Autumn Bardot's Blog, page 18

The Writing Process

I get asked a lot about my writing process.

What do you do first? How long does it take? Panster or planner? How many hours do you write a day?

Usually I ask why they want to  know.  Do you want to write a book? Are you currently writing a book? if the answer is no, my answer is simple. “I just write and revise until I’m happy with it.” The Writing Process isn’t exactly riveting cocktail party banter. But for those truly interested I share what works for me.

I’ve been writing for 4 years and my process has stayed the same but that’s because I’m all too familiar with writing academic essays and so have naturally integrated many of those same time-saving methods.

There are a thousand books and ‘masters classes’ that spend hundreds of pages and hours of video time detailing the process. Mine doesn’t take that long to explain.

First and foremost, everyone has their own process, a way to approach novel writing that works for their time, life, skill level, and talent. In no way is my way the best or only way. It’s only My Way because it works best for how I create and think.

It’s a good idea for writers to learn about other authors’ processes. It can inspire, motivate, or just be an affirmation that you’re normal. Whatever normal is. LOL.

The initial idea for a story comes to me. Sometimes it’s inspired by a trip, a photo, another story, a book, or an article. I grab my computer and hash out a rough plot line. There 7 basic story archetypes: overcoming the monster, rags to riches, the quest, voyage and return, comedy, tragedy, and rebirth. My plot will fit into one of them.
Research. Research. Research. Not just googling, which is fine but not the end all be all of research. I always end up buying out-of-print books that have more information and details than I’ll ever need or a reader wants to get bogged down with. The skeletal story—the conflicts and characters—begin emerging, grow flesh and personality.
Charts and tables. I make a cheat sheet of facts about geography, food, topography, weather, clothes, weapons, religion, jobs, and other relevant historical facts. I also make a character chart.
Plot a rough outline. Rough. Basic. Prelimanary. Maybe 2 pages. It’s not etched in stone. It shifts and changes as the story emerges and grows more complex.
First draft writing. I aim for 2000 words a day. I often do more. Sometimes less. The words and vocabulary are shit. The sentences, abysmal.The dialog, cringe-worthy. The rough draft includes Notes to Self  like  add detail, add emotion, and identify plant/animal/bug/food. Minor characters don’t have names yet. As I write, I  add character names, personality, gestures, appearance, things they say etc to my character chart. I don’t worry about grammatically incorrect sentences or wrong words. I let the story and characters flow out of me. I get the story down. I’d never in a million years show someone my rough draft.
Second draft. I add in the sensory details and address Notes to Self. I change the telling of emotion to the showing of emotion. I work on mood and detail. I rewrite every sentence. Every sentence . I delete paragraphs, slice dialog, and write from the heart. Or maybe the gut. Probably both.
The third draft is tweaking and rewriting. Again. And again.
The truth. I stop counting which rewrite I’m on. I’m done when the characters breathe and the words sing.

 

love and hugs, Autumn

PS

I’m giving away 4 Amazon gift cards July 11th to celebrate the cover reveal for Legends of Lust, Erotic Myths from around the World. Find giveaway information on Twitter, Facebook, and IG.

11 Ways Writing Novels Changed Me

Writing changes a person. For me, the changes were awesome!

Writing caused me to:

leave my comfort zone by the wayside. In fact, my comfort zone is so far away I don’t think I have one anymore. I’m willing to put myself ‘out there.’ Why not? What do I have to lose? I’ve yet to regret a single chance I took.
hone my writing and story-telling skills. Ways of telling (or in agent/editor lingo, showing) a story have changed. I’ve been around the block and see the changes. Some are good. Some are terrible. But I won’t get into that right now.
learn all sorts of new tech programs/platforms. Nothing is ‘intuitive’ for me. ( I hate that phrase, anyway.) Figuring out a new platform isn’t fun. I’d much rather be writing.But I figure it out and that’s very gratifying. Plus, I can brag to my tech-savvy adult children.
become a better listener. I never know when someone has a nugget—a phrase, a turn of words, a situation—I can use for a story.
not  take rejection personally. Sometimes I even laugh at the reasons. My favorite: It’s not what we’re looking for. *eye roll* Whatever…
keep persevering. I’ve got nothing to lose and everything to gain. Plus, it’s my zen. ( See cool Zen photo above.) Why would I ever give up on an activity that brings me so much amusement and gratification?
pay attention to a person. Tone of voice, gait, mannerisms, anything to make a character more real.
embrace my weirdness. Yeh, I sit around and write all day, prefer reading to partying, love research, and think of crazy stuff on a routine basis. So what? LOL
be more organized. I use technology. Pinterest, excel, dated folders, and no ‘final final draft’ titles. Ever.
really be in the moment, to engage all the senses, even when I’m just waiting for the server to bring my meal or sitting outside in the backyard. Being mindful helps me add sensory detail to my writing.
accept myself, flaws and all. I’ve written 7 books. And work full-time. BUT…I don’t go to the gym. ( I have a treadmill and a pool.) I hate bargain shopping. Pointing and clicking takes less time away from writing. My hair stylist has to beg me to come in for a trim. I almost never have the hot new nail color. And there’s always a chair full of ironing to do. But hey! I wrote a chapter today! YES!

 

How has writing novels changed you? We’ll compare notes!

Love & hugs,

Autumn

 

 

 

Taking the Plunge

I took the plunge five years ago!  Into novel writing. Into leaving my comfort zone. Into social media. Into taking risks. Into learning new techno platforms. Into rejection.

The plunge has been long and deep and quite bracing. But I’ll tell you this, I’m never bored. There’s always something that needs creating or writing or rewriting or platform-building or social media-growing.

Sometimes it feels like I’m just treading water. ( You’d think my thighs would be more muscular, LOL) Sometimes it feels like I’m riding the waves. And yes, sometimes, I feel like I’m drowning in all those decisions that an author has to make. Some big—like what to write next, which PR firm to hire. Some medium—does my bio need tweaking? Do readers read an author’s bio anyway? Some small—is this pic OK to post?  Am I posting/tweeting enough or too much?

I took the plunge five years ago. It’s changed me in ways that would take another blog. ( Next week.) Five years ago, on a whim, I decided to indulge my secret desire—writing novels. What began as dipping my toes in the water has become a long swim in the ocean.

Here’s a super-condensed version of my Plunge Taking journey.  Mind you, I’m a non-risk-taking introvert, so if I can do it you can too!

Began writing a novel despite not knowing if I had the determination, perseverance, and inclination to finish.
Finished writing that novel. I don’t remember how may rewrites it went through. A LOT.
Queried agents. SO scary!
Attended a RWA conference when I knew nobody. Anxiety central!
Started website and blogged my ass off ( different pen name).
Self-published 3 paranormal romance.
Jumped into another genre—historical fiction.
Got an agent!
Wrote 3 historical fiction.
Agent sent one of them out on submission. Got rejected.
Jumped into a 3rd genre—erotica! Legends of Lust, Erotic Myths From Around the World will be published by Cleis Press January 8, 2019.  My BIG lucky break!!!!.
Created yet another website, IG, and twitter account.
My agent moved agencies and was no longer interested in my historical fiction. Sad face.
Query time…again. Ugh.
Writing a historical erotica this summer. Click here for peek at a rough draft of the first page.


http://www.autumnbardot.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/Snapchat-1283967081.mp4

 

Sometimes, I feel like a fish out of water. Often I’m swimming against the current.  Usually, though, I glide through the writing ebbs and flows and try to concentrate on why I took the writing plunge anyway. Because I LOVE writing. It’s my Zen—wait, I need a fish/sea metaphor—it’s my High Tide.

As long as my dreams aren’t floating belly side up, it’s a good day.

What did you endeavor did you take the BIG plunge into?  Let me know! 

Love & hugs, Autumn

Sign up for Alerts by Autumn. That way you’ll get in on ALL the giveaways I’ll be having leading up to and after Legends of Lust, Erotic Myths from around the World releases Jan 8, 2019.  The first giveaway will be July 11th.

 

Stories Beget Stories

One thing often inspires another.

Be it buying a new dress, decorating your house, planning a meal, or even a quick trip to the grocery store! Writing a story is no different. Lucky for me, the release date for Legends of Lust~ Erotic Myths from around the World is not until January 8, 2019. So far away, right?! But it does give me plenty of time to expand upon a short story that was just begging to be told.

When a story talks ( more like shouting), I listen! One character in particular had me itching to telling her whole story. This famous, or infamous according to some accounts, woman is cloaked in mystery, legends, and myths, which made here whole story even more compelling to write.  Of course, that meant delving into three conflicting accounts: Christian, Jewish, and Ethiopian. Have you guess who it is?

The web is good place to start research but I find the best information comes from old books ( usually ) no longer in print. I took a gamble on one such book and—bingo! Amazing information and it had gorgeous photographs of topography and artifacts.

I’ll be working on this historical erotica all summer. Here’s a rough draft of the first few pages.  Don’t mind the typos, they get fixed eventually. I’m still debating titles as well!

~~~~~~~~~~~

I was born during a sandstorm. Momma said no one heard her screams as she squatted on the mat in the tent and pushed me from her womb. Before she had swaddled me a fine layer of sand had already clung to my sticky newborn skin.

“You didn’t breathe.” Momma would always touch her throat and shake her head during this part of the story of my birth. “So I breathed my life fire into you. Once. Twice. The third time, your tiny mouth opened and you gulped so much air I worried the sand in the air would choke you.” Here, momma always gasped for effect. “But you were determined and wailed to the heavens. And your face changed from purple to the golden color of resin from the myrrh tree.”

“And then what happened?” I asked each time despite knowing the story of my portentous birth since I was two years old.

“The next day an old Wise Woman walked out of the desert to tell my daughter, Bilqīs, was destined for greatness.” Momma always kissed my forehead at this point of the birth story.

“Did she know about you?” I did not ask this question until I was seven-years-old.

My momma, my beautiful dark-haired momma with ebony skin would press me to her abundant soft bosom and stroked my hair. “I doubt she knew I was once Queen Ismenie of Ophir—that was another time and place—but I suspected she did recognize the spirit of my smokeless fire.”

At this point in my birth story—told every year on my birthday—I would crinkle my eyes in search of the slightest deviation from momma’s version. “Was the Wise Woman afraid?”

“Terrified. She knew I could snap her neck in an instant.” Momma snapped her fingers. “Or fling her back to whatever desert hovel she came from with one throw.” Momma would take me in her strong djinn arms, lift me over her head, and spin me about. When I was little I squealed, half afraid of the speed at which my body whirled, half thrilling in the sensation. When I was older, I begged momma to spin me faster. Spiraling. Whirling. The blur of my surroundings. What could more exhilarating than the world slipping into the capricious realm of the divine? Or at least, that’s what if felt like it.

Momma spun me over her head until the day I became a woman.

“No more spinning, Bilqīs,” she said after I showed her the blood smeared between my thighs. “You’re a woman now.” Momma lifted the lid on a coffer and drew out length of fabric. “And you’re not just any woman, you are part djinn.”

I frowned. “What does my half djinn-ness have to do becoming a woman?”

~~~~~~

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Hugs & love,

Autumn