A.J. Race's Blog, page 30

A Taste of Carnage

While I attempt to figure out what I want to make my next blogpost (as the one I’ve been attempting to write has been fighting me for a few days now, I’d like to offer you a sneak preview of the first chapter of Goddess of Carnage.

Chapter One:

Madam Schemptra’s Plan

he American President sat in his hotel room brooding, for several hours, as he tried to go over the next day’s schedule. He was a tall, nicely fit man with light brown hair speckled with bits of grey around his temples. He refused to dye it, grey had become a symbol of the presidency, and every president he could remember had aged nearly fifteen years in the span of his presidency, regardless of tenure. The price for being the leader of the free world was aging twice as fast in half the time. For a wartime President it was expected he would age four times as fast, so the fact that he’d managed to keep the grey just to his temples and light flecks around his closely cropped hair, that he’d kept smartly parted to his right side, was lucky. His once bright blue eyes had faded into a dull bluish-grey, flickered over his schedule for the fifth time in as many minutes. He was not particularly looking forward to the United Universe Council meeting that had been scheduled at six the next morning.  He had known about the meeting for months, but he still didn’t like it. He particularly did not like the news that Christopher would be returning as King of the Witches. After all the trouble he’d caused!, he thought, furious. It was outrageous that they would allow him to keep his job after he’d been such an obvious failure from the beginning. Even if he had only been in power five months before his ‘supposed’ death.  

It was a disgrace. Had any mortal politician ever dared to pull even half of what Christopher had they would have found themselves thrown out of office within a week. As it was, the President was already particularly distrustful of the monarchy. He had seen the trouble they had caused even as far back as his Congressional days, when he was but a mere Senator. Back then, dealings with the U.U.C. were kept hidden from state politicians, but recent events and the talk of states seceding from the Union had made it unwise and nearly impossible to keep anyone out of the loop any longer. It had become imperative for all forms of government, both large and small to be informed of everything, which invariably meant including the United States Congress and the United Kingdom’s Parliament into the discussion.

The already overcrowded Carpathea Hall seemed even more claustrophobic with the addition of several hundred extra bodies suddenly crammed into the room, even in spite of several spells intended to free up the space in the hall over the recent months. None of this would have even been necessary had it not been for the witches!, he thought, furious. They were the reason his country was up in arms now, the reason the world over was facing a meltdown. It all came back to the witches, and more specifically, their monarchy. The very idea they’d let a homosexual become King made his pulse quicken.It was unnatural and immoral. The Bible was very clear on this issue. Though, the Bible was clear on witchcraft as well, a fact somehow his predecessors had ignored for the past two centuries. That their arrival had been met so widely with celebration rather than horror and outrage seemed unfathomable to the President. It was one thing to live in fear of witchcraft, but it was quite another to accept them so blindly.  Of course, it had not hurt the witches cause any that the Queen at the time, Julietta IV, had been held back in her rage over the murder of her daughter only by her sister Carpathea, and to the people of New England, it seemed unwise to anger an already unhinged and quite powerful witch.

Something would have to be done, he decided. Christopher could not remain King, not if he could help it anyway.

A low, elegant voice spoke from the other side of the Oval Office: “I think I can help you there.” The President looked up towards the dimly lit side of his office nervously. He had not heard the door open or shut, nor had his Secret Service informed him of the woman’s arrival. Clearly a witch. A tall woman with fiery red hair stepped out of the shadows, adorned in a long black dress that pooled at her feet like black lava and tall stiletto heels that made her tower over the President.

He swallowed hard, staring up at her.“Who are you?” he demanded, trying to sound braver than he felt.“And what are you doing in my office?”

“I am a friend… and I’ve come to help,” she replied. Her silky voice held a dark edge that made the President shiver, like ice cutting through his veins. In a different circumstance, she might have made a powerful politician, he noted.

“A lovely thought; however, I am afraid I have no interest in mortal politics,” she grinned.

The President’s eyes widened. “Now, wait just a minute. What gives you the right to invade my thoughts like that?” he demanded, finding his rage at last.

At this, she laughed. “Oh, Daniel… I don’t believe you have the power to stop me.” She grinned viciously. “Now then, shall we sit?” She moved over to his desk, pulled out his chair, and sat, crossing her legs at the ankles. “I trust there is no need for introductions. I already know who you are, and I suspect, you already know who I am…” The President watched the woman across from him carefully, but didn’t respond. Everyone knew Madam Schemptra, the question was, why was she here? As if reading his thoughts again she continued, “I’m here to help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“Getting rid of Christopher, of course, and getting the witches and mortals separated again,” she replied, with a sickeningly sweet smile. There was something about her, that the President couldn’t quite put his finger on. Perhaps it was the way she carried herself, perhaps it was the perfectly lady-like manner in which she sat that gave her the look of some of the first ladies of the 1940’s, but something about her intrigued him. Instantly, he felt as though he could trust her with anything. No doubt some sort of spell, his mind cut in. He had been in politics long enough to know never to trust anyone. Especially not a witch as notorious as Madam Schemptra.

“Why would you want to help me with either of those things?” he asked. If the stories he had heard about her were to be believed, Madam Schemptra was a cold-blooded killer who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. So why did she want to help him? He doubted there was anything he could offer her, even if he didn’t like witches he was smart enough to know that Madam Schemptra was powerful enough that there was nothing she couldn’t do herself if she really wanted to.

“Let’s just say I have a personal stake in all of this,” she replied. It was not at all the answer the President had been expecting.

“What? Did the kid kill your best friend or something?”

“It is, a bit more complicated than that,”she replied. The President raised an eyebrow at that,  but decided that perhaps it was better he didn’t know. “I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say I am on your side.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Do you honestly believe everything you hear about me? I am not quite as evil as they say.”

“You certainly don’t look it,” he grinned. She could already sense where this was headed, and it was all she could do not to gag.

She forced a smile as she stood, slowly sauntering her way over to him, and grinned. “Oh, don’t misunderstand, Mr. President… I am quite…wicked,” she whispered, in a voice she intended to be seductive. The President frowned, apparently deep in thought, then grinned again. Her skin crawled at the lust-filled look in his eyes, but if he noticed her discomfort he didn’t acknowledge it.

“You know I’m a married man.” Madam Schemptra tried not to snort; something told her that had never stopped him before. She leaned down, making sure  that her cleavage was in front of his face, and then whispered, “She doesn’t have to know.” That was all the prodding the President needed as he pulled Madam Schemptra down into his lap and kissed her hard. She dug her nails into her palms in an effort not to bite his tongue off as it prodded her mouth. Gods how she hated men, she thought, especially lecherous politicians. She might have known better than to try to seduce him for her own gain. Before she realized what was happening, the President slipped his hand up her skirt; her eyes widened. Shit! She pulled back fast, whispering something that the President couldn’t understand. He blinked, and within seconds he was unconscious. She pulled herself off  of the man, thoroughly disgusted. Her stomach roiled, and before she could stop herself she bent over into his trashcan and vomited. With some difficulty, she managed to stand, on shaky legs, and surveyed the room for any signs of life before casting the spell to alter the President’s memory. In a few hours, he would awaken with the memory that he had just had sex in his office. Swine. She thought as her stomach lurched again. But before she could throw up a second time, she turned on her heel and vanished in a swirl of black silk back, into the darkness.

***

It was nearing September by the time the Palace was finally finished being reconstructed, and Chris and Eric were allowed to return. Eric was not particularly looking forward to going back to the Palace, but then after nearly five months in the hospital, he had to admit that it would be nice to be sleeping in his own bed again. Besides, after the Palace had been struck down by Madam Schemptra last year he’d hoped that the forced reconstruction would mean that the Palace would have to be much nicer this time around. To Eric’s dismay however the Palace had appeared just as dismal as ever.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” Eric growled the moment he stepped through the large Mahogany doors to their room. Eric turned towards Chris, horrified. “Nothing’s changed! This place went through a fucking tornado and NOTHING’S CHANGED! They even managed to put the cobwebs back in the ceiling!” he growled glaring up at the vaulted ceilings still covered with the same dust and cobwebs it had before the tornado. He fell onto the bed with a groan. How the hell was it possible that this place seemed almost worse off than before the tornado? He shook his head in disbelief, squeezing his eyes shut. This has to be a nightmare, he convinced himself. He squinted one eye open, sure that he would awaken to find himself in a much better version of the Palace, but as the same tired, dusty ceiling came into focus he realized that it had not in fact been a dream. Shit. 

“Are you sorry we came back?” Chris asked plopping down onto the bed next to him. Eric thought carefully before answering.

“You still have a job to do. I understand that,” he replied deftly deflecting the question.

“You’d think all these months with Renee would have helped you with your honesty issues.”

“You’d think,” Eric retorted. The truth was…complicated, and more often than not, Eric barely knew what it was himself. Besides, Chris did have a job to do. He hadn’t officially been asked, but given the current deteriorating climate of the world over, and the fact that Ciprianna was dead—a fact still kept from the mortals—it was difficult to think anyone else could possibly take over the throne now. Unless the U.U.C. suddenly declared Faerian Law and the WARLOCKguards were put in control of government, in which case it didn’t really matter what anyone thought. It was, highly unlikely they would ever consider such drastic measures, but Eric couldn’t help but wonder when the questions would pour in regarding the whereabouts of Madam Schemptra and just how she’d managed to escape. It was no secret that Madam Schemptra was on the loose, in spite of the Council’s better efforts to contain the press her escape had received. Thus far Christopher had managed to elude media scrutiny on this particular issue, but it was only a matter of time before it would all blow up into an international issue––and Chris would no doubt be indicated as the cause for all of it––especially if Madam Schemptra decided to try something.

Chris sighed; Eric’s sarcasm denoted he was in no mood to discuss his therapy, and although he had never denied that talking with Dr. Brown-King had helped, the process had dredged up dark memories that Eric would have just as soon preferred not to unearth.

“Just tell me the truth Eric, are you sorry we came back?”

“Maybe a little. I just don’t understand why we have to live in the Palace just because you’re the King. You’re a warlock, for goddess sake! Surely we could live anywhere and you’d still be able to do the job.” Eric had a point, technically they could live anywhere they wanted. It wasn’t as though living at the Palace had made him any more or less on time for any of his Council meetings. Nor had it made him any more equipped to be King in the first place; it was tradition. Nothing more.

“Would you feel better if we moved back to New York?” Chris asked, as he stared nose to nose with the other boy. Eric’s face brightened instantly.

“You mean it?” Eric asked, practically bouncing with excitement.

Christopher laughed, “Of course, love. I’d hate for you to be in a place that makes you unhappy.” Eric smiled and kissed the other man.

“I guess that’s a yes then,” Chris said as Eric crawled on top of him, tearing his shirt open, sending buttons flying in all directions. Christopher’s eyes widened. Eric set the pace, and as usual, Chris knew it would be fast and rough, not that he was by any means complaining. It was oddly sexy when Eric took over like this; it tended, however, to end in multiple bruises that no spell could hide, even if he did want too. It was then, just as Eric bent down and latched onto his throat, that he remembered his U.U.C. meeting scheduled for early the next morning. He’d been tasked with the job of discussing something or other, though for the life of him he couldn’t remember what. I really should be preparing, he thought, not at all moving to push Eric off of him. Eric swirled his tongue around the spot where he’d just bit him, eliciting a loud guttural moan from the other man. Fuck it! He twirled them over pinning Eric down by the wrists, deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine. Eric’s eyes darkened with lust, as Chris’s tongue darted slowly over his collar bone.  He continued his ministrations down Eric’s body causing the other boy to writhe with pleasure. Always better than actual work,Chris thought tearing off Eric’s pants in one quick motion.

Behind the Photography

uring my second quarter at AI, I decided to take the one required photography class for my graphic design program. At the time I wasn’t really sure what to make of it, I was excited because I had always loved taking pictures, but believe me, eleven weeks is not even remotely enough time to learn the intricacies of great photography, and as most of my graphic design teachers recommend that we shoot our own photos to avoid any kind of copyright mishap, it’s unfortunate that we’re only required to take the one. That said, it remains to this day one of my favorite classes I’ve taken thus far. The final project, which would be a culmination of photos taken throughout the quarter was, I believe, a set of 20-50 photos that represented us. Some people took photos of cars, or fashion, but me? I took photos of my writing. Stacks of it, from over the years. Piles of information, mostly, one would presume, Secrets of Witches since it’s been my longest project to date and continues to rack up the most amount of pages in my life, hardcopy or otherwise, but it also included a few choice photos of my laptop, and one of my desk with a random smattering of papers.

For a long time after I never knew what would become of the photos, they merely sat on my external harddrive, collecting digital dust as it were, and then, nearly two years ago sometime in mid-February perhaps March, I found the photos again, while attempting to clean out the harddrive. They were even more beautiful than I’d remembered and I knew that I had to do something with them, particularly in a design sense. It started, with the quotes series. Older readers, who have been around the site a while would remember those, while some of my newer followers probably wouldn’t, as I sort of stopped making them in spite of the fact that I continue to have plenty of quote inspiration to draw from. I still collect my favorite quotes, that maybe again I”ll start using for the quote-a-day series.

So, for those curious as to why I continue to use these graphics for each blog post, and my page headers, you must understand the story behind them, how each photo represents myself in a different way, and the design aesthetic as a whole represents what I love in design, and to a larger extent, myself as a designer.

You Can’t Sell Happiness

Happy New Years Racers!

To start of 2013, I decided to start with a post that is partly about design, but with a larger point about sales.

We all know the old saying… You can’t buy happiness. But actually I think the correct saying should be: You can’t sell happiness. It’s not really fiscally responsible. I mean think about it. Apple comes out with a new phone every year (like clockwork). 4/4s/5. People have barely had a chance to enjoy their new phone when a new NEW one comes out. That is the challenge of capitalism, particularly in todays world of now, now, now.

It’s also, for better or worse, fallen into the publishing industry, making it nearly impossible for writers to put out anything less than one book each year, and two books if entirely possible. We are a country that wants as much as you can give us, as fast as you can give it to us. (I’m speaking as an American of course, but I’m sure those of you across the globe can feel the pull of this as well).

It’s not… necessarily a bad thing, at the same time, in very real ways, we’ve sacrificed quality for quantity.

Not long ago, (though last year) I read an article in which an author came to the conclusion that quantity was more important for writers to focus on, because as she explained it, with quantity comes quality. (The more you write, the better you get). This is… not necessarily true, at least to my mind. I mean sure, you do get better the more you work, however, writing 500 crappy works does not equal out to one good one. Sure The Casual Vacancy took J.K.Rowling 5 years after she published Deathly Hallows, but it was worth the wait. Consider other authors who publish two books a year (so in the same 5 years… 10 books) and not one of them was worth reading, whereas J.K.Rowling’s was. Obviously using J.K.Rowling isn’t really a fair example, authors like her come around once in a generation, perhaps even a lifetime, but the point is… quality should trump quantity.

I’m a huge Apple fan, but let’s be honest, they rushed themselves on their maps and now all of us are suffering for it. I may not be on the pro-google side of any debate (unless it’s versus Bing), but getting rid of Google maps didn’t make a whole lot of sense, it was a really good program that didn’t need tampering with, and I wish Apple had just let this one go.

New Years Wresolutions V

 

 

 

very year since the start of this blog (or at least I’ve tried to make it every year) I’ve write up my Writing Resolutions for the New Year. Wresolutions for short.

1. Finish at least 1st draft of book 3 before Feb  2013.

2. Start Podcast

3. Major Web Updates

4. Take a break between last book in Secrets of Witches and first official book after the trilogy.

5. Write 3 books, publish 2 per year.

6. In spite of above, don’t rush yourself so much.

As it’s only December 4th (as of this writing) I have about a month or so in which to attempt this first goal. Originally I had hoped to have a first draft done before the first of December. Then January first. At this point, if I can do it before February I might still stay on track with my publishing goal. (Date to be determined).. I have an idea in my head of when I’d like to publish the final novel, but if I’ve learned anything from Bridge of Memories and Goddess of Carnage (perhaps especially from Carnage) it is to stop putting so much timing pressure on myself. It’s not good for the books and more importantly it’s not good for my sanity. I’m not saying I shouldn’t put deadlines on myself. Deadlines are necessary, and important, but if a book isn’t going to be ready by the deadline then it isn’t worth my rushing.

2-3 are well in progress. Actually to my mind, three is pretty much finished, with the exception of upgrading to WordPress premium. I’m hoping for sometime in April (I have a weird love of that month that I can’t fully explain). Beyond just the simplicity of updating to WordPress premium, the major updates will also include a major graphics update. I’ve actually gone through a few versions of this graphics update from what I originally thought I was going to do, but I think I’ve finally come to a version that I like and one that I hope will at least stay for the better part of the year. According to one of my graphic design teachers if a web graphics last more than a year that’s a pretty big deal. I’m sure he meant when the graphic designer is not also the client, but all things considered I change what I like a lot so I’m sure it still somewhat applies.

4 is going to be difficult for me. I’d like to take a minor break in between finishing book 2 and doing more of book 3 (as I’ve already started) but I suspect that isn’t going to happen anymore than me taking a break between book 3 and the next project simply because I’m not good at taking a break from writing. I would go crazy.

5 is more for after book 3, because I’m not sure what the odds are that I’ll be able to finish book 3 and two more by the end of the year. But we’ll see. It’s also a problem because as much as I would like to write three books a year because thus far it’s been exceptionally comfortable for me, but we’ll see.

6. Ultimately as much as I would like to write as many books in a year as I possibly can and as much as I would love to be able to publish at least two books a year, I don’t know what the future will hold. Like I said before, each book brings a new set of challenges for me as an author, and I like that. It’s fun to be challenged, but it’s also something to consider when I try to create a timeline for myself as to when I expect a book to come out. I have to be reasonable in my expectations, rushing myself isn’t going to make the book better and it’s certainly not going to do me any favors. Patience is key, and something I’m not very good at.

Coming 2013

ith the New Year right around the corner, I wanted to share with you all some of my plans for 2013, with regards to this blog in particular. By now you all likely know that beginning in early 2013 (shooting for April) I will be starting my podcast The Daily Racewood Radio. And you also probably know that I’ve got a big graphics update coming with the radio as well, though whether or not the graphics update will be a few months before TDR Radio or in the days leading up to, I’m still not sure. I’m kind of already getting sick of looking at the graphics I currently have, and so maybe it’s time for a change. I’m also, planning to change the theme which I have kept for the better part of 2012 (if I’m not mistaken) to something a little fresher, which I believe the graphics will reflect better. Don’t worry, it’s still going to be dark. I’ve worked very hard to ensure that I could find a theme that would allow me to continue my white text on a black background, I’m not sure my brand would permit anything else, and I like it that way. I’m not entirely sure what it the blog would look like in white but I am sure I don’t want to find out any time soon, if I can avoid it. Black suits me, my phone and my iPad are both black, my printer, my mouse, were I of the mind to put up curtains I imagine they would be black (or dark purple) too. The dark grunge works well for me. The real issue is deciding what sidebar items to keep in this move and which ones will probably not make it, as from the best I can tell, you get one sidebar with the new theme. I still have a bit of research to do, before I make anything official, but I’m looking forward to this new year and new changes to the Daily Racewood blog.

the Fanfic Debate

ith the large exception of it’s mention any time someone discusses 50 Shades of Grey, fan fiction isn’t really discussed by a lot of writers, but I’m finding more and more that (even before 50 Shades) it’s where a lot of writers got their start. And I think the answer is a lot more complicated than perhaps opponents of fanfic might have you believe. Fanfiction allows fans of a work to explore avenues that the author didn’t, but it also allows writers to explore their creativity with well established characters.

For the record, doing it well, is not as easy as you might think. Working with characters that people know a lot about, sometimes even more than you think you do, is not an easy undertaking. Believe me, I’ve tried. (I won’t give you names, but fifty points to Gryfindor if you can guess–not sure why I picked Gryfindor being I’m a Slytherin…). It was more an experiment to explore my ability at writing erotica, and depending on who you ask (isn’t that always the case?) I’m actually pretty good at it.

Fifty Shades or as it was known in it’s fanfic days, Master of the Universe ( a far better title in my opinion by the way), is not even a good example of what fanfiction looks like, or for that matter what good erotica looks like. Actually I’m sort of surprised that of all the fanfiction that exists that a ‘slash’* wasn’t the first one to make an actual novel. Mostly because it seems that there are far more ‘slash’ pairings than not.

The truth is, yes, good fanfictions are few and far between, tolerable stories are a little more common, and of course terribly written things that make your brain bleed a little are the most common, but occasionally you find a rare gem, that you actually wish you could see in stores. Because it’s Alternate Reality the characters don’t really resemble their actual counterparts and so reasonably speaking with the exception of name changes, they could make really fascinating books. Thus far, I have seen one that would be able to make the transition without much more than a few name changes and if by some miracle an editor is reading this blog who is looking for the next not-50 Shades but fanfic sensation. I urge them to click this link.

And anybody else who is curious.

Warning, it’s NSFW and guy on guy which is by the way what slash means. It’s also rather dark. But well worth it.

I would love your opinion on the fanfic debate, and which side of it you stand on.

An Artist Thing

 few weeks ago…don’t ask why it took me until just now to remember this story… my teacher was telling me about how many artists he knew worked on multiple pieces at the same time, stopping occasionally when they got stuck on something, then moving onto the next piece, usually working on about five or six at a time, and usually by the end having two or three pieces completed (the rest I believe he said, were scrapped entirely). 

As I look ahead towards life after Secrets of Witches, I find myself at a loss of deciding what to write next. I’ve got five books on the table. Three of which I absolutely know I must write first, and actually as one is a sequel, it’s really the choice between which of the two story lines I start with.

The one with a sequel after a long year and a half (perhaps closer to two years by the time this is done) of working on the Secrets of Witches trilogy, or a book who’s story begins and ends in one novel, but that I’ve been working on for at least four years now.

It’s not entirely a new concept for me to write multiple stories at once. I’ve done it before, many times, and generally whichever one wants to be written more will take over.

It’s been quite a while since the last time, but to be honest, I may have to try it again, just for the sheer fact that I have no idea what I want to write next, and this may be the only way I can figure it out.

I still have quite a bit of book 3 to finish, so maybe by the end I will have a better idea of what I want to work on next. I keep telling myself that I need to be patient, that the idea will come to me when it’s ready. But my mind is already reeling with the two books that between them will require a great deal of research and probably more time than I could ever imagine.

Get Off Your Ass and Write Pt. 2

his isn’t so much a part 2 as it is a progress report and my thoughts thus far. Don’t expect me to make a habit of this sort of post. 

I’m not really sure if this is at all related to my (trying) to exercise every night (with the exception of weekends apparently), but I think by the second night was when I had come up with my outlines for the five books I mentioned a few posts back. It seems hard to imagine that the effects would be that apparent, and as I said in that previous post about the books, there’s still a lot left to go to figure out which one I’m writing first, and how to tackle a great deal of issues. It’s worth noting however that in the article I quoted in the first Get Off Your Ass and Write post, the authors who added exercise into their lives were also reading while they did it. I’m not saying that exercise isn’t important and we as writers shouldn’t add it into their routine, but reading, for reasons I will never quite understand, tends to get the creative juices flowing. It’s why it’s difficult for me to read an entire book because within a few pages I end up wanting to write something of my own and then the book is quickly forgotten. I’m not really able to ground myself long enough to actually attempt to read a novel cover to cover without wanting to stop every so many pages to write something of my own. It’s actually why I don’t attempt reading whilst on the treadmill, that and I’m terrified my iPad will fall off. I tested it, just to see, and it was steady enough, but it’s not something I want to make a habit of. Music is definitely better, (also walking and reading can be a bit dizzying to some degree).

I still want to continue to exercise, for reasons other than possible benefit to my writing, but it is an interesting thought. Is it the reading while working out? Or just the working out itself that stimulates the mind?

How do you stimulate your brain after a creative slump?

PS: Just found surprisingly great fanfic and it’s making me want to write. Just saying.

Creative Chaos

ecently I read an article by Publishing Crawl in which an author suggested that one of the best ways to ensure that your book is everything you want it to be during rewrites is to be super organized. Like, color-coated sticky notes and everything.

This is… waaay too organized for me.

But one really interesting point that she made in the article was the idea of knowing what you want your book to be (if it were perfect) before you edit. You have an idea in your mind before you edit (which one would think you would do before you even started writing), and then you read over your novel and make notes of all the issues, plot, character, setting, consistency etc. And work from there, then you do a line edit.

Maybe it’s because I’ve never done this that editing is always hell for me because I tackle everything at the same time. I don’t generally read the whole novel making notes about things that need particular help, I pretty much do everything at once. I’m not even sure I could stand to read my entire novel without making some kind of change to it at some point or another, before the end, it would drive me mad, because I know that if I don’t get it when I see it, I might forget by the time it comes around again. That said, maybe it’s time I make life easier on myself with regards to editing. Worst case scenario, I try this new form of editing and learn, as I have in the past with other forms of editing strategy that it just doesn’t work for me.

I’m curious though, because editing is such a major part of the writing process, and to say the least inescapable, how do you edit? Do you work like the aforementioned color-coated sticky note method? Or do you, like me, try to attack everything at once? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

New-Adult Fiction

omewhere between young adult and adult fiction there lies a new genre. New-Adult Fiction, and I think it’s the perfect genre to describe Secrets of Witches. 

Why?

Because for one thing Secrets of Witches has never really fit comfortably in the YA genre, not to my mind anyway. For anyone who has read it, you can probably see where I’m coming from, for those of you who have simply read YA? Probably Not, you can probably understand why I didn’t feel that Secrets of Witches quite fit in the YA genre. Nor, did it necessarily fit in with the adult market either. Then through GalleyCat, I discovered the new genre that is apparently taking over Goodreads, New-Adult Fiction. 

According to an article by the Guardian New-Adult Fiction is aimed at readers aged 14-35, and often is the story of characters who go through post-adolescence into adulthood. The article also brings up some very valid points about whether or not a book that would appeal to someone aged 14/15 also appealing to a 35 year old. It also suggests that perhaps such a book might also not be appropriate for a fourteen year old reader as it would be much darker. To that I say, clearly you don’t remember being fourteen.

Maybe it’s because it really wasn’t all that long ago that I was 14, but fourteen year olds aren’t as innocent as apparently society would like to make them out to be. They play video games probably twice as violent as any book could ever hope to be, (sometimes even younger than 14).  And for the record, it’s doubtful most 14 year olds are just experiencing first love, or for that matter their first sexual experience. Perhaps it was just bragging where I went to school but just about everyone had a girlfriend or boyfriend at some point, had had one for a while or several for that matter and had at least been saying they were having sex since the 6th grade (in which I was 13). Sure it may or may not have been all talk, but the point is, the first rule of writing YA fiction is not to patronize young people, so why is it okay for a journalist to do so in describing why New-adult fiction may not be appropriate for 14 year olds? Now if the argument is whether or not their parents would approve of them reading such a book, that’s a different matter entirely. What is worth really debating is the idea of would a book with such a broad age range really appeal to 14-35 year olds the same way?

As it is, this newest genre may actually be the perfect setting for Secrets of Witches because the characters start out at 16, and will go through their lives into their mid to late twenties.