Jaime Rush's Blog, page 3
December 20, 2011
Randomness: BEYOND THE DARKNESS
She'd tried to engage him by reading aloud articles about what guys were really thinking in certain situations. Thankfully not the 'How to achieve ultimate orgasms' story promised in bold print on the cover.
"Here's a quiz. I love quizzes. Is your guy a keeper?" She eyed him playfully, raising her eyebrow. "Does he listen to you? Always, sometimes, or never. Do you listen?"
He ignored her.
"That'll be a never." She circled it. "Has he introduced you to his mother?" She tilted her head, studying him. "He hasn't even talked about his mother. Another never."
Honestly, he didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed. Annoyed was better, because he was no keeper. Her bored sighs sounded like the soft, breathy exhalations she'd utter if he were running his tongue along the inside of her thigh.
"How often does your guy turn into a scary, wild animal?"
"Here's a quiz. I love quizzes. Is your guy a keeper?" She eyed him playfully, raising her eyebrow. "Does he listen to you? Always, sometimes, or never. Do you listen?"
He ignored her.
"That'll be a never." She circled it. "Has he introduced you to his mother?" She tilted her head, studying him. "He hasn't even talked about his mother. Another never."
Honestly, he didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed. Annoyed was better, because he was no keeper. Her bored sighs sounded like the soft, breathy exhalations she'd utter if he were running his tongue along the inside of her thigh.
"How often does your guy turn into a scary, wild animal?"
December 12, 2011
Sneak Peek of Beyond the Darkness
She fished out the little foil-wrapped Dove chocolates she kept in her purse and tossed one in her mouth as she backed out of the spot. Back at the Center, she parked in the lot but remained in her car.
"You'd better not pretend you're not there," she muttered, closing her eyes and reaching out to Cheveyo. He had come to her, but she'd never gone to him. If they shared a connection, she should be able to talk to him, too.
She thought of his face, surprised at how easily she could conjure it in full detail, his thick, arched eyebrows, the curve of his mouth, his blue-gray eyes ablaze with a fierce protectiveness that squeezed her chest. Her heartbeat stepped up, a heavy, sensuous thudding that seemed to pump honey through her veins.
Cheveyo…
The connection was like two train cars locking onto each other. She felt him first. Then scenes flashed into her mind: a boy with blue-gray eyes and thick eyelashes staring pensively into the night sky; a dark alley, something moving in the shadows, and the flash of light on metal. The smell of blood. That same boy screaming in fear. Her body shuddered at those images.
The images went dark, and she saw him as he might appear in a dream, hazy and in a void. "Petra?"
She could hardly breathe. "Our connection goes both ways. I can reach you, too."
He didn't look particularly thrilled by that. "I heard you … felt you calling me."
"I need to see you. Not in a need to see you way. I mean … I'm in trouble."
"What's going on? I haven't gotten any visions."
"I don't mean to sound all conspiracy-ish, but I have to tell you in person. And as soon as possible."
"Petra, unless this is life and death, now is not a good time."
She gripped the bottom of her steering wheel, quelling her irritation, and the hurt that he would put her off. Was he with someone? Was she not important to him after all? "It's life and death. I wouldn't bother you otherwise." Okay, that had come out just a tiny bit snippy.
"All right. I'll meet you in an hour."
She gave him a location near the warehouse Pope had put in her mind. "See you soon."
She pulled out, feeling the loss of the connection tingle through her. Take a deep breath. It was only Cheveyo. No big deal. She called the number Pope had given her. "We're on, in an hour."
She went into the Center and spent twenty minutes hunting for makeup deals on eBay. Sometimes she could find brand-name product for a great price. Only Cheveyo could distract her from the joy of bargain hunting. She put in two bids and logged out of her account. A few minutes later, she walked out to the parking lot.
As she reached for her door handle, a man standing by his car two spaces away caught her eye. She'd seen him earlier that day in downtown Annapolis. A normal person might think it was a coincidence and nothing more, given that he was nice looking, dressed in business attire. After everything she'd been through, she'd developed a healthy respect for her sixth sense, and it was telling her something wasn't right. Their gazes met, and she held his for a moment, letting him know that if he had any devious thoughts, she was onto him.
He gave her a nod before getting into his car. She dropped into her seat and locked the doors, but waited until he'd backed out of his spot and left the lot.
Paranoid? Maybe. Deservedly so. She took the rear entrance out of the lot.
She pulled into the gas station and waited in her car for Cheveyo. She had a full five minutes left to wait. "Breathe." Her nerves felt like an army of ants marching inside her stomach. "Look, there's no point in getting excited or anything. He only came because you fudged the truth. So seeing him means … nothing."
Still, she couldn't help but braid her hair, loosen it, and braid it again. The silky strands sliding around her fingers was comforting, even more so than cracking her knuckles had been. And she didn't have to see people grimace or hear lectures about developing arthritis later in life.
She glanced in the mirror, using her nail to scrape away a slight overlap in her lipstick. The only reason she'd taken the time to pretty up was because she wanted him to see what he was missing. Not that she went anywhere, even to the store, without going through her routine.
"So there, buddy. Too late now. I've got a date with a nice, normal guy tonight, to go along with my nice, normal life, which I love. Besides, who needs a guy that turns into a cat? Probably get cat hairs all over the furniture--"
A shadow fell across her lap, and she jumped. Cheveyo leaned sideways in front of her windshield, his hand braced on the hood. Her heart jumped, too, because that's what looking into his smoky blue-gray eyes did to her. How had she missed hearing him ride up?
She pushed the door open and got out, cringing at the breathless quality of her voice when she said, "Hi." Not helping at all were the high heels she was wobbling on.
Really not helping was how damned gorgeous he looked, his wavy dark hair tied back with a leather strap that matched the black bomber jacket he wore. It was unzipped, and beneath, a dark red shirt was unbuttoned enough to reveal a sprinkling of dark hair and a silver charm on a chain at his neck. Oh, geez, she hoped she didn't look gooey and dewy.
He glanced in her car, his eyebrow arched. "Who were you talking to?"
"Uh … no one. The car. I was muttering to my car. It's temperamental sometimes."
He looked tense, his gaze shifting to his surroundings before returning to her. She'd seen that particular type of awareness before, when they were being hunted. Or maybe he suspected she was going to spring the Rogues on him, as adamant as he was that they not meet. Or spring herself on him. Fat chance.
His gaze softened as it swept over her, but it sharpened again, all business. "What's going on?"
She nodded toward the warehouses half a block away. The transportation company that had used these waterfront metal buildings had gone out of business, leaving the area abandoned. A sign had been promising an upscale shopping revitalization, but the economy had probably put that on hold.
"Follow me over there."
He arched his eyebrow again, this time aiming his puzzled look at her. Then he shrugged and walked over to his black Harley. He had a smooth, powerful gait, efficient but not hurried. She was reminded of those wildlife shows where a lion walks his territory. In one move he got onto the bike and started it. When he looked at her, she realized she'd been too busy looking at him and not getting her car started.
He fell in behind her as she pulled through the tall fence that was opened just enough to let a car pass through. Otherwise NO TRESPASSING signs made anyone think twice about entering. The artist's rendering for the future shopping area had faded beneath the graffiti.
She parked, and he pulled up beside her and dismounted. His black boots scraped on the faded asphalt as he walked beside her toward the door of the building she remembered. He smelled of fresh air and a smoky fragrance that wasn't tobacco. She remembered the images of the boy she'd seen, but the most vivid memories where when he'd held her in his arms and coaxed her back from death, whispering Babe in her ears, emotion in his voice when he—
"Why don't you look like you're in a life and death situation?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.
"What do you mean? Oh, because I'm not freaking out?" He knew her well, which drove her crazy. Babe, I know a lot, he'd told her once, a ghost of a smile on his face.
"Yeah."
She took a breath at the door, not quite meeting his face. "Come in, and I'll explain everything."
She opened the door and stepped inside. His gaze scanned the interior of the large, empty building. Empty. Great, where was Pope?
She turned to Cheveyo. "Because it's not exactly my life and death."
"You'd better not pretend you're not there," she muttered, closing her eyes and reaching out to Cheveyo. He had come to her, but she'd never gone to him. If they shared a connection, she should be able to talk to him, too.
She thought of his face, surprised at how easily she could conjure it in full detail, his thick, arched eyebrows, the curve of his mouth, his blue-gray eyes ablaze with a fierce protectiveness that squeezed her chest. Her heartbeat stepped up, a heavy, sensuous thudding that seemed to pump honey through her veins.
Cheveyo…
The connection was like two train cars locking onto each other. She felt him first. Then scenes flashed into her mind: a boy with blue-gray eyes and thick eyelashes staring pensively into the night sky; a dark alley, something moving in the shadows, and the flash of light on metal. The smell of blood. That same boy screaming in fear. Her body shuddered at those images.
The images went dark, and she saw him as he might appear in a dream, hazy and in a void. "Petra?"
She could hardly breathe. "Our connection goes both ways. I can reach you, too."
He didn't look particularly thrilled by that. "I heard you … felt you calling me."
"I need to see you. Not in a need to see you way. I mean … I'm in trouble."
"What's going on? I haven't gotten any visions."
"I don't mean to sound all conspiracy-ish, but I have to tell you in person. And as soon as possible."
"Petra, unless this is life and death, now is not a good time."
She gripped the bottom of her steering wheel, quelling her irritation, and the hurt that he would put her off. Was he with someone? Was she not important to him after all? "It's life and death. I wouldn't bother you otherwise." Okay, that had come out just a tiny bit snippy.
"All right. I'll meet you in an hour."
She gave him a location near the warehouse Pope had put in her mind. "See you soon."
She pulled out, feeling the loss of the connection tingle through her. Take a deep breath. It was only Cheveyo. No big deal. She called the number Pope had given her. "We're on, in an hour."
She went into the Center and spent twenty minutes hunting for makeup deals on eBay. Sometimes she could find brand-name product for a great price. Only Cheveyo could distract her from the joy of bargain hunting. She put in two bids and logged out of her account. A few minutes later, she walked out to the parking lot.
As she reached for her door handle, a man standing by his car two spaces away caught her eye. She'd seen him earlier that day in downtown Annapolis. A normal person might think it was a coincidence and nothing more, given that he was nice looking, dressed in business attire. After everything she'd been through, she'd developed a healthy respect for her sixth sense, and it was telling her something wasn't right. Their gazes met, and she held his for a moment, letting him know that if he had any devious thoughts, she was onto him.
He gave her a nod before getting into his car. She dropped into her seat and locked the doors, but waited until he'd backed out of his spot and left the lot.
Paranoid? Maybe. Deservedly so. She took the rear entrance out of the lot.
She pulled into the gas station and waited in her car for Cheveyo. She had a full five minutes left to wait. "Breathe." Her nerves felt like an army of ants marching inside her stomach. "Look, there's no point in getting excited or anything. He only came because you fudged the truth. So seeing him means … nothing."
Still, she couldn't help but braid her hair, loosen it, and braid it again. The silky strands sliding around her fingers was comforting, even more so than cracking her knuckles had been. And she didn't have to see people grimace or hear lectures about developing arthritis later in life.
She glanced in the mirror, using her nail to scrape away a slight overlap in her lipstick. The only reason she'd taken the time to pretty up was because she wanted him to see what he was missing. Not that she went anywhere, even to the store, without going through her routine.
"So there, buddy. Too late now. I've got a date with a nice, normal guy tonight, to go along with my nice, normal life, which I love. Besides, who needs a guy that turns into a cat? Probably get cat hairs all over the furniture--"
A shadow fell across her lap, and she jumped. Cheveyo leaned sideways in front of her windshield, his hand braced on the hood. Her heart jumped, too, because that's what looking into his smoky blue-gray eyes did to her. How had she missed hearing him ride up?
She pushed the door open and got out, cringing at the breathless quality of her voice when she said, "Hi." Not helping at all were the high heels she was wobbling on.
Really not helping was how damned gorgeous he looked, his wavy dark hair tied back with a leather strap that matched the black bomber jacket he wore. It was unzipped, and beneath, a dark red shirt was unbuttoned enough to reveal a sprinkling of dark hair and a silver charm on a chain at his neck. Oh, geez, she hoped she didn't look gooey and dewy.
He glanced in her car, his eyebrow arched. "Who were you talking to?"
"Uh … no one. The car. I was muttering to my car. It's temperamental sometimes."
He looked tense, his gaze shifting to his surroundings before returning to her. She'd seen that particular type of awareness before, when they were being hunted. Or maybe he suspected she was going to spring the Rogues on him, as adamant as he was that they not meet. Or spring herself on him. Fat chance.
His gaze softened as it swept over her, but it sharpened again, all business. "What's going on?"
She nodded toward the warehouses half a block away. The transportation company that had used these waterfront metal buildings had gone out of business, leaving the area abandoned. A sign had been promising an upscale shopping revitalization, but the economy had probably put that on hold.
"Follow me over there."
He arched his eyebrow again, this time aiming his puzzled look at her. Then he shrugged and walked over to his black Harley. He had a smooth, powerful gait, efficient but not hurried. She was reminded of those wildlife shows where a lion walks his territory. In one move he got onto the bike and started it. When he looked at her, she realized she'd been too busy looking at him and not getting her car started.
He fell in behind her as she pulled through the tall fence that was opened just enough to let a car pass through. Otherwise NO TRESPASSING signs made anyone think twice about entering. The artist's rendering for the future shopping area had faded beneath the graffiti.
She parked, and he pulled up beside her and dismounted. His black boots scraped on the faded asphalt as he walked beside her toward the door of the building she remembered. He smelled of fresh air and a smoky fragrance that wasn't tobacco. She remembered the images of the boy she'd seen, but the most vivid memories where when he'd held her in his arms and coaxed her back from death, whispering Babe in her ears, emotion in his voice when he—
"Why don't you look like you're in a life and death situation?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.
"What do you mean? Oh, because I'm not freaking out?" He knew her well, which drove her crazy. Babe, I know a lot, he'd told her once, a ghost of a smile on his face.
"Yeah."
She took a breath at the door, not quite meeting his face. "Come in, and I'll explain everything."
She opened the door and stepped inside. His gaze scanned the interior of the large, empty building. Empty. Great, where was Pope?
She turned to Cheveyo. "Because it's not exactly my life and death."
December 9, 2011
Random Lines from Beyond the Darkness
I know cats hate being wet." Petra gave him a smile to let him know she wasn't being mean.
Cheveyo raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you, now?"
"And they love their chin scratched." She crooked her fingers.
"They also mount females from behind."
She narrowed her eyes at him. So much for light flirting.
Cheveyo raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you, now?"
"And they love their chin scratched." She crooked her fingers.
"They also mount females from behind."
She narrowed her eyes at him. So much for light flirting.
October 17, 2011
Interview with a Pyro
For the fourth book in my Offspring series, BURNING DARKNESS, I thought I'd interview the main character, Eric Aruda. Eric has been in the series from the beginning, fascinating, irritating, and heating up readers. Me, too, for that matter. So I sat down with Eric and--
Eric [arms crossed over chest]: I heard you wanted to kill me off in the beginning.
Jaime: Well, I was going to introduce you, but I guess we'll jump right in. Who told you that?
Eric: I peeked at your notes, you know, the early proposals and stuff.
Jaime: Figures. No, I hadn't exactly planned to kill you.
Eric: Define exactly.
Jaime: I figured you'd probably kill yourself off. You know, blow yourself up in a blaze of flames or maybe race into an ambush and get shot up.
Eric [shoulders widening, nodding, with a smile]: Yeah, I could see that. Go out in a big way. Like that Bon Jovi song, "Blaze of Glory." Smile fades. But then I'm gone, and that wouldn't be cool. What had me worried most was that you've killed off secondary characters before.
Jaime: I have. [stifling evil laugh] It's not easy to do. I even killed off one of the Offspring, but we never got to know him. We definitely got to know you.
Eric: How come you said it like that? Like, what, I was hard to know?
Jaime: Let's just say, you came on a little, er, strong. There were a few characters who wanted to kill you off. Amy sure had her moments.
Eric: Amy. My half-sister. And you had me kissing her before I knew about that. Sick, man.
Jaime: You did that all on your own, buddy. Actually, I don't think I even knew you were related at that point. And what about that scene on the couch—
Eric: Let's not go there. I didn't know I was going to be a hero. I would have used a little more discretion.
Jaime: Really?
Eric: Eh, probably not. But even in my book, you tried to do me in. Pair me up with a woman bent on homicide. No one else had a homicidal lover.
Jaime [not containing evil laugh]: She's your perfect match, isn't she? I loved the scene when you realized she was a lot like you. And when you kissed her and she accused you of kissing yourself. But you know, I didn't plan on Fonda being your woman. It just sort of happened. Kind of like you being a hero in your own book. It's fun not to know all the details in the beginning.
Eric: I'm the big pain in the ass. I deserved to be in my own book.
Jaime: Yes, you are.
Eric: Don't you mean 'Yes, you do'?
Jaime: Nope, just yes you are.
Eric: Now I know where I get it from.
Jaime: Get what from? Are you saying--?
Eric: If the shoe fits, babe.
Jaime: Maybe so, but your pain-in-the-assness came from you, all the way.
Eric: And you loved it.
Jaime: Oh, yeah. [ahem] You're arrogant and stubborn and hot and you made me realize why women readers love alpha males.
Eric [grins]: Glad I could oblige. And I look good naked, too.
Jaime: oh, my, yes. That was another favorite scene of mine, when you were changing at the park, and Fonda is totally thrown off by your nonchalance. So, what was your favorite part of your story? Okay, besides the sex scenes.
Eric [grinning, staring off into the distance]: I do like the sex scenes.
Jaime: Uh, Eric, can we go back to the question?
Eric: Question? Oh, favorite scene besides the sex! [scratches chin, slow, evil grin] The airplane propeller scene.
Jaime: I thought you might pick that one. That was pretty cool, wasn't it?
Eric: Can we do it again?
Jaime: That was a once-in-a-lifetime scene, and it was just for you.
Eric: Kewl. So, one question for you: will I get to come back?
Jaime [rolling eyes]: Only if you're a good boy.
Eric [laughs]: Yeah, like that's going to happen.
Jaime: That's what we love about you. Bad-assed, but tender-hearted—
Eric: Don't tell anyone about that part. I've got a rep, you know.
Jaime: Oh, I know. But it was sure fun watching you fall.
BURNING DARKNESS, Book Four of the Offspring Series
By Jaime Rush
Avon Books, Feb, 2011 (ISBN 978-0-06-201885-4)
RT Book Reviews, The Book Reviews, and Night Owl Reviews Top Picks!
Fonda Raine lives for one thing: killing Eric Aruda for slaying her lover. But she'll have to be careful--Eric can set fires with his mind. Seconds from plunging a knife into his heart, an assassin tries to take them both out. Now, she must choose: join forces with the man who's burning through her defenses or go down in flames.
Eric [arms crossed over chest]: I heard you wanted to kill me off in the beginning.
Jaime: Well, I was going to introduce you, but I guess we'll jump right in. Who told you that?
Eric: I peeked at your notes, you know, the early proposals and stuff.
Jaime: Figures. No, I hadn't exactly planned to kill you.
Eric: Define exactly.
Jaime: I figured you'd probably kill yourself off. You know, blow yourself up in a blaze of flames or maybe race into an ambush and get shot up.
Eric [shoulders widening, nodding, with a smile]: Yeah, I could see that. Go out in a big way. Like that Bon Jovi song, "Blaze of Glory." Smile fades. But then I'm gone, and that wouldn't be cool. What had me worried most was that you've killed off secondary characters before.
Jaime: I have. [stifling evil laugh] It's not easy to do. I even killed off one of the Offspring, but we never got to know him. We definitely got to know you.
Eric: How come you said it like that? Like, what, I was hard to know?
Jaime: Let's just say, you came on a little, er, strong. There were a few characters who wanted to kill you off. Amy sure had her moments.
Eric: Amy. My half-sister. And you had me kissing her before I knew about that. Sick, man.
Jaime: You did that all on your own, buddy. Actually, I don't think I even knew you were related at that point. And what about that scene on the couch—
Eric: Let's not go there. I didn't know I was going to be a hero. I would have used a little more discretion.
Jaime: Really?
Eric: Eh, probably not. But even in my book, you tried to do me in. Pair me up with a woman bent on homicide. No one else had a homicidal lover.
Jaime [not containing evil laugh]: She's your perfect match, isn't she? I loved the scene when you realized she was a lot like you. And when you kissed her and she accused you of kissing yourself. But you know, I didn't plan on Fonda being your woman. It just sort of happened. Kind of like you being a hero in your own book. It's fun not to know all the details in the beginning.
Eric: I'm the big pain in the ass. I deserved to be in my own book.
Jaime: Yes, you are.
Eric: Don't you mean 'Yes, you do'?
Jaime: Nope, just yes you are.
Eric: Now I know where I get it from.
Jaime: Get what from? Are you saying--?
Eric: If the shoe fits, babe.
Jaime: Maybe so, but your pain-in-the-assness came from you, all the way.
Eric: And you loved it.
Jaime: Oh, yeah. [ahem] You're arrogant and stubborn and hot and you made me realize why women readers love alpha males.
Eric [grins]: Glad I could oblige. And I look good naked, too.
Jaime: oh, my, yes. That was another favorite scene of mine, when you were changing at the park, and Fonda is totally thrown off by your nonchalance. So, what was your favorite part of your story? Okay, besides the sex scenes.
Eric [grinning, staring off into the distance]: I do like the sex scenes.
Jaime: Uh, Eric, can we go back to the question?
Eric: Question? Oh, favorite scene besides the sex! [scratches chin, slow, evil grin] The airplane propeller scene.
Jaime: I thought you might pick that one. That was pretty cool, wasn't it?
Eric: Can we do it again?
Jaime: That was a once-in-a-lifetime scene, and it was just for you.
Eric: Kewl. So, one question for you: will I get to come back?
Jaime [rolling eyes]: Only if you're a good boy.
Eric [laughs]: Yeah, like that's going to happen.
Jaime: That's what we love about you. Bad-assed, but tender-hearted—
Eric: Don't tell anyone about that part. I've got a rep, you know.
Jaime: Oh, I know. But it was sure fun watching you fall.
BURNING DARKNESS, Book Four of the Offspring Series
By Jaime Rush
Avon Books, Feb, 2011 (ISBN 978-0-06-201885-4)
RT Book Reviews, The Book Reviews, and Night Owl Reviews Top Picks!
Fonda Raine lives for one thing: killing Eric Aruda for slaying her lover. But she'll have to be careful--Eric can set fires with his mind. Seconds from plunging a knife into his heart, an assassin tries to take them both out. Now, she must choose: join forces with the man who's burning through her defenses or go down in flames.
May 21, 2011
Pantser or Plotter
Blog post:
Writers usually fall into one of two categories. Those who write by the seats of their pants are called Pantsers. Those who plot ahead are called Plotters. Frankly, I don't think either word sounds good, but maybe that's just me.
Speaking of "me"...I guess I'd be considered a Plotter. I like to have a handle on how the story unfolds, twists and turns, and the characters (everything from their childhoods, vulnerabilities, to what's in their fridge). My synopses tend to run about 4-5 pages, so there is not a lot of detail, nor is anything set in stone.
Not only is the synopsis a good planning tool for my writing, ensuring that I don’t write myself into a corner, it’s also something my editor wants to see before I proceed. Synopsis writing can be hair-pulling, yes, with some of the biggest decisions centering on how much to include and how much to leave out while being clear.
But at the beginning of this year, I had the fun and yet hair-pulling task of figuring out where the Offspring series was going in the next three books and working on connected novellas in a whole new world/series. It’s hard enough to figure out one book, much less connected books. I knew the characters somewhat, knew the overall plots somewhat, and yet I could not get farther than that. I spent days with my notepad looking at the lake, scribbling a word here or there, looking at the birds, another word … you get the idea. At the end of the day, I was no further than I’d been at the beginning. Frustrating to say the least, because I loved what I knew, and I’m stoked about the new world. But there are a lot (and I mean a LOT) of details to figure out.
Plotting wasn’t working for me. So I decided to become a Pantser. Pantsing is in me. For instance, there were aspects of my Offspring series that remained a mystery to me for several books. Specifically, though I knew my Offsprings’ parents had been given a mysterious substance that enhanced their psychic abilities in a top-secret government program, I had no idea what the substance was or where it came from. A character named Pope played into the series from the first book, making a brief appearance here and there, and I had no idea who he was. It was a lot of fun to let it flow as the series evolved, and the answers were a scream.
I had no answers with the new projects, so I looked at the questions. What was going on in the plot? How would the romance start and progress and what would keep it from going smoothly?
What helped in these two new projects was having a sense of how they started. So I sat down and started writing the opening scene of both.
This is what I got from the novella I was to write in my new world:
Kirin lifted his head and looked at the clock. Who the hell was calling at six on a Sunday morning? Snarl in place, he yanked up his cell phone and squinted at the number. His twin sister. She didn’t usually call at ungodly hours, which meant something was up.
The word “Yeah?” scratched out of his throat.
“You have to come home,” Lyra said without preamble.
The order prickled across his skin. “Like hell.”
“Pop’s missing.”
He sat up. “Oh, is there a celebration then?”
“Kirin, please. He’s been missing for two days. You know that’s not like him, whatever his faults.” Taking his silence as more resistance, she added, “Ellie’s back in town, too.”
Hmm. Pop’s missing, and Kirin’s really pissed at him. Why? What’s happened to Pop? And what happened with Ellie? It was fun finding out those answers, but what I needed to begin with were the right questions, the ones that tantalized me.
I got about forty pages into the next Offspring story and then things started to click. More like CLICK. It’s a feeling, like stepping through the portal into the world, feeling it and the characters. That’s when I start getting spacey and forget that I’ve put broccoli in the steamer until I see the light on the contraption the next morning. I love the spacey feeling.
What I learned is that it’s okay to change the process, even if you’ve been using it for several books successfully. I'll probably go back to it, but maybe I'll be a … Plotser? That’s what writing is all about, the flow, and going with it. Heck, that’s what life is about.
Go with the flow, my friends and see where it takes you.
Writers usually fall into one of two categories. Those who write by the seats of their pants are called Pantsers. Those who plot ahead are called Plotters. Frankly, I don't think either word sounds good, but maybe that's just me.
Speaking of "me"...I guess I'd be considered a Plotter. I like to have a handle on how the story unfolds, twists and turns, and the characters (everything from their childhoods, vulnerabilities, to what's in their fridge). My synopses tend to run about 4-5 pages, so there is not a lot of detail, nor is anything set in stone.
Not only is the synopsis a good planning tool for my writing, ensuring that I don’t write myself into a corner, it’s also something my editor wants to see before I proceed. Synopsis writing can be hair-pulling, yes, with some of the biggest decisions centering on how much to include and how much to leave out while being clear.
But at the beginning of this year, I had the fun and yet hair-pulling task of figuring out where the Offspring series was going in the next three books and working on connected novellas in a whole new world/series. It’s hard enough to figure out one book, much less connected books. I knew the characters somewhat, knew the overall plots somewhat, and yet I could not get farther than that. I spent days with my notepad looking at the lake, scribbling a word here or there, looking at the birds, another word … you get the idea. At the end of the day, I was no further than I’d been at the beginning. Frustrating to say the least, because I loved what I knew, and I’m stoked about the new world. But there are a lot (and I mean a LOT) of details to figure out.
Plotting wasn’t working for me. So I decided to become a Pantser. Pantsing is in me. For instance, there were aspects of my Offspring series that remained a mystery to me for several books. Specifically, though I knew my Offsprings’ parents had been given a mysterious substance that enhanced their psychic abilities in a top-secret government program, I had no idea what the substance was or where it came from. A character named Pope played into the series from the first book, making a brief appearance here and there, and I had no idea who he was. It was a lot of fun to let it flow as the series evolved, and the answers were a scream.
I had no answers with the new projects, so I looked at the questions. What was going on in the plot? How would the romance start and progress and what would keep it from going smoothly?
What helped in these two new projects was having a sense of how they started. So I sat down and started writing the opening scene of both.
This is what I got from the novella I was to write in my new world:
Kirin lifted his head and looked at the clock. Who the hell was calling at six on a Sunday morning? Snarl in place, he yanked up his cell phone and squinted at the number. His twin sister. She didn’t usually call at ungodly hours, which meant something was up.
The word “Yeah?” scratched out of his throat.
“You have to come home,” Lyra said without preamble.
The order prickled across his skin. “Like hell.”
“Pop’s missing.”
He sat up. “Oh, is there a celebration then?”
“Kirin, please. He’s been missing for two days. You know that’s not like him, whatever his faults.” Taking his silence as more resistance, she added, “Ellie’s back in town, too.”
Hmm. Pop’s missing, and Kirin’s really pissed at him. Why? What’s happened to Pop? And what happened with Ellie? It was fun finding out those answers, but what I needed to begin with were the right questions, the ones that tantalized me.
I got about forty pages into the next Offspring story and then things started to click. More like CLICK. It’s a feeling, like stepping through the portal into the world, feeling it and the characters. That’s when I start getting spacey and forget that I’ve put broccoli in the steamer until I see the light on the contraption the next morning. I love the spacey feeling.
What I learned is that it’s okay to change the process, even if you’ve been using it for several books successfully. I'll probably go back to it, but maybe I'll be a … Plotser? That’s what writing is all about, the flow, and going with it. Heck, that’s what life is about.
Go with the flow, my friends and see where it takes you.
January 31, 2011
Will e-books kill the fiction star? The future of books and bookstores.
Yesterday I had five agents and one NY editor in one place and I got to ask them anything I wanted. As it happened, I was moderating a panel for my chapter's conference. So I asked the question that's been on my mind lately: how will e-books change the future of bookstores, publishers, and authors? Frankly, with bookstores teetering and falling, even the biggies, I'm worried.
One agent said, "I think your question is THE question in the industry right now."
I wasn't able to take notes, being the moderator, so I'll give my general impression of the answers given. Another agent said that fifteen years ago there were no book superstores, and in ten years there won't be any again. That was very depressing, because how many of us love hanging out in the bookstore, perusing the shelves, or plunking down on the floor in the aisle with a stack of books to check out? I know I do. Just the feel and the smell of the store, coffee and paper and all those pretty covers … What about booksignings? Popping into a store and finding a signed copy? Authors can't sign e-books (though I know one who was asked to sign a Kindle itself!).
I think publishers are a little worried, too. Not only are they losing critical outlets for sales with all of the bookstore closings, but what will happen to them if e-books dominate the sales? Or when, I should say. With authors beginning to sell their backlist directly to readers through Kindle, Nook, etc., how long until they skip the publisher altogether?
The editor on the panel reminded us that their editing, expertise, marketing, and cover art designs are a critical component to the success of a book. Anyone can throw their work out there nowadays, get their friends and family to post some great reviews, and call themselves an author. But what guarantees that the book will even be readable? I know, I hear you. There are professionally published books that some deem unreadable, but without editors and copyeditors, the odds go way up.
Here's what authors are worried about: How will you find out about our new books? Or books that aren't getting publicity and promotion bucks to get ads and such? You can sign up for your favorite authors' newsletters, but how will you discover the new or new-to-you author? The Internet will be the main place, I suppose, with review blogs and publishers' websites, and reader communities like GoodReads. Word of mouth will play a big role, and it always been the Holy Grail of success for authors. Talking up your favorite books and authors helps them to stay alive in this competitive and changing industry.
One panelist said it was imperative to have an online presence. And that doesn't mean leaving a "My book is out!" dropping in reader's forums and never returning. You have to be part of a community, interacting regularly and developing relationships. Yeah, it's work and time, but it's also fun. Pick and choose the forums you can devote your time to.
This e-book revolution will impact booksellers, readers, publishers and authors. Yet, reading e-books has a lot of advantages. I like the greenness of e-books. I love the fact that they're never stripped and returned to the publisher by the bookstore. Having just seen a box of stripped books ready for the recycle bin, I can't tell you how heartbreaking it was. For those who don't know, those books you see in on the shelves are on consignment. If they don't sell in the time allotted, sometimes as short as a few weeks, paperback covers get stripped and sent back to the publisher for credit.
We had about sixty people in the audience, and one of our panelists asked how many people had bought a physical book in the last week. About a third raised their hand. Then she asked how many had bought an e-book in the last week. Again, about a third raised their hand. Some were the same people. Right now about 10% of a book's sales is electronic, according to one panelist, but that number is steadily growing.
There are people who love the feel of a book in their hand, the smell of the paper, the beauty of the cover. One panelist said, "The paperback's had a good run." Meaning, that run is about over. No one argued with that, but some maintained that the physical book will never go completely away. I hope they're right.
The overall take was that e-books are a good thing for the industry … and inevitable. Stories will never go away as long as there are people who want them. That brings me to you readers out there. If you want your favorite authors to keep writing, they have to be able to make some kind of living from them. Spread the word, talk them up, and buy their books. Don't ever download a book from a "free" piracy site. If you want your favorite bookstore to stay alive, support them, too.
Funny thing is, word of mouth is free to you, and like gold to us authors. So are you, dear readers, booksellers, and librarians.
What's your take?
One agent said, "I think your question is THE question in the industry right now."
I wasn't able to take notes, being the moderator, so I'll give my general impression of the answers given. Another agent said that fifteen years ago there were no book superstores, and in ten years there won't be any again. That was very depressing, because how many of us love hanging out in the bookstore, perusing the shelves, or plunking down on the floor in the aisle with a stack of books to check out? I know I do. Just the feel and the smell of the store, coffee and paper and all those pretty covers … What about booksignings? Popping into a store and finding a signed copy? Authors can't sign e-books (though I know one who was asked to sign a Kindle itself!).
I think publishers are a little worried, too. Not only are they losing critical outlets for sales with all of the bookstore closings, but what will happen to them if e-books dominate the sales? Or when, I should say. With authors beginning to sell their backlist directly to readers through Kindle, Nook, etc., how long until they skip the publisher altogether?
The editor on the panel reminded us that their editing, expertise, marketing, and cover art designs are a critical component to the success of a book. Anyone can throw their work out there nowadays, get their friends and family to post some great reviews, and call themselves an author. But what guarantees that the book will even be readable? I know, I hear you. There are professionally published books that some deem unreadable, but without editors and copyeditors, the odds go way up.
Here's what authors are worried about: How will you find out about our new books? Or books that aren't getting publicity and promotion bucks to get ads and such? You can sign up for your favorite authors' newsletters, but how will you discover the new or new-to-you author? The Internet will be the main place, I suppose, with review blogs and publishers' websites, and reader communities like GoodReads. Word of mouth will play a big role, and it always been the Holy Grail of success for authors. Talking up your favorite books and authors helps them to stay alive in this competitive and changing industry.
One panelist said it was imperative to have an online presence. And that doesn't mean leaving a "My book is out!" dropping in reader's forums and never returning. You have to be part of a community, interacting regularly and developing relationships. Yeah, it's work and time, but it's also fun. Pick and choose the forums you can devote your time to.
This e-book revolution will impact booksellers, readers, publishers and authors. Yet, reading e-books has a lot of advantages. I like the greenness of e-books. I love the fact that they're never stripped and returned to the publisher by the bookstore. Having just seen a box of stripped books ready for the recycle bin, I can't tell you how heartbreaking it was. For those who don't know, those books you see in on the shelves are on consignment. If they don't sell in the time allotted, sometimes as short as a few weeks, paperback covers get stripped and sent back to the publisher for credit.
We had about sixty people in the audience, and one of our panelists asked how many people had bought a physical book in the last week. About a third raised their hand. Then she asked how many had bought an e-book in the last week. Again, about a third raised their hand. Some were the same people. Right now about 10% of a book's sales is electronic, according to one panelist, but that number is steadily growing.
There are people who love the feel of a book in their hand, the smell of the paper, the beauty of the cover. One panelist said, "The paperback's had a good run." Meaning, that run is about over. No one argued with that, but some maintained that the physical book will never go completely away. I hope they're right.
The overall take was that e-books are a good thing for the industry … and inevitable. Stories will never go away as long as there are people who want them. That brings me to you readers out there. If you want your favorite authors to keep writing, they have to be able to make some kind of living from them. Spread the word, talk them up, and buy their books. Don't ever download a book from a "free" piracy site. If you want your favorite bookstore to stay alive, support them, too.
Funny thing is, word of mouth is free to you, and like gold to us authors. So are you, dear readers, booksellers, and librarians.
What's your take?
January 24, 2011
How release day is like having a baby
After many months, the kid has finally come out … both joy and relief!
We love to hear how beautiful and brilliant our baby is.
We want to show pictures and good reviews to everyone ad nauseum.
It's our publicist shouting, "Push! Push!" instead of a doctor. (No, not really!)
Holding our baby in our hand … priceless. ::SIGH::
We love to hear how beautiful and brilliant our baby is.
We want to show pictures and good reviews to everyone ad nauseum.
It's our publicist shouting, "Push! Push!" instead of a doctor. (No, not really!)
Holding our baby in our hand … priceless. ::SIGH::
December 15, 2010
Um, what is it that I write again?
When people ask me what kind of books I write, I tend to toss out different answers: paranormal romantic suspense; supernatural romantic thrillers; psychic romantic suspense; urban fantasy romance. It really embodies all of that.
Paranormal, yes. My characters possess psychic abilities. But when I call it paranormal, some readers think vampires, werewolves, or other creatures. I call it psychic suspense, but it's not like Medium where a mystery is solved because a character "sees" the future. My characters do more than that. One has pyrokinesis (setting fires), one gets storms of images that tear his brain apart, one has telekinesis (moving things), one can see ten seconds into the future…you get the idea. The easier part is the thriller or suspense tag, because either works.
By definition, paranormal means beyond normal, and that certainly describes my books, as well as my interests since I was a kid. I love ghost stories, unusual phenomena, unexplained mysteries. My favorite show was Unsolved Mysteries. I was never so much into creatures (Chupacabra romance, anyone?) but I ate up X-Files, Highlander, and Roswell (a not as well known but cult fave about three teens who are aliens).
My earlier books (written as Tina Wainscott) played with themes such as body switching, near death experiences, twin connections, cellular memory, and psychic connections. I love that it could be real. It's on the edge, accessible to all of us. Who hasn't had a whoo-whoo experience? A knowing? If you haven't, someone you know has, I'll bet. Just recently a man I met, upon hearing what I write about, recounted an out of body experience he'd had. I believe we all have the ability to expand past our five senses. What could be more fascinating, more mysterious, than the human brain? Our soul? We are amazing creatures. If we don't get in our own way, think of the things we can accomplish.
I often meet people who are amazed at the writer's mind. To be honest, so am I, and I've been doing it since I was a kid. That people, scenarios, worlds come out of that mysterious place in our brain (or is it our soul?), is like magic. Artists of all kinds do the same thing. We create so that we can share our magic with you. We honor you with our words, our pictures.
Uh…so what do I write? The one consistent tagline I have used for my series is that it's X-Files meets Lost. Government conspiracies, a group of outcasts who band together, and the hope of finding what you've always been looking for: acceptance. And something you might not have been looking for: love. That's what I write.
Paranormal, yes. My characters possess psychic abilities. But when I call it paranormal, some readers think vampires, werewolves, or other creatures. I call it psychic suspense, but it's not like Medium where a mystery is solved because a character "sees" the future. My characters do more than that. One has pyrokinesis (setting fires), one gets storms of images that tear his brain apart, one has telekinesis (moving things), one can see ten seconds into the future…you get the idea. The easier part is the thriller or suspense tag, because either works.
By definition, paranormal means beyond normal, and that certainly describes my books, as well as my interests since I was a kid. I love ghost stories, unusual phenomena, unexplained mysteries. My favorite show was Unsolved Mysteries. I was never so much into creatures (Chupacabra romance, anyone?) but I ate up X-Files, Highlander, and Roswell (a not as well known but cult fave about three teens who are aliens).
My earlier books (written as Tina Wainscott) played with themes such as body switching, near death experiences, twin connections, cellular memory, and psychic connections. I love that it could be real. It's on the edge, accessible to all of us. Who hasn't had a whoo-whoo experience? A knowing? If you haven't, someone you know has, I'll bet. Just recently a man I met, upon hearing what I write about, recounted an out of body experience he'd had. I believe we all have the ability to expand past our five senses. What could be more fascinating, more mysterious, than the human brain? Our soul? We are amazing creatures. If we don't get in our own way, think of the things we can accomplish.
I often meet people who are amazed at the writer's mind. To be honest, so am I, and I've been doing it since I was a kid. That people, scenarios, worlds come out of that mysterious place in our brain (or is it our soul?), is like magic. Artists of all kinds do the same thing. We create so that we can share our magic with you. We honor you with our words, our pictures.
Uh…so what do I write? The one consistent tagline I have used for my series is that it's X-Files meets Lost. Government conspiracies, a group of outcasts who band together, and the hope of finding what you've always been looking for: acceptance. And something you might not have been looking for: love. That's what I write.
November 15, 2010
A new review site, great addition to Goodreads
Goodreads is a great place to get both author and reader reviews. But how about a site that just lets you see what authors are reading and recommending? When you look at a book, you can also see what books are like it. You can check out what your favorite authors are reading and saying about the books they read. Check out www.peroozal.com. It's just getting started, so check back as it grows. Headed by a premier list of authors, I'm sure it will.
Cheers,
Jaime
Cheers,
Jaime
April 19, 2010
Getting ready for the Booklovers convention in OH!`
It's April 28th-May 2! I'd love to meet some of you there! The link is www.romantictimes.com in case you've never heard of it. It's wicked fun, lots of authors, a huge bookfair (Saturday, open to the public), giveaways, chocolate, masquerade balls and hot guys :)
Please come say hi! I'd also like to invite you to Kayla Perrin's and my Wild & Wacky Be a Diva Party on Friday 11:15-12:15. We give away boas and have the cover model pageant contestants in for some down and dirty questions!
As for me, I've got to come up with four costumes, pack promo stuff, figure out what I'm going to wear during the day, makeup...yeesh. But it's such fun playing dress up and seeing friends and fans.
Please come say hi! I'd also like to invite you to Kayla Perrin's and my Wild & Wacky Be a Diva Party on Friday 11:15-12:15. We give away boas and have the cover model pageant contestants in for some down and dirty questions!
As for me, I've got to come up with four costumes, pack promo stuff, figure out what I'm going to wear during the day, makeup...yeesh. But it's such fun playing dress up and seeing friends and fans.
