Writer Wednesday - What I'm Working On

I got inspired by Darci Cole's post today, where she described the various projects she's working on.

I have a lot of different projects, all at different stages, and I guess it would do me some good to put into words exactly what they are, where I am with all of them, and where I hope to be in the next few months. I'd also like to hear what you guys are working on! Drop me a link to your own blog, or let me know in the comments.

Also, because I have some new followers...

PROJECTS

I have five projects I'm working on right now; this is what they are, and what I'm doing with them.

1. Title: THE MARK OF FLIGHT

When the slave-boy that rescued kidnapped Princess Arianna is once again abducted by slave-traders, Arianna faces a choice: forget the freedom she promised him and rush home to prepare her kingdom for war, or risk her life to free the young man who gave up everything to save her.

Length: Novel (first in THE MARKMASTERS TRILOGY)

Genre: High Fantasy

Status: Completed (on submission)

Description and excerpt HERE.

2. Title: HELLHOUND

Shapeshifting "Hellhound" Helena Martin has only one chance to keep her pack and her human friends safe: make peace with the sorcerers who killed her mother.

Length: Novel (stand-alone)

Genre: Contemporary Fantasy

Status: Draft 2.5

Description and excerpt HERE.

 I did a major plot overhaul during NaNoWriMo 2011, and got a good chunk of it rewritten, but still wasn't totally happy with it. I've finally given up and decided to shift the entire book into first-person. I've got about ten new scenes to write, which will be much easier in first person.

3. THE BEGGAR'S TWIN

In a world where Nobles live in a city above the streets and touching one means death, PROCNE, a street girl with a forbidden magical gift, poses as a male student at the Magicsinger University, vowing to use her chance at power to bring down the society that killed her brother and made her an outcast.

Length: Novel (first in a duology)

Genre: High Fantasy

Status: Detailed Outline

Description HERE.

I have a detailed outline of the first book note-carded, with only a few gaps in the plot that I plan to fill in as I write. The world is very detailed and strong in my mind, but I'm working out a few more specifics with the magic system (since it's based around music). This is the book I took through my Plot Workshop for NaNoWriMo. :)

4. A DIVIDED HEART

A dragon rider pair must make the choice between murdering hatchling dragons, or letting the precious resource fall into enemy hands.

Length: Short Story

Genre: Steampunk (with dragons)

Status: Revision

This story has been through three beta readers, followed by a workshop. I know what needs fixing, and now just need to sit down and hack at the middle, tweaking motivation and intensity, making the characters' relationships clearer and more important

5. BULLRUSHING THE GHOST

"Big Girl" High School junior Georgia wants two things: closure on her one-sided romance with her best friend Hiroki, and an iced vanilla latte. So when their school's priest fails to exorcise the ghost of a tormented AV geek, Caroline agrees to go along with Hiroki's plan to solve the murder...but it wasn't the close encounter she was hoping for.

Length: Long Short Story

Genre: Paranormal...comedy?

Status: Working on first draft

I posted the first page of this short story a few weeks ago. The voice is strong and compelling, I know the subject matter, but my short-story chops are still a bit weak. The major problem I'm having with this story is that I know parts A, C, D, & E. I have no idea what B needs to, well, be. I don't want to lose the voice of this story, so I'm probably just going to power through it and let part B suck.

What are you working on? Where are you in your process with it?

Sunday Sample #3 - The Mark of Flight

Last week, I shared the opening of my contemporary fantasy, Hellhound. This week, I would like to share the prologue of "The Mark of Flight", book one of The Markmasters Trilogy.

They had known him once, that woman in the teetering headdress, that courtier smoothing his brocade doublet, and that young man in the stained smock. Once, Alukale would have inspired more than a measuring glance or fluttered fan; his face alone would have been enough introduction to any keep from these castle gates to the Centoreinian border. Now it was his name that was known, but not his face. A pity, but at least he didn’t have to cover it. The early summer sun bearing down on his shoulders made the prospect of donning a hood a matter to avoid at all costs, and none of the ceremony-goers in the packed courtyard were even looking.

Their attention was trained on the girl descending the stairs, her arms spread slightly for balance as four gray-clad handmaidens helped her step-after-step. She probably wouldn’t have needed the help if not for the ridiculous headdress that towered well over her head. Its spires glittered in the sun, concealing the hair that would be revealed to all the court in just a few moments. Alukale shook his head in pity—despite the smile on her heavily-powdered face, her magenta aura pulsed like the heart of a hummingbird. To this day, he still did not understand why a girl couldn’t be the first to see her own hair, and he had watched them stuff it into coifs and wraps and caps for five-hundred years.

He shaded his eyes with one hand, the other perched on his sword-heavy hip, and gazed up at the gray battlements, at the royal family’s red and white standard snapping from the bastions. Then the dreaded specter of memory rose, a sickly dream adorning the modern castle in the raiment of his time.

Alukale had left this very courtyard five-hundred years ago, sick with grief, with rage, and ready to tear apart the world itself with his hands, or with his Magic if he could, if only it would stop the war. If only it would bring back what he had lost. But a handful of lifetimes had passed, and he had accomplished neither. Now, the sight of the castle rekindled feelings he had never wanted to face again, scenes he had never wanted to relive. Despite the changes wrought by time and foolishness, it was too familiar.

In the place of steel-latticed oak doors stood a gate of slender pikes, glistening with a web of silver ivy. Such a confection wouldn’t even stop a breeze, let alone an invading army. The keep was no longer a bastion for the people if the enemy were to breach the city’s walls. A few decades of peace and the people of Rizellen thought the war was over.

Alukale snorted. He had felt this ignorant excitement once, and the people of Rizellen would soon discover how wrong they were. Peace had made his country soft, and they would suffer for that weakness. He resisted the urge to leap onto the stairs and call this country that had once been his back to arms and take command of the future once again.

But he could not. She had forbidden interference, and Alukale was discovering that it was the hardest thing she had ever asked of him, and she had asked many things. He had taught, protected, even killed for her; he had shown the ruthlessness she could not, and had been the strength she lacked. And now she wanted him to stand aside.

The crowd hushed, and the piercing keen of a bell silvered the air, hanging across the crowd like ice. The time had come.

The four handmaidens reached for the headdress, and the princess’s hands clenched in her skirts. She didn’t look fourteen, sprite-like as she was, but Alukale knew better than anyone about the discrepancy of age and appearance. It took all four gray-clad women to lift, arms straining, the confection of silver and gems from the girl’s head. A heavy rush of ebony tumbled down the girl’s thin shoulders, and Alukale felt a small flicker of pride tugging his lips as his brother’s descendant shook out a glorious fall of black hair, waist-length and lustrous.

She would be the first Princess of Rizellen to have black hair; her foreign father had given her his coloring, and that was no shame, for a princess needed to be unique.

A groan nearby drew his attention, and Alukale glanced at the girl who had made the noise—unremarkable face, dressed in drab clothing let out at the seams. Her short-cropped hair told him that this girl had not possessed a set of handmaidens to care for her tresses before she turned fourteen. She spotted him looking and flushed, and he hoped she felt some shame in having wished for the princess’s bad luck.

Alukale looked back to the dais, jaw clenched. Princess Arianna would have bad luck enough without having the noblewoman’s curse of bad hair as well. At least the Sisters had blessed her with that much.

“You, boy!” A Warsman in heavy chainmail shoved through the crowd towards Alukale, his blue tabard bright among the peasants’ dull ensembles. “No swords in the bailey!”

“I was just taking my leave,” Alukale said, slipping between the men and women like water. He turned his back to the ceremony, clenching his teeth against the thought that he could do something—right now—to change the course of the future, and he was walking away. But no, he was lucky Lenis had let him come at all, for he knew she had seen a future where he had not controlled himself.

There would be a day when he gave in to that temptation, but it was not today. Today, he had other matters to attend.

Characters that Cry

An Artist in Excruciating Pain

(Wisdom of the day: NEVER Tweet the word iPad. You will get spammed into next week, even if you delete the tweets.)

Writing characters that cry is a tricky process. Every time a character of mine starts to get choked up, I ask myself not whether I would cry in that situation (If I wouldn't, there's something wrong), but whether I would want to read about a character who would. Secondary characters can get a lot more leeway than main characters in this regard--just look at how often Hermione bursts into tears, as opposed to Harry, whose life is unquestionably more difficult (ignore the part where he's a boy and therefore biologically not as prone to tears). I know it's really important for a main character to retain the respect of the reader by showing what they're made of.

So why do my characters cry so much in rough drafts?

In The Mark of Flight (MoF), my main character Arianna is a fourteen-year-old princess, who struggles to get home before her kidnapping incites a war. In Hellhound (HH), my MC is Helena--a shape-shifter, who grew up enslaved in a gang-like style of living until she freed herself with magic and started working to stop her ex-master. These two characters have very little in common, even their worlds: Arianna's world is High Fantasy, while Helena is from a contemporary alternate version of the US. If there was one thing I discovered through writing both of them, it was that they sniffled their way to the finish-line.

Pampered Princess or Badass Shapeshifter--it doesn't matter. They both wibbled at every moment of intense feeling. By the time I got to the end of the first drafts, I knew the faucets were leaking enough to daunt even the Mario brothers. 

I thought I knew Arianna pretty well when I started MoF, but no matter how well you know your MC before you start, you always know them much better once you finish. At first I thought it was okay for her to cry, since she was a spoiled princess, but when I finished MoF, I went back and removed almost all of Arianna's tears. I had learned so much about her character that I decided her pride and determination wouldn't let her cry until one key point--when she discovers she has fleas in her hair. Trivial, yes, but it's that triviality in the midst of the seriousness that finally gives her an outlet. It serves at least two other purposes, as well.

Writing Helena was a totally different experience.

As some of my older readers will recall, I came up with HH the day before NaNoWriMo started, based on a scene I did as a writing exercise. I had a strong outline, which I wrote in a day using Holly Lisle's note-carding method, but learning about Helena was "pantsing" all the way. There wasn't time to get to know her before I started writing--I had to get to 50,000 words by December 1st. I knew she was running, she had a secret, and she had a goal. I knew she was out of place, but not why, or how she felt about any of it. As the story progressed, I filled in her background, I learned her reactions. I think I got her right in the last two or three chapters, but she had about 20 breaking points scattered throughout the story.

I've chosen which one I think is the most important, and I'm trashing the rest. For the character I had established by the end of the story, her level of vulnerability at the beginning and middle of the story was way too high. That's what I love about writing, though. I can fix my mistakes, and only my beta-readers will ever know.

And everyone who reads this blog. Dammit.

It can't be productive to write this way, but I wonder if this isn't part of my learning process--to write characters weaker in the first draft, so I can decide their limits, and then go back and revise. Maybe in the next book or five, I'll learn to be a little more conservative with the waterworks, so my main characters don't start reading like Cho Chang.

Are you bothered by characters who cry a lot? Do your characters cry too much in rough drafts, or not enough? What other kinds of rough-draft tendencies do you have?

HELLHOUND

HELLHOUND

Shapeshifting "Hellhound" Helena Martin isn't sure who she hates more, the sorcerers who fired the magic-laced bullet, or the cruel master who used her mother as a shield. She always figured they would finish each other off without her help, and if she just kept her head down she might survive them both. But when a battle with the Sorcerer's Guild destroys the spell binding the Hellhounds to their demon-summoning master, Helena risks using her secret aptitude for magic to aid her pack's escape. Finally free of the insidious spell, Helena believes she might actually have a chance to live without the violence and heartbreak she grew up with. But her pack has different ideas.

Not only do they ditch Miami for the winter wasteland of Minnesota, enroll her in University, and saddle her with a stolen book of spells, they also expect her somehow to cut off the source of Gwydhain’s power by closing the gate to the demon realm. It’s hard enough to act normal around her geeky-hot new housemate Jaesung without sprinkling salt around doors, blowing up her window, and getting arrested for streaking. With her stumbling, self-taught Magic drawing the attention of the local Sorcerer's Guild, keeping her Magic-wielding canine status on the down-low might just be impossible.

But as Helena refuses demands to hand over her book of spells, the Guild's methods of coercion become increasingly violent and she realizes the humans that were supposed to be her cover have slowly become a liability, for they give her the one thing she misses most of all--a home. Then her master's agents catch up with them and Helena--untrained, isolated, and with more to lose than ever--has only one chance to keep her pack and her human friends safe: make peace with the sorcerers who killed her mother.

(*Note: This is not the original summary for this post, but the one based on revisions.)


(Cleolinda) Time for a trip to the department of backstory. (/Cleolinda)

So, a couple days before NaNoWriMo started, I was going through Holly Lisle's "How To Write Page-Turning Scenes" book, and I did an exercise scene on interpersonal conflict, which produced a very intriguing scene. I didn't think much of it at the time besides, "Huh. It's not complete, but I wonder if I could use it on Pendragon Variety." Then I got to thinking. What is this character exactly, since she isn't entirely human? Why is this book so important? Why is her Godfather handing the book over to someone who wants to kill her? Who is this RA that has screwed everything up, and why does she like him?

Before I knew it, I had decided she was a Hellhound (which really meant nothing to me at the time) and I had a couple scene ideas in my head. I was willing to ignore it for a while, since I've never really been a huge fan of supernatural fantasy. I played VtM and WtA in High School, but it wasn't nearly as engaging as D&D for me - while it's intriguing to contemplate the definition of humanity and the struggle not to nom the face off someone you love, I'm not generally a huge fan of vampires or werewolves or shape-shifters, at least not as they've become in modern fiction. I heard horror stories of a once-respectable and interesting supernatural fantasy series turning into novel-length sex-scenes interrupted by the occasional criminal investigation. My feelings are best summed up by the following (un)smiley: (. _ . );;

Celtic Warriors becoming Demon-Fighting Hounds? HELL yes.

Don't get me wrong - I'm a fangirl about plenty of things. I cosplay; I surf the internet for macros of my favorite bands; I have been known to read (and write) fanfiction. But when my beloved fantasy section suddenly became saturated with a genre I wasn't into, leaving little room for anything else, my desire to wade through the wave of silvered jackets for something a little closer to "human girl accidentally bonds with a draconian enemy on the brink of inter-species war" collapsed.

Because of my relative distance from supernatural (romance) fantasy, I shuffled the idea aside, because I didn't really want to write just one more book in that wave.

I was planning to use NaNoWriMo to finish the second half of Book II in the Markmasters Trilogy, but as I continued with "How to Write Page-Turning Scenes" I ran across a reference to Holly Lisle's notecarding method. I gave it a shot using what little of the scenes I had come up with. Lo and behold, by the end of the day (Halloween, 2010, to be exact), I had an entire plot for a new novel. I was going to do NaNoWriMo.

No Vampires. No Werewolves. No Fallen Angels, and no Zombies. I am a bit guilty of having shapeshifters, but don't worry--there is no furry porn in my book. There is magic, though. And Celtic warriors. And spirals. And Starcraft. (Hey, the love interest is Korean. And a geek. You know he plays Starcraft.) There *might* be a girl in hound form shamelessly taking advantage of her crush's soft spot for dogs. Hey, if I could become a hound at will, I might shove my nose in a couple crotches too. Just for fun.