Just Me & You

What to do… What to do…

So the prompt is: You’ve got a bullet, a match and ring in your pocket. You sit in the diner, holding your breath.

Hope you enjoy. I had a lot of fun with this one…

***

Holly took a booth close to the door. She dropped her purse on the torn red cushion next to her. She didn’t need to look at the menu. It hadn’t changed much in fifteen years.

“Regular?” Petey called from behind the mustard yellow counter. He had one of those diner caps on, like Mel from Alice’s Diner. The walls were white and the floor was checkered.

It hadn’t changed much in fifteen years either.

She nodded once. “Sure.”

“Grilled Cheese, Phil.” He hollered into the back.

Brandon’s dad must have finally got a job, Holly thought. She slouched in her seat, slid one hand in her pocket. Smooth metal, rough wood and sharp gemstone. One, two, three. All there.

Which to use? She closed her eyes as she rested her head on the back of the seat.

“Here, beautiful.”

She heard the slide of a glass plate on her table, heard a fresh new voice in this stale old place. Holly opened her eyes to meet the dark blue gaze of a stranger. “Thanks.”

He cocked his head. “I’m Philip.”

She looked at him a moment and then told her biggest lie all year. “I’m not interested.”

“Me neither. What’s your name?”

Holly’s eyes narrowed briefly before she told him.

“You look like you’ve got heavy thoughts, Holly.”

“I don’t need some do-gooder trying to fix me. Let me eat in peace.” She’d given herself until the end of her favorite sandwich to choose.

Use the bullet, burn the house or sell her mama’s ring.

Any way she looked at it – she was leaving town tonight.

“Go ahead and eat.” He tapped a finger on her plate. “What’s so important in your pocket, Holly-girl?”

She opened her mouth to say it wasn’t his business but stopped. Instead, she pulled her hand out and lay the three objects on the table between them.

He fingered the bullet before tucking it in his shirt pocket. “Door number one is no good. That would mean you couldn’t go on a date with me tonight.”

Holly frowned, mute in the face of his audacity.

Philip picked up the match, snapped it and tossed it with her crumpled napkin on the side of her plate. “Door number two is no good either. It means you wouldn’t go on a date with me tonight.”

Carefully, he lifted the diamond ring, letting the light from the window glance off the precious stone. “Hhm. Now this one I like. This one means you not only go out on that date with me… but you stick around a while after.”

Her heart beat out of control as she stared at him, afraid to follow his lead. The slow grin that curled his lips tipped the scales. She quirked an eyebrow, snagged the ring from his fingers. “You’ll have to buy your own. This one was my mama’s.”

She held her breath as Philip slid out of the booth.

He winked at her. “It’s a deal, Holly-girl.”

I am coming to realize that life is too short to worry about the crap out of your control. Like submissions already sent, rejections already received, and people who have no common sense.

So today is all about those things I like.

One of those is a website that Zac Petit put up on his Promptly blog (okay, I love Zac’s blog too…) called I Write Like. What you do is copy some of your work and paste into the box on the home page, submit… and the little robot inside will tell you which famous writer you write like.

Be very careful. It’s addicting. So far, I write like Margaret Atwood, Dan Brown, James Joyce, and a handful of others… ’cause like I said… it’s addicting.

Another thing I like is a good story. And one of the best feel-good stories I’ve read in a long time is a little piece by Andie Anderson called Got Mistletoe? She’s doing a “story behind the story” over at Ava March’s blog (another thing I like!) today… check it out. I guarentee you’ll love it as much as I did.

Then, of course, there’s coffee. I don’t so much like coffee as much as I need it to function above a subpar IQ level, you know what I mean?

I should probably mention T.A. Chase’s blog story, Wolf’s Survival. He’s finished it now but if you get over there soon, you can search down the sidebar and see the intallments… I so can’t wait to see what he does next!

And chocolate. Mmm…. Do I really need to add to that?

And emails from friends. Can’t forget those. And Harry Potter… ’cause I’m not a Twilight fan. (sorry!)

So, what do you like?? What makes your day?

When I set up my “alternate ego” website (www.em-woods.com), I said I would put my m/m stuff over there. But… I’m too freaking excited to NOT put this here. I’m sure over time, after the next hundred covers , I’ll stop bugging you all. But that ain’t here yet.

So, I’ve got good cover. Even if it is the generic one that they use with the Lust Bites series at Total-e-Bound, it’s mine. And I like it.

Isn’t he pretty?

A friend and I have been taking turns picking a topic to talk about and hash out between the two of us. Just our opinions, you understand, nothing that is going to shift the axis of the world… I don’t think . But we’re ironing out what we think, why we think it, and sometimes… just sometimes, we change our minds.

I’m not going to get into what we’ve said, or even what we’ve talked about, but it got me thinking about what it means to pick a course of action. We all set goals and, of course, there are those pesky New Year’s Resolutions but really, that is not the same. A course of action is the long haul, the long road, the long term… whatever you call it — it’s not around the corner.

It takes patience. It takes determination. It takes heart.

I think as writers we’ve chosen that long road. There are always going to be those people who have something negative to say, or who talk behind our back about the writing profession or our ability. But they, in the end, are simply bumps in the road. We have to proceed slowly past – or over – them and keep moving forward on our chosen course.

Honestly, I think Ralph Waldo Emerson said it best:

Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising which tempt you to believe that your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires… courage.

So, here’s to all of us having the courage to make it to the finish line.

So, do you have your coffee ready? ‘Cause I’m looking for some discussion here – just to warn you…

In reading the latest Writer’s Digest (July/August edition), I discovered an article written by one of my favorite resources. Victoria Lynn Schmidt, author of Story Structure Architect, 45 Master Characters and Book in a Month for creative writers. Her piece is on page seventy, if you’re interested in reading the whole thing (I practically devoured it… so I know you want to read it, right?!)

Titled Upping the Ante: Three Strategies, it highlights three key ways to ramp up your story.

1. Identify character motivation.
2. Insert cliffhangers.
3. Intensify the main problem.

Enough cannot be said about character motivation and making sure you understand it enough that your reader has no question as to why your MC is acting or reacting that way. But in that understanding, also comes having something to write about. If you don’t know your characters motivation, you can float around in sea of meaningless chatter, alienating your readers from your characters.

For example, in the last short story (13,000 words) that I wrote, one of my MCs gets angry at the other MC. I didn’t handle the transition well and thus… my CP wrote something like… he’d make the MC walk home, barefoot, if it were him. Now this might not seem like much – but my story is set in Northern Michigan in the winter after a snowstorm. And they live in a suburb of Detroit. So – that says a whole lot about how I didn’t do my job right. And he is right. I needed more there to justify my MC’s motivation for being angry.

The second option, inserting cliff hangers, is the fun part. In my opinion, this is where you get to play around with the story. This is your opportunity to leave your reader in the position of “Just gotta read one more chapter”.  Fun, fun stuff.

The last thing, intensifying your main problem, is probably the hardest one of the three. This is usually a plot revision, a monkey wrench you’ve thrown into your MCs life. I struggle with this one. Mostly because after I write the general outline, it feels like I’ve made it too hard (is there such a thing?) on my MC. But… if I don’t make it difficult, will the struggle the MC goes through be worth the prize he/she will win? Probably not.

One other side note that Victoria Schmidt makes in her article is from Book in a Month (c)2008.

ENERGIZING YOUR CHARACTERS

Just as good news can lift your spirits and give you more energy, it also can do the same for your characters, so if you have trouble motivating your character into action, give him a jolt of good news.

And what could be more simple? Or more true? Everyone has to get good news sooner or later. Otherwise, you might as well be watching the news.

So, where do you struggle? What’s your strong suit?

Hey all! The prompt for this is to combine sorcery with lawyers. *grin*

###

“You think you can get away with it?” Jeanie yelled across the courtroom. She rubbed her palms together, gradually moving them apart, letting the energy build between them.

A little man poked his head around his overturned table. “You’re insane!” His voice was pitchy, like he’d just breached puberty instead of their photography contract.

She glared at him, the spark in her hands turning from burnt cream to blazing red in the space between heartbeats. “Insane, Robert?”

He squeaked and ducked out of sight as she sent the ball of fire sailing in his direction. It hit slightly to the left, bursting the jury box into flames. The sprinkler system kicked on, dousing the fire.

“Stop.” Another voice sounded from the back of the room, freezing both litigants in their places.

Jeanie turned her head, slow and hesitant, in the direction of the newcomer. “Rick. How lovely to see you.”

Ice blue eyes followed her every movement when she bent to pick up her bag from the floor. “What are the two of you doing here?” His tone brooked no argument. It was either answer or spend the next lifetime in some modified Hell.

Robert bounded out from behind the table, babbling away in a thick brogue. “She started it. Rick, you know she can’t control herself. She needs a different keeper, this one does. Set fire to my shop, she did!”

“All you’re missing is the pot of gold, you freakin’ Leprechaun,” she muttered.

Rick looked at Jeanie, long and steady before continuing. “You burned down his building?”

She toed the ground, unable to meet the knowing stare of her Master. “He started that one.”

“How?”

“He said that any pictures taken at the wedding would scare people because I wouldn’t be in any of them.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “I didn’t want them to show everyone else. I wanted them for me.”

Rick focused on the Leprechaun, making him squirm where he stood. “You need to head back to your country. Now.” He snapped his fingers and the little troublemaker disappeared.

Her voice no louder than a whisper, she said, “I’m sorry.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close to him. “For what? Wanting to remember our wedding day?” He kissed the top of her head. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Are you sure you’re not mad?”

“No, love. I’m not mad.” He stepped away, assessed the damage to the old room. “Where’s the lawyers?”

“Ah, yeah. About that.” She chewed her lip, earning her another kiss. “They were the first to go. You know they don’t know any magic?”

Rick laughed. “Not in this world, honey. You have to be more careful.”

She nodded her head, eager to please. “I’ll do better.”

“Okay. Head home, I’ll fix this.”

She brushed her hand over his, gave him a quick squeeze. “I’ll be waiting.” Jeanie reached for the knob when Rick spoke again.

“Jeanie?”

She looked back over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“Back in the bottle, love.”

Hi all! Here’s a new prompt for ya…

****

Callie watched her friend spin on the small riser by the mirrors. The train of the cream dress was bustled and swung in a pretty arch with the rest of the skirt. Sequins shimmered in the florescent light, giving Anne a look of fairies.

“It’s perfect.”  Callie said, flinching at the hitch in her voice. Damn.

Anne stopped, facing Callie. She paused for a moment before stepping down and crossing to her best friend. “ Are you okay?”

“Yep.” Never would she tell the truth and hurt her friend. “I’m fine.”

“Sure?” Worry dipped the corners of Anne’s mouth.

Callie felt terrible. Today was about her. “I’m sure.”

A chime from the front door drew their attention to the handsome man coming their way. His dark brown hair fell to his shoulders, framing a tanned face with bright green eyes. Callie couldn’t pull her eyes away. Not even as he bent to kiss Anne in greeting.

 “Thought I’d find you girls here.”

“Jim. You know it’s bad luck to see the dress.” Anne smiled up at him, lost to everyone around her.

Callie stifled the sigh. The adoration on Jim’s face was a beacon for everyone to see and Callie wished with everything in her that someone would look at her like that. “What are you doing here?”

“Rob wants to go out to dinner. You game?” he said.

Normally Jim’s friend was two steps behind him, ready to get into whatever trouble could be found. “Where’s Rob?”

“Right here.”

Callie almost came out of her skin as the whisky-rough voice whispered in her ear. She turned to find herself nose to nose with the man. “You scared me.”

He winked at her, his brown eyes warm with laughter. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

Rooted to the spot, she stared back at him. Curious at the butterflies in her belly.

Jim cleared his throat. “Are we going to dinner?”

Callie was first to move away, taking a deep breath. “Sure.”

Anne disappeared into the dressing room, calling for Callie after rounding the door. Callie fled, glad to escape the room.

As Anne stepped out of her dress, passing it to Callie, she said, “So, what’s got you down?”

“Nothing.” Callie turned her back to escape the hard stare from her friend.

“Hhm.” Anne pushed open the dressing room door, heading back out to the lobby. “When are you going to date again? Mike’s been gone over a year.”

Callie dropped her gaze, counting the floor tiles as she walked. “I want to find someone like Jim is for you.”

“Then all you have to do is open your eyes.”

“What?” Callie looked up at Rob’s interruption.

He blocked her path, slid one hand behind her neck, pulled her forward. Slow and easy, he settled his lips on hers. When he broke the kiss, he stayed close enough their breath mingled. “Did you understand that?”

 She wet her lips, feeling the tingle from his kiss. “No. I think you need to tell me again.”

Whew. Bet you didn’t know Monday came so late in the week, did you?

I’ve procrastinated long enough. On with my topic. Who reads your drafts?

This is one hot topic of conversation, let me tell you. Every other week on one of the social loops (yahoo) someone is posting a question about how to find beta readers, how to find critique partners, how many critique partners, do you need a professional editor, etc, etc, etc…

And those are all good questions. They basically boil down to who do you let read your drafts? Who do you trust to give you opinions? Who do you feel would benefit you the most? Who will tell you the truth… even when you don’t want to hear it? Who will offer you advice and alternative suggestions? Who will try their hardest to help you build your writing skills – instead of trying to tear you to shreds?

Bet you didn’t realize there were so many things to think of when settling in with a critique partner or beta reader, huh?

I am a firm believer in CPs. I believe that having someone else look at your work with a fresh set of eyes is the best thing you can do for your story. Plot holes will appear a mile wide to someone who isn’t actually writing the story, who doesn’t have all that back story in their mind, all nicely laid out for them.

I think it is a must – even if you’re contracted. If you already have an editor – you still need a CP. You just might not need five of them. 

I’ve settled into two CPs and one beta reader.

Everyone here knows by now that I write M/M contemporary romance under a pen name. When I write in this genre, I always talk to Mark who writes gay erotica. He is a fountain of information and never fails to tell me when I’m full of crap. Or if something is completely impossible. I think he gets the biggest kick out of pointing out my cliché moments. Probably because in the first draft, I always have so many of them. But he always follows it with suggestions, references, his thoughts. And he never fails to point out when I’ve done something well.

I have the same in my paranormal romance books like Elemental Gateways. Mark is always willing to look over something for me even though he doesn’t write this genre. But here I also have another CP. And Cindy is wonderful. She’s a teacher and fellow romance writer, so I have no doubt when she tells me something is wrong, it’s wrong. I trust her judgement and I owe a lot to her.

And, of course, my best bud – Tiffany – is my beta reader – because that’s what she is, a reader. Tiff will tell me in a flash when she doesn’t understand things (and she finds an inordinate amount of joy in pointing out my grammar mistakes… lol).

These three are my core group. They see my writing before anyone else does. I’m comfortable with that… Mostly.

Who do you let read your first drafts? Why?

How is everyone’s weekend going? Mine, rather well, thanks. Hubby is giving me some serious writing time and I’m making good use of most of it. I’ve put somewhere around 2500 words on paper and fleshed out the next book’s outline.

So I think we all deserve a reward… 

I haven’t posted anything in a while so check back on Monday and let’s talk about who reads your drafts before you submit.

I’ve been gone a while… but I have a good excuse, I swear. Well, actually I have a couple of excuses.

First, my basement flooded. Not Nashville-type flooding, just a couple inches really, but enough that it completely threw me out of whack.

Second, I went to a writers conference – In Maine. Yes. Maine.

Alone.

And it was the best thing I could have done. The gals who make up the Maine RWA group are some of the most friendly and supportive people you could imagine. From the moment I walked into registration on Friday at 5pm until after the closing dinner on Saturday night, I felt like I belonged there. That I wasn’t an outsider from Michigan.

Friday night we listened to a presentation by the Maine Ghost Hunters Society. They told us about their tools, their investigations, and their experiences. They answered any question we threw at them (and you know us writers can come up with some stellar questions). We had the bonus of getting to view some unedited clips from their investigations too. Really eery and really cool.

Saturday was workshops on first kisses and sex scenes with Terry McLaughlin followed by a workshop on how to blend paranormal with other genres (loved this one!) with Joyce Lamb. Then another workshop on voice with Terry. There were pitches to Lyrical Press editor Cynthia Thomas. Yes, I pitched my paranormal. And she requested to see it. Yea!

I got to know Joyce, Terry, Diane Amos, K.A. Mitchell, and a host of others (Emily, Helen, Deb to name a couple) who are all wonderful and made me feel at home right from the start. I sincerely hope that we don’t lose touch.

Dinner out to close the retreat was amazing. Twenty-five or so of us went to Macaroni Grille. The food was good, as usual. The service was great. What could make a normal MG experience amazing? Our waiter, Chadwick, sang opera. What are the odds that a group of romance writers would have a waiter like that? So… he sang us an Italian Love Song. That’s what made dinner amazing.

So I came away with new friends, a wonderful memory and a request for my paranormal. Not to mention the time I spent walking around downtown Portland, having the most delicious bowl of clam chowder ever (from Gilbert’s Chowder House), and shopping. All in all, a great weekend.

And for sure, I’m going back next year.

Spending time with the MERWA group showed me that stretching beyond our normal boundaries, extending past our own backyards, can be just as beneficial and rewarding as helping our own local chapters. I would never have pitched there without the prodding from Joyce and Diane (I won’t mention the chocolate bribe…reward. ) and would have missed the opportunity to meet Cyn and have her request my story.

So… do you have anything coming up that will get you out of your comfort zone?