Renee Miller's Blog, page 25

Renee’s Life Update: Because You’re Dying to Know What I Do with My Time

Writing a book is a lonely endeavor, but publishing a book is…it’s different. It’s like diving into a crowd of ...
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Editing: My Personal Nightmare

For weeks I’ve been editing, or rather, rewriting, False Prophet. I want to be working on the half-dozen outlines or projects that need outlines, but instead I’m fixing the mess I made of this one. If I want to publish it after The Legend of Jackson Murphy, then I must polish it, right? This project has been a pain in my ass since I typed “THE END” on the rough draft. For months I tried to ignore it, because I knew the editing process would be horrific. The problem? This is the first novel that I worked on in pieces, by which I mean individual scenes or chapters written out of order. I usually begin at chapter one and move sequentially toward the end. Never do I flip back and forth and I NEVER write a scene out of sequence. I might make a couple of notes, but I don’t write the action until it takes place in the story.



Can I just say that anyone who does this all the time is either insane or brilliant? Not that there’s much difference between the two. I will NEVER do it again.



Why did I do it this time? Well, I was working on a couple of other things and False Prophet wasn’t an actual WIP for much of the time I was writing it. Problem was, it was outlined and now and then I’d dream a scene or one would pop in my head as I wrote something else, so I just wrote the damn scene, stuck it in the file and moved on until the next one bothered me enough to jot it down. When I finally sat down to write it, I had to insert said scenes into the narrative as I wrote. I’m not really sure what I was thinking when I did that.



Anyway, it’s made editing a nightmare. The entire manuscript pisses me off to be honest. Do you know, I’ve used the same damn name for the female protagonist in like three manuscripts? I took a mental holiday somewhere but didn’t get to enjoy it. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.



But then, every time I have to edit a rough draft, I’m beyond angry and irritable. At one point, I deemed In the Bones a giant cluster-fuck that would never see the light of day because I didn’t believe I could ever get the stink of awfulness off it. I was wrong, of course, as I am with every rough draft.



The bottom line is I’m not a fan of editing. I think the biggest reason I hate it is that I realize there is no natural ability in me to write smooth, fluid prose right out of the gate. Sure, it might not be in anyone, but that doesn’t make it okay in my mind. Sometimes I wonder if I was high while writing. I don’t recall getting high, but it’s the only way to explain some passages. I miss words, include incomplete sentences, thoughts, dialogue. Sometimes I even have characters that don’t belong. In False Prophet, there was a scene with a guy who just floated in for like three paragraphs, and floated back out, never to be seen again. WTF is that about? He’s not even in the outline! Where did he come from? I don’t even know. But he’s gone now. Infiltrating bastard.



Is there anyone out there that loves editing their rough drafts? Who are you and what kind of meds are you on? I’d like some please.



I guess I better get back at it. Tomorrow I’ll be stopping by Mallory Heart Reviews. Mallory has been kind enough to read and review In the Bones, so come with me to hear the verdict. On Saturday tag along with me for an interview at Andi’s Book Reviews, and on Sunday, see what a Crazed Mind thinks of In the Bones. Actually, it seems the appropriate place to visit. We can all go off our meds there. Good times.

On the (Virtual) Road

Over the next two weeks, I’ll be on the virtual road, as in
travelling the Blogosphere.  I want to
invite you all to the In the Bones
Virtual Book Tour, hosted by Reading Addiction Blog Tours. Until the end of March, I’ll be stopping by the blogs listed below, the hosts of which have
been kind enough to feature In the Bones. Tomorrow, I’m over at Reading Addiction BlogTours for a meet and greet, and you should all stop by the
lovely and talented Veronica Sicoe’s
blog as well, where she has allowed me to write a guest post. Yes, she’s a
daring sort of girl.





The rest of the week, come along and check out
reviews, interviews and more at the following blogs:





Monday, March 18 – Reading Addiction BlogTours and VeronicaSicoe.com




Wednesday, March 20 - The
Book Faery Reviews



Thursday, March 22 - Mallory
Heart Reviews



Friday, March 23 - Andi's Book Reviews



Saturday, March 24 - Crazed Mind



Sunday, March 25- Mythical Books



Monday, March 26- Gimme The Scoop Reviews



Tuesday, March 27- My Cozie Corner



Wednesday, March 28- Must Read Faster



Thursday, March 29- Bean Counting Mommy



Friday, March 30- Fictional
Reality



Saturday, March 31- RABT
Reviews





And stop by Goodreads to enter to win one of two copies of In the Bones.

I plan to hang around here on The Edge as well. Just let me
recover from March Break first. Then I will write something entertaining or
educational, or even both. Perhaps I’ll rant for you all. It’s been so long
since I’ve allowed a proper ranting, don’t you think?

Plotting Versus Pantsing: A Point to the Plotters

I kind of stand in the middle of the road when in the debate over plotting a
novel versus pantsing it. Sometimes I plot, sometimes I pants. Both have
resulted in some awesome novels. In the Bones, for example, I outlined.
Actually, I outlined far more than I usually do, creating character files,
secrets, and clues to where the bones are buried and how I’d slip these clues
into the story. I also plotted the tension. How does one do that? Well for me
it involves outlining what will happen in each chapter. Then I go through and
delete any scenes that contain nothing that moves the story forward. I did all
of that before sitting down to write, and didn’t look at a single file while
writing the rough draft. What’s the point of outlining if you never look at it
while writing? Well, when rewriting it helped me find problem areas and fix
them.



Anyway, I pantsed The Legend of Jackson Murphy, which I plan to release this
summer. The only plotting I did was determining who would die and when. That’s
it. Not how or why or anything like that. It turned out better than I imagined.
I never planned to publish Jack. It was just me having fun. But he’s definitely
a winner.



So, you ask, why give a point to plotting? Take a seat. Here, Clive’s
brought some cocktails. Comfy? Good. Let me explain.



Publishing In the Bones was a no-brainer. I knew it was good. I knew it had
readers out there waiting to enjoy Carroll’s wretchedness and Ryan’s good old
boy charm coupled with tension on every page. But I had to decide what to
publish next. Again, a no-brainer: The Legend of Jackson Murphy. Why? Beta
readers have been screaming for ages that I should publish Jack, because Jack
is a special kind of guy. If I didn’t publish him, there’d be a lynching.



So, as part of my marketing plan, I sat down to determine the sequence of
publication for my remaining manuscripts. I have two that are ready to publish
after a good edit, but the timing won’t be right for at least a year on these.
Maybe even two years. I had to scratch those off the list for now. That left me
with Ancient Blood, but I don’t have the sequel to this, which is going to be a
series, written yet. And (gasp!) where’s my outline? No worries, I know this
story inside and out. So possibly Ancient Blood next. But do I want to slip
into the paranormal just yet? Meh…not sure.



If I can get the second novel in the Ancient Blood series written (at least
the first draft) the first one could follow Jack. But then what?



False Prophet, I mumble. But False Prophet is so rough it gives me slivers
every time I read it. It’s like, a year off being done. But if I work really
hard, maybe in six months it’d be ready. Right? Right? Not likely.



How about Lucky? Sure, Lucky’s fantastic…and 20K words too short. Damn. I
could have that finished in draft form in a matter of weeks, but then there’s
the edits, beta reads, edits, more beta reads, more edits…sigh. Also, Lucky is
part of a series. Or at least a trilogy. So, I need to have those outlined
before I even think of publishing Lucky. Do you really need the outlines,
Renee, you ask. Yes, I do. Because I’ll freak out if I don’t have some idea of
where the series is going. That’s how I roll. So I’ve started outlining
Nefarious, the second in the series. Still, it won’t be ready for a while
because I have to outline at least one more book, or at the very least, have an
idea of what it’ll be about. I have no clue as of yet.



Renee, I said, you need to calm down and just work on all that shit you didn’t
finish way back when you had hours to spend writing. When was that, I asked
myself. Never mind, myself said. I imagined that time bit.



So I figured, I have tons of ideas for novels, surely I can write a new
backlog while I publish the current one. No outlines, but that’s not a big
deal. I pants shit all the time. I mean, come on. Everyone remembers their
ideas. No so. It’s just not so.



After trying to recall these brilliant ideas, I got really depressed,
thinking about all of these fantastic characters and plots I’d written down,
and then realizing I had nothing more than slips of paper containing a protagonist,
a villain or just a setting for some of the notes. Others were “this happens
and then this happens, because of some reason yet to be determined.” I suck at
note-making.



I despaired that I’d lose these ideas forever. One story, titled Manson (it’ll
change) lingered in the back of my brain, whispering that I should write it
soon. It was awesome too. It was a complex, twisted plot with juicy villains
and dark, mysterious heroes. It was paranormal too, with shapeshifters, fairies
and vampires, AND the Catholic Church. But that’s all I could remember and I
KNEW I’d written an outline for it, but do you think I could find it? Pfft. No.
Because I also suck at organization.



But then….THEN…I found this little flash drive in my bucket-o-crap that sits
on the table in my office/garage. The bucket is for crap I should throw out,
but never do. Thank God I also suck at housewifery. On the flash drive I found
not one, not three, not five, but EIGHT outlines. Eight!!!! Some of these
stories I completely forgot about. And in addition to these outlines, were a
handful of started manuscripts with various ideas jotted down.



“Oh. My. Fucking. Shit.” I said to no one in particular because it’s just me
who sits in my office/garage creating brilliance. As I read each outline, the
original inspiration for each flooded my head. I remembered everything. You can’t
even imagine how excited I am about this. I can’t believe I forgot the ideas,
but now they’re fresh and as I said to Carlos, it’s like I’m on fire and I can’t
decide which part of me to put out first. But I’m okay with having such a
problem. Better to have too many ideas than not enough, right?



The point goes to plotting because if I hadn’t paused to jot down outlines
for these ideas, however brief, I know I’d never have written a few of these
novels because although I had the vague ideas for these stories, the initial
inspiration was lost. And folks, when I write, I need that fire under my ass.



But let’s not forget the pantsing. It gets a half point because on this
flash drive I also found a few started novels. Ideas I couldn’t wait to begin
writing. I’ll continue pantsing those when I need to have some fun.



Anyone else found an unexpected Christmas hiding in some dusty corner?
Pantsers out there, how do you keep track of your ideas? I must know, because
my brain is full of holes. If I don’t make notes, the idea is lost.

 

In the Bones Launch and Some Other Stuff

On
Sunday, March 3, I’m hosting a small party on Facebook
to celebrate the launch of IN THE BONES, my first published novel. Putting “published”
in there sounds weird, but I can’t say it’s my first novel, because it isn’t.
My first novel is atrocious and hides in my computer, chained to the wall of a
deep, dark dungeon where all the bad stories go. The second novel, is coming
out after IN THE BONES, and it’s much better than the first. This one is
actually the seventh novel I’ve written. So, that’s why I say “first published.”
Not that the explanation is really needed I suppose. Okay, I’ll stop rambling.



I
hope you’ll all stop by and say hello. Everyone who at least says, “Hey, I’m
here.” is entered into a giveaway. Participating in the event gives you more
chances to win things like copies of IN THE BONES, Amazon gift cards (or
Chapters or Kobo cards for Canadian friends should they prefer these), and cool
jewellery I scavenged from various stores online.



Planning
this event was interesting. First, I estimated the book to be released sometime
in the second week of March. However, with the cover and editing finished
earlier than planned, I could move forward with formatting and such. Still, I
thought the wait for approval of the text, cover, etc. would take time. It didn’t.
So the book has actually been available for a week already and I bumped the
launch party up by two weeks.



Problem
is, some of my planned goodies aren’t here yet. Sigh. I’m a terrible planner. I
know that. Now you all do too. Let’s cross our fingers everything arrives in
time and I won’t have to replace these goodies with something else. Lesson learned. I will be more organized when I release The Legend of Jackson Murphy. Oh yes, he's coming to see you this summer.



Anyway,
you’re all invited and I hope you’ll bring along some friends that enjoy tales
of murder, corruption, and moose.



Not
sure? Here’s a little peek:



The figure in the blue shit-box rifled around the passenger seat.
Carroll shifted his feet. Mr. Cassidy should be eager to meet the elite of his
new town, not pissing around. Good thing he had Fred bring the computers back
yesterday. Carroll was almost blindsided by Melvin’s careful attention to
details that would make his life difficult. Not only did the bastard include a
list of his property but he also wrote out a list of files on the computer and
laptop that he didn’t know Melvin had. Carroll had informed residents more than
a year ago that Albertsville couldn’t get Internet, being too far out of the
way for such things. How did Melvin of all people figure out the lie?





Carroll found the evidence, though, and it hadn’t been in
any computer files. A plain white folder stuffed into the back of the
grandfather clock, which was not included on Melvin’s list of property. Fucking
Farley had bent the damn mechanism inside the clock while getting it out, but
Carroll didn’t stress over that. This kid wouldn’t guess the clock had worked
fine before Farley got his grubby hands on it. The files on the computer held nothing
of significance. It annoyed Carroll that he’d wasted his time going through
them.





The door opened and a tall, lanky figure emerged from the
car. Carroll’s chest tightened and he pressed his lips to stop the profanity
that leapt to the tip of his tongue. A ghost from his younger years stretched
and smiled at him. Hate curled up and made itself comfortable in Carroll’s
belly. Except for the tousled mane of sandy brown hair, Ryan Cassidy was the
spitting image of his father and grandfather. The same sparkle that Carroll so
hated in the elder Cassidys reflected in Ryan’s blue gaze, mocking him.





“Hello,” Ryan strode toward them.





His easy gait, so like Chad’s, sent Carroll’s stomach
churning. The only man he’d ever envied had been Ryan’s father. Everything came
to Chad naturally, everyone liked him, and he didn’t lift so much as a finger
for their approval. Carroll had to work his ass off to get even a fraction of
the respect they’d simply given to Chad. Christ, he never understood it. He had
money, looks, and a first rate education. What did Chad have? Nothing. That
damn shit-eating grin and those fucking eyes. He’d enjoyed every minute of Chad
Cassidy’s death.





Stay
tuned. Sometime over the next week or so, I’ll announce dates and locations for
the
blog tour. Yes, I’m doing one. (Eep!)

Zombie Fiction: WTF?

My name is Renee, and I’m addicted to The Walking Dead. I’m
not sure when it happened. I don’t usually like zombie fiction, and still haven’t
read a book about zombies, but somehow I find myself quite eager to watch this
show. So eager that when the show went on whatever the fuck that break in the
middle of the season was, I almost cried about it.



I used to ask people how they could read zombie fiction. I
didn’t understand the appeal. I mean, they’re zombies. How interesting could
that be? They don’t think or anything. Plus, they’re slow as shit, which makes
them easy to kill. As my addiction flourished (I suspect it has a lot to do
with Daryl),
 I realized why people like zombie
fiction. Actually, there are a few reasons. Yes, more than just one.



The first:  Apocalypse—duh!



Judging by the number of “crazy” websites out there, full of
lunatics predicting the apocalypse, I’d say humanity is pretty obsessed with
just how and when this world will end. If you think about all the damn
bio-terrorism shit out there, zombies don’t seem so far-fetched. To be honest,
of all the ways the world could end, a zombie apocalypse probably has the
highest survival rate. Just saying. Sun crashing into the earth = barbecued
everything. Zombie plague = Bubba, get yer bow, we’re goin huntin. We enjoy
stories about zombies because we’re subconsciously preparing for the battle we’ve
been told is going to come at some point. The enemy you know is easier to beat
than the one that you’re all “What the fuck is happening here? Jim! What is
wrong with you? Jim, why are you---ah, my brain! Maaaaaaa” So, we read about
them to make a plan. I think this is smart.



The murderer inside
all of us



Who has never wanted to drive a machete through another
human’s head? Come on, are you saying it’s just me? Even if you’re going to
deny your homicidal rage, the idea that zombie stories depict being able to
shoot another person, or lop off his head, when just an hour before you were
bandaging that dog bite on his arm, and be applauded for it is well…cool.



Escapism



If not for the decaying body and brain eating, being a
zombie would be the ultimate escape. You don’t have to worry about morality,
laws, or even showering. You’re just existing. Zombie fiction represents the
ultimate in escapism. Plus, don’t you wonder how the bastards just keep going
and going unless you literally obliterate their brain? Fascinating.



Fear: It turns our
crank



Face it, we kind of like being scared. And what’s scarier
than being eaten alive by Grandma? Nothing. That’s what.



They’re kind of cool.



They’re human, but not quite. Almost alive, but mostly dead.
You can rip their torso in half, and zombies keep going. That’s kind of awesome.
We don’t know if they can think or feel. They look like they can’t, but who
really knows? They can’t communicate much more than, “Your brain is tasty” so
we can’t know unless we trap a real zombie and study him. And wouldn’t it be
cool to trap a zombie? Of course, you’d have to cut off his arms, yank his
teeth, remove his jaw and chain him up, but after that, he’d be the coolest pet
ever.



True monsters



This is the main reason I think many horror fans like
zombies. They’re true monsters. They don’t fall in love with their victims.
They don’t experience remorse or regret (as far as we know). They reproduce
like rabbits. One little nibble and you’re zombified. They don’t have a special
monster code, and they don’t try to deny what they are. Zombies have a single
purpose and a single goal. They want to eat you. That’s it. And they’ll shuffle
along forever if that’s how long it takes to get you to sit down to dinner.

Self-Publishing: What I’ve Learned So Far

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I decided to publish my first novel myself. I have several reasons for doing this, and not a single one is related to actually earning money. While that would be nice, I suspect I’ll break even if I’m lucky. That’s okay. This adventure was concocted with other goals in mind.



“IN THE BONES” is available at Smashwords, and it’s almost ready for release on Amazon, although the official launch date won’t be until mid-March. If you’re curious about that, I’ll be having a virtual launch party on my Facebook page and giving away a few goodies to some lucky guests.



The process of publishing my first novel myself, which includes editing (of course), cover design, marketing, nail-biting, and much more profanity than usual, has taught me a few things I didn’t know (or didn’t want to admit I knew) about myself and people in general.



I am a control freak.

I knew that I kind of liked being in control. I mean, who doesn’t like all the power? But I didn’t realize how much I liked it. It’s becoming addictive. If I ever have any real power…watch out.



I worry about stupid things.

I found myself awake several times in the wee hours of the morning over the past few months, because I dreamt about something really stupid and then couldn’t stop thinking about it. The weird part? Half the time, the worrying was not related to the book at all, but it always came around to it by the time I was done. I worried for a few nights over the acknowledgements page of the book. Stupid really, but it bothered me that I had so many people who helped me get to this point, and yet, I couldn’t possibly name them all. I’d need an acknowledgements chapter. So then I thought, well I’ll just name a couple. But then, that makes it look like I feel they’re more important. So I should at least name the Goodreads gang, but then the list was like a page long and I was all, “That is too long, friend.” In the end, I didn’t include an acknowledgements page. Yes, I still think about it at night.



I don’t like attention.

Sometimes…okay, all the time….I think I’d like to be famous. It’d be cool if people were all, “That’s Renee. She’s famous.” But then I started working on this book and I looked into the whole marketing and self-promotion thing. Then I realized just how much you have to put yourself out there. But that’s not what I don’t like. As I mucked about trying to put together a decent plan of attack, I realized just how many people might be watching me either fail or succeed. I hit the bottle after that. Too much pressure. No fame for me, thanks. Is it possible to just have the cash?



I suffer from selective blindness.

Apparently, I can read the same text a bazillion times and miss the same fucking typo/grammar/spelling mistake every single time. Editors are priceless. Remember that.



I’m terrible at time management.

Not just terrible. Like beyond terrible. I suck. Time is not my friend. Time is this thing that my brain seems to think will just magically expand for me so that I can get all I need done accomplished before the deadline set. Sadly, this is not what happens. What happens is I end up staying awake until the wee hours to get it done, or I don’t clean. Yes, the housework is the first thing to suffer when I’ve got too much shit to do. At least I can prioritize, right?



I have fantastic friends.

The support and encouragement I’ve received since I announced my decision to step off the traditional path for a while actually amazed me. I have the best friends, virtual and “in real life.” You guys deserve a medal or something shiny that says “I’m awesome.”



And I have asshole friends.

Sadly, I also have people in my life who are assholes. I’m not naming names, because that gets me into trouble and my mom hates it when I do that. Let’s just say that I’ve found that there are folks that are all “we’re so happy for you” and shit, but only if they benefit somehow. The problem is that there are some folks out there who believe that I should be honored to give them for free what I worked a couple of years to create. That’s not how it works. Piss off. While I love giving away books, and I will definitely give away free copies of my books, these folks won’t get freebies on principle. I suppose I also learned that I can be spiteful…okay, so we knew that one already.



I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

As stressful as this has been, I have loved every single step. I think I have more pride in the final result than I would have if a traditional publisher took “In the Bones” on, because I played a role in every step of the process. Whether everyone loves the book, or everyone hates it, I’d do it again without hesitation. And I’m going to. Jack’s bugging to go next. But…



I’d rather have a publisher.

Yes. Even with the fun and torture I’ve experienced on my first foray into publishing myself, and despite loving every step of the process, I’d much rather have a traditional contract where I don’t have to worry about every single detail. I guess that means I’m basically lazy. I’m okay with that.

And PS: I am going to do a blog tour. I said I wasn’t in a previous post, but after doing a little more research, I’ve found that they can be a ton of fun, and they introduce me to a lot of really cool folks. Once I’ve got my shit together, I’ll get that arranged.



Before I go, I want to let you all in on a special birthday event I’m doing. Tomorrow is my birthday, and to chase away the saddies (I’m really missing my dad this week) I’ve decided to give presents to other people. As I said, I love giving stuff away. So if you go on over to my Facebook page, you can find out how to receive an advance paperback copy of IN THE BONES.

Can Readers Trust Book Reviews?

As I prepare to publish my first novel (myself), I’m looking
at sending ARCs out for review purposes. The more I think about this, the less
I want to do it. Why? It feels wrong to ask for reviews. I know we need them,
particularly if one is self-publishing as I am, but I wonder how reliable these
reviews would be when I am asking for them.



I receive ARCs from some small publishers, and I am honest
in my reviews, but only to a point. I don’t review books that I absolutely
hate. If I don’t have anything nice to say at all, I simply say nothing. Mind
you, I rarely rave over a book either. In this business, there is no such thing
as perfection, and I know readers would look at such a review skeptically.



I looked into booking a blog tour that included book
reviews, but it all felt dishonest. I know the reviewers are not going to be
all hearts and butterflies if a book sucks, but because they’re hosting the
blog, giving away the book, and promoting the author, there will be some
over-positivity involved, would there not? And many of the blogs are author
blogs, so will readers actually see these reviews? If they do, will they trust
them?



So, with all this in mind, I’ve been wondering how a reader determines
which are the bullshit reviews and which are the genuine reviews. I don’t know,
but there are a few things I look for when I’m on Amazon or Goodreads that have
never failed me when choosing a new book to read.



Look for the good,
the bad and the really bad.



Real reviews are usually a mix of thoughts and opinions.
They rarely focus only on the positive or only on the negative. If you see a
review that rips the author a new one, and has nothing positive to offer, then
it’s not trustworthy. On the other hand, a review that shits sunshine and
unicorns is probably insincere as well.



Writing quality
matters.



When I read a review that is full of typos and bad grammar,
I trash it. It’s not worth reading because if the reviewer isn’t articulate enough
to compose a decently written review, then I know I can’t trust their opinion
of another person’s writing. On the other hand, if it sounds like an infomercial,
I’m skeptical as well. Smooth, salesy-type reviews are almost always positive
and paid for.



Whodunit?



If the reviewer doesn’t identify himself, he’s full of shit.
Most likely an anonymous review is from the author himself, or a hater that
hasn’t read the book. Either way, it’s not going to be genuine. Don’t waste
your time reading it.



Screen names



Some fake reviews are posted under fake identities, but they
appear legit. How do you tell which is which? Well, on Goodreads and Amazon,
the name will track back to a real person. Their profile will show real links
to blogs, other reviews, and personal information that will give you a heads up
when something’s hinky. Not always, but most times. If someone is reviewing as
SoftKitty789, and has very limited personal info, such as location, favorite
books, real name, gender, age, etc. then I’d ignore that reviewer’s opinion.



Perfect Reviews



When you come across a book that has only five star reviews,
you must stop and wonder at how this is possible. First, it’s human nature for
assholes to vote down a book that’s doing well, even if it’s a fantastic read.
So if you don’t see any conflicting reviews, or at least a couple of three star
entries, you have to question what five stars even means for that particular
book. I’ll tell you. It usually means that those reviews are either written by
family and friends of the author, or they’re paid for. The reviewers might mean
every gushy word they say, but none of it is objective, so it’s useless to the
consumer. On the other hand, a book that gets only one star across the board is
worth picking up. Why? It’s obvious someone’s got a hate on for the author, and
that person isn’t reviewing the actual writing.



In this wonderful age of online media and marketing, we’re
looking at huge advantages, but also huge disadvantages when we’re comparing
books. I used to rely on magazine and newspaper critics for honest reviews, and
I still do for the most part, but I’ve noticed that even some of these are
getting trapped in the “Be nice no matter what” mentality that permeates this
industry. Listen, we don’t have to be liked all the time. If you’re giving a
review, be honest. Authors don’t want to burn bridges, and I get that, but it’s
better to post nothing than to be dishonest.



I don’t usually write reviews on my blog. I do write reviews
or what we call “Spotlight” articles at On Fiction Writing. Fifty Shades of
Insanity as an exception here on my blog because I spent so much time discussing
it, that I felt I should read it and I promised to give my opinion. Also, it
was a great opportunity for humor. I never pass up the opportunity for funny.



When I review for OFW’s Spotlight, I want to offer a review
that’s honest and valuable to the reader. I try to be positive, while including
the elements that didn’t work for me, or that I think might be a problem for
others. A balanced and honest review. We don’t use a rating system at OFW
because we feel that doesn’t offer anything. The value to a review is in the
review itself.



If you can’t decide which reviews are real and which are
fake, then here’s a simple solution: Amazon lets you read sample pages of a
book. The first five pages really do say a lot about a story and its author.
Use them.



As readers, do you trust reviews on Amazon, Goodreads, or
anywhere else online? As writers, do you feel dishonest arranging or asking for
reviews?

Your Resume: The Perfect Background for Fiction

I’ve worked a lot of jobs. 
Some of them were okay, others sucked ass. But they’ve all helped my
writing. Each one of these jobs has inspired characters, situations, and in one
case, an entire plot. I thought it might be fun to go through my resume and detail
just what sort of inspiration each job provided. Now, I didn’t include every
job, because even I have some pride. I’d rather a couple of them just fall into
oblivion where I can forget about them. Also, it’d be a really long post. So
here are the main jobs that left me something useful. You might be inspired to
go pick up a shitty job for your next book. Or not.




Probably not.




Waitress




Anyway, the first “real” job I ever had was waitressing. I
worked in this tiny little restaurant that was open 24 hours. Oh how I miss
scraping chicken wings and poutine from the ceiling. Those drunk assholes were
so much fun. We had one guy who asked for a muff burger every day. Every. Day.
No, he didn’t get the memo on the expiration date on such humor.




Waitressing is a well of inspiration for dialogue. The
dining room in this restaurant had about 15 tables at the most, with only
enough room for the waitress to walk through between each, so I heard
everything that was said in there. EVERYTHING. 
Man, there are things you just can’t unhear.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but the
process of figuring out which customer was talking based on dialect, accent and
tone was extremely useful in writing so that the reader could do the same.
Also, should any of my characters have to clean dried food from a ceiling, or unclog
a toilet backed up by a bag of pot, a tampon, underwear, or worse, I can write
the shit out of those situations. For the record, I worked in a few tiny
restaurants. None were as colorful as Victoria Place, though. (Yes, I can
totally name names. It’s now a Chinese restaurant.)




Cheese Factory:
Production




Possibly one of the worst jobs I’ve ever worked was the
cheese factory. Snotty floors, freezing rooms where we tried to figure out how
to apply labels with gloves on, and the dynamics of a very weird hierarchy of
authority, inspired a few characters and taught me how to create tension via
relationships. In between the bagging and sealing of cheese products, I absorbed
the tension in that hotbed of gossip and back-biting. I also honed my sense of
humor. You can only stand at a machine doing a single motion for so many hours
before your brain checks out and insanity checks in. I go to that place when I
need funny.

Convenience Store:
Cashier




I used my years wasted checking items in a shit hole
convenience store in a couple of stories, mainly “Dirty Truths.” It was mostly
an atmospheric thing, but I also derived a few characters from my customer
base. You can find brilliant “extras” at such jobs. While I wasn’t doing any
writing at the time, I used to observe the customers and make up stories for
each to pass the time. If any of you out there recall me checking your shit at
said store, don’t ask what I made up for you. It’s better left a mystery.

Gas Station Attendant




This job was awful. First it was stinky. Second, I didn’t
know a dipstick from my own ass. Checking someone’s oil? Cleaning a windshield?
Topping up antifreeze and transmission fluid? Pfft. What a joke. While I
eventually learned how to do all that was required of a gas station attendant,
I first learned the art of bullshitting. Invaluable to a writer.

 

Bar: Server/Bartender




I miss bartending. Seriously. It was a really fun job. Sure,
drunks are assholes and your feet are beyond aching by the end of the night,
but I had a blast. Mostly. You see, when I worked at the bar, I was a single
mom, recently separated from my husband of only one year. The people I worked
with were awesome people, but the folks around town—not so much. A situation
like that screams for gossip. And gossip they did. Let’s see, the first rumor was
that my ex beat me within an inch of my life and that’s why I left him. Not
true. He was just an idiot and we should never have gotten married. The second
rumor was that the “boss” was messing around on his wife—with me. And he was a
badass hit man running drugs, liquor and weapons for bikers, and his wife was a
horrible bitch who only stayed married to him because she hated him and wanted
to make his life miserable. Not true. First, the wife is a beautiful person
inside and out, and a friend you want in your corner no matter what. Second, I
wish my life at the time had been half that interesting. And last, as far as I
know, there was no hitting of men or running of anything by anyone, for anyone.
But wouldn’t the lies make a fantastic book?




I ended up quitting this job because of the gossip. Hey, I
had a daughter and I was on my own. I also had my poor parents to think about (My
dad was one rumor away from homicide) and I wasn’t the same badass you see before
you today. I was a kinder, gentler soul back then. I couldn’t handle people
thinking things like that about me.

What I didn’t know (but learned real fast) was that when one
lives in a small town, the more you deny something, the more true people think
it is. It doesn’t matter if you can prove otherwise, your repeated denial makes
their gossip VALID. And it’s worse if elements of the rumors have some truth to
them, because it gives the gossip the flavor of authenticity, which is all a
small mind needs to keep going. There was a single grain of truth in that
entire web of lies: I left my husband. That was enough.




What did this do for my writing? Two words: Dirty Truths.
You’ll see.

Lumber Yard: Jill of
all trades.




I began working in a lumber yard as a cashier. Well, it was
a home improvement store/lumber yard/storage facility. I worked my way from the
cash to inventory. Then I went “upstairs” where I worked in an administrative
position. By the time I left there (an interesting story for later) I did all
of those jobs. I liked this place, mostly. What did it do for my writing? It
made me realize that every relationship is more complicated than it seems and
motivation is rarely a single, clear element. It also gave me awesome
characters. “In the Bones” has several characters inspired by my time at the
lumber yard and a few scenes in it (Audrey owns a Home Hardware and Ryan fixes up
an old farmhouse.) are plucked from my own experience.

Drive-Thru Diva




Oh. My. God. That’s all. No seriously…okay fine. I worked a
couple of years at the local Tim Horton’s. It’s a great bunch of people over
all, and I do miss the energy of the place sometimes, not to mention the fresh
from the oven sour cream glazed donuts…drool. However, you don’t know shit and
abuse until you’ve worked a drive-thru window. You have no concept of the
assholery out there until you’ve served coffee to Mr. Fucktard at 6 am. This is
where I pull many of my jackass characters from.

Daycare




Kids are an endless source of humor and patience. With
writing, you need both. It is during this time that I dove into writing “seriously”
and realized I could possibly do this shit. If not for the daycare, I don’t
know that I’d have worked up the guts to try my hand at “real” writing. Kids are
very inspirational, when they’re not wiping shit and boogers on the wall or
ripping your house apart. Also, some of my dialogue was stolen (verbatim) from
these kids. Brilliant, I tell you.

Freelancing




For a short time I freelanced for a local paper. Now I write
entirely for online clients, but the time with the paper taught me things I
didn’t know about small town dynamics and politics. I used all of that experience
when writing “In the Bones” and some of it in “The Legend of Jackson Murphy.”
It was through this job that I learned what made good atmosphere, conflict and
tension. It also cemented my long-time belief that I should never get involved
in politics. There would be bodies. Many bodies.

In addition to the creative stuff, freelancing honed my
basic writing skills as well. Copy editors have no qualms about ripping you a
new one. It still happens and I’ve been doing this for almost four years. You
can never edit something too many times.




So, there you go. There’s a bit of every job or it’s “people”
flavoring everything I write. In a way, my resume and this town play a huge
part in the voice behind my novels. I wouldn’t be who I am without these
experiences and these people, right? Hey, Tweed, you done good…I think.

What about you guys? Which jobs served you well in your writing? Were any a complete waste of time? And for my amusement, what's the worst job you've ever done?

Creating Character: Love Interests

And we're at the end of my little character series. Today we examine the love interest and how it can be used to create conflict. Love
interests have a huge potential for creating tension and conflict, or vomit.
This is why I’ve given them their own little article in this series. Love is a
powerful force, and it’s a curious one. It makes one person miserable, another
gloriously happy. It can change a baddie into a pseudo-goodie, and it can
sometimes save a life. Love is a wonderful tool in fiction, but when creating a
love interest, too many of us get it wrong by dragging the pendulum a little too far one way or the other.



Love interests are a
special kind of character that I think should be in every book, even if it’s
not a romance. They don’t have to play a huge role, and they don’t have to be a
main character. They serve to add drama, interest, and can sometimes be very
useful in resolving conflict. But how do we use them to improve the story? That's easy. Just be realistic.

 

I'll explain.



Chemistry has long
been considered the driving force behind love. We search for that other half of
our soul and many writers mistakenly believe that means the person we’re meant
to love and be with forever. No. Soul mate is something totally different. Your
soul mate might be your best friend, a family member or even your dog. Soul
mates are those souls that seem to be the perfect match to ours. Love and sex
may not be part of it.



When you’re creating a
love interest, you're not looking for a soul mate for your character. You're trying to find someone that makes sense to them romantically. You have to create a character that would be
appealing to your protagonist or antagonist (could be that both need a little
love) and their attractiveness must have a reason. The potential love
interest’s traits and behavior must resonate with your character because they
somehow make him or her more human…or maybe they just float their boat sexually
and the love is a superficial thing. That’s okay too.



Many writers create
love interests that reflect their own ideas of the “perfect” man or woman (including me, I'm not proud of it, but I do tend to let my fantasies take control now and then), and
this is really annoying. What that writer is doing is creating a love interest
for herself instead of her character, and this can make the story fall flat.
You don’t want that.



Consider something, if
you will, about these universally appealing love interests. If he or she is so
damn attractive, smart, rich, and such, why hasn’t he or she been snatched by
someone equally fantastic? Why is your character so special that this perfect
love is only interested in her? Yeah, seems a bit farfetched when you think
about it, doesn’t it?



Stories with characters
that fall in love with a fantasy are doomed to fail, just as they would in the
real world, and your reader knows this. Creating a “perfect” love interest is a
sure way to turn the reader off simply because it’s not plausible. There is no
such thing as perfection, and we rarely choose the people we love based on
appearance, social status and their goodness or badness alone.



Did you know that love
at first sight (whether you believe in it or not, and I don’t) is not even based
on beauty or any of that superficial crap? It’s based on the idea that when
seeing a certain image of ourselves (or the self we hope to be), without
consciously knowing we maintain such an image deep inside, we’re enthralled by
it. We connect with it immediately, and we are drawn toward it. Shit might not
pan out, but that initial meeting, that first look, is like a punch in the
nuts…but in a good way.



Most of the time such
gut reactions turn out to be huge mistakes. Love at first sight is rarely love
that endures. In reality we find getting along with those we love is hard. We
misunderstand, insult and hurt each other. Not on purpose, but we do. It’s what
makes us human.



So creating a love
interest who your character falls for instantly because he is perfect and
forgiving and all things wonderful and butterfly-shitting, is bad. Don’t do it.
Your characters will not live happily ever after with none of the conflict that
filled every page before “the end.” It doesn’t work that way in real life, so
don’t do it in fiction.


Conflict is the engine
that keeps the story going, and the love interests should be a vital part of
that engine. The gas, if you will.






So, whether your love
interest is Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now, make sure he’s real and he makes sense
in terms of being with your protagonist or antagonist. Make sure he’s flawed,
but not too flawed. Make sure his interest in your character, and your
character’s interest in him, makes sense. I know, it's just do damn easy. (that would be sarcasm)



What are some
fictional pairings that left you scratching your head? How do you go about
creating a love interest?