Losing Track of Time

Summer is always odd for me. I lose whole days, even weeks. Time has very little meaning because I'm off of regular work for the summer. So - yep, I'm posting very late tonight because I lost track of time.

Writing is much the same way for me. Usually, I'll have more than one story going at the same time so when I'm stuck on one, I can play with the other. I've had as many as three stories going at one time, but this year is different for my.  Maybe I'm expanding horizons. I don't know, but at the moment, I have six stories I'm working on. With six, it's not a matter of being stuck on any of them. Instead, I'm stuck on which to concentrate on each day. Right now, I'm bouncing between three primary stories, but once a week, I open up the other three and dabble on them too. I'm losing myself in each one and I've even lost sleep the last few nights. Why? I'm plotting. I can't stop plotting.

So - I'm losing time and I'm losing myself in the stories. Is that a bad place to be? Not for a writer. At present, I'm in story heaven.

Sequential or Big Scattered Mess?

I don’t think I’ve ever written a story in chronological order from start to finish.

When a scene, setting, or block of dialogue pops into my head, I jot it down. After a while, I have a huge, scattered mess of scenes, dialogue, and setting saved in a computer file and a general idea in my head of how I want the plot to progress. Sometimes I’ll rearrange some of my scenes before or after others, switch them around until I find a sequence that fits for me. Then, I’ll go in and write filler to connect the jumbled mess together into a coarse rough draft.

It’s usually in the filler prose that surprising little details arise, things I never planned on happening in my story. Sometimes, they’re happy accidents, helping the plot along and making the story richer and fuller. Sometimes they’re aggravating surprises that force me to rewrite and delete scenes in order to make the story flow into one uniform tale.

I’ve heard about people who get stumped on a scene, and they can’t move past that point. It makes me wonder, are there actually people out there who write differently than I do? Do they have to start at the very beginning and then write chapter two directly after chapter one and so on and so forth, never skipping ahead to the good scenes brewing in their brains?

So now I’m all curious. Is sequential writing typical for all authors and I’m just some kind of freak of nature for never writing anything in order? Or do other people skip around too, writing here and there, and everywhere before finally interconnecting it all together?

Tell me, how do YOU write?

It's called inspiration.

But is it? I've decided that inspiration is only the beginning. Writing a novel, a short story, even an essay is hard work.

I love it when people I meet who find out I'm an author are quick to tell me, they could write a book. My usual comment is "Why don't you?" And I'm always amazed when the comeback is "Why don't I tell you the story and you write it?" It does happen more often than I'd like.

What people don't understand is that writing is hard work. Okay, so I'm sitting a lot of the time, and pounding away at a keyboard, but I'm also digging through books looking for information, on the phone talking to experts, or in some cases, friends. I'm not counting the frustration that comes with an idea that seemed so good at the beginning which just won't wash. That part happens a lot. I have a great hook, the beginning is interesting and then the story goes nowhere.

So why are people so quick to say they can write a book? Beats me, but if I'm really honest with them I would have to point out the hours I spend researching, plotting, and planning even before I start to write. So, okay, I'm a plotter. But even with the actual writing there are times when it gets downright difficult. Searching for the right word, the perfect description, the proper character attitude all can be frustrating. After the novel is finished, that is the first draft, then I have to begin the rewrites. Of course, that means rereading and correcting all of the approximately eighty thousand words of my novel.

But we are not finished yet because I give the whole printed novel to my first reader. And he tags all the pages with mistakes. Those then have to be corrected. If I've missed an important point, used the same word to often, have an inconsistency to the plot, it means lengthy rewrites.

Finally, after it's as good as I can make it, off it goes to the publisher. Waiting is also hard to do, but that follows every completed book.

Now that I've worn myself out thinking about how much work goes into a novel, I'll sign off and go take a rest.

Allison Knight

The Most Romantic War?

War—real, bloody, horrific and chaotic—is anything but romantic. It is the worst affliction mankind perpetuates upon itself.

However, wars create romantic scenarios. Tales of lovers separated and united or tragically distanced forever set against the background of large-scope conflict stir our imaginations. From Arthur and his knights to the wars of present day, we hope for heroes to be victorious.

“Romance” was not always defined as a story of love between two people. Romantic notions include heroism, sacrifice, struggle against long odds, and Good triumphant over Evil. C.S. Forester’s Hornblower, Bernard Cornwell’s Sharpe, and Patrick O’Brien’s Master and Commander series were all labeled “romances” when first published. Their sense of Duty and Obligation to more than just themselves figures prominently. Hornblower in particular is plagued with massive self-doubt and low self-esteem, yet rises through the ranks earning respect and intense loyalty from his men. Women are present but not necessarily prominent in these stories. The hardships of conflict and triumph against all odds are the main themes.

What else do those series have in common? All are set during the Napoleonic Wars—1801-1818. The last major war to be fought without powered engines, the difficulty in just arriving anywhere provides fodder for tales of daring-do. There were no vehicles to transport men from battle to battle: they had to slog through mud and snow, often poorly clothed, to fight another day. Cannons became mired or exploded, ammunition and food grew scarce, yet our protagonists pressed on to victory—or sometimes not. Men of the sea in tall wooden ships, powered only by wind and wave, had to have a firm grasp of mathematical knowledge to navigate by the stars and an intuitive feel for weather that no navy has had to solely depend upon since. Skill and more than a little luck saved many a ship that might otherwise have been dashed upon the rocks. Luck didn't always hold: wind could destroy a ship in a hurricane or strand one in the middle of an ocean, becalmed. Legends—of sea creatures, “Jonah” passengers who brought bad fortune, and the lure of St. Elmo’s Fire, to name just a few—were often told in the dark waiting times before a sea battle, making common sailors the most superstitious and fearful sorts who might not follow commands when it mattered most.

[But let’s face it, the uniforms of the British officers of the era's Army and Navy were sexy as hell. With all those breeches, buttons, waistcoats, and neck ties, slowly unwrapping layers and layers only heightened the anticipation...]

This is why I set my new short story, Within The Mists, during the Napoleonic Era. A weary lieutenant in Nelson’s Navy is blown overboard during a ferocious storm just as his ship is almost home from the bloody battle of Cape St. Vincent. Rescued by a beautiful selchie—a woman on land who becomes a seal in the sea—Lt. Edward Putney must choose between a new life with the woman he's come to love or his honor-bound duty to return to the horrors of war...

When do you think the most romantic war era occurred? And what defines “Romance” for you?

Within The Mists by Jude Johnson will be released by Champagne Books in July. 

 

~Jude Johnson

 

 Author, Dragon & Hawk

Available from Champagne Books

Website: jude-johnson.com 

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Writing From the Inside Out

When you write stories that are more character-driven than plot-driven, you have to get inside your characters. You have to know how they think, what they feel, how they react, what makes them laugh and cry, and what motivates them. All too often, writers create a character that is one-dimensional and has no or little depth. The character is flat, much like a cardboard cut-out. Readers can’t relate to a flat character and will find nothing engaging there to keep them reading.

Three-dimensional characters, on the other hand, have depth and substance. They come to life on the page and are dynamic and real. As we read the story, we get to know the character intimately—how he or she thinks, what make them tick. We are invested in them emotionally because they come across as one of us. I believe we almost have to over-write the character—take them into lower lows and up to higher highs. Exaggerate their emotions just a bit, but not enough to make their reactions over the top or unbelievable.

I’ve struggled at times when writing a story centered on a character that just won’t come to life on the page. They are reluctant to let themselves be known. Not in a mysterious way, but in an underdeveloped way. The character is much like a mannequin—all dressed up in the window, but with one body position, one facial expression, and otherwise lifeless.

If I find I can’t get inside the skin of my character and write my way out as I tell his or her story, then I need to reconsider how well I’ve developed that character. I’ve not done my homework or laid the groundwork for writing that character’s story. You know the stories you’ve read that centered on a character that just captivated you, engaged you in his or her life, made you love or hate him, made you wish you lived next door to her. Yes, our characters are fictional. But if they don’t seem real, if they don’t appear to share our vulnerabilities, strengths, and human struggles, they won’t engage our reader. Writing the character from the inside out allows us to capture their depth and emotion. If I can’t get into my own character, I can’t expect my reader to be able to do so.

Linda Rettstatt

http://www.lindarettstatt.com/

2010 Author of the Year – Champagne Books

http://champagnebooks.com/shop/index.php?route=product/manufacturer&manufacturer_id=86

The Grind

Sometimes, such as now, there isn’t much to say because I’m in the middle of the grind – the sometimes tedious process of putting out my next book. In this case, we’re talking about Battle Dancer, the SF novel that will most likely finish the Dancer series I’ve been working on for the last four years or so (a bit more “so” than I’d like to admit). Most novels take me roughly nine months to knock out (no correlation, ladies) however this particular opus is now on month thirteen. I’m still aiming at a December launch, so the pace has picked up.

Tonight is quite typical. I just returned from a day’s worth of work as a software engineer and am mentally wrung out. Having eaten dinner, and treated myself to some rum and coke (today was especially mind wringing), I am settling down to continue Chapter Sixteen where my main character is traipsing through underground caverns. I will need to haul up my remembrances of both Mammoth Caves and Carlsbad for this one.

So here I am sitting on my lounge chair with my legs propped up. Lord of the Rings is playing on my television. I’ve seen this movie so much that is now serves as background noise while I write. In my lap is a nice Dell laptop with a generously broad screen, and I will be working to convert my second draft version of the novel into the third rendition where I finally let my characters stretch their legs and indulge myself with some added color to the scenes. Yes, the book itself is complete by now in its second draft – I know where the story’s going and how it will end. Makes foreshadowing a snap.

I will write from 7pm until 9pm, and then do a final round of checking various websites to keep my hand in literary circles (ye olde promo loop), then save the new scenes back to my main computer and wrap up. I will repeat this process through most of the week, though Mondays and Fridays are “no writing” nights. Saturday and Sunday will see me working from around 8am until the early afternoon. This is where the lion’s share of my writing is done, and my last act on Sunday will be to send the finished chapter off to “WePublish” out at Yahoo Groups for line edits by the other three authors I reciprocate with.

Somewhere between Sunday and Tuesday I will make my corrections based on the group’s suggestions. I will also take time out during lunch to do line edits as needed on any new work of theirs. I average one chapter a week, with a length usually around fifteen pages. And so it goes. The grind, but not necessarily an unpleasant one.

Kerry
www.kmtolan.com

Aesthetic Arrest

The term aesthetic arrest was first used by James Joyce in his book A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. The philosopher, historian and theologian Joseph Campbell, also a Joyce scholar, explained aesthetic arrest as,"A simple beholding of the object... you experience a radiance. You are held in aesthetic arrest. This radiance, the perception of beauty, is regarded as a communication of the hidden power behind the world, shining through some physical form."

As an artist, I live for moments when I'm caught in aesthetic arrest. While it can come from a breathtaking vista, it usually happens when I'm watching a film or a live performance, listening to music or reading a novel. I feel a surge of emotion that's so strong it's visceral, sometimes even painful. They usually occur far and few between, but if I'm watching a really good movie trailer, where the images are perfectly wedded to the music and the subject matter strikes a personal chord, I'm done for throughout the duration of the trailer. Dark Knight, Inception, LOTR to name a few -- films with high adventure that more than likely have a score composed by Hans Zimmer. I'm very fortunate that my husband is exactly the same way, so we completely understand each other when we're the only ones in the movie theater crying during the previews. The worst was when it happened at Disneyland; we were watching the Lion King parade, and the music coupled with the amazing dancing set us off. No one cries at Disneyland! And no matter how many times I watch certain films, the same scenes get me every time: the clowns coming up out of the floor in Finding Neverland, about 80% of Amelie, the Globe Theatre shots in Shakespeare in Love, the pounding on the fake sky wall in the Truman Show, a garage door opening in the rain in American Beauty, and the imaginary piano being played by Hank Azaria in the Cradle Will Rock are the ones that spring to mind. My poor husband teaches film to college students and has to endure their ever-increasing apathy. He stopped showing his favorite films because it was too painful for him to hide his emotion, and the students were too bored anyway.

Although it's more rare, I do experience aesthetic arrest when I'm reading. When this happens I have to put the book down to savor the sentence I just read; usually it's a stirring metaphor or simply an amazing way of phrasing something mundane. The first time it happened when I was reading -- in this case it was E.M. Forester's Where Angels Fear to Tread -- I finally had my epiphany that there's more to writing than just telling a story, that there is so much to be said for beautiful writing. Anyone can tell a story, but it takes an artist to tell it well.

I would love to say that someday I will write well enough to put a reader into aesthetic arrest. Regardless of my talent, however, my chances are probably pretty slim. The majority of our society has never experienced the phenomenon, as if they're cut off from an essential emotion. I may just have to be content with finding more avenues to fall into aesthetic arrest myself.

Once you feel it, there's no going back.

Ashley J. Barnard

Dark Fantasy with a Contemporary Twist

http://www.ashleyjbarnard.com/

A Story Around Every Corner

My girl cousins got together again in Baytown, Texas this past weekend. On the trip home, we stopped in Hearne at a produce stand. I was in the market for tomatoes and my cousin wanted black-eyed peas and okra. They had tomatoes at $5.00 a pound. One cantaloupe was $5.00. Ridiculous prices, especially after learning our husbands had found produce close to home and bought tomatoes for $2.00 a pound and cantaloupe for $1.45 each. Yes, Texas is extremely dry and areas that usually have numerous produce stands have one or two this summer.

I digress here. The point I want to make is that Hearne is a railroad town. As I researched the area, I learned the town's rich history. In the 1850s the Hearne brothers moved to the area and purchased 10,000 acres for their cotton plantations. Christopher Hearne offered land to railroad promoters to bring the railroad to the area but the outbreak of the Civil War halted negotiations. After the war, Hearne's widow deeded 700 acres to the Houston and Texas Central Railway and construction resumed. Hearne grew with hotels, saloons, churches and other businesses. I can easily imagine a historical romance set in the Victorian era in Hearne.

If that wasn't enough to fuel my imagination, I learned in the 1940s, Hearne housed up to 8,000 German prisoners of war. I love WWII stories.

I also learned that the Wal-Mart in Hearne is the only one in the nation to close down due to not making a profit. Many independent business went out of business due to Wal-Mart opening. Then after the closure, citizens of Hearne were left with few to no places to shop. As I reflect on the prices at the produce stand, I now understand why the tomatoes and cantaloupe were so expensive.

So, what kind of stories are in your backyard?

Thanks for reading and writing!

Linda
http://www.lindalaroque.com/
http://www.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com/
http://www.authorsbymoonlight.com/

Who's Your Daddy?

Some of us have been talking about the characters we’ve created and the way we feel about them. One sure thing is that the wimpy ones should stay in the background. They don’t win my vote even if I’ve created them. In my latest release, Tangled Web, I like a teenager—can’t believe I said that—named Amanda. She’s spirited, brave, a little bit manipulative, and very smart. She, unlike some teens, has her parents in her pocket. Conveniently they also have money in their pockets so Amanda’s problems have nothing to do with money, insecurity or teen angst.

What makes her interesting is her quest. After being raised in a seemingly functional home, she discovers that all is not as she’s been led to believe. She sets about to find who she really is. She will confront anybody, embarrass anyone—perhaps without meaning to--she’ll disrupt someone’s life.

Perhaps I lean toward spicy characters. In two of my books I have well-drawn men who are single minded and destructive. But among the single minded, Amanda, the teen, took the cake. Until…

Along come Bilgewater, not a real person, although you might assign him that role. He is an Indian Hill Mynah bird, with a very naughty vocabulary and a penchant for calling people by the wrong name. He’s my main character’s pet in my upcoming release, Kill Fee, out in October. I can’t wait to introduce you to the bad beaked bird, the foul-mouthed fowl, a malevolent Mynah and crime fighter of a different nature. He is my all-time favorite.

Ogden Nash warned in “The Grackle” poem:

“His heart is black, his eye is yellow,
He bullies more attractive birds
With hoodlum deeds and vulgar words,”

Yup. He’s my guy.


Julie Eberhart Painter is the Champagne Books author of Mortal Coil, Tangled Web, and Kill Fee to be released in October. See Julie’s Web site at www.books-jepainter.com

Also available are The World, the Flesh and the Devil, American Castles and Tahitian Destiny. Check out Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Julie’s nonfiction e-book, From the Inside Out, a volunteer looks at staying motivated, is considered a best seller on the Net.

Tom, Dick, or What’s Her Name

Names intrigue me, primarily because of their built-in baggage.

For example, although Hannibal may have been something of a heroic figure in history, I can almost guarantee that after seeing Silence of the Lambs you won’t ever think of the name, Hannibal, in the same way.

So, what about the name Rhett? I’ve never actually met anyone with that name, but if I should, I am predisposed to think he’s a rogue. Why? Because of that terrific character in Gone With The Wind, of course.

Two very different names and very different reactions.

Which illustrates why the names we attach to characters are so very important. Without our even realizing it, the names of those people with whom we associate bad experiences influence how we feel about characters with those names.

It works just the same with good experiences, which can create warm, fuzzy feelings when we hear certain names. For instance, my name is Ramona, a feminine variation of Raymond, my father‘s name. So it should come as no surprise that I love my name.

Long before I began creating people--excuse me, creating characters--I became a collector of names. Not necessarily the unusual ones, but those which seem to resonate inside me, many of which are simply family names. Such as: Michael (my son’s name), Shannon (a granddaughter), Kira and Mackenzie (distance cousins)

Do you find yourself reacting to names in the same way? Sometimes choosing names of characters in a similar manner?

When I wrote BORDER HEAT (released earlier this month--Wheeee!!), I named my heroine Caroline, and every time I worked on the manuscript I heard Neil Diamond singing “Sweet Caroline” in my head.

Aha, another naming resource, music. Let’s see, there‘s Georgia…Linda…Leroy Brown…

Hmmm, maybe our books should come with soundtracks. What do you think? Am I on to something?

--Ramona Butler
http://www.RamonaButler.com/
www.ChampagneBooks.com

Reading, History, and Mead

I love to read historical novels and historical romance. This love led to me reading many, many history books and getting a minor in history and art history in college. Now I read historical novels to see how accurate the history is. (Kind’a perverse, isn’t it?)

At some point in my reading, I came across the mention of mead. In some of those romances set in the Dark Ages, especially those featuring Norsemen, men often drank mead. This was before I was required to read Beowulf in college, where mead is also mentioned. At the time I was pretty ignorant about history and thought Northern Europe brewed and drank beer and everywhere else fermented grapes and drank wine; perhaps information learned in high school history. What was mead anyhow?

So I had to find out about mead. It is fermented honey, and it is one of the oldest fermented alcoholic drinks, perhaps going back as far as 7000 BC! (Beer brewing may go back even further in Ancient Egypt, and Winemaking goes back equally as far in Georgia and Armenia, and all are considered turning points to becoming civilized.) Europeans were not the only imbibers of mead. Mead is known all over Europe, Asia and Africa. Wikipedia has histories and information on all three alcoholic beverages.

I can’t verify this, but I also once read or learned, probably in that high school history class, that our ancestors drank alcoholic beverages because water was unreliable, often spreading disease. I question this now, as generally speaking, how diseases were spread wasn’t known because the cause of disease wasn’t known. However, water can be brackish or unpalatable, and the ancients didn’t have vending machines filled with colas, sodas, teas and other drinks (including water!), so maybe there is some truth to this.

Then, recently, I came across another nugget of information. Mead, the ancient drink is staging its own revival. While home brewing of mead has remained fairly constant, and there are even websites focused on mead, a new and growing commercial market for mead seems to be developing. With a little research any inquisitive reader, or historical author, can find out what mead tastes like. I am certainly going to go on this voyage of discovery.

This spring I ventured into my first fermenting adventure with dandelion wine.  Maybe my next one should be a few bottles of mead. See where reading leads you?

Stone House Farm a romantic suspense from Champagne Books.

Rhobin Lee Courtright

Opportunity

Michael W. Davis

Davisstories.com

Two weeks ago, as often happens with my grand daughter (GD), we were having a life lessons discussion about the impact people can and do have on one another. On this occasion I had misunderstood her motive for unspooling half a roll of toilet paper. I falsely assumed that, like here dad who had done the say thing as a child, she’d been bitten by the cantankerous bug (which does happen) and did it as a prank. I didn’t yell (never do) but with a serious tone I explained that we shouldn’t do things to negatively impact the life of others. A few days latter I discovered her antics were not of a mischievous nature, rather the fact she hadn’t figured how out to tear off toilet paper and the roll keep spinning on her. To alleviate the problem we got a box of pull up tissues and put it in the bathroom just for her, but the point was, I made a mistake and apologized to my GD for my faux pas. The conversation went something like this:

“Emma, I’m sorry I misunderstood about the roll of toilet paper. It wasn’t you’re fault, it was mine.”
“How was it your fault, Pa pa?”
“I assumed your intent was to negatively impact Papa, instead it was just an accident.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, each of us should do every thing we can to have a positive affect on the lives of others and not add to the darkness in their world.”
“Why?”
“Because they have enough things making them feel bad. We should never take pleasure in adding to their difficulties. I mean, you don’t like it when someone makes you feel bad do you?”
“No.”
“And neither does anyone else. Sweetheart, there are enough people in this world that take pleasure in making others hurt, never be one of them. Never take crap from anyone, but also never add to the miseries of other people.”
“Oh, Ok, Papa. Can we go out and look at the stars now?”
“Sure Sweetpea.”

What does this have to do with writing? I may be kidding myself, but it’s my sense that those fortunate enough to write fiction, and get it published, have been given an opportunity to positively influence the lives of others if only for a day. With our stories we attempt to temporarily extract readers from the clouds they may be experiencing and provide a little sunshine, at least some warmth, by the time they consume the last page. Are we lucky or what?

Big Mike
Michael W. Davis (Davisstories.com)
Author of the year, 2008 & 2009

Shadow of Guilt, “To each crossing of paths, there is a reason.”
Blind Consent, “The answers are buried in the secrets of the past.”
Forgotten Children, “Only Sara knows the truth.”
Tainted Hero, “Sometimes good people do bad things.”
The Treasure, “A lonely heart can impair one’s judgment.”
Veil of Deception, “Sometimes truth cuts deeper than a lie.”

Introductions -- All the Way Around

Hello, there! I’m Annabel, a new monthly contributor to The Writers Vineyard, and I thought I’d take a few minutes to introduce myself. I’ll be around musing about whatever topic catches my fancy as I integrate my work and my writing, and enjoy the new writing life I’m building for myself on Cape Cod.

Working on this introductory post makes me realize how differently I introduce myself than I do my characters.

I introduce myself to you tossing out my basic bio, the fact that I’m a full-time writer (no day job here, apart from writing), that I publish under a half a dozen names in fiction and non-fiction, my plays are produced in New York, London, Edinburgh, and Australia, I’m in a bunch of anthologies under a bunch of different names, I teach a lot, I worked on Broadway and in film and television for years, and I read tarot cards. Hopefully, something in there would either resonate with you as a like-minded spirit, or you’d find it interesting enough to get to know me better.

That’s fine for a blog. It’s tighter and more market-savvy and catchy for a book cover or a blurb or a media kit.

But for a book?

We’d both yawn and put it down.

I like to meet my characters in the middle of something. When we meet Morag, the female of my primary protagonist pair in ASSUMPTION OF RIGHT, she’s been called into a meeting at the theatre for an event she knows will be a pain in her ass, and disrupt her regular show routine. Since backstage choreography is often more intricate and always more important than on-stage choreography, or the show can’t go on eight times a week, this is a Big Deal. During the first scenes, where we meet Morag, we learn she can be a little tetchy, but she’s straightforward, unapologetic, and absolutely committed to the show running well. She’s very good at what she does, she’s confident in it, and she also wants to help people live their dream -- as long as they don’t mess with the routine so much! ;)

We don’t just get to see her SAY stuff; we get to see her DO stuff.

Unfortunately, you don’t get to see me do stuff because I don’t put my life on YouTube. You can read the fact THAT I wrote, but you don’t get to watch me in the act of writing, unless we’re in a chat room and you’re watching the words spool out in real time. However, in reading my work, you get to see how I make my characters do stuff. I get to guide you in running the movie of the story in your head. Even though there are more layers between us with the story there, the story is more immediate for you than I am. Which I think is great. That means I’m doing my job properly.

As a reader, I like to be dumped in the middle of something happening, even if it is not the primary event of the book. I like to meet characters when they’re active, not have the setting unfolded to me gently and the character waft in. Perhaps that’s very American action/adventure of me, but I always feel I can learn more about someone by seeing how they respond to their surroundings within the context of a scene, rather than having a lot of stuff explained AT me, and then we get started with the characters, who talk at each other and the author narrates backstory at me, and then we finally start the story going. In media res works much better for me.

It’s another example of how what often works in life does not always work on the page. How often have we critiqued someone’s work and the response was, “well, that’s how it happened.”

Unless you’re writing a diary entry or a piece of journalism, it doesn’t matter. The point of fiction is to heighten “what happened” and make it more interesting. There has to be a reason we are there with the character at this particular moment. It has to be in context, not just of the dailiness of life, but of the particular story we are weaving around this character.

When you pick up my writing, you’ll meet characters in context. To get to know me -- you’ll just have to come back once a month and find out what’s on my mind! ;)

Bio:
Annabel Aidan writes romantic suspense with a hint of magic. She
publishes under a half a dozen names in both fiction and nonfiction. She
spent over twenty years working behind the scenes on Broadway, in film and
television, mostly working wardrobe. Her plays are produced in New York,
London, Edinburgh, and Australia. If you run towards her undoing buttons,
she will tear off your clothes and flip you into something else — and then
read your tarot cards. Visit her at: http://www.devonellingtonwork.com/annabelaidan.html.


ASSUMPTION OF RIGHT:
Witchcraft, politics, and theatre collide and combine as Morag D’Anneville and Secret Service agent Simon Keane fight to protect the Vice President of the United States -- or is it Morag who needs Simon’s protection more than the VP?

Witch and theatre professional Morag D’Anneville is annoyed when she’s assigned to dress the conservative Vice President as he makes a surprise appearance in his favorite Broadway show. Even more irritating, she has to teach Agent Simon Keane, part of the security detail, the backstage ropes in preparation. A strong attraction flares between them which they both recognize is doomed, and Simon must also fight his superior’s prejudice that Morag’s beliefs make her a threat to the Vice President. When Morag is attacked, Simon’s loyalties are torn between protecting the man he’s sworn to protect, and protecting the woman he loves.

www.champagnebooks.com

Posted by Annabel Aidan
www.devonellingtonwork.com/annabelaidan.html

Some Suggestions About Building A Writer's Library

One of my favorite books is the “Farmer’s Almanac”. It’s been around since 1792 and is full of information. An example - if you are writing a story with a character who is a horse breeder, you might need to know how long the gestation period is for a horse. It’s in the “Farmer’s Almanac”. You’ll find planting guides for planting vegetables, tide tables, medicine substitutes. If nothing else, it’s fun to see how close they come with their weather forecasting – and their ads are a hoot!

There are magazines dedicated to writers, and these are full of good advice and suggestions.

With the advent of the internet and the research capabilities of the web, a lot of books are no longer necessary. One suggestion, though – Always look for at least two or three confirmations on any research you do on the internet. There’s a lot of false information out there

A good grammar book is a great idea. And most writers agree that Strunk and White’s “Elements of Style” is a great little book to have close at hand. Also, a thesaurus is another handy tomb. A walk through an online book store will offer books that match specific needs. Library sales, even garage sales, can help build an excellent library and save money in the process.

If you plan to write fiction, you find that building a writer's library is part of the process.

Allison Knight (I'm subbing for Donica Covey this month)

Vampire versus Human/Part 1

My vampires have a saying, “Life sucks, and then you don’t die.”

When you don’t die, according to the vampires that populate my novels, it brings up a whole host of concerns and considerations. Most worrying is memory. How much “baggage” can you take if your life is never going to be over? If the making of a vampire goes well, you face remembering all that happened in your human existence and all that will happen in your vampire existence. Now that can suck big time! It creates such hardship that many vampires, during the course of their centuries of undead life, will choose “time-out” or captus ut humus, the Latin words for “going to ground”.

How many humans require a refreshing of their batteries and how hard it that to achieve in our busy lives? As a teacher and author, I often cannot tune off the voices in my head, be it a student or a character that is pressing for attention. I’m reminded of a line in a move, For The Love Of The Game, where the Kevin Costner character thinks and/or says the line, “Clear the mechanism,” each time before he makes a pitch. It is the author equivalent of becoming still enough in our minds to find and follow our muse. These short spells of captus ut humus refresh and revive us from the baggage of our lives. Just be glad it’s just the baggage of a single lifetime and not the centuries or millenniums a vampire endures. Now that would require a major time out!

Best, January Bain

Breaking News -- Sort Of.

Hello Readers and happy Sunday!
As many of you know, for months, I have been promoting Zirconya: The Sage of Aluh'Nehn and readying it for it's release. For months, I have announced the release to be June 6th. I'm sure you've noticed it didn't happen! Yes, it has been postponed but due to my own request. After all the rounds of edits and rereading the MS over and over, it just still didn't sound right! The dialog was not as smooth as I'd have liked. Some scenes were just lacking the extra UMPH that they deserve! So, I, hesitantly, requested the postponement.

Hope is not lost! Really, it isn't! I am not exactly heartbroken about this, to be honest. I saw it needed more work and more love to make it the best it can be for the reader. Being my debut novel, Zirconya: The Sage of Aluh'Nehn will make me or break me and I have to take that seriously, right?

So, when I receive a new release date, I will let you all know! But until then, I'd like to say thank you to Champagne Books for giving me the opporunity -- especially after being so close to the initial release date -- to take my MS and work at it some more.

And to my fans, thank you for your patience and not being (too) harsh about the change. For your pleasure, though, and to save some of my skin, I am releasing a new excerpt! Enjoy!

***

“Anyway,” Maze went on, realizing their drift away from the main subject, “this necklace was made especially for you, to hold your memories. When we find Melanya, she too will have her own memory orb.”

She gazed at the orb as she spoke. “And Aquin, too?”

“No, not Aquin. He is not like you girls; he is an ordinary boy now. Focus on the subject at hand. If you learn to use this orb for yourself, you can watch all the events of your previous life before your very own eyes.”

“What, like a TV?"

Maze frowned. “A what?”

“A television?”

“I’m sorry, Caelum, but I do not know what a ‘television’ is.”

Chloe stood up and walked to the large cabinet across from the foot of the bed where she opened the doors and turned on the television she’d revealed. Maze stared at it with wide eyes, clearly amazed at what he was seeing.

“It's like the mirrors,” he murmured.

Chloe didn’t know what he was talking about, so she just showed him how to change the channels.

“You see, every channel is different,” she said, pressing buttons on the remote control.” You can watch the news to see what’s going on in the world or sit-coms, or a movie on HBO or anything,” she explained.

“I am lost at the meaning of any of those words, but I am fascinated,” he replied. With a shake of his head, he took the remote from her, dropped it on the bed and turned to her. “We are off track again. I must explain these things to you.” He then turned and grabbed the necklace out of the air and placed it in her hand. “Here, you try. Just throw it in the air as I did.”

Chloe looked at the necklace then closed her hand around it and tossed it up again. It froze at her eye-level. She turned to Maze with a giggle. “What now?”

“Give it a moment; just watch.”

She looked at the orb in wonder, gazing at it as it remained unmoving in the air. In an instant, a light shone from it. Chloe jumped back, nearly tipping the chair over.

Maze moved to a spot behind her. Holding her in her place with a hand on her shoulder, he turned the orb so the light shone on her face. “Watch,” he whispered.

Chloe gazed into the light when pictures began to move like a movie in fast forward. The images were as clear as a television screen, only in 3-D like some movies.

She licked her lips and swallowed a knot in her throat. “What are they?”

Maze’s hands were on her shoulders as he spoke into her ear. “Memories, Caelum; of your life in Zirconya.

Diana Ilinca
www.dianailinca.com

Reconnecting in the Real World

Well, this is the end of my first week of Twitter and I have to say I’ve enjoyed every minute so far. Already, I’ve connected with many new writers and have been mentioned by some, I’ve found some great new blogs to follow, and I’ve learned a few things along the way. But it’s yet another online activity that keeps me welded to the computer for too much of the day along with all the forums, blogs and emails.

So I was delighted to have a day out to Glasgow (my nearest city) yesterday with a close friend. Apart from the pleasure in her company, it was refreshing to be reconnected to the real world for a whole day rather than being tempted to spend too much time online. It was also time to do some surreptitious people-watching, which is always great inspiration for a writer!

Since I was enjoying a day without technology, one of the people who caught my attention was a fellow passenger on our train in the morning. He sat across from my friend and was completely engrossed in his mobile phone for the whole thirty minute journey. He wasn’t using it as phone, so it obviously had Internet access, or an absorbing game on it, for he never looked up from it once, and he wasn’t a teenager.

When we reached the centre of town and stopped at a café for our essential coffee before hitting the shops, I was intrigued to see that the same man was already sitting at a table in the same café, even though we had passed a couple of others on the way (we obviously all like Costa!). And what do you know: he was still completely absorbed in whatever he was doing on that phone, or whatever it was.

Other people crossed our paths that day: sales girls, restaurant waitress, Big Issue seller on the street and a lovely little Albanian woman who sat playing the most wonderful accordion music. We spoke to them all and each left a different impression on my writer’s mind. But it was that man and his absorbing activity that has left me with many questions and scenarios - he might just make an appearance in a short story one of these days. My lovely day out made me realise I need to have more days away from the computer, since it certainly recharges the imagination!

Rosemary (Romy)

http://ros-readingandwriting.blogspot.com

http://romygemmell.blogspot.com
Twitter @RosemaryGemmell

Dangerous Deceit, now available, Champagne Books, Amazon (kindle) and Smashwords

A Question of Honor

Just received the cover art for my upcoming August release, A Question of Honor (a Scottish Historical), and had to share...

Here's the tagline, blurb and excerpts:

Darius MacDuff was at his zenith in the midst of a raging battle. He never expected his home would one day become his most treacherous battlefield...nor would his most lethal opponent come in the form of a shapely siren. Delicious deception, her weapon of choice.

Rival Scottish Clans. An ancient relic. One has possession. The other will stop at nothing to obtain it...
The honorable Clan MacDuff has protected the coveted relic for centuries. When rival Clan MacAlpin discovers the eldest brother of the MacDuff is to take a wife, their scheming materializes in the form of deceit as they kidnap Alick MacDuff's betrothed and send their sister in her place.
Tegan MacAlpin has no choice but to pretend to want to be bride to her blood enemy. But once inside Castle MacDuff she fears her ability to procure the relic before Darius, Alick’s dangerously handsome and highly suspicious younger brother, discovers her treachery. When all is said and done, will she remain loyal to her clan in hopes of claiming her long-sought freedom, or bend to the bidding of a forbidden nemesis? In the end, it all comes down to a question of honor...

Excerpt #1: Something unmistakably lethal shadowed his eyes. Something only a fool would ignore. His austere gaze could turn rock to ash. What the hell was he about?
Alick’s laugh lacked any signs of humor. His eyes never left Darius as he addressed her, “Forgive my brother, m’lady. Dari has been far too long painting the bonny moors of Scotland with enemy blood and forgets his manners in the presence of a lady.”
There was no dismissing the subtle warning underlying his tone, though the smirk that flashed across Darius’ face told her he planned to do just that.
Tegan dare not look directly at Alick for fear he’d read the horrid fascination in her eyes. Surely he couldn’t detest it any more than she. As if she could stop gaping starry-eyed at his wayward brother. If such extraordinary power were within her grasp, it lay dormant beneath a heavy cloak of fear-laced awe.
She did, however, make the mistake of looking at the human magnet and flinched at the violent collision. The knowing leer on his face spoke enough volume to stuff a library from floor to rafters with cynical tomes. He’d seen the lust in her eyes as surely as she’d felt the seed take root and fester in her treacherous bosom.
He was T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

Excerpt #2:
Robert closed his eyes. Tegan thought he’d fallen asleep when they popped open again. He could die any second and she’d be no closer to finding the relic than when she’d first crossed the enemy threshold. She couldn’t waste another minute. “My uncle tells me the MacDuff possess an exceptional heirloom.” It was out before she could sugarcoat it, but she didn’t care.
“Aye, the Cross of St. Luke. I shall bless the union with it. No doubt it shall be my last.” Something flashed behind dull eyes and he looked as though he might say something, but fell asleep. Or died.
“Holy stars,” Tegan breathed. “M’laird?” No response. “Laird MacDuff?” Still, he didn’t answer. She shot from the chair and leaned over him, checking for signs of life. Under such unfavorable lighting, she simply couldn’t be sure.
Should she summons aide, or let him pass peacefully into the devil’s lair? It would be the humane thing to do. “M’laird?” She placed a hand on his cheek. Surprisingly warm for someone with such little flesh to pad rickety bones. Her hand moved to his throat. There, a trivial heartbeat; alive for the moment.
As Tegan pulled her hand away, the candlelight caught hold of something flickering like a courtly bauble beneath blinding sunlight. She peeled back his shirt, and gasped. A small key hung from a thin black cord tied about his neck.
It couldn’t be a coincidence. If it weren’t protecting something valuable, the old man wouldn’t keep it so near to his heart. This had to be the coveted key.
Tegan ever so carefully slipped the leather strap from his neck. The key hadn’t quite reached her pocket before the door flew open. It was all she could do to stifle a scream when in whisked a turbulent gust in the form of one enraged Darius MacDuff.
The scowl marring his face looked as deadly as his rumored skill on the battlefield. The thick tassel of raven hair was tied back, the broad chest heaved with each exasperated breath and giving him a dangerously savage appeal. He looked riled enough to challenge a herd of wild bulls and come out the victor. “What the hell are you doing in my father’s chambers?”

Be sure and check out my other titles available via Champagne Books:
Amulet of Fate
Once A Rebel (book 1 in the Orphan Train series)
Corsair Cove
Adrian's Angel

http://www.angelaashtonbooks.com/

Until next time, happy reading! ;)
Angie

The Seventies - Pulp or Innocence?

Lately, I've noticed a trend in television and movies, with the creators using the Seventies as a backdrop. Sometimes it's a gritty, grimy world with long sideburns, long handguns, drugs, alcohol and screeching tires. Sometimes it's a boy with a Super 8 camera or a young protagonist learning about love in a small town.

How about a group of teens smoking a joint in the basement while Mom mixes a daiquiri upstairs in her orange kitchen?

I know the Seventies were a time of turmoil, and maybe a few people had a few too many drugs and would rather forget the whole thing (maybe they forgot it already). But others look back at Women's Liberation, Farrah Fawcett hair, M*A*S*H and the kitschy orange kitchens with fondness.

What I loved the most was the music – Joni Mitchell; Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young; The Doobie Brothers and Emerson, Lake and Palmer. Sure, others yelled, "Play Led Zeppelin" from beer-soaked wobbly wooden tables in darkened bars, but I didn't appreciate their genius until just a couple of years ago.

Most of all, I loved Brendan with golden ringlets like Peter Frampton's, and a crinkly smile. Every time I saw him, he looked like he was in the middle of an LP cover photo shoot. He didn't play music, but he would have looked delicious on a spot lit stage.

Alas, he had a girlfriend.

So, I dated a bass player. Yeah, that went over really well. But that's another story.

So my question is: Is the literary world about to explode with Seventies themed books? Does anyone look forward to this? Does anyone remember? Does anyone care?

Sandra Cormier is the author of BAD ICE, a hockey romantic suspense.

With Every Certainty

Ever had one of those decisions you need to make, and can't quite bring yourself to choose one way or another? (and for those who've read last month's post, this is a separate and unrelated issue) That's been me for several weeks (months, maybe). So, this week, I made my decision. It may not make some people too happy, but I have to choose my own destiny. And here's hoping that it turns out for the best, when everything comes to pass...

Suffice to say, it's going to involve putting myself out there in ways I've never tried before, and we'll get to see how the fans react.

Of course, I won't find out what the reaction may be until that time comes...so there's bound to be some waffling along the way. :-)

A New Story Helps Say Goodbye

(Partially taken from my blog)

My Lancaster trilogy is complete, and with the final book being accepted by Champagne Books, I can blow out a great big sigh of relief.  Phewww.

I feel rather relieved and liberated, knowing that the trilogy is finally complete...over...done.  For the last couple of years, my head's been mired with the trilogy, the characters, the world I'd created, everything.  Now, I can put it behind me and move on.  It was no wonder that I'd attempted two other books (spin-offs) that stalled mid-way.  My mind was still too distracted with Lancaster stuff.  Okay, I know I'll have to revisit them many times, over and over, whether it’s with the editing, and proofing, and marketing, and so forth.  But now, it's like that portion or segment of my life is done.

I can move forward.  The load in my head has been lightened.  You know, like that feeling of a job completed — pat yourself on the shoulder and move onto the next job with a clear head.

It helps greatly, saying "goodbye", when your addled brain relaxes and removes itself from the old world, and the beginnings of an idea pops into your head and then you start scratching out something completely new and different.  For the last few weeks, I've been neck-deep creating an entirely new world, different characters, and story line.  For the moment, I'm calling it Bengaria's War, after the main character.  It’s a tale set in the extremely distant future where we have now colonized star systems, where there is aristocratic nobles, extremely adept warriors, impressive warships, tea plantations, and love.  Gotta have the love, right?

But hang on.  Tea plantations, you say?  Well, yes.  All civilized future generations need their tea, right?  Though I’m a coffee-drinker, a good cuppa is still appealing in the late afternoon.  Last year I visited a teashop seeking out Christmas gifts.  I have to say, it inspired me to think about all the tea plantations around the world and the whole culture of tea growers, drinkers, and aficionados through the endless generations.  And from there, the thought sort of stretched, and stretched, and far-far-fetched…and well, I hadn’t realized it at the time, but the seed of my current story was planted.

So, as I plod along further into my new world, The Lancaster world slowly fades like a pleasant memory shared with old friends.  And each time I revisit it, it's like opening a photo album and looking through all the pictures with a big old grin on my face.  Perhaps while I drink some tea.

T.K. Toppin

http://www.thelancasterrule.blogspot.com

Flawed Characters

Everything that has transpired in our lives, along with a dose of heredity, helps form who we are, and how we interpret the world around us. Our choice of attitude determines if we use our life experiences for negative or positive actions. I feel the same way about the characters I create in my novels. They are flawed humans with joyful and painful life experiences just like all of us.

In my action thriller, Bolt Action from Champagne Books, Detective Leslie Bolt is a tough talking, gun hording, motorcycle riding investigator with as much insecurity as my neighbor, my best friend, or me. A smart-mouthed, gun hording, insecure female detective that doesn’t have big breasts, is it possible? Yes. She’s flawed just like we are. After a childhood of abuse suffered at the hands of her father, Detective Leslie Bolt stashes a collection of pistols, revolvers, and even keeps a Browning A-Bolt Stalker Rifle in her broom closet. She is stand-offish and down right rude and having to work a serial murder case with her handsome ex-lover Detective Lance Kestler doesn’t improve her disposition.

Boy, I’ve got days that don’t improve my already frustrated, mad, or upset disposition also. I only wish I could speak some of the sarcastic thoughts that race through my brain. Problem is, I’d feel bad as soon as I uttered them aloud. That’s the beauty of being a writer. Tick me off and I can fictionalize the event and taunt you on paper. Relax, I’m just kidding. Maybe.

Come on, take a ride with Harley riding, sarcastic Detective Bolt as she races to conquer her own past and capture the “State Quarter Killer” before her sister is the next victim. Secrets of the past, murder, mystery, revenge, deception, and sexual tension; Bolt Action offers it all. Check out the video book trailer. You’ll love the music from the “D” Railers.

YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqcYL_G7h7s

Bolt Action is available at http://www.amazon.com/Bolt-Action-book/dp/B003IXGWRG/ref=pd_rhf_p_t_1

Also available in paperback:
http://champagnebooks.com/shop/index.php?route=product/category&path=27_49



Please feel free to visit or contact me through my website at http://www.victoriaroder.com/

ABOUT US....

People ask us all the time how we meet, what made us decide to become writing partners, and how long we've been writing individually and as partners, so we thought we share.

Z: In the eighties sitting just west of Jackson Hole, Wyoming in the grassy foothills at the base of the Grand Tetons, looking across the Snake River at a bull moose I began to read a piece I had just written in my journal out loud for the moose to hear. Yup, did it! I learned the moose was not my audience as he meandered deeper into the high grass but I was not discouraged and continued at the top of my speaking voice. About seven feet from me sat a molting coyote engrossed in my presentation. Its eyes held me as if a pup or its suckling mother and I felt one with that energy. Stunned that it did not run, amazed at its calmness in the face of my presence I continued. When I was done, the canine rose, walked next to me, rubbed its matted fur on my arm, passed, and it was lost to the high grass. It left upon me its musk, telling me I was one of its pack. In the capture of that moment in time, I felt validated as a writer. Years later, sitting over coffee, talking about writing, I felt that same validation again, and that person was Angelica Hart. I understood destiny.

A: Everyone has felt that thing that has been called the click, and the ease at which Zi and I purported from the first instant was astonishing. There was an immediate synergy that told me that one and one equaled three. I read his work, was moved. We lamestormed which is our practice of presenting ideas and deeming them lame or not. Of twenty ideas, ten from each, not one idea had merit. Our potential partnership stalled before it started. Then in an email, Zi sent me a touching fantasy love story, where a Mage stole a young man's heart so the woman he loved could soar. He gave it willingly. I cried. I understood destiny.

A/Z: As for our writing together and apart: I was at an Evelyn Woods Speed Reading Class and the instructor said, "We are the sum of all our experiences." There it was a truth that stood above simple truths. As I began to write I recognized that I had very limited experiences upon which to pull. My early work was unquestionably shallow. So I began a quest to discover, in the name of wanting to be a better writer? No! I realized I was shallow.

Initially every submission sent to publishers was returned or ignored. I recall a critique suggesting I needed more depth in both the way I dealt with the subject and the technical writing style. As time ate at my life I waited as I worked. Wrote daily. How much life is lost to wait? That is an apt question, but my wait was filled with discovery. I became a student of people. Discovery. Examined other styles and broke them down mechanically and technically. Discovery. Tried to create more complexity. Discovery. Expanded my vocabulary. Discovery. Read...read...read. Discovery. Wrote...re-wrote...re-re-wrote. That wait was not shallow but an aggressive tutorial for my growth. I continued to submit work. And slowly pieces were accepted.

So the question is who am I? Angelica or Zi? Ironically, we took the same path and had the same challenges and failures. We met as more mature adults prepared to be writers and for a significant amount of time, we have written daily as writing partners. We found a synergy in our styles and complexity in what we wanted to create. Are we good? We don't know. Have we found that depth needed to portray characters as real people? Hope we have. Have we found enough intrigue in our
plot and our words to keep readers interested? You tell us. As Jacob Bronowski, a mathematician, well-spoken and a celebrity of the BBC show The Ascent of Man and was the inspiration of Carl Sagan to make the Cosmos wrote, "The world is full of people who never quite get into the first team and who just miss the prizes at the flower show." If runners up is what we are, we're proud, for our journey has been wonderful.

Zi believes, "Be the best you can be by growing every day." Having said that, goodness, that was something (our hard work) we doubt we'd forget. And you'll notice propriety has kept us from attaching dates, though, long is long and it has been a long time. You can smell the posies on our lapels, none are planned to be lilies soon.


We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at angeliahartandzi@yahoo.com and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.

Angelica Hart and Zi
KILLER DOLLS ~ SNAKE DANCE ~ CHASING YESTERDAY
www.champagnebooks.com

STEEL EMBRACE by Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
August 2011 http://www.carnalpassions.com/


THE FABLE OF SIN-SIN CINDERELLA Series
angelicahartandzi.com

What to do when the muse is on vacation...

I live for my summers, well almost anyway. I do what I can during the busy months of May to prepare for quality writing time. To do this, I use May to do some of my much-needed research or even do a little plotting. Granted, I'm a pantser so I don't do a lot of plotting but I at least try to envision where my story is going.

So - here I am with summer days free to write and ....  Okay, so the body is willing. I have time but where's my muse?  I think she's on vacation or maybe she just didn't get the memo. Either way, I'm going to have to do some serious butt kicking to get her going. Grrrr.

With that said, I'm posting a few goals for myself that I hope will help.

1.  Limit my time spent chatting here and there. (granted it's all been for promo but still...)
2.  Exercise more (I think more time makes it more difficult to manage said time, so a more regimented day would help)
3. Set a time to write
4.  Set a word count goal for each day.

I've already set a goal of finishing at least one book by August so hopefully things will look up and my Muse will come home.

Your Voice

HEARING YOUR OWN VOICE FROM AN OUTSIDE PERSPECTIVE

My husband brought his work laptop home the other day, so I cracked the password and had a little fun making an iMovie with my daughter. She did marvelous, pointing to her ear and belly button, and nose, and teeth whenever prompted. But when I hit playback, I was appalled by my part in what should’ve been an adorable one-minute clip. I had made sure to stay out of sight as I asked my kid to find all her body parts, but my voice… Gah!

I had no idea I had such a nasally, whiny voice. It’s a wonder people don’t want to scrub out their ear canals with a wire brush whenever I talk. What was worse, I kept saying the same word over and over again. As soon as the kid found the body part I asked her to display, I would cheer, “All right!” It was so annoying I couldn’t even save the cute video.

Which made me think about writing. Of course! Whenever we tell our stories, we can see everything play out perfectly in our heads. We can feel the emotions, see every little blade of grass, hear the inflection in each speaker’s voice. The trick is to write all that out so our readers can experience the same journey. And it’s almost impossible for me to see the trees through the forest when trying to do that.

That’s why I think beta readers are so essential. They might be able to spot those fifty cases of “all right” you type on a single page before you could. They can step back a little more objectively and ask, so what happened to this character, or how did this other situation turn out. They can point out little loose ends you forget to tie up.

To me, a beta reader or critique partner is like playing back your own voice on recorder and hearing it from someone’s ears.

Do you have someone else glance through your story—or even do an in-depth critique—before you turn it in to an editor? Or do you feel confident your voice is perfectly fine and repeat-free?