K.R. Gastreich's Blog, page 22

Every Writer’s Nightmare (or, How to Write a Synopsis)

Few things make a writer groan more than the word synopsis. 

I still remember my first encounter with the s-word, back when I finished my novel Eolyn and started the long arduous task of submissions. It seemed an insult, somehow, that anyone should demand I write a less-than-3000-word version of a story that clearly took 120,000 words to tell properly.  I mean, really. Who did these submissions editors think they were?

I’ve come a long way, I like to think, since those first rather botched attempts at writing a synopsis. And I have some good news for all my fellow synopsis haters: You don’t need a fantastic synopsis in order to land a publisher. The synopses that I wrote for Eolyn were not very good. Still, Hadley Rille Books took pity on me. Or, more likely, they saw some detail in that first synopsis that piqued their interest enough to ask for the opening chapters of my manuscript, and eventually to offer me a contract.

My personal anecdote aside, the better your synopsis is, the better your chances at reaching that next step in the submissions process, the request for a full. Your skills as a writer need to shine in that synopsis. The events of your novel should come through with the same passionate intensity that generated the 120,000 words it took to tell everything properly in the first place.

Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve had a bit of an epiphany on synopsis writing. I’ve decided to share some of those insights here, in hopes that they’ll help other authors come to terms with this dreaded task.

My first and most important epiphany: If I hate writing this, everyone else is going to hate reading it. 

What we feel at the time we write comes through in our prose, whether we are telling an adventure story for our kids or finishing that interim report at work. If you despise sitting down in front of the computer and grinding out that synopsis, that resentment will come through in your writing. So the first challenge is to figure out how to make writing the synopsis fun for you. If you can answer that question (and it’s likely to be a somewhat different answer for every author out there), then you can probably skip the rest of what I have to say. Everything else that follows is my personal answer to this same question: How can I make synopsis writing fun for me?

Focus on characters, not on events. This is, coincidentally, also a basic rule of teaching history. The boring history classes are the ones where we have to memorize timelines. The interesting history classes allow us to discover the personalities behind the events, the real men and women who lived, hoped, struggled, and died during the times given to them. An editor does not want to read a chronology any more than you want to write one. So instead of listing what happened when, emphasize the people in your story: who they are, their hopes and dreams, and how circumstances lead them to decisions, actions, and consequences. Believe me, this makes the synopsis so much easier. You will feel like you are sitting down with your characters again, having coffee and chatting over old times, going through family albums, and the like. No one wants their life story summarized in a list of dates and events. Remember this when writing about the journey of your characters.

You don’t need to include everyone. In fantasy, this is a particular challenge. Fantasy worlds typically have oodles of characters, and even minor ones can play important roles. But your synopsis doesn’t have room for them all. Keep a tight focus on your protagonist(s) and only include the bare essentials of all those other characters involved in their lives. Yes, this means certain threads won’t make it into your synopsis, but that’s okay. What the editor wants to see is the primary conflict, and the character arcs of those directly involved in this conflict.

Events don’t necessarily need to be in exactly the same order as they are in the novel. I didn’t understand this until fairly late in the game, but it’s an important flexibility to have. The structure of the synopsis can be slightly different from the structure of the novel. The order of certain scenes and events may need to be tweaked for better flow, in order to facilitate the communication of a lot of information in a very condensed space.

Make sure to include the ending! Not a new revelation at all, but I see this piece of advice repeated a lot, so I’ll do the same here. Do not leave the submissions editor hanging. It’s important that he or she understand, by the end of your synopsis, that you know how to bring a big messy conflict to a clean and satisfying ending. Everything you write in the synopsis should flow neatly into the summary of that final chapter.

Go ahead! Use your favorite lines. All of us have sparkle moments in our novels, places where we were particularly connected to our muse and the words came out just perfectly. Find a way to weave these sparkle moments into your synopsis, in the same way a movie trailer gives us a sampling of the most exciting scenes of a movie. The synopsis is an opportunity to let your best moments as a writer shine.

Okay. That’s my advice. I hope it’s helpful. If anyone out there has ideas and suggestions to add, fire away! If not, go back to working on that amazing (and fun!) synopsis. Good luck!

What We Believe

All four gospels agree that Mary Magdalene was the first witness to the resurrection, a not-so-subtle hint as to the importance Jesus placed on women in his ministry.

In Costa Rica, celebration of Easter is embedded in the larger event of Semana Santa, or Holy Week. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of Semana Santa are national holidays. Many families take the entire week off to travel to the beach or the mountains. Others enjoy their vacation in the city, with friends and family at home.

For the faithful, there are processions and services to commemorate the final days of Jesus. The largest procession takes place on Good Friday, a re-enactment of the crucifixion that moves slowly through the streets. The sale of alcohol is banned, but most people get around this by stocking up beforehand. Eating meat is prohibited, but no one truly fasts. Indeed, the daily menu is packed full of seafood delicacies, baked goods, and the like. From a certain perspective, Holy Week might be considered the Costa Rican equivalent of Thanksgiving, in terms of the sheer amount of food put on the table, as well as the cultural emphasis on family gatherings.

By Easter Sunday, most of the excitement has died down. As a Hispanic country, Costa Rica embraces few of the northern European pagan traditions that have shaped Easter in the U.S. There are no Easter eggs here, no Easter baskets, and most tragically, no chocolate Easter bunnies. (Of course, we’ve all eaten more than enough paella by Sunday anyway, so it’s probably best to avoid chocolate and jelly beans.) In fact, relatively few people go to mass on Easter Sunday, since the “big” day here for worship is Good Friday.

For faithful Catholics in Costa Rica, the culmination of Holy Week is the Good Friday procession, a custom inherited from Spanish conquistadores that commemorates the crucifixion.

Though I no longer attend Catholic mass, Holy Week continues to be important for me, spiritually and culturally. My personal reflections this year have centered on a related tenant of the Catholic faith: the Second Coming.

Catholics (and I think, pretty much all Christians) believe that Jesus’s story did not end with the crucifixion and resurrection. It’s prophesied that Christ will return someday, to rule over the “Kingdom of God” on Earth. In the Catholic Church, this belief is celebrated during the lesser-known holiday of Christ the King. (Why we insist, in this day and age, on imposing a feudal organization on the spiritual realm is beyond me. I would much rather have a “Democracy of God” and a “Christ the President”, but that is a topic for another post…)

Belief in the Second Coming is a tougher challenge than belief in the crucifixion and resurrection. Prophecies are shrouded in mystery and riddle, subject to multiple interpretations. As a result, there have been countless moments in history where people have believed the Second Coming is at hand, only to be disappointed once again. This is just as true now as it was a thousand or two thousand years ago. And if we are to be honest with ourselves, we’ve had multiple apocalypses by now. So, what in the name of Christ, is Christ still waiting for?

When I was a girl attending Catholic grade school in Kansas City, I had a remarkable religion teacher, Sr. Catherine. One of the many things I remember from her class (and I remember more from her class than from all the sermons I’ve heard before or since) is what she taught us about the Second Coming:

“I believe Christ will not return,” Sr. Catherine announced one day, “until we as a society have established the Kingdom of God on Earth.”

The first thing that went through my head when I heard this was, “Wow. That’s never gonna happen.”

It’s sad to realize, looking back, that at the tender age of twelve I’d already grown cynical about the capacity of humans to achieve a world of peace, justice, and love.

Maybe salvation will come from above, but like Sr. Catherine, I tend to believe the future is in our hands.

But as Sr. Catherine’s words percolated through my spirit, I began to understand the power of this belief she professed. What if it were true that the Second Coming depended intimately, wholly, on us? How would it change the way we live, the way we interact with each other, the choices we make on a day-to-day basis?

Which path of faith would have more impact: passively waiting for Christ to come again so he can destroy the riff raff and save the rest, or proactively building a better world, brick by brick, so that we can welcome the spirit of God back into our midst?

As time has gone on, the simple wisdom of Sr. Catherine continues to resonate with me. Hers are words that I wish were repeated many times the world over. Words that might make a difference. That’s why I’m repeating them here, today, for you:

The Second Coming is not Christ’s job, it’s ours. In order for it to happen, we must build a world of peace, justice, and love. We must eliminate poverty, hatred, and bigotry. We must put a stop to greed and exploitation. We must love our neighbor, as Jesus once urged us to do. If we don’t succeed in making manifest the world Jesus envisioned, Christ cannot and will not return. This might be a depressing thought for some, but it puts the challenge right where it needs to be: On our shoulders. Here, and now. As active participants in the journey of faith.

Many blessings to all of you this Easter season. May our actions this year bring everyone closer to a world of peace, justice, and love.

 

The Hard Copy Edit (and other writerly tricks)

I had to print up the galleys for HIGH MAGA, but then again, I’m old school when it comes to editing.

A couple years back, when we were heading into the final stages of publication for High Maga, I took a picture of the printed proof and posted it on Facebook. This elicited lots excitement about the coming release, and one curious comment:

“A paper copy!” one of my friends wrote. “I didn’t know those existed any more.”

I have a fair amount of techno savvy – more than some, less than others – but it never occurred to me until that moment there were writers in the world who no longer messed with paper. Welcome to the new millennium, Karin!

Being part of a transitional generation, my writing habits have changed a lot over the years. The initial draft of my first novel, Eolyn, was written entirely by hand in journals, to be transcribed and polished on my laptop computer. However, by the time I sat down to write High Maga, I was composing almost everything directly on the computer.

I have to admit, sometimes I miss the gritty feel of pen on paper, the satisfaction of slashing through entire sections, making notes in margins, and so forth. Cut, paste, delete just doesn’t carry the same level of physical and emotional engagement in the editing process. Still, I’m also fairly certain my journal writing days are over. Whenever I sit down and try to do things again with pen and paper, the thoughts just don’t flow like they used to. Like they do now in front of the keyboard.

Although most of my writing is now electronic, at some point toward the end of crafting a novel I simply must go through a print copy of my work. Maybe there’s a neuro-cognitive explanation for this somewhere, but the simple truth is there are many details that slip by me on screen that I invariably catch on paper. And I’m not just talking about missing commas or extra spaces. Sometimes major errors somehow disappear inside the on-screen text, only to jump out at me when I have the print copy in hand. And yes, with the print copy I get to return to the old joy of marking up, slashing out, making notes in the margin, and in general, feeling that scratch of pen upon paper that is somehow so fulfilling for me as a writer.

So, yes, my friends of the new millennium. Paper copies of manuscripts still exist. Indeed, I couldn’t do without them.

How about you? Are you a 100% on-screen editor, or do you need to print things up the old-fashioned way like me? What other tricks do you have to catch those errors that tend to melt into the background once you’ve viewed a manuscript a thousand times?

And just out of curiosity, does anyone out there still use a journal?

L. Blankenship and The Disciple Series

Hello! We’re taking a break from regular programming today to welcome L. Blankenship to my blog. Blankenship is celebrating the release of the latest installment for her fantasy series, The Disciple. Check it out!

War is coming. Kate Carpenter is only a peasant girl, but she’s determined to help defend the kingdom and its bound saints against the invading empire. Her healing magic earned her a coveted apprenticeship with the master healer; now she must prove herself ready to stand in the front lines and save lives.

She’s not ready for the attentions of a ne’er-do-well knight and the kingdom’s only prince, though. This is no time to be distracted by romance — the empire’s monstrous army will tear through anyone standing between them and the kingdom’s magical founts. All disciples must put aside their tangled feelings and stand in the homeland’s defense.

Disciple

the six-part gritty fantasy romance series is now complete!

Disciple, Part VI on sale at Amazon • B&N • More retailers

Download Disciple, Part I for free!

Amazon • B&N • More retailers

Email me if you can’t get it for free: blankenship.louise at gmail

 

Excerpt from Part I

“You couldn’t sleep either?”

At the whisper, I looked up from struggling to lace my boots with trembling hands. My master stepped into my dormitory room, adding his lamp’s light to my candle.

“Why must I dress as a boy?” I whispered back. Perhaps I was not so buxom, but I doubted I’d fool anyone. “This makes little sense.”

“Patience.” Master Parselev placed his lamp on my writing-table and checked my packed bags. “They’re gathering at the chapel already. None of us got much sleep, it seems.”

The straw mattress creaked when I stood, boots laced and the woolen hose sagging between my thighs. I ran my fingers around my waist, under my layered cotes, to check the drawstring. “Are these right, Master?” I’d strung the hose and braies together as best I could guess and as memory was my Blessing I had no excuse for failing. Men’s underthings weren’t much concern to me — if I saw such, or more, it was while the man lay bleeding on the surgery table.

“If they stay up, it’s right. Good. This too.” He slung a heavy felt cloak across my shoulders and pinned it on. The hood buried my face in shadows; my blonde braid, even wrapped around my head, would give me away.

I asked, “Master, this journey will be long, won’t it?” Parselev had given me more clothes than I’d ever owned to pack in those bags. All heavy winter woolens, too. “Shouldn’t you go, then?”

He looked down at me, mouth quirking to one side. Master was a greybeard, said to be over a hundred years old, but his kir kept his eyes bright and his face lightly creased. I had only been his apprentice two years. Surely I could not be ready for this.

“It must be you, Kate,” was all he said.

Disciple Omnibus

collects all six books • save big!

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Doorstop paperbacks at Createspace • Amazon to come

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The Fires of Galia

The magic of volcanoes like Turrialba, pictured here, inspired one of the most important cultures of Eolyn’s world.

One of my favorite stories to tell is about the formation of Central America. I’ve given this lecture for many different audiences at multiple academic levels over the course of about fifteen years. Still, I never tire of retelling the story, rolling through about 250 million years of history in just over an hour.

Central America is one of the most geologically dynamic places on the planet, surpassed only, perhaps, by Indonesia (the home of the great volcano Krakatoa). The oldest pieces of the Central American isthmus date back about 65 million years. According to our best estimates, the land bridge was completed about 3-5 million years ago, connecting two continents, North and South America, that had been separated since the break-up of Pangaea.

Today the land bridge continues to grow and change. The Cocos plate, which underlies the Pacific Ocean in this part of the world, is rear-ending the Caribbean plate. This collision creates a subduction zone, where one plate sinks below the other. As the Cocos plate sinks, the Caribbean plate buckles and pushes upward, creating the mountain ranges of Central America. Because of this violent collision, a string of active and dormant volcanoes stretches across Panama, Costa Rica, and Nicaragua.

Just a couple weeks ago, Turrialba Volcano in Costa Rica had a major eruption, spreading ash across the Central Valley of Costa Rica. At our home in Heredia, we got a relatively light dusting, but it was visible and messy and best of all, a brand new experience for me.

Next time you have a great cup of coffee, remember to thank the volcanoes!

Volcanoes are cool. From a distance, that is. They inspire awe and embody the majesty of nature unleashed; they are at once beautiful and terrible. There’s nothing we can do to avoid the destructive power of a volcano, except of course, get out of the way before it’s too late.

The devastation caused by a volcano may seem absolute, but life has recovered from volcanic eruptions time and again. Plants, animals, and their cohorts always manage to recolonize areas devastated by ash, lava, and pyroclastic gases.

Indeed, volcanoes feed life by fertilizing the earth. All that amazing coffee you drink in your local cafe is almost certainly grown on volcanic soils. Most recently, small volcanic eruptions have been credited with slowing global warming. And who can forget all those wonderful therapeutic hot springs made possible by volcanoes?

The magic of volcanoes provided the primary inspiration for one of the important cultures of Eolyn’s world, the People of Galia. Galians share a certain heritage with Moisehén. They consider themselves followers of Dragon and descendents of Aithne and Caradoc. However, their magical traditions are unique, shaped in part by the spectacular landscape in which they dwell.

The Galian wizards and their love for magas receives its first mention in the novel Eolyn. The Kingdom of Galia supported the magas in their struggle against Akmael’s father Kedehen. When the magas lost the war and the purges started, Galia provided refuge to fleeing magas and cut off all relations with the Mage Kings of Moisehén.

A view from the summit of Barú Volcano in Panama. Eolyn’s sword, infused with Galian magic, was named after this volcano.

In High Maga, Eolyn inherits the sword Kel’barú,infused with the mysterious magic of Galia. One of the untold back stories of Eolyn’s journey is that this sword once belonged to the family of her father Eoghan, a Galian warrior who fell in love with her mother Kaie. Kel’barú speaks to Eolyn because of the magic that binds it to anyone of her father’s blood line. It’s name, Kel’barú, was inspired by the real-world Barú Volcano in Panama.

Despite Eolyn’s heritage and the importance of Kel’barú, the Galians have had a tangential role in her story. For two novels, I’ve been wanting to find a way to bring the Galians more center stage. Daughter of Aithne gave me that opportunity. When the Galians align with the Kingdom of Roenfyn against Moisehen, we get to meet them in all their color and glory. They are a vibrant people, boisterous and bold like the fiery mountains that paint their home. Their prince, Savegre, has become one of my favorite romantic heroes of the series.

I’ll be talking more about the Galians and all the other players of Daughter of Aithne in the months to come, as we approach the release of Eolyn’s next great adventure. In the mean time, stay tuned & dream deep of fiery volcanoes and fearsome magic.

A closing video: Villarrica Volcano in Chile erupted this year on my birthday. Here’s some spectacular footage of that event:

The Story I’ve Always Wanted to Write

Thomas Vandenberg, who created this iconic image of Eolyn for the cover of HIGH MAGA, will also do the cover art for DAUGHTER OF AITHNE.

I’m about 80% through the list of edits given me by Terri-Lynne DeFino for Daughter of Aithne. The focus right now is on ‘big’ fixes. Once I’m finished with that, I’ll do another run through for the devilish details: grammar, punctuation, continuity of all those strange fantasy names, and so forth. Once the manuscript is near-final, I’ll send it to artist Thomas Vandenberg so we can start work on the cover. And of course, Terri may want another read-through, and there’ll be copy editing, formatting, and all sorts of other preparations to come.

The long road to publication has begun.

Daughter of Aithne brings Eolyn’s journey full-circle in a way I didn’t foresee when I wrote book one. Indeed, “book one” wasn’t “book one” at the time I published. “Book one” was simply Eolyn, my first novel, written with much love and meant to be self-contained in its conflict, climax, and denouement.

Then, about a month after I signed my first contract with Hadley Rille Books, ideas began to come together for a sequel. High Maga was born and painstakingly developed over months and years to come. Decidedly darker than its predecessor, book two captures a period of Eolyn’s life when her journey becomes exceedingly painful, her choices difficult and complicated.

Unlike Eolyn, High Maga was not written to be self-contained. You can read it – and enjoy it – without having seen book one or going on to book three, but you won’t understand the full meaning of the events  unless you complete the series. I’ve often said it’s unfair to hold a reader hostage in this fashion, but as an author I’ve come to realize that certain themes are too complex to receive due treatment in just one novel.

So we come to Daughter of Aithne.  

Looking back, it’s hard for me to imagine how I ever wrote that first book without envisioning this third installment.  Eolyn  is a story of hope; High Maga of destruction. In Daughter of Aithne, we see the building of a new future as circumstances at last come together to allow Eolyn and her cohorts to imagine a world different from the one they inherited.

This is something we don’t see all that often in fantasy. Most fantasy characters must accept the world as it is given them. They may have the strength and courage to overcome the challenges of that world, but they are rarely allowed to implement real changes in the fabric of the society to which they are born.

So in order to introduce women warriors, fantasy authors have created societies in which women-at-arms are basically accepted, even if as an exception to the rule. To make a woman part of a matriarchal power line, we imagine worlds where matriarchy has existed for centuries, with no real or effective challenge to that status quo. Worlds where women and men have equal opportunities in a wide range of societal roles are well-established as such by page one of the novel in question.

These are examples of wonderful fantasy worlds where our women characters, our true heroines, have been able to flourish.  But what about the other possibility? What about the struggle for change that breaks open opportunities never before available to women?  And not just for that exceptional character who proves she can do it just like the guys, but for all women everywhere?

I am a proud daughter of the Women’s Movement. I look back on the society to which my mother was born, and I can’t help but feel a deep gratitude for the sacrifices and struggles that made it possible for all the women afterwards to enjoy privileges unimaginable even sixty years ago. We are living a revolution, a struggle that in many ways has not yet ended.

Wouldn’t it be nice to see that revolution, and its makers, honored as metaphors in our stories? Wouldn’t it be nice to promote change as an integral part of the journey of fantasy?

I didn’t realize it when I started Eolyn, but these were some of the questions that motivated the series. What if women – key women, of a particular character – were given the opportunity to change the world? Would they imagine it differently from the men before them?  Or would they subscribe to the same power structures, the same intrigues, the same tools for resolving conflict?

There are many possible answers to these questions; and a thousand stories waiting to be written that might address them. Eolyn, High Maga, and most of all, Daughter of Aithne are just three examples.

As with Eolyn, the denouement of Daughter of Aithne flies in the face of conventional fantasy.  It is a dangerous ending in some ways, one that may get me into trouble with certain sectors. Readers will either love it or hate it.  In fact, my worst fear in sending the manuscript to my editor was that she would advise me against the ending.  But Terri didn’t do that. In fact, she loves the vision behind Daughter of Aithne, and she is just as excited as I am to see it in print.

That is, once I finish fixing all the things she told me to fix.

It’s taken two novels to set up Daughter of Aithne correctly, but now I’m almost there. This is the book I’ve always wanted to write, and I’m very much looking forward to sharing it with you.

Where It All Began

The spider monkey, one of four species of monkeys found in Corcovado National Park. (Photo by Rafael Aguilar Chaves.)

All of us have origin stories, ranging from epic tales of how the universe began to smaller but equally important moments in life that set us off in fundamentally new directions.

One of my origin stories happened in the Osa Peninsula, Costa Rica. I first traveled to the Osa in the summer of 1991, one of a handful of graduate students that followed our intrepid adviser Dr. Larry Gilbert to the edge of the known universe: Sirena Station in Corcovado National Park. My experience in Corcovado sealed my commitment to tropical ecology, and set me off on a long career of teaching and research in Costa Rica.

Corcovado houses a unique forest, the only lowland tropical rain forest on the Pacific coast of Central America, extraordinary in its diversity and home to many species found nowhere else in the world. It has multiple moods: as a poetic forest of towering trees; as a mysterious forest of filtered light and shadowy mosaics; a peaceful forest of crystalline rivers and tropical breezes; a noisy forest of monkeys and macaws; a dangerous forest of snakes and pumas. Above all, it is a forest of endless discovery.

In 1991, Sirena Station was a small outpost that housed researchers, park guards, and a handful of outback hikers dedicated to boldly going where no tourist had gone before. As graduate students, we spent five weeks in complete isolation. There were no telephones, only a park radio, and certainly no such thing as internet or WiFi. Visitors were few and far between, and for this reason, always welcome. We had each other and the forest for company. In the end, that was all we needed.

Trees will grow, fall, and be replaced, but the forest remains eternal – as long as we are willing to protect it. (Photo by Rafael Aguilar Chaves.)

Many of my cohorts completed the research for their dissertations in Corcovado. I eventually moved outside of Sirena but remained on Osa Peninsula, conducting my own studies in the forest reserve that surrounded the park. This was a period of magic and adventure, when my world was reduced to a few thousand hectares of forest and yet broken wide open in a way it had never been before. Osa taught me how to listen to the forest. I’ve never forgotten this lesson, and I try to impart to my own students whenever I can.

Last week, to celebrated my birthday, we returned to some of my old haunts in the Osa Peninsula. I had not been back to the Osa in over ten years, and even more time had passed since my last visit to Sirena Station in Corcovado. We hiked a full day in through the forest, from Los Patos Station on the eastern border of the park to Sirena, which lays on the western coast. Two nights we camped in Sirena before hiking out to La Leona, where we stayed at a beautiful oasis, Ecolodge La Leona, before returning home to Heredia.

I learned a lot on this trip; more than can fit in a 500-word blog post. So I will focus on a couple of the most important lessons:

The forest is eternal. If we define boundaries and dedicate our efforts to protecting the space, then twenty-four years later, the woodland we so valued in our youth will remain for others to enjoy. True, there will be turnover of individual trees, movement of animals, and so forth. But the fundamental magic remains the same. This was very encouraging for me, to see that Corcovado has remained Corcovado, despite the passage of time and the many threats it has faced.

Sirena Station has been renovated and expanded, but now it houses a very different sort of community.

The human element is ephemeral.  While the forest has remained constant, the human world superimposed on Corcovado has changed dramatically. Gone are the small and friendly stations I once knew; vanished are the communities dominated by researchers dedicated to understanding the forest. Sirena is no longer a remote outpost; it is a popular tourist attraction. Hundreds of visitors arrive every day, by boat and plane. They come to see monkeys and macaws, but they are no longer willing or able to dedicate the time and energy once necessary to reach this beautiful corner of the planet.

It seems to me Sirena has lost something and gained something in this transition to high-capacity tourism. The costs and benefits of the new reality can be debated at length, but beneath it all, the forest that makes the experience possible remains constant.

I’m not sure what it all means, but I was moved to reflect a lot this past week. At the end of the day I’m very grateful for having had the opportunity to know Corcovado when I did, at a moment in history when only a handful of people had what it took to reach the heart of this forest and connect with it on an intimate level. In truth, I never anticipated that reality would change so quickly and completely.

I’m also very grateful that Corcovado has been preserved these past decades despite all the threats it has faced and the hordes of people that visit it now. There’s something immutable in the spirit of this forest. I remain hopeful that its integrity will persist through the many changes to come.

I’m not as young as I was when I first entered Corcovado, but I can still do the 9-hour hike in and the 6-hour hike out. Yay me! (Photo by Rafael Aguilar Chaves.)

Love Thy Editor

Exploring the cloud forest with students from the School of Environmental Studies and Ruta Verde Tours.

I’m in a wonderful spot right now, a brief respite between two amazing trips. Last week, I traveled the cloud forests of Monteverde and the lowland jungle of Arenal Volcano with the School of Environmental Studies and Ruta Verde Tours. This week, I will hike into one of the most spectacular rain forests of the Neotropics: Corcovado National Park.

In the interim, I received word from my editor Terri-Lynne DeFino, who finished reading the first next-to-final draft of Daughter of Aithne. The good news: Terri is very pleased with the vision and depth that has gone into my third novel. The bad news? Well, let me share with you the first golden rule of writing to publish:

There is no such thing as bad news from your editor. 

Even if she slashes apart your favorite chapter,

even if he throws out your wittiest moment,

even if she makes you kill your main character,

even if he asks you to completely rework the whole damn thing,

Rejoice!

Need to let off some steam? Maybe zipline is the answer!

Your editor has just saved you from the worst of all fates: publishing a manuscript that will only disappoint your readers and damage your future as a writer.

Back when I first went into publishing, which wasn’t so long ago, the industry was on the verge of a momentous change: Self-publishing loomed on the horizon as a viable option for many new authors.

“Wouldn’t it be great,” some of my colleagues said, “to bypass the antiquated hoops of an ossified industry?”

“Wouldn’t it be great not to have to deal with an editor?”

Fortunately, the culture of self-publishing has come a long way in a very short time. Nowadays, every author worth his or her salt knows the importance of having a good editor, whether you publish with an established press or not. The editor has the most crucial job in the writer’s journey: to keep us from embarrassing ourselves when the manuscript goes to press.

More than this, editors allow us to reach our full potential as story tellers.

So if you’ve just heard from your editor with a long list of tasks that need to be done before your work goes public, don’t throw the computer against the wall or lock yourself in the bathroom or drown your sorrows in liquor. The simple truth of writing is that we will never achieve our best unless we can depend on someone else to point out our mistakes and push us toward a higher bar.

A view of Arenal Volcano serves as a gentle reminder not to blow your top when you hear from your editor.

Yeah, it’s a pain to be looking at another few weeks (or months!) of work, but isn’t that better than putting out a bad novel and suffering the ire of readers instead?

Breath deep. Take a break. Go for a walk. Do something fun.

Once you’re refreshed, come back home, sit down, and get to work. After all, your next best novel is only a list of edits away.

Oh – and don’t forget to thank your editor!

Beautiful Monster, a new novel by Jeanne Bannon

I am so excited today to welcome author Jeanne Bannon to my blog!

Jeanne has been a part of the publishing industry for over twenty years, working first as a freelance journalist, then as an in-house editor for LexisNexis Canada. She currently works as a freelance editor and writer and is represented by the Serendipity Literary Agency.

Her debut novel, Invisible, a young adult paranormal romance, has been optioned for film. Invisible is an Amazon bestseller both domestically and internationally. Another of her novels, Nowhere to Run, tells the story of Lily Valier, a woman of substance and beauty, and her dilemma when she falls in love with a man whose mission it is to bring her down.

Currently, I’m finishing up work on Dark Angel, a paranormal thriller.

Jeanne is here to introduce us to her new novel Beautiful Monster. 

Beautiful Monster, The Exchange (Book 1)

Lev Baronovsky, a soulless creature of the night, has a problem. Carly, the love of his life has just died in an accident and in three days will pass to the other side. Without a soul, he cannot cross over with her and the thought of spending eternity without his beloved is unbearable. Is seventy-two hours enough time to find a way? With the help of his brother, Alexei, they must face the vilest creature of all, Boris, an ancient one with selfish motivations of his own.

Chapter One

Lev moved swiftly through the hallways, darting in and out and around what, to him, were slowly moving nurses and orderlies—those unfortunates working the midnight shift. Faster than any human eye was capable of detecting, he made it to Carly’s room in a flash. In fact, he made it there just in time, nostrils plucking the acrid scents from the air better than any dog’s.

He sat on the bed beside her in the dimly lit room and noticed, thankfully, she had no roommate. The bed beside Carly was recently vacated. The scent of death still lingered heavily and sadly.

Taking her delicate hand in his, Lev noticed a monitor clipped on an index finger. It seemed it measured her pulse and heartbeat. He noticed too that her heart was beating slowly, though he didn’t need a monitor for that. He heard its throb, and it made him think of a dying battery.

However, relief settled on him as he realized he was the first to arrive after the accident that had left her comatose. Carly’s family was nowhere near yet. It would take hours for them to get here from the other coast. He had time, plenty of it. Stealthily, Lev glanced into the hallway from his perch in the darkened hospital room. The occasional nurse strode past, but it was late, or perhaps the better term was early. In the wee hours of the morning, there would be fewer staff than during the day.

With a sigh, he took Carly in. Her blonde hair was matted and dirty, even though it looked as if someone had tried to clean her up, perhaps finger combing her thick mane and tucking it behind her head. Her face was still perfect. Not a single scratch had sullied her beauty.

A knot twisted in his belly. Why hadn’t he known? He could have saved her if only he’d known. But even Lev couldn’t know everything. It was his brother, Alexei, who’d given him the news moments ago.

“Brother,” he’d said, “there’s been an accident. Go now to the hospital or you’ll never see your precious Carly again.”

He hadn’t asked the how, the why, the when. Alexei had dropped his mental barriers. Lev felt them fall like a drawbridge. His brother had let him in. It was easier than speaking—

Lev was able to glean whatever information he needed in an instant. But with the simple facts of Carly’s accident came the realization his brother was happy for the turmoil.

A hint of a smile had curled Alexei’s full lips, and his eyes were bright. Lev was not surprised.

He pulled his thoughts from Alexei and looked down at his beloved’s hand in his. Thepallor of it matched his own. He listened to the slow rush of blood through her veins, willing it to grow stronger.

Moving close, he whispered, “I can save you.” He brought her dainty wrist to his lips.

She smelled like death already—like the musk of freshly turned earth. It was now or never. His fangs pricked at her delicate skin, drawing a bead of crimson. It tasted of iron and copper and of her. Carly’s very essence was in that droplet.

He stopped himself, knowing she wouldn’t want him to go through with it. They’d talked about it many times, about the possibility of him turning her, so they could be together, not for just the blink of an eye that was a human lifetime but for eternity. She would be furious if he turned her, and he wouldn’t blame her. Lev knew the pain and sorrow of being changed into a monster against one’s will.

But at least she would still exist. We could still be together. He shook off that small, but oh so inviting thought. No, he would not make a monster of her.

With a flick of his tongue, he licked the droplet away. A shudder of pleasure shot through him, and as he pushed her wrist to his mouth, like a child ready to bite into a ripe peach, the monitor blared a warning. He dropped her arm. Panic filled him. Carly’s pulse rose and fell suddenly. The stagnant tone of a heart that was no longer beating blared from the machine, stabbing sharply in his ears, but the growing silence of blood no longer pulsing through veins and arteries seemed louder. Hesitation had cost him. His compassion, as his brother would say, was his one true downfall.

Two nurses and a doctor were in the room now, buzzing frantically around Carly. Lev had disappeared through the pane of the window unseen and watched from outside where the moonless sky hid him. His jacket flapped in a breeze that also tousled his long black hair. It whipped and slapped against his cheeks.

It was said creatures like him could feel no pain. That they existed only as predators—takers of life—but Lev’s world had just crumbled. If he had a beating heart, it would be broken in two. Tears welled in his eyes, and he longed to let them fall. No, more than that, he wanted to scream, wanted to rip his cold dead heart from his chest and stomp on it.

Lev gathered himself as best he could, pinching the tears from his eyes and staring up to the heavens, but there would be no help for him there. For Lev Baranovsky, there was no God, only this perpetual hell he lived in. Love may come for him again in time, though he wasn’t sure he wanted it to. Would he ever get over losing his precious Carly? The vicious cycle of love and heartbreak was enough to drive him mad.

He should go now. Carly was gone. There was nothing he could do. Even though his brother would be at home, he needed the comfort of his own space to grieve.

He looked down at the ground two stories below, and when he peered back up for one last glimpse of his beloved, his brows lifted and his dark eyes grew to the size of poker chips.

Carly was dead, but she wasn’t gone.

Purchase your copy of Beautiful Monster on Amazon today!

Visit Jeanne Bannon and learn more about her stories at:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JeanneBannon
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4556168.Jeanne_Bannon
Facebook (Beautiful Monster): https://www.facebook.com/BeautifulMonsternovella
Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jeanne-Bannon/182120961844916
Website: http://jdn022.wix.com/jeannebannon

Biologizing in the Highlands of Costa Rica

Training for our upcoming hike into Corcovado National Park.

Last week I sent the completed manuscript for Daughter of Aithne to my editor Terri-Lynne DeFino. Now all I can do on that project is bite my nails as I wait for her verdict. Depending on the revisions she requests, we should be able to set a tentative release date in the coming weeks. I’ve been through some ups and downs with this manuscript, but I am happy with the final product, and anxious to share it with the world. Thank you, friends and fans of Eolyn, for your patience and support as we enter this final round of Eolyn’s journey.

Fortunately I have projects to keep me occupied while Terri goes through my third novel with a fine-toothed comb. I’m digging into the planned anthology for the Native American and Pacific Islander Research Experience (NAPIRE Program). We’re starting with a book proposal to outline our objectives and establish a tentative list of chapters and contributors. The volume will be divided into two parts. Part One will focus on the interface between science and culture, with an emphasis on pedagogical approaches that support multi-cultural academic experiences. Part Two will document scientific contributions of former NAPIRE students and mentors. It’s all very much in the idea stage, but hopefully in the coming weeks and months our ideas will start to become reality.  I will certainly keep you posted moving forward.

I also have a couple of exciting field trips planned. This weekend, I will accompany a group of students from the School for Environmental Studies to the Monteverde Cloud Forest Reserve. This is an extraordinarily beautiful area of Costa Rica, home to the sacred bird of the Mayas, the Resplendent Quetzal. I have not returned to Monteverde for a very long time, so I am really looking forward to this trip. I’m also looking forward to hanging out with students in the field again. Believe it or not, I miss my students! Though I am very grateful for this break, it’s odd not to be teaching and interacting with students this semester. It’ll be fun to have that opportunity again, for a few days and in a beautiful setting.

In other good news, it’s looking very likely that we will celebrate my birthday this year with a return to Corcovado National Park. Corcovado is home to the most spectacular lowland rain forest in Central America, and by some accounts, in all of the Americas. It is only accessible by hiking. We will spend about three days traversing the park, from its western entrance at Los Patos, through the heart of the reserve in Sirena, and exiting along the beach through La Leona.

In short, lots of adventures along the way.  And you’ll be hearing about them all right here.

Stay tuned early next week for a visit from author Jeanne Bannon, who is releasing a new book Beautiful Monster. Honestly, who can resist a novel with that title?

Also, remember that The Masquerade Crew is giving away free copies of the audio edition of High Maga, narrated by the incomparable Darla Middlebrook. Visit the Masquerade Crew to enter to win. Good luck!