to diet to find a boyfriend to replace her hunky dream lover, Faith undergoes hypnotherapy to determine the meaning of her night visions. Her sessions draw her back to another life, to an era far removed…and a strange name she’s heard before.

Excerpt:

Faith woke with lips feeling bruised from passionate kisses. Her breathing came in quick gasps as if she’d just finished a bout of voracious sex.
Until last night, her dream lover had only touched and kissed her. She hadn’t really gotten a good look at his penis before. She was still awed by the size of it. If that was a weapon, the man was heavily armed.
Faith pushed herself up into a sitting position and rested against the headboard until she composed herself. If she smoked, this would be the perfect time for a cigarette. This dream had been the most fantastic yet!
Her nameless beau had actually made love to her, really penetrated her this time, gone all the way! She had no idea what she’d been missing. She exhaled through pursed lips and reveled in the moment.
Her nipples were still pebbled beneath her nightshirt, and from something other than cold air for a change. Warm and moist, her nether regions still contracted from the thickness, while her whole body quivered in delight. She pinched herself to make sure she was awake.
Is this what the afterglow of intercourse feels like?
____________________________________________________________________________________

Hope Springs Eternal, which I just submitted and has yet to be edited, is a medical romance. I offer this 'un-edited' scene for your reading enjoyment:

“What?” Jerrod jumped to his feet and glared down at her. “Not see each other anymore? Why on earth not.”
She peered up at him, her heart pounding. “I think it’s best.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything.” He ranted. “Best for whom?”
Her mind spun. How could she break it off without divulging the real reason? God, she adored him. He’d never said he loved her but clearly he felt something to be this indignant.
She stared into her lap. “I-I’ve given this a lot of thought and I don’t see a future for us. I think it would be easier if we called it off now before either of us gets too attached.” The lie clung to her tongue like peanut butter on a spoon. She glanced up.
He started to pace. “I can’t believe this. I’m already attached. I thought you felt the same.” He stopped and stared at her. “I love you, Hope. I don’t want this to end.”
Oh my God, he’d said the words she dreamed of hearing, but now it was too late. She steeled herself against his blue eyes, his trim frame, his good looks, but most of all his heartfelt words and stood. Though painful, she locked gazes with. “I’m sorry, but I’m not changing my mind. I need you to leave, please.”
If he didn’t, her resolve would crumble and she’d beg him to stay, to take her to bed and show her how much he loved her. She walked to the front door and opened it. “Goodbye, Jerrod.”
He passed by her without a word. Tears glistened in his eyes and his shoulders sagged, but he didn’t even glance at her. She quickly closed the door behind him, leaned against it and slid down into a tearful heap on the floor. He was gone and her heart felt as though someone punched her in the chest. She hugged herself and rocked back and forth. “Oh, Jerrod, I do love you. I do. I do.”
____________________________________________________________________________________

So, now I've taken care of Chastity, Faith, Hope and Grace. Joy has yet to be fulfilled, but Carrie and Odessa take precedence...at least I think. Detective O'Conner has dumped the name of the first victim in the locket stories on my desk, and the lure of a contest entry has me working now on a historical short set during World War II. I completed three short stories and submitted them to a new magazine. One has been contracted and I'm waiting to hear on the others. I submitted a short Christmas story to another magazine, and am waiting on that as well, and I'm also anxious to see Roselle Fountain to make her debut in Sparta Rose...coming soon from Eternal Press. They say the third time is the charm, and if Ellie Fountain, as she's called, doesn't emerge from the ashes of two burned contracts, I'm giving up on this one. *lol*

Add in the task of two pending video trailers I need to complete, new characters trying to crowd their way into my head, and the constant stimming of my autistic grandson in the background, and you'll probably be able to figure out why I'm the nutcase that I appear to be. Oh, I forgot the most important distraction at the moment...Kelly in his new headgear for his sleep apnea. It's really fun trying to doze off when your mate is wrestling with a six foot hose attached to a little machine on the nightstand. I gave up the other night and moved to the couch. It's like sleeping with an animated garden hose. Please Lord, let the break in period be over soon.