R.L. Naquin's Blog, page 14

Confabulator Flash

It’s Flash Fiction Week again over at the Confabulator Cafe.

This time around, everyone had to use the same first sentence — “I think I got everyone” — and the same last sentence — “This is better than anything.” And it had to be 1000 words or less.

It was a challenge, but we’ve pulled it off.

Come have a look at what we made for you. My story, Escalating Heaven, is up today. There are some great stories already posted over the last few days, and several more coming over the rest of the week. If you haven’t been over there yet, wander on over and take a look.

See you real soon!

The History of Monsters

The first story is told.

From the beginnings of humanity, gathered around the first man-made fires in the mouths of caves, humans told stories. They were stories meant to explain the unexplainable, to make sense of the world.

But there was also a spark of creativity that came with these stories. That spark, fed by fear, wonder and the warmth of fire, drifted out from the campsites and floated on the wind.

The sparks landed out in the wild and waited. The more the stories were told and passed from generation to generation, the greater the strength of those sparks. Until one day, the first spark of story flashed and took form.

One by one, as humanity grew and evolved, the sparks took on flesh and bone and scale and fur.

Frightening monsters appeared to early man, further nurturing the stories that were told, and the all-important belief that followed the tales gave the creatures strength.

Bigfoot, Sasquatch, and the Abominable Snowman were among the first to appear, since they closely resembled the storytellers, only bigger, hairier, and more primal. Serpents of enormous girth roamed the woods and the lakes. Birds the size of mammoths darkened the sky.

In those early days, nearly everything was based on something familiar, but exaggerated in size and ferocity.

History moved forward, and humanity moved with it, building structures, learning agriculture, going to war, and creating cities. One thing remained the same, no matter how far humans advanced. There were always storytellers.

Fairies and closet monsters, angels and demons, chimera and gremlins. Together, we created them all. They live because our ancestors believed.

Once life takes form from words, it’s no longer under the control of the teller. Autonomous life goes out and feeds, reproduces, and evolves in the same way that man does. Monsters are not ours to control, nor can we wish them away.

We provided the sparks and fed them with our emotions, but what came of them are monsters quite separate from us. They have their own rules, and they answer to their own authority.

In a way, we could claim to have created the monsters. But really, all we did was plant the seeds. What exists in the shadows and hidden places now is not necessarily what was originally imagined. Monsters grow and change, and each individual has his or her own personality.

Nature uses whatever is available to populate itself. Humanity is merely another tool, like pollination or photosynthesis.

The giant sloth.

It’s quite possible that somewhere in the prehistoric past, a giant ground sloth, in its slow-dreaming amble, thought up a fierce, nearly-hairless creature that ate meat, ran on two legs, and could climb trees.

And the spark landed and took on flesh.

And the giant sloth didn’t name us anything. Because, seriously, sloths can’t talk, no matter how big they are.

Back Cover Copy!

Somebody else doing a cartwheel. Because I would look completely ridiculous.

Gears are still turning, and forward momentum carries on behind the scenes, even if I don’t know about it right away.

Still no cover yet, but it should be here soon. Yeah. I know. I’ve been saying that for a month. I like to think they’re taking extra-special care with it so it’ll be just right.

In the meantime, I got a shiny ISBN number, so now it’s a real book, like when you get the permanent plates for a new car. It’s registered. It’s real. If I weren’t afraid of breaking a hip, I’d do a little cartwheel for you. With my shiny ISBN number came the official back cover copy. You know when you pick up a book and read the description on the back? That. I have that.

Cover or not, my book is real, now. And because it’s all official and final, I’ve got the green light to share it with you. Let me know what you think:

Monster in My Closet

I stopped believing in monsters long ago. But I knew I wasn’t imagining things when I found one in my kitchen baking muffins. I’d seen him before: lurking in my closet, scaring the crap out of my five-year-old self. Turns out that was a misunderstanding, and now Maurice needs a place to stay. How could I say no?

After all, I’ve always been a magnet for the emotionally needy, and not just in my work as a wedding planner. Being able to sense the feelings of others can be a major pain. Don’t get me wrong, I like helping people—and non-people. But this ability has turned me into a gourmet feast for an incubus, a demon that feeds off emotional energy. Now, brides are dropping dead all over town, and my home has become a safe house for the supernatural. I must learn to focus my powers and defeat the demon before he snacks on another innocent woman and comes looking for the main course…

I’m still not sure about it being in first person, but I have to trust that the marketing people know what they’re doing. I’m not a marketer, and the first-person blurbs seem to be the trend right now. It’s kind of a weird feeling to read it. It’s my book. I recognize it. I even recognize some of the words and pieces of sentences. But I didn’t write this. Someone else wrote the description for my book.

And that’s all kinds of cool.

Avoidance at the Cafe

It’s time for a little something over at the Confabulator Cafe.

This week, we’re talking about the obstacles and distractions we face as writers. Home, work, family, shiny things, television, the Internet–they all get in the way if we let them. I take you briefly through an average day, explaining why my progress bar moves so slowly, and also why I don’t ask you over for coffee. My house is in no condition for guests.

Of course, you’re still welcome. But you should probably bring extra trash bags and cleaning supplies if you do.

Come see us over at the Cafe. My post is there, Writer’s Obstacle Course. Everybody else seems to have good solid advice on how to avoid such nonsense, so once you see what’s wrong with me, you might want to check out their posts to see how to do it right.

See you on Friday!

Distracted by Possibilities

Anything could be in there. (You can buy a print of this here: http://www.lonelyplanetimages.com/sea...)

Yesterday, Mr. Miracle and I went to see Disneynature’s new movie, Chimpanzee. (Happy Earth Day!) Since their first Earth Day release, Earth, we’ve made it a tradition to go on the holiday to see what new thing Disney made for us.

We enjoyed it very much, though it wasn’t quite the story we thought we’d figured out from the previews. The footage was breathtaking, and Oscar the baby chimp was adorable.

But this isn’t a movie review. This is a peek into how my brain works.

I was immersed in the story they presented of this lovely family of chimps in an African rainforest. Until the camera pulled back. Then they lost me.

So much green! Mist draped across the tops of the trees. Incredible waterfalls rushed down the cliffs. The canopy covered the forest floor so completely, it looked as though we could walk across the top and never fall through.

I chewed absently on the Twizzler my husband stuffed into my hand, and wondered.

What’s under there that doesn’t want us to know about it? Who lives under all that green? What walks silently behind the camera men, unseen and stealthy, watching us trying to watch them?

Three waterfalls ran side-by-side. Were there three sisters, perhaps naiads, who regulated the currents? Would they show up on camera if we caught them bathing?

The rainforests on our planet are even more mysterious and magical to me than the ocean. (Though I shouldn’t get started on what I think might be swimming around in all that watery vastness.)

Are there leftover dinosaurs in the rain forest? Birds that glow in the dark? Fish that swim in the thick, humid air? Is there a type of beetle that holds society parties to marry off their daughters? Is there a tribe of African Bigfoot that chimps worship as gods?

We don’t know what’s going on in there. We only know what the cameras catch in their brief time in the few spots on which they focus. Scientists know we’ve only begun to catalog the life teeming beneath the canopy. One of my very favorite animals, the okapi, was discovered less than 100 years ago.

There’ so much going on in there, what we don’t know greatly outnumbers what we do know.

Anything is possible.

And that’s the way I like it.

The Romantic Outsider

Today I’m over at Here Be Magic, the group blog for Carina Press fantasy writers.

I’m talking about being a non-romance writer in a world heavily invested in romance. Carina Press is awesome, and they’re so welcoming to other genres. In fact, they’re working hard to build up their list of sci-fi, fantasy, steampunk, and paranormal over there.

Still, it’s the early days, and those of us who don’t write romance are in the minority. It’s expected, though. After all, Carina is an imprint of Harlequin. Romance is their thing.

Come see what I have to say about it in my post Slower Than the Speed of Love.

On Monday, I’ll be back here, talking your ear off about…something.

See you real soon!

Word Thievery at the Cafe

Sorry for the delay on today’s post. The website was being tweaked, so I couldn’t get into it.

First up, a little news. Monster in My Closet has been picked up by Audible.com! This is full of coolness. My book will be available in audio format. No news on a release date yet, but it’ll probably be sometime close to the July 30 digital release.

Second, it’s Wednesday, so I’m over at the Confabulator Cafe talking about how real life sneaks into my fiction. I pillage from my surroundings, and I’m not ashamed to admit it in Writers Are Thieves.

Head on over, grab a comfy chair, and see what we all have to say. As it turns out, not everybody’s letting their private lives loose in their stories.

Monster Etiquette

Monsters and other supernatural creatures have feelings, too. Yet, we often overlook that fact. I blame movies, mostly. All the screaming and running and bloodshed–it’s given us a bad impression.

We seem to think we don’t have to be polite.

If you find yourself in a situation where there’s someone who’s not human living in your home, hanging out in your garage, or watching you from behind a tree, there are a few useful tips to avoid being rude and keep the situation from being uncomfortable for both parties.

1. Unless you’re genuinely startled, don’t scream. Yes, the creature may look different from anything you’ve previously seen, but there’s no reason to point this out with an ear-splitting objection. Not only will it hurt the creature’s feelings, it will also draw attention to your inexperience and lack of manners. If the scream is involuntary because you were startled, apologize immediately.

2. If you’re fortunate enough to see or speak with a monster, urban legend, or mythical creature, keep it to yourself. These creatures (The Hidden) can get into a lot of trouble with the Board of Hidden Affairs if humans interact with them. Posting “just saw Bigfoot sunbathing in my backyard” as  your Facebook status would put that particular Bigfoot in hot water, and subsequently cause no end of difficulties for every Bigfoot within a 100-mile radius of your location.

3. Understand that your home is not being invaded. The Hidden go to a lot of trouble to keep from being noticed, and they dwell exclusively in the unused spaces of your house. You’re not using the crawl space in your attic to live, nor are you using the areas under your bed, behind the cupboards, or in the guest closet. Sure, you might put things there, but the Hidden take pains not to disturb your stuff. Don’t begrudge them a place to live when you’re not using it for the same purpose. It’s not like they can build a housing development.

4. Offer them something to drink, or perhaps a snack. If you’ve come across a strange creature, odds are excellent they’re as nervous and uncomfortable as you are. A glass of iced tea and a plate of cookies can go a long way in making both of you feel comfortable.

5. Don’t ask for favors. You wouldn’t ask a farmer you just met to give you free eggs and asparagus. Don’t do it with the Hidden. Djinn don’t hand out wishes at the drop of a hat. Brownies don’t make magic shoes and handbags every day. And leprechauns and pygmy dragons wouldn’t have any gold left if they gave it to every person who asked.

The important thing to remember is that the Hidden are people. Treat them as you would any stranger, and if you’re very lucky, you might make a friend.

Learning to Confabulate

Yeah. It feels like this. But it beats the hell out of having nothing to do.

 

I apologize for missing my Monday post. I was hard at work at the sort-of-secret side project. It's coming along nicely, and I hope to have it finished by the end of the week. Stay tuned!

This week at the Confabulator Cafe, we're talking about what we've learned from other writers. I dabble in bullshit, but ultimately answer the question. You can read it here: I Smell a Learning Experience.

There's excellent advice to be had from the other Confabulators, and they don't dance around it as much as I do, so don't forget to check them out.

I'm now two posts behind on Confabulator stuff, have a Here be Magic post coming up in a week or two, a secret(ish) project to finish, and I still have to get started on Zoey 3.0. Please bear with me if my posts here are a little less regular than they should be. I'm getting there.

See you real soon!

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Writers Are Bendy

He once was a little green ball of clay...Gumby!

Sometimes one of the most important things about being a writer is the ability to be flexible. Things come up, and you've got to roll with them.

I haven't abandoned book 3. My white board is covered in index cards and brightly colored magnets. It's propped up against a wall in the living room, and I glance at it whenever I walk past. Sometimes I adjust something, move a card around to a new location. It's thinking.

But the progress bar isn't going to move yet. I have something else I need to do first. It's exciting, and it's kind of a secret. It's a small project I need to take care of before diving into the new novel.

I still haven't learned to multitask yet. I can only write one thing at a time. In another few weeks, it'll be flash fiction time over at the Confabulator Cafe, so I'll have to drop whatever I'm doing and write that. It'll be a learning experience. Up to this point, I've tackled one project at a time. I've never stopped in the middle of a WIP to write something completely different, then gone right back to it.

This is a skill I really need to learn.

But now is not the time for that. Now is the time for working in secret, hunched over and cackling. Then I'll start working on the big project. Okay, I'll be honest. It doesn't much matter what I'm doing, I'm probably hunched over and cackling while I do it. Except for house work. For that, I'm hunched over and scowling.

I should really work on my posture.

See you real soon!

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