Michelle Proulx's Blog, page 27

Busy busy … here’s a chill song to get you through Friday :)

I spent all morning editing a wedding video for my friends who recently got married (congrats guys!), so I’m once again ludicrously behind on everything — work, writing, editing, blogging, the whole shebang.

Anyway, I ended up putting on one of my favourite songs in the world to chill me out, and it worked, so I thought I would share it with you. Press play, sit back, close your eyes, and enjoy!

You know what bugs the &^%$ outta me?

Reblogged from Green Embers:

Green Embers’ Fantasy Rants

A world without feeling!

First, I have a rant for calling it the “fantasy” genre. Why does this annoy me? Well take a look at the other typical genres. You have romance, suspense, thriller, mystery, action and drama which all denote some type of emotional state. Then you have fantasy, science fiction and a few others which really denote a fantastical or futuristic setting.

Read more… 2,255 more words

Excellent post about fantasy worlds and the stereotypical things you should avoid when writing them.

Guest Post: Charles Yallowitz on Sequel Writing

Tips on Writing a Sequel

First, a big thank you to Michelle Proulx for letting me write a guest blog in honor of the July 31st debut of my second book, Legends of Windemere: Prodigy of Rainbow Tower.  I think that covers the shameless self-promotion part of the program.  Wait.  Feel free to buy and read Legends of Windemere: Beginning of a Hero, so you’re ready for the sequel.  There.  That should do it.

So, you want to write a sequel.  It’s a common malady for fiction authors.  You love your characters and you have subplots that need more time to run their course.  You have a new villain that you want to use. That infomercial at 3AM gave you the best idea for another story with the same characters.  There’s also the chance that you had a series planned all along and this is the natural progression of your career.  In the end, the sequel is there and you’re ready to write it.

My story is that my books are based on a college Dungeons & Dragons game.  I knew from the beginning that a series would have to happen.  Each semester had a different quest as the heroes moved through the dice rolls.  Then I realized I had to put some work in and altered a lot before I sat down to write.  The big difference is that characters don’t evolve too much over the course of a single adventure in a game.  In fact, many players have their characters stay the same in terms of mentality and emotions.  I had to shake things up and put growth into the story, which is why I take sequels very seriously.  You need all of your main characters to change in every book even if it’s minor.  For example, one character might go through a life-changing event while another learns a new skill.  Both are growth, but one is definitely heavier than the other.

I would say one of the most difficult parts of writing a sequel (and I’m writing the 5th book of the series here) is balance of characters.  Specifically, your old characters versus your new characters. You have your original heroes that you need to keep some focus on and retain what they had in the first book.  You must also put them in situations that test their strength and develop them beyond their original forms.  This takes a lot of work because you don’t want to go too far or spend all of your time on it.  Yes, these are the characters you started with and they have seniority, but they also have fans and reputations that your new characters are setting out the gain.

The balance with new characters is that you need to highlight them without overshadowing your old characters.  They need to merge into the preexisting group, but not so flawlessly that it’s unbelievable.  Think about how you make new friends and try to work off that.  You might even want to go with a new character that the old ones have trouble getting along with.  I introduce a very powerful spellcaster named Nyx in my new book.  She is temperamental, rude, and difficult to get along with at first.  It makes for an interesting story because she butts heads with the main hero of the first book, Luke Callindor.  This gave me the opportunity to delve into the tolerance and friendship making ability of these two characters.  In the end, I create a very tight and clear dynamic between them.

Here are some simple tips about writing a sequel:

Change is good and necessary in terms of characters.  Yet, you must always stay true to the character.  If one of them goes evil then it has to make sense that they do it.  The noble Paladin going evil on a whim won’t win you any sales.
Reference past books, but don’t harp on it.  You need to find a way for the new characters to learn about past events.  I write in present tense, so this is done through dialogue.  I also use the occasional ‘told off-camera’ trick when it can be used.
Never be afraid to check back to your first book to make sure you have your facts straight.  If you mention that a city has a specific symbol in the first book then double check when the characters actually go there.
Give the villains a reason to hate or fear the new characters.  You need your villains to acknowledge your new character instead of holding onto the old grudge.  Otherwise, your new hero becomes a secondary character.
Spell the series name correctly.  You think I’m joking here?  Well, I am, but better safe than sorry.
Don’t be afraid to shake up the foundation.  The fun of a second book is that you can change things in the overall world.  A city can be wiped out or a secondary character from the first book can be killed.  The fun of a sequel, which can lead to a series, is that you now have the reach and time to do world-changing events.
Most important!!!  Have fun.  Don’t look at writing the sequel as a stressful situation where you need to outdo the first.  Have fun with the writing and exploring your beloved characters.  You’ve given them more than a spotlight, but a life path that can go on for a few books if you wish it to.

Those are the big points about writing a sequel.  If this inspired you to write a sequel or plan a series then I’ve done my job.  Again, have fun and enjoy yourself!

 

 

 

 

 

You can check out Charles Yallowitz’s debut novel, Beginning of a Hero, by clicking here.

 

And you can check out the sequel (release date: July 31, 2013), Prodigy of Rainbow Tower, by clicking here.

 

New Action-Packed Fan Art from Celeste DeWolfe

Happy Sunday, everyone! Whilst you’re lounging about in the glorious sunshine, entertain yourselves by viewing this latest and greatest Imminent Danger And How to Fly Straight into It, by the lovely and talented Celeste DeWolfe! Three cheers for Celeste DeWolfe! Hip hip hurray!

Artist: Celeste DeWolfe

For those who haven’t read the book, what’s basically going on here is that Eris (girl in purple) and Miguri (white-haired little dude) are being held prisoner by the Ssrisk (big blue lizard guy). Varrin (acrobatic gentleman in black) has arrived to rescue them, and by using his genetically-enhanced awesomeness, manages to snatch them from the clutches of these villainous lizard-folk.

 

Unrelated link of the day:

Art paired with food = excellence. http://www.thisiscolossal.com/2013/04/artist-hong-yi-plays-with-her-food/?src=footer

Presenting … Chapter 2 of “Imminent Danger And How to Fly Straight into It”

As the title of this post suggests, I am psyched to share with you today CHAPTER 2 of my book, Imminent Danger And How to Fly Straight into It. If you missed CHAPTER 1, click here to give it a read.

Onwards, dear friends, unto the breach!

 

2

When Eris came to, her first thought was blue. It took her a few groggy seconds to figure out why. The spongy, curved walls of the small, spherical room in which she found herself were a vibrant shade of aquamarine and glowing softly. There were no obvious doors or windows. Where on Earth am I? In a giant blue gum ball?

After several minutes of panicked hyperventilation, Eris forced herself to calm down and try to make some sense of her situation.

Someone—or multiple someones—attacked me, she thought. They were wearing scaly gloves, for some weird reason. A prank gone way too far? I wouldn’t put it past some of my classmates. But Eris found the paralysis liquid more difficult to rationalize. Professional kidnappers? Barlow Collegiate has its fair share of trust-fund babies—they must have mistaken me for one, although my duct-taped book bag really should have given me away as a scholarship student. This must be just a colossal mistake.

Feeling slightly calmer, Eris examined her surroundings more closely. The only item of interest was a circular groove in the wall about six feet in diameter. She guessed it was the door, since the rest of the room was seamless and unmarked. Although it doesn’t look like any door I’ve ever seen. Eris decided to bang on it to see what would happen.

THUNK.

THUNK.

Just as her fist was about to thunk down again, the groove glowed a bright white. The door spiraled open like a camera’s shutter. Eris was caught off balance and tumbled forward, straight into a pair of scaly blue arms.

Gasping, Eris pushed herself away and staggered back. The creature before her was like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. Jagged blue scales covered its entire body, and it stood easily eight feet tall. It had six hands, each with webbed fingers and inch-long claws. A milky white gem on its forehead was glowing softly, and its slitted, purple eyes peered intelligently at her. The eyes were like nothing Eris had ever seen. Otherworldly eyes. In that instant, she came to a jarring realization.

“Alien,” she whispered.

Then she fainted.

*          *          *

When Eris regained consciousness, she found herself staring into slitted purple eyes. The creature was crouched over her, flicking its tri-forked tongue in and out from between scaly blue lips.

This isn’t a dream, she realized, starting to hyperventilate again. This is real. This … thing is real.

The creature made a phhh sound, splattering Eris’s face with moist, foul-smelling spittle. She screamed hysterically and scrambled away from the monster, pressing herself against the far wall.

The alien stood up, towering over her. Eris screamed again, holding her hands in front of her. “Leave me alone! Please! Go away!”

Flicking out its tongue again, the creature looked down at her and then abruptly turned and left.

As the door spiraled shut, Eris’s knees collapsed. She sank to the curved floor in shock. “I can’t believe it,” she whispered. “Aliens exist?”

Eris had always been skeptical of the existence of extraterrestrials. In her mind, they fell into the same category as dragons and vampires—fun to imagine but not real. For a few minutes, she tried to cling to the belief that this was just an elaborate hoax by some crazy group of people who enjoyed dressing up as scaly blue reptiles. But those eyes!

The memory of her captor’s otherworldly eyes made Eris feel certain that somehow, for reasons she could not possibly begin to fathom, she had been abducted by aliens. This terrifying prospect was so far outside her range of experience that Eris could do little more than sit silently, frozen with shock.

*          *          *

As the hours dragged by, alone in the gum ball cell, Eris’s initial terror was slowly replaced by bewilderment. She began to wonder why, of all the people on Earth, she was the one who had been abducted. She wasn’t the president of some country. She wasn’t the daughter of anyone important. She wasn’t particularly popular. To her knowledge, she had never done anything to offend anyone in any way. And she didn’t do drugs, or she would have attributed the whole thing to a really bad trip.

Maybe I’m actually their long-lost princess and they’ve come to bring me back to their planet, where I’ll be cherished and adored by my true people. Eris briefly entertained the notion and then discarded it as ridiculous. Could this really just be a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time?

The more Eris thought about her predicament, the more it began to infuriate her. Jumping to her feet, she shouted, “This is insane! Aliens shouldn’t even exist, let alone fly around kidnapping random people for the fun of it! Let me out of here, you scaly psychos!”

When she ran out of rage, Eris collapsed to her knees on the spongy floor. Cradling her head in her hands, she whispered,  “Please, just let me go,” even though she knew no one could hear her plea.

*          *          *

A short time later, the door spiraled open. A reptilian arm shot into the room, grabbed Eris by the hood of her sweater, and yanked her out.

As she struggled to gain her footing, Eris saw she was in a large, blue room with curved walls. A second blue alien was standing outside the cell. With no warning or explanation, Eris found herself pinioned between the two huge creatures. She wanted to ask what they intended to do with her, but the words died in her throat.

Eris held back her tears as the aliens frog-marched her around the edge of the room. Twenty or so small doors like the one through which she had just been pulled were set into the outer wall. In the center of the room was a large platform with a circular console covered with glowing buttons and small screens. Am I in an alien prison?

Her two escorts stopped at a large portal on the far side of the room. Beside the door, a shallow basin filled with a blue, jellylike substance was attached to the wall. One of the aliens, still keeping a painful grip on Eris’s arm, plunged its hand into the jelly. The portal opened, and they dragged her through.

The creatures marched Eris through a series of blue curved hallways. They stopped on a circular groove set into the floor. The floor glowed, and then the elevator column shot upward. As they rose, Eris caught brief glimpses of space through portholes in the wall. Oh my God. I really am in space!

When the elevator stopped, Eris was facing a huge, circular portal. It was fifteen feet high and encircled by bones—large bones and small bones of strange shapes and forms. She shuddered when she noticed a few bones near the top that looked uncomfortably familiar. God, I hope those aren’t human.

The door itself was carved with creatures that resembled Eris’s abductors. The alien figures were arranged around a central figure with dozens of wavering tentacles, three eyes, and a gaping mouth ringed by razor-sharp teeth. I’m going to die, Eris thought. This is the end. I am going to be devoured by six-armed aliens with a curious fondness for blue, and my bones will be strung up to serve as a door-frame decoration for their chieftain’s lair.

Before Eris could panic, one of her guards placed a clawed hand into the bowl of jelly protruding from the wall, and the door slid open. The guards dragged her into a large room. The outer wall was lined with more aliens, all seated in front of sleek computer stations. Above each station were circular screens, some showing complex-looking charts, others views of space. If I’m on a spaceship, Eris thought, this must be the bridge.

There was a raised platform in the center of the room on which was perched a monstrous chair that looked like it was made of some distant cousin of coral. Sitting in the chair was a reptilian creature somewhat larger than the aliens Eris had seen so far. The tips of its scales were a yellow-green color. The captain?

The creature swiveled in its chair and locked its glittering purple eyes onto Eris’s green ones. After a moment, it half-warbled, half-roared what sounded like a command. Her two guards shoved her forward, and she tumbled to her knees. She was so scared that she could barely think. Her eyes welled with tears.

The alien hissed loudly at her.

“What do you want from me?” Eris asked helplessly.

The shorter of her two guards cuffed her soundly across the head. Whimpering with pain as the big reptiles dragged her back to her feet, Eris decided it would be safer to keep her mouth shut.

As Eris cowered silently, the alien captain leaned forward as if to study its captive more intently. Then it hissed again, and a tri-forked purple tongue snaked out from its mouth and shot close to Eris’s face. When she flinched and tried to jump back, her guards held her immobile.

The captain’s tongue slid sinuously over Eris’s face, coating her skin with a thin layer of foul-smelling slime. She found the experience not only disgusting but also degrading as the three tips of the tongue traced paths across her cheek, over her lips, and up her nose. Teardrops started to trickle down her face, and the alien lapped them up. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to scream.

Apparently satisfied, the creature’s tongue slurped back into its mouth. Maybe it will let me go now that it’s finished its tongue bath, Eris prayed. Then the captain pulled out a long, bone-colored knife and began to stroke it.

Or maybe, she thought, I’m going to die after all.

Inspiration is …

Words of wisdom we must all live by:

Has your brain exploded yet?

 

“Seven Harry Potters” Scene – Re-written

Once upon a time, Harry Potter was about to turn seventeen. He knew that the second the clock struck midnight, Voldemort and his Death Eaters would arrive to capture him. He also found out that a corrupt Ministry of Magic official had made it an imprisonable offence for him to use Floo powder, portkeys, or Apparition to escape.

All seemed hopeless, and Harry thought he would have no choice but to let six of his friends use Polyjuice potion and pretend to be him. With these seven Harry Potters, the Death Eaters wouldn’t know which Harry was which when they made their daring escape — although this would also put his friends in great danger, and might very well end in their death and/or dismemberment.

Then Harry remembered that he wasn’t a complete idiot, and that he didn’t care about being imprisoned since the Ministry was already under Voldemort’s thumb. So he told Moody and the Order of the Phoenix to call off their ridiculous plan, and he waited more-or-less peacefully in the Dursley’s house right up until his birthday.

At three seconds to midnight, he Apparated to some random field in the middle of nowhere. He knew that the Death Eaters would follow him, but he wasn’t worried, because he remembered that he wasn’t playing an online game, and that the Apparate spell doesn’t have a cooldown.

So Harry immediately Apparated again — straight to the Burrow, this time — and the Death Eaters had no idea where he went because by then it was past midnight, he was now seventeen, and the trace spell that the Ministry used on him to track his underage magic usage had stopped working.

Harry Potter therefore arrived safe and sound at the Burrow without putting any of his friends in danger, or getting anyone’s ear blown off, and everyone was very happy to see him and they all ate treacle tart to celebrate.

The End.

 

Unrelated media of the day:

Source: http://i.imgur.com/tmuPJ.jpg

The proper way to pluck a chicken

My little brother keeps harassing me to write more blog posts, ostensibly because he feels that more content will drive more readers to my blog — but I suspect it’s because he secretly enjoys watching me scramble to catch up on my work when I spend all my time blogging instead of doing my job.

Anyway, heeding his advice, I sat down and then shouted, “Jesse! What should I blog about?” And he responded with his usual aplomb, “The proper way to pluck a chicken!” Therefore, I present to you:

The proper way to pluck a chicken

Go to your local grocery store and locate the “dairy” section. Acquire a carton of eggs. Make sure to hide them in your bag so you don’t get arrested for shop-lifting.
As soon as you exit the store, hug the egg carton to your chest. The adrenalin you produced during your daring shop-lifting adventure will now exude from your pores, coating the eggs in a protective layer.
Find a sunny area of grass and lay out your eggs in the shape of six-point star. Raise your hands to the sky and shout, “POULTARIUS THE FOWL, MASTER OF THE CLUCKIVERSE, GRANT ME YOUR POWER THAT I MIGHT SLAY THE INFIDELS!”
Get arrested for causing a public disturbance. If no police show up, you need to find a more crowded area — parks work nicely. Set up your eggs, pray to Poultarius the Fowl again, and make sure you shout really loudly to ensure law enforcement attraction.
Assuming you’ve done everything right, you should now be in jail. Don’t be fooled by the police’s attempts to have you “post bail” or “plead insanity” — prison is exactly where you want to be. Hunker down for a long stay.
Eventually you will be moved to a county jail and assigned a cellmate. You want to find a cellmate whose name starts with “F”. If you don’t luck out on the first try, drive off your cellmates by sitting creepily in the corner and muttering about devouring the souls of the living until you’re assigned someone who is appropriately lettered.
Make friends with F. As soon as you’ve lulled him/her into a false sense of security — and here’s the tricky part — you need to brainwash them into believing that they are in fact a chicken. Hence the necessity of having their name start with F — it’s been scientifically proven that F-named people are more susceptible to poultry-related brainwashing.
Now that you’ve got your chicken, all you need to do is pluck it! Chopsticks work best for plucking, so get your hands on a pair. This should be very easy if you’re incarcerated in Asia. If you’re unlucky enough to be elsewhere, you’ll want to get to Asia. Most US prisons have large tunnels drilled underneath the basketball court that lead directly to China (magma is a liquid, so it’s quite easy to dig through), so hop down one at your earliest convenience.
Sneak the chopsticks back to your cell and wait until lights out. Once your chicken cellmate is sleeping, carefully approach them and use your chopsticks to pluck out the longest, most luxurious hair from their head. In the case of a bald chicken cellmate, eyebrow and nostril hairs will suffice.
Congratulations! You’ve properly plucked a chicken! Since you’re stuck in prison for the foreseeable future, you might as well write a memoir about your chicken-plucking adventure. Sell it to the publisher of your choice, and then sit back and watch as the millions pile up in the bank account you can’t access!

Satisfied, Jesse? Good. Now I can go back to work!

Unrelated media of the day:

If male superheroes dressed like female superheroes …

Source: http://i.imgur.com/ierqmmt.jpg

My crazy new idea for a book series

I have a crazy new idea for a book series. I’m not talking about the story or characters or anything (although they will be epic!). I’m talking about the structure of the series itself.

Here’s my idea. Ready?

So I was watching The Avengers a while back, and I thought the concept of having a handful of origin stories followed by an ensemble film, followed by more individual hero stories, followed by another ensemble film, etc. etc., was a really cool idea. And then I thought, “Has this been done with books? Could it be done with books? Why is cheesy popcorn so delicious, and yet none of my local theaters sells it?”

Existential popcorn question aside, I took this idea and have been running with it. What I currently have planned (everything is still in the outlining stage at this point), is a series of books which will be comprised of four “origin” stories, followed by an “ensemble” story, and then potentially splitting back off again to the individual characters for more adventures.

Here’s a terrible line-drawing of vaguely how the series would work:

Now, when I suggested this idea to the gentleman who critiqued Imminent Danger a few weeks ago, he said that the idea would never work. According to him, this sort of series has never been attempted because it just plain won’t sell. He suggested that instead I fit those four “origin” stories into one novel, and have the climax of that novel be whatever climax I was planning to use in the first ensemble story.

I think part of the reason it could actually work really well is because I would be self-publishing it. Meaning I could price the origin stories very low (or some of them, at least), in order to garner attention and gain fans. Or have free giveaways, set one of the origin stories permanently free, bundle them all up in an anthology once they’ve all been released, etc. etc. I’m more focused on writing them than marketing them at the moment, but still … important things to think about!

So … what’s everyone’s thoughts on this? Do you think a book series modeled in the “Avengers ensemble” style could possibly work? I’m hoping some of you will say “yes”, because I think it’s a really fun idea! But if you think it’s doomed to failure, don’t hesitate to tell me why. All information is good information!

Update: I thought you guys might be amused to know that the working title for this project is “SWAG RAVEN” — as in, a raven with lots of swag.

Unrelated media of the day:

How to Deal with Harsh Criticism

As you may have guessed from the title, I recently received some fairly harsh criticism about my debut novel, Imminent Danger And How to Fly Straight into It. I’m not going to lie — it really bummed me out. But that happened last Wednesday, and I’ve since rallied. Well, enough so that I’m able to write a post about it, anyway!

Here’s what happened: I recently started attending a local writer’s group, and one of the gentlemen in the group (a writing professor) bought a copy of my book and read it through. When he finished, he invited me to have coffee so he could share his thoughts with me. What followed was … kind of brutal.

Basically, he didn’t like the book at all — he thought it was unoriginal, boring, and lacking in “fangs”. He  classified Imminent Danger as “juvenilia” — quoth Wikipedia, “a term applied to literary, musical or artistic works produced by an author during his or her youth”. As in … it’s a decent attempt for a first novel, but actually it’s pretty bad and you should probably forget it ever happened and move on. He also told me that if I want to seriously be a writer, I need to abandon self-publishing and aim for traditional publishing, with self-publishing as only a last resort.

In his defense, the criticism wasn’t all bad and soul-slicing. He did say he found parts very funny, that he quite liked a few of the characters, and that he thought I had great potential as a writer. And he was very kind about it — he ended a lot of statements with “I don’t know — just a thought” to lessen the blow. And obviously I appreciate the feedback, especially from someone who has studied literature as extensively as he has. Still … brutal.

Not a fun experience. And he wasn’t entirely wrong – Imminent Danger isn’t a hard-hitting, super-intense, hard-core science fiction story where everything goes to hell in a handbasket and people get their limbs blown off and have their minds blown by crazy metaphysical questions about life and the universe and whatnot. That’s because it’s not meant to be. It’s fun, flirty, and silly. It’s the kind of book you bring to the beach and read whilst sipping a pina colada and basking in the tropical breeze.

I forgot that for a while after the coffee chat — I was really down on myself, thinking, “He’s right, this story is awful, why on Earth did you ever bother self-publishing it?”

And then I remembered that different people are different, and everyone has their own opinion, and that not everyone is going to like my book, regardless of how much I wish it were otherwise. My book may not be a ground-breaking, Earth-shattering book that will radically alter how we humans perceive of ourselves for decades to come … but hey, I like it! I like the characters, I like the world I created, and according to the reviews, I’m not alone in that.

So … I guess the moral of the story is this: different people are different, and you will never write a book that everyone likes. So if someone gives you a harsh review:

Extract the good advice from the bad, and apply it to your future writing as necessary.
Remind yourself of all the reasons why you wrote your book, and why you love your book.
Get right back on that writing horse and keep going! You’re an author, dammit! Giving up is for lesser beings!

 

Totally related media of the day:

From the ashes of disaster grow the roses of success!