R.L. Naquin's Blog, page 15

News! Editing! Confabulation!

Part of yesterday's work.

I told you Monday I had news coming, and last night I got the word that it was okay to share it. Ready? Brace yourselves.

Pooka in My Pantry has been acquired by Carina Press! Woohoo! I haven't heard yet when it'll be released, but I suspect early 2013, maybe January or February. I'm pretty sure they're keeping the title on this one, too.

We've got a list of series titles, and soon we'll hear back on which one they chose. Also, any time now I should be getting my first glimpse of the cover for Monster in My Closet.

Things are happening. This is really happening.

And yeah, I know the progress bar on book three hasn't moved yet. Turns out I was a little premature. The story isn't quite ready to get started yet. Still playing with index cards and magnets and my giant white board. Once I start, though, I should hit the ground running.

In the meantime, it's Wednesday, so I'm over at the Confabulator Cafe. This week we're sharing our editing secrets. In my case, it's really no secret that I'm a little touched in the head when it comes to planning things out. But I have pictures!

How to Self-Edit: For Non-Pansters is up there now. And don't forget to take a look at what the other Confabulators are saying in their posts. Apparently, I'm the only one who's completely nuts.

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Polar Bear Poop Ends, a New Book Begins

What the hell is that?

Yesterday was my seventh anniversary with Mr. Miracle. To celebrate, we went out for a nice brunch, which included mimosas and concluded with a "happy anniversary" dessert from the wonderful people at our favorite restaurant, Marisco's.

From there, we went to the zoo. That might sound like a strange place to celebrate an anniversary, but it's where he proposed to me. There was an odd theme going while we were there. We stopped for our favorite animals, and when they pooped, we moved on. No, it wasn't intentional. It was just how things worked out.

I found out how bad I suck as a photographer while we were there. My daughter is in love with Nikita the polar bear and asked that we say "hi" for her and take some pictures. As you can see above, my attempts were kind of pitiful. Despite Nikita's habit of swimming the same pattern over and over, I still couldn't get a decent picture. Pathetic. Of course, when Nikita stopped running the pattern, it was because she'd paused to poop. We moved on.

After the zoo, we went to Orange Leaf, which is a build-your-own frozen yogurt place. My favorite is the pineapple flavor, because it reminds me of a Dole Whip from Disneyland. The whole day was filled with experiences that were "almost Disney." We're both a little homesick and needed a Disney fix.

We topped it all off by seeing Mirror, Mirror, then went home and watched Once Upon a Time. Still with the "almost Disney" theme.

Anyway, it was a wonderful day, and today I am sunburned, tired, and sore enough to realize winter is over and my dormant body has atrophied. Time to get back to the gym and make these muscles functional again.

And today begins book three of the Zoey series. I've got a word count widget up for you, so if you don't see progress being made, call me on it. I have to get this done in the next two months. I'm on a schedule, folks, and this will be my first real attempt without it being a NaNoWriMo endeavor.

News is coming soon! In the meantime, the countdown until Monster in My Closet launches is now at four months. I think from here on out I'll wear my hair up. That way nobody has to follow me into the bathroom to hold it back for me.

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Confabulator Flash

What do unemployment, Vietnam, mermaids, nano technology, and moldy cheese all have in common?

They're all in short stories over at the Confabulator Cafe this week. And that's only the first five. I have no idea what's in the stories for the rest of the week.

We had very specific instructions (involving our initials, birthdays, and a virgin sacrifice) in order to find the photo on Flickr commons we were to use as inspiration for our stories. And we had 1000 words or less.

So, wander on over to the Cafe, have a seat, and see what we've cooked up for you this week. So far, I think the stories are impressive, especially given the crazy, not-so-inspiring pictures some of the confabulators were given.

You can start with mine if you like. Voices on the Wind.

Enjoy!

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Just the Facts: Monsters and Other Creatures

This has nothing to do with the post. I just wanted to share what happened yesterday. We slept in. The cats weren't happy with us, so they pea-ed on the floor. Rather than get angry and clean it up right away, I took a picture.

In my books, there's very little difference between humans and monsters. Obviously, they don't look like us, of course. A few can pass as human, like leprechauns and incubi, but there's still something a little "off" even with them.

For those who can't pass as human, they have to remain out of sight. The Board of Hidden Affairs requires it. It's the law. Gremlins and fairies and closet monsters and skunk apes–all spend their lives hidden away.

That's why they're called The Hidden, of course.

But when you get to know them, they're not so strange. They have the same problems. They have their own personality quirks and disorders. They experience love and loss, marriage and divorce, joy and sorrow.

They can be kind and thoughtful like Maurice, the closet monster, and Molly, the brownie. They can be irritating and rude, like Silas, the pooka. They can be thugs, like the Leprechaun Mafia, or psychotic killers, like Sebastian, the incubus.

In other words, they're just like us.

Because of the restrictions placed by the Board of Hidden Affairs, specifically the Division of Human/Hidden Interaction, humans don't know much about the creatures of the Hidden. At the risk of the Board's displeasure, I'd like to remedy that.

Each weekday, I'm going to share a fun fact about a particular Hidden creature. No, not here. Over on Twitter. If you're not following me there yet, I'm @rlnaquin.

Every month or so, I'll probably gather the facts together and post them here as a list. That way those of you who aren't on Twitter won't find yourself woefully uninformed about sea monsters and mothmen.

If you have a burning question about the home life of chupacabras, yearn to know how pygmy dragons find a mate, or ever wondered why skunk-apes smell so bad, feel free to shoot me an email or leave a comment.

Next time you're alone in the dark and hear a rustling in your walls, won't it be less frightening if you have a little knowledge about the creature living there and watching you? If you know he's allergic to cabbage, or that he prefers '80s ballads to hip-hop, won't that make him more like a roommate than a threat?

I'm here to help.

You're welcome.

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My Self-Promotion Hat Is Too Tight

These things. Cedar shoe trees. Spend $10 more and your $20 leather shoes will last much longer. They absorb the moisture (insert demonstrative hand gesture) from your feet, which keeps the leather from cracking. Yeah. Seriously. It's been 25 years and I still remember the spiel.

I've had a lot of jobs throughout my life, and a good many of them had some aspect of sales to them.

This is a thing I really hate.

As a teenager, I worked in a shoe store in the mall. It wasn't enough to smile and be charming, help people find what they needed. No. Once I'd made them thoroughly happy with their choices, I gathered up the boxes to escort the customers to the register, then had to attempt to sell them extras: socks, shoe polish, extra laces, and the grand prize for good salesmanship, a $10 cedar shoe tree to help the shape and leather of their $20 pair of shoes last longer. A  certain percentage of my sales had to come from these extras. I detested this part.

Twenty years ago, I worked at the Disney Catalog call center. Eventually, I managed to get a position answering the mail, but until then, I took orders and customer service calls. Not a problem, until management decided once the customer gave us the items to order, we had to choose another item from a short list we were given and offer it to the customer as well.

I hated that part. They already knew what they wanted to buy. Why would my suggestion cause them to add something to the list they called me with?

Here's the thing–are you ready for the thing? In both those cases, I spent quite a bit of time with the customers, helping them make decisions, chatting with them about their lives, establishing a rapport. Then WHAM! I had to become a sales person and try to convince them they needed something we both knew they didn't need.

Everything changed. I went from helpful friend to unwanted salesman. It always felt as if I were betraying a trust and that I'd lured them in under false pretenses. I think, for the most part, they understood I was being forced to do that part. Some even joked about it with me. Still, the relationship I'd established was no longer the same.

With my first novel coming out in July, Mr. Miracle and I are working on a big marketing push. So, here I am, doing the thing I've always wanted to do (publishing novels), but in order to continue doing it, I also have to do the thing I absolutely hate most (selling).

Because if people haven't heard about my books, how can they buy them? And if nobody buys them, then I'll have to go back to selling shoes, because the Disney Catalog doesn't exist anymore.

I have to be very careful not to sound pushy or desperate, because it'll feel like I've betrayed the trust of my Twitter, blog, and Facebook followers. I know this feeling has more to do with my distaste for sales. I'll just have to get over it.

Soon, I'll be putting on my shameless-self-promotion hat, and if it's a little tight, I'll try not to fuss with it. It's part of the job.

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Debate at the Cafe

This week over at the Confabulator Cafe, we've taken on a favorite debate of authors everywhere: Which is more important–character or plot?

I'm hoping by the end of the week there will be hair pulling, lightsaber battles, and possibly a pie fight or two. Mmmm. Pie.

Come on over and take a look at what everyone is saying. Watch me start out wishy-washy and change my mind by the end of the post.

Go here! Character vs. Plot: The Chicken or the Egg?

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Progress Report

There's a great big beautiful tomorrow, shining at the end of every day! There's a great big beautiful tomorrow, and tomorrow is just a dream away!

I wanted to report that book two, Pooka in My Pantry is finished with revisions and off my plate. I wanted to report that. Alas, it would be a lie. And this is not the place for lies, is it?

I'm close though. Structural stuff is done, so it's cleanup that's left. I sent my editor the first fifty pages and the synopsis over a week ago. Unfortunately, there's a misspelled word in the very first sentence. That sucks. That really sucks.

Let my mistakes guide you, folks: Don't be too quick to send things out. You're likely to humiliate yourself and will feel the need to jump off the roof of your house into a pit filled with double-edged razor blades and lemon juice.

Because, you know, writers are overly dramatic like that.

In the meantime, I've done a terrible job of keeping up with this blog. Apparently, I can blog just fine when I'm writing a new book, but during editing periods, my blogging brain shuts down and I whine like a little baby.

So, this is my check-in with you lovely, loyal people so you know I haven't died of the consumption. (*Cough.* "It's nothing.") If I work very hard, I should be able to finish these edits today and send PiMP (is that not the best acronym for a book ever?) out so I can begin work on book three.

Once book three is outlined a bit (how can I be expected to do anything without my beloved index cards and whiteboard?), I'll probably throw a wordcount widget up here so you can keep track of my progress and write me hateful emails when I'm clearly messing around and not making progress.

Onward in the name of progress!

See you real soon.

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