Michelle Scott's Blog, page 18

My Novel’s Timeline – in Full Color!

There was a day when I thought writing a novel would be easy.  Ha!  Once I actually started writing one, I realized how complicated it is.  Plots entangle with subplots that entangle with characters and settings and…  You get the picture.

Many of my writing friends have recommended Scrivener as tool for organizing a novel.  I gave it a try, and while I liked it, I had a very hard time comprehending the full picture of my novel’s plot.

I’m very much a ‘draw me a picture’ kind of person.  Those random Ikea instructions actually make sense to me!  (Well, maybe not the one in the picture below…)

Do not try this at home.

Anyway, I’ve been looking for a way to organize my plot(s) for quite some time.  I’ve tried note cards and colored pens and a white board, but none of that quite worked for me.

My novel in living color!

Enter my writer friend, W. G. Garvey (author of the military thriller, The Chain Locker.)  When we were having coffee one morning, he showed me the spreadsheet he used to chart out his current work in progress.  Using an Excel spreadsheet and plenty of flow chart images, he created a wonderful outline of his book.  Brilliant!

So now, I’m doing the same thing, and it has helped me 110%.  (Thanks, Bill…)  I can see the entire novel at a glance which lets me understand how the threads work together.  I have my own system for colors and box shapes and such, but it is so much easier than using note cards.  Or even my ginormous white board (which got me many funny looks in Starbucks.)

Knit a Penguin Pullover

This is no joke – the Penguin Foundation is asking for volunteers to knit miniature pullovers for penguins who are victims of oil spills.  Apparently, the little sweaters keep them warm and help prevent them from trying to clean off the toxic oil with their beaks.

Anyone is eligible to knit the pullovers.  In fact, the pattern and the instructions for sending the sweaters is right on the Foundation’s website.

Tatting 101

Being housebound in the wintertime is no fun!  To keep my mind off of the weather, I decided to try my hand at a new skill: tatting.

Tatting is the art of lace making.  It can be done with a needle or, as I did, with a shuttle.  My grandmother used to tat as did my husband’s grandmother, and both tried (unsuccessfully) to teach me.

This time, however, I was determined not to give up.  Thanks to a Kindle book and numerous YouTube videos, I was able to (finally) make a teeny-tiny flower.  I used up nearly half a ball of thread making this one, little project, but I was able to complete it.

What makes tattting so hard is that once you make a mistake, it is nearly impossible to fix it.  And since I make a lot of mistakes, I ended up starting the project over and over again.

I’m not sure what else I’ll make.  Doilies and handkerchiefs are not really my thing.  But it has been fun to learn and has made winter a little more bearable.

Downside Ghosts – My Latest Obsession

(Note: I’ve been trying to post this all day and have no idea why it wouldn’t show up…Hope that third time’s the charm.)

 

I’ve fallen in love with someone terrible.  Erm…Terrible.

It’s hard to believe that I would ever have a book boyfriend who has bushy sideburns, wears bowling shirts with skulls on them, and beats up people for a living, but it happened.

My first foray into Stacia Kane’s world of Downside wasn’t pleasurable.  Chess, the main character was much too self-destructive for my taste.  Her drug usage bothered me tremendously.  The world was gritty, nasty, and just plain awful.  I swore I wouldn’t read another one.

Yet here I am, three books into the series and already craving the fourth.  What happened?

I think that somehow, the strange romance between Chess and the aforementioned Terrible grabbed my heartstrings.  Also, Chess’s self-destructive habits started to make sense – her entire life had been one of abandonment and neglect.  And I began to really envision the strange, post-apocalyptic world of Downside.

Kane is a fantastic writer, and I’ve been taking mental notes on her style.  Her pacing is perfect.  She knows when to linger on a scene and when to jump ahead.  I need lessons in that!  She also has the ability to get inside Chess’s head and make her sympathetic instead of pathetic.  I’ve been writing for a long time, yet I still keep working on my technique.  Kane is the tutor I needed to help me sharpen my own skills.

Plus, as I said, I’m in love with Terrible.

My New Book Boyfriend

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I’ve fallen in love with someone terrible.  Erm…Terrible.

It’s hard to believe that I would ever have a book boyfriend who has bushy sideburns, wears bowling shirts with skulls on them, and beats up people for a living, but it happened.

My first foray into Stacia Kane’s world of Downside wasn’t pleasurable.  Chess, the main character was much too self-destructive for my taste.  Her drug usage bothered me tremendously.  The world was gritty, nasty, and just plain awful.  I swore I wouldn’t read another one.

Yet here I am, three books into the series and already craving the fourth.  What happened?

I think that somehow, the strange romance between Chess and the aforementioned Terrible grabbed my heartstrings.  Also, Chess’s self-destructive habits started to make sense – her entire life had been one of abandonment and neglect.  And I began to really envision the strange, post-apocalyptic world of Downside.

Kane is a fantastic writer, and I’ve been taking mental notes on her style.  Her pacing is perfect.  She knows when to linger on a scene and when to jump ahead.  I need lessons in that!  She also has the ability to get inside Chess’s head and make her sympathetic instead of pathetic.  I’ve been writing for a long time, yet I still keep working on my technique.  Kane is the tutor I needed to help me sharpen my own skills.

Plus, as I said, I’m in love with Terrible.

What about you?  Who’s your current book boyfriend?

Welcome A.L. Michael

Today, I have another wonderful Carina U.K. author visiting.  This time, it’s A.L. Michael, whose giving us a sneak peek at her upcoming work,  The Last Word, a fun, snarky chick-lit novel.

So boring. So very, very boring. Tabby tapped the side of her vodka tonic with her nail and wondered why she’d even come out. Sure, when Chandra got chatted up, it was usually fun, something to joke about. But Tabby found a strange lump in her throat, and she didn’t know if it was loneliness or jealousy, or just how maidenly she felt sitting on a stool, swinging her legs back and forth. This was not her place.
‘What do you think I do?’ Chandra asked. This was always the kicker, and Tabby found herself focusing on The Suit, more out of habit than anything else.
‘I…are you a model? Or a dancer? You’re beautiful.’
Chandra turned back to Tabby and rolled her eyes. ‘Original’ she mouthed.
It took a few minutes more for The Suit to realise he wasn’t going to get anywhere, suddenly confused as to why the pretty girl who’d let him do his spiel wasn’t really interested.
‘You know, if a guy once guessed what I do for a living correctly, I might have to marry him.’ Chandra grinned.
‘And what do you do?’ A very familiar voice asked from behind them.
Tabby screwed up her eyes and didn’t turn around. ‘Hi Harry.’
When she did turn around, of course, she wasn’t lucky enough to be hallucinating, he was actually there. His white shirt glowing in the bar lighting, a little bit more stubble than during the week, there was no doubt he was painfully good-looking. Even Chandra looked a little shocked.
‘Of course, this is your scene.’ Tabby sighed, looking down. She noticed his expensive-shirt-and-jeans ensemble had changed slightly, the addition of what looked like pink Converse. For some reason, she felt a sudden rush of affection towards those trainers.
‘So…?’ Harry raised an eyebrow.
‘She’s an actuary,’ Tabby replied, unsure if that was where he was going. Harry surveyed Chandra for a moment before nodding.
‘I can see why no-one’s guessed correctly.’
He said it in such an easy, straightforward manner that it didn’t appear inappropriate. Chandra surveyed him, settling on a response that was half-hatred, half-approval. Please don’t  flirt, please don’t flirt.
‘And you are?’ Chandra asked, though she knew perfectly well.
‘Harry Shulman, Tabby’s editor.’ He put an arm around Tabby and squeezed briefly. The natural ‘old maid’ feeling that came from sitting on a minimalist perspex bar stool in a hip bar was not improved by this contact. Tabby held back a glare.
‘Oh, you mean the editor who’s been making Tabby’s life a misery and has managed to convince her she’s a talentless airhead who should stick to beauty columns and pointless rants, you mean?’ Chandra asked innocently, sipping her drink.
Harry’s eyes widened and he ran a hand through his hair in what looked like embarrassment.
‘I suppose you calculated the risk of a comment like that.’
‘What do you think?’ She arched an eyebrow.
Harry gave Tabby an exasperated look, as if to ask, ‘Is your friend for real?’, to which Tabby only replied with a raised eyebrow of her own. Harry huffed, and grabbed the edge of her seat to spin her around so she was facing him. He had that determined look. Whilst only really having four face-to-face experiences with Harry, she felt that she could suddenly categorise at least ten different looks. And any one of them could be deadly when focused directly on you. Harry’s attention was a spotlight, and whilst most people seemed to bloom and come alive under his gaze, all Tabby seemed able to do was freeze like a rabbit in headlights.
‘You didn’t reply to my email.’ He said simply.
‘I haven’t checked my computer since-’
‘Since you sent me that article at stupid o’clock on Friday?’ His mouth twitched. ‘You know it was brilliant, that’s why you’re putting me through this. You knew I’d love it, and so you’re getting back at me for criticising you. But you took exactly what I said! I knew we’d be an excellent team!’
Enthusiasm seemed to shine from him, and he suddenly looked so boyish and excited that Tabby wanted to hug him.
‘David loved it, the whole department loved it. It was being forwarded throughout the office! I’m so glad you listened to what I was saying. I know I was hard on you-’
Here Chandra snorted, and Tabby widened her eyes at her.
‘-but really, it was because I knew what you were capable of.’ Harry smiled, suddenly so affectionate that Tabby really couldn’t bear it. She also couldn’t bear to tell him she was terrible at taking criticism and her only creative motivation was pissing him off.
‘So I’m not fired then?’
‘Fired? Fired!’ He settled into a gentle grin and leaned in, ‘You are far too excellent to be fired. Plus, we have a twelve-week contract. I can’t fire you. Whether you write shit or gold, you’re here. With me.’
Tabby sat for a moment, considering Harry, his wide grin, his eagerness. He’d said she was excellent. She sat up a little straighter in her chair and tried not to smile like an idiot.
‘So, no problem with the ‘praise’ part of the job then, just the criticism.’ Of course, he noticed her slightest movements, the twitch of her lips as she considered that, yes, maybe she was a bit excellent. Just a bit. And he liked it, really liked it. And when she stopped thinking about these things and focused on just how close Harry was, invading her personal space once again, his hands resting either side of her, she realised she needed to be at her wittiest. But nothing happened.
‘Okay, so I’m not so great at the criticism. But it’s not like you stuck to being constructive, is it? Some of it was pretty mean!’
‘Oh shut up, you love it,’ Harry said, back to his jokey, cocky self, but he at least let go of her barstool, so she felt a little more in control. Tabby just folded her arms and tipped her head to the side, questioning him.
‘I thought that’s what we were doing, the whole banter-insulting thing?’ He said, slightly unsure, ‘I thought that’s what you got off on.’
‘Excuse me?’
He smirked briefly, ‘Work-wise, mind-in-the-gutter. I thought you needed someone to argue with to get your best work. You’ve been writing great articles so far, but no-one’s pushed you to be better. That’s my job.’
Tabby considered this, and of course, he had his bloody earnest look on again, so if she cut him down he’d look like a beaten puppy. Bastard.
‘Well, I do like arguing with you.’ She conceded.
‘I like arguing with you too,’ he said, ‘I am honestly sorry if I upset you. But I’m probably going to do it a few more times.’
‘Oh, I have no doubt.’
‘And you’re probably going to call me a stuck-up prick or a self-invested arsehole, or whatever it was that you called your editor in that article.’
Tabby smiled innocently, ‘I have no idea what you mean, Harry. I’m a professional. It was just an article.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ He rolled his eyes, and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. Her chest tightened briefly, and then he was back in his space, far away from her, ‘Speaking of people who want to argue, I seem to have angered another violent woman.’
‘Your calling in life, it seems.’ Chandra smirked as Harry shrugged.
‘Wish me luck,’ he said, before walking over to a delicate doll of a girl- tall, thin, with long blond hair pulled messily into a plait. She was wearing a strapless silver bodycon dress that clung to her non-existent curves, and just looking at her skyscraper heels made Tabby feel dizzy. She looked down at her own shoes, purple felt, stack heels, with bunny rabbit buttons. Okay, well she wasn’t his type, clearly. Like that mattered anyway, she wasn’t going to do anything. Just because someone gives you a much deserved compliment, doesn’t mean you suddenly forget they’re an arrogant twat.
As much as Tabby wanted to hate the girl on the dance floor, for being able to wear those shoes and that dress, and pull of the chic-party-girl-look, she almost had to pity her. She was staring uncertainly into Harry’s eyes as he convinced her she was the most important person in the world. And he was damn good at it, Tabby had to admit, watching the girl go from sullen, to unsure, to begrudgingly amused. By the end of whatever speech he’d given her, she was looking at him like he was the answer to her prayers. Which, Tabby was pretty sure, he certainly was not.
‘So-’ Tabby turned to Chandra, who simply held up a finger.
‘You know the rule, Tabs.’
Chandra’s Thirty Second Rule: After an important encounter with a member of the opposite sex (or in Rhi’s case, a member of either sex she was actually interested in) you had to wait thirty seconds before discussing it. Chandra said this was to allow information to properly sink in, and discuss things with a clear head. Tabby only adhered because it meant the person they were discussing was usually across the room by that point, and wouldn’t accidentally overhear.
‘It wasn’t an encounter!’ Tabby whined, ‘He’s my boss!’
‘Mmf!’ Chandra held her hand up yet again, ‘twenty-seven, twenty-eight…’
Tabby huffed and crossed her arms, purposefully not looking at the dance floor, where she was sure Harry was using his other skills to convince the girl of how important she was.
‘Thirty!’ Chandra paused, ‘EEEEEEP! So cute! Why haven’t you boinked his brains out yet?’
‘Ew, Chands, don’t say boinked,’ Tabby felt her stomach twitch, and gestured towards the dance floor, ‘and because, clearly, she is.’
‘Yeah, for tonight. What about tomorrow?’
‘I cannot casually sleep with my editor!’
‘Because…?’
Because been there, done that and it almost ruined my life? Tabby grasped around for an answer that wasn’t pathetic and grounded in self-doubt.
‘Because it’s unprofessional, I’m there to write.’
‘So write after a night of head-banging sex with a guy who looks like he knows what to do. Jeez. I’ve never met anyone so resistant to an orgasm.’
‘Mean!’ Tabby looked around at the surrounding tables, incase anyone had heard. Conversations with Chandra concerning sex always seemed to be louder than any other conversation she took part in.
‘Well, when was the last time you had sex?’ Chandra asked simply, eating the cherry from her cocktail.
‘You know when. You made me discuss it in painful detail the morning after.’
Chandra’s eyebrows disappeared under her fringe. ‘The clammy hands guy? That was ages ago!’
‘Well, it put me off for life, okay?’ Tabby knew she was getting defensive, but all this talk was making her crabby. Even if she liked him, which she didn’t, she wouldn’t do anything about it. ‘Look, I’m not sleeping with him, okay? I’m not doing anything with him except writing a bunch of articles. And even that is under duress. I’m just not interested in him.’
Chandra’s eyes moved past her to the dance floor, and of course, she couldn’t help but look. Harry had his arms around the doll-like girl, but looked across at Tabby, stuck his tongue out and winked.
‘Fifty quid says you don’t last a month,’ Chandra grinned.
‘Bad odds,’ Tabby sighed, breaking eye contact, and finishing the rest of her drink in one gulp.

____________________________________________

A.L. Michael is a novelist who runs creative writing workshops. She’s graduated from UEA’s prestigious BA in English Literature with Creative Writing, has an MA in Creative Entrepreneurship and is studying for an MsC in Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes. Her first novel Wine Dark, Sea Blue was published by Stairwell Books in 2013, her next two novels, starting with The Last Word, will be published by Carina UK in 2014.

The Making of ‘An Average Joe’s Search for the Meaning of Life’

Today, I’m happy to host writer David Shaw, a fellow Carina UK author.  David is sharing a fascinating story on how he came to write about spirituality.

The date was January 2007. The place was Glasgow. The occasion was truly divine.

As I sat in a room devoid of all natural light, I ironically found myself immersed in pure light. And this particular light signified life – everlasting life. And although there were only a handful of us sitting in this cramped, decadent room, hidden deep within an archetypal Victorian townhouse – I had never felt more alive.

The séance was spectacular. Objects, carefully adorned with luminous tape, were witnessed flying through the air at such breath-taking speeds that you knew instantly there was no way anyone in the room could have been responsible for such incredulous feats of wonder. We were also graced by the voices of some delightful spirit people, including operatic and rock singers, treating us to the enthralling sound of their dulcet tones through the spirit trumpet.

Just before the séance drew to a close, the unmistakeable voice of one of spiritualism’s most iconic pioneers of the last century, Gordon Higginson, spoke clearly through the trance mediumship of Tom Anderson. Tom was the organiser of the séance and his trance mediumship regularly brought forward some of the great mediums of the past – who were all now attempting to prove life after death from the enchantments of the spirit dimension. Gordon utilised Tom’s voice to convey his thanks to all the sitters for their participation in this remarkable event, and to deliver a special message to one of the sitters – me! And even though this message was received many years ago, I still remember the exact words relayed by Gordon.

“David will be working with us soon on an important project. We will be using his hidden talent to broaden the knowledge of mediumship and eternal life. This project will ultimately become very successful.”

After the séance had ended, I remember discussing this message with the rest of the sitters, who all asked me what I thought this hidden talent could possibly be. I had absolutely no idea whatsoever and admitted that this revelation had been a complete shock to me. The problem was that spirit guides of this calibre of knowledge are only ever permitted to give extremely vague guidance on your life development. They are prohibited by spiritual laws from telling you what you should or shouldn’t do, as this form of interference would contravene the law of cause and effect. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop me from wondering what this secret ability might be. Incredibly, it would be several years later before I eventually discovered the answer and never in my wildest dreams did I think it would be writing spiritual books.

At the end of the year, I decided to undertake a spiritual sabbatical. I felt that I needed to investigate all the different avenues of the human mind and its capabilities. My subsequent education stretched through the fields of Psychotherapy, Hypnotherapy and the wonderfully inspiring Past Life Regression. I soon discovered that the greatest of psychological minds had only gone so far in their research into the consciousness of the human mind, stopping short of any conclusions once an individual had died. One or two open-minded experts produced highly conceivable theories of an eternal consciousness that connected all souls in a though-based collective. But how could they then prove this theory in any realistic format from a scientific basis. In truth, they never could. In the end, there was only ever one way that I could truly find out the meaning of life; the sole reason why so many of us endure so much pain, hardship and grief. I would have to ask the very souls that I previously loved working with in the séance room on so many memorable occasions. And as I was subtly drawn back to the world of mediumship, I knew that deep down I was returning as a much more knowledgeable individual, and one that was now ready to discover the truth.

My work with deep trance mediumship recommenced and I was immediately informed by my spirit guides that I would need to write about my own personal life journey if I wanted to find the true meaning of life. Only then would this knowledge make sense to me. The thought of writing about my own life daunted me. Why would my life seem even remotely interesting to anyone? After all, I was only an average Joe – nobody special. I was then assured that this was the prime reason why they had chosen me. The stone was now firmly set. I would begin my spiritual biography as soon as possible. I could see the title in my mind – ‘An Average Joe’s Search for the Meaning of Life.’

The day before I began writing, I received a surprise telephone call from Tom Anderson, the medium who organised the séances that I used to attend. Tom was in the area and asked if he could pop round for a chat. After we discussed how to put the world to right over a coffee, Tom got up to leave. He then turned to me and smiled, before asking if I had found the meaning of life yet.

The reality was that I hadn’t told a soul about the title or the topic of my book. I hadn’t even started writing yet! Tom was simply delivering a subtle message from the spirit world. It was then that I remembered the message that Gordon Higginson had conveyed to the séance all those years ago.

The rest, as they say, is simply history…

__________________________________________

David Shaw grew up an average kid in an average neighbourhood in Ayrshire. Like many an Average Joe, he does ordinary things: goes to work, supports his local football team, puts the world to rights over a pint. But this Average Joe is anything but average. Styling himself ‘spiritcounsellor’, he shares with us an extraordinary journey through the twilight world.

Blessed with the ability to see and hear those who’ve passed on, and, helped by his spirit guides Black Hawk and Mr Chung, David shares with us his extraordinary story of receiving messages from the other side.

You can purchase An Average Joe’s Search for the Meaning of Life on Amazon.

 

Leap Into Books Blog Hop

I’ve joined with hundreds of other bloggers in the Leap into Books Blog Hop, hosted by I am a Reader, not a Writer and co-hosted by Jinky is Reading.

For this amazing event, I’m offering three terrific prizes.  Each winner will receive an e-copy of my newest urban fantasy, Stage Fright.  First place will also win a $10.00 Amazon gift card, and second place will win a $5.00 Amazon gift card.

All you need to do is fill out the Rafflecopter form below!  Then scroll on down to the Linky List for other blogs in the hop.

Contest Rules:

Three, individual winners will be chosen.  No one may win more than one prize.
Winners will be chosen at random by Rafflecopter.  Winner names (first initial, last name) will be announced on this blog at the end of the contest.
Winners will be notified by e-mail.  Each winner will have one week (seven days) to respond to the e-mail I send.  If I do not get a response within seven days, I will chose another winner.
First prize is an e-copy of Stage Fright and a $10.00 Amazon gift card.
Second prize is a $5.00 Amazon gift card and an e-copy of Stage Fright.
Third prize is an e-copy of Stage Fright.
All prizes will be sent via e-mail.

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Interview with a Succubus

Today, I’ve got a very special guest.  It’s Lilith Straight, the star of Straight to Hell.  She’s agreed to answer a few questions about her life as a succubus, what Hell is like, and her feelings towards William Benedict.

Thanks for being here today, Lilith.  Tell me, what’s it like being a succubus?

It isn’t fun, let me tell you.  One of the worst things is that I feel like someone is always looking over my shoulder.  I mean, there are doorways to Hell all over my house, and the demons think they can pop in on me no matter what I’m doing!  They have no sense of boundaries.  Sometimes, I feel like an animal in a cage at the zoo.  But if I try to pop in on them, they get very cranky.

What’s Hell really like?

 It might surprise you to know that Hell is either really boring or really scary.  There’s no middle ground.  There aren’t any torture chambers (that I’ve seen anyway), but there are endless, bleak hallways, poor lighting, and gray carpeting.  Then there are the demons.  My overlord, Miss Spry, is the thing that nightmares are made from.  One evil look from her makes my heart stop and has me pleading for mercy.

How does William Benedict fit into your life?

He doesn’t.  William does what he wants when he wants to.  I admit that there are times when he is good company, and he’s given me a lot of advice about how to endure Hell.  However, Mostly, he’s an arrogant, egotistical bastard.  Admittedly a sexy, arrogant bastard.  But still.

Remember, there’s still time to enter the We

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I Love Romance – Cinema Style

Today, the We enter the fabulous giveaways!)

Shakespeare in Love – I love period pieces, and this movie is both historic (inaccurate though it might be) and romantic.  Gweneth Paltrow and Joseph Fiennes have the chemistry.  Forbidden love…forbidden desires…count me in!
Gone with the Wind – I hate the way that the movie portrays slavery, but I do think that Rhett and Scarlet are a fantastic pair.  She’s feisty, he’s a loveable cad.  Those two were made for each other.
Enemy at the Gate – Okay, this is probably not on anyone’s top five romantic movie list, but it’s got a love triangle to die for.  The fact that it stars both Jude Law and Joseph Fiennes, is a double bonus.
When Harry Met Sally – Beyond a doubt my favorite romantic comedy.  This story of best friends becoming lovers is hilarious.  It’s a sweet, funny, lovely movie, and its guaranteed to lift me up when I’m down.
Say Anything – Boombox scene.  ‘nough said.