K.R. Wilburn's Blog, page 4
February 5, 2014
Books you should be reading: Deeper by Robin York
Deeper by Robin YorkMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
This book literally blew me away. I picked it up after seeing someone tweet about Robin York doing a blog about writing the tough stuff. I thought to myself, what tough stuff? The blog article was about revenge porn, something I had seen on the news before and always managed to break my heart just seeing it. Being a part of the military community, you see it really often. Joes against Hoes, Barracks Bunnies, crap like that, all with the same idea. Send in photos and your sob story of how someone did you wrong and "save" your battle buddies from the horror. Except they don't have to prove anything. They can just send it in with their testimony and basically wreck some girls reputation whether its deserved or not.
So of course I had to pick up this book. I wanted to see how it was handled. The very first chapter I was already crying. Robin York pulls you inside this character and lets you see, no, forces you to see what one selfish thoughtless act from someone this girl once trusted completely ruined her. it was hard to read to tell you the truth. But this story isn't about what happened to Caroline. This story is about how Caroline became her own heroine. How she, with the help of the amazing West who is his own big ass ball of fuckedupedness (it's a word, deal with it) grew out of being a victim and became someone stronger than what happened to her. This story should resonate with anyone who has been a victim of sexual assault because really what else is revenge porn but an assault?
This isn't light reading. This isn't feel good reading. This is MAKE YOU FEEL reading because you will. Only the most soulless hardened shell on earth could read this book and not feel. But, you should read this book. And it should make you mad. And it should make you want to DO something about it. Like write your congressman and demand that laws be put into place to protect people. yeah, this book gives you those kind of feels. Linger in the back of your mind and shock you kind of feels.
View all my reviews If you're interested in learning more about Revenge Porn and what you can do, please check out Women against Revenge Porn
January 28, 2014
Teaser Tuesday
This was me all week after getting my release date. Woody is doing a great impersonation of my husband. First things first, note my excitement as I have an official release date for Changeling. :D May 2nd, coming to amazon, you can snatch up a copy of my soul on paper. That was the hardest book for me to write because I identified 0% with my MC. When my creative writing professor told me that nearly all MC's in the first novel was autobiographical I snorted so hard it actually made my eyes hurt. I blame this on my intense dislike of Mary Sue-ism. 
mary sue's make my skin crawl. I'm telling you this because my WIP is different. I actually identify with my MC. I think parts of my snark snuck in her. It is SO much more fun writing snark, and from both of the MC's too! Sometimes I want to grab a bowl of popcorn and enjoy the showdown in my head and sometimes, I feel the need to write it down. That doesn't always work. You know what else doesn't work? Trying to follow someone elses writing process. When I wrote changeling, I submitted my progress to my Alpha readers every monday. They helped as readers to shape how the story went. It also made their mondays not suck (their words).
I read somewhere that I shouldn't do that. That I needed to write the whole thing THEN let them read it. Do you know what happened then?
Come back motivation! My motivation ran away. The story stayed out of my fingertips and the more I tried to force myself into someone elses writing process, the bigger that writers block got. We're talking city blocks here people. With the block came the guilt, with the guilt came the avoidance until two months went by without me writing a damn thing. So, lesson learned. Screw your process. There is no right way to write. To quote Katy Perry "just open up your heart and let it begin". The rest is up to you. You can not force a creative process to meet a mold. It doesn't work!
.
Once I figured that out, the dam broke and suddenly I'm writing again. So in celebration, here's a bit from my WIP. Remember that this is raw and unedited by anyone. Not even me so don't be a Judgy McJudger
TEASER TEASER TEASER TEASER TEASER TEASER TEASER “Oh my god,” Harlow Jean whispered breathlessly, her eyes going wide as she stared over my shoulder. “Willow, check out the guy who just walked in. I swear I think my right ovary just popped.”I turned and followed her gaze, feeling my heart sink into my stomach. I let loose a string of curse words fly under my breath. It was the guy from the gas station, the one who had kissed me and made my knees go weak and my brain go stupid. Suddenly, judging from the grin spreading across his face as his eyes met mine, I suspected that he had come here looking for me.
“Willow,” He greeted me, his eyes twinkling as he approached the bar. “Don’t you look like a tall glass of water.”
I shot him an incredulous look. Cheesy pick up lines? Was this guy for real?
“I don’t know, but you look like a tall glass of nope. What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded folding my arms underneath my breasts and shooting him a glare that would have set his hair on fire if there was any justice in the world. Instead his lush lips, lips I could vividly remember moving against mine, curl into a wolfish smile that made my heart beat too fast for comfort.
Bryce looked at me, confused by my hostility, his gaze sliding back and forth between the stranger and me, looking for the connection.
“Willow!” Harlow Jean whispered loudly in my ear, never tearing her eyes or her grin away from the handsome man. “Didn’t your mamma teach you any manners?”
“No,” I snorted. “My mom didn’t stick around long enough to teach me anything.”
Harlow Jean inhaled sharply, looking at me with pity and I could have kicked myself.
“She’s a heathen Harlow Jean,” Bryce laughed. “Don’t bother trying to fix her manners. She doesn’t have any.”
“Shut up Bryce,” I growled as Harlow smiled sadly at me. The stranger just watched the exchange with interest. “Seriously guy, what do you want? Are you stalking me now?”
“Maybe I just wanted some coffee,” He said with a wink, his accent doing strange things to my insides. “And I wanted to know what time you’re getting off work so I can pick you up and take you out to dinner.”
“You have a better chance of getting a cup of coffee,” I growled. “I’m not interested.”
That was a lie. I was very interested, but damned if I was going to tell him that. I had sworn off guys for good, especially georgous ones with beautiful smiles that oozed smarmy charm.
I only had to have my heart destroyed once to learn my lesson. Guys like him were trouble and they always left you a worthless wreck when they were done with you.
“That’s okay pet,” He grinned, unperturbed by my lack of interest. “I’m a patient man. I can wait as long as it takes. So how about that coffee then?”
“There’s a Starbucks down the road,” I said, pointing down the road and willing him to leave. I was still mortified over my behavior that morning and I wasn’t sure what it was about him that was off-putting but I simultaneously wanted to jump into his arms and run away as fast as I could.
“Oh for crying out loud,” Harlow Jean muttered and shot me a dirty look. “What can I get for you sugar?”
He smiled and ordered a black coffee, never taking his eyes off of me. I rolled my eyes at him and stomped over to Harlow Jean, making sure that she didn’t screw up the coffee but really I just wanted to escape his presence for a moment. I needed to make my heart stop beating so hard or I was positive he would hear it.
“The name’s Bryce.” I heard Bryce introduce himself to the stranger and I looked over my shoulder, watching my friend offer his hand in introduction. He seemed friendly but I knew him well enough that I could see he was curious and wanted to know why I was so distant and why I was acting so, well not out of character because let’s be honest here, I’m not exactly a friendly person in the first place, but more hostile than usual.
“Liam,” the stranger accepted his hand, a thin pair of black gloves covering his hands.
“So how do you know Willow?” Bryce asked curiously.
“Well we ran into each other yesterday morning, didn’t we love?” He smirked at me as Harlow Jean brought him his coffee.
I blushed, the heat climbing my neck and pooling in my cheeks as I remembered the intensity of his kiss. His eyes flashed and he smirked at me in satisfaction, as if he could see where my memory had taken me.
“I wouldn’t exactly phrase it that way. And don’t call me that.” I said crossly. “What’s with the gloves?”
He glanced down at his gloves and looked back at me. “Sensory thing,” He shrugged. “It’s a personality quirk. I just don’t like touching things.”
I arched an eyebrow. That was bullshit and he knew it. He hadn’t been wearing those gloves yesterday morning when he had been touching my face and tugging my hair. I blushed harder remembering the feel of his hands in my hair and his lips on mine. There certainly had been no dislike of touching things then.
His eyes twinkled as he observed my face.
“I love it when you blush,” He whispered intimately, leaning towards me. “Go out to dinner with me, you know you want to.”
“I said no,” I glared at him, my feeling flustered because part of me very much wanted to say yes. “This isn’t me playing hard to get. This is me shooting you down. In flames. If you listen close I’m sure you can hear the sirens.”
“Then I’ll just keep asking until you say yes. And until then I think I may have just found my new favorite place in the world.”
“Whatever,” I growled. “You got this Harlow Jean? My shift is ending and I need to get to the shelter.”
“Um, yeah,” She said, looking anything but confident and frankly I wasn’t too confident in her skills either. It would serve Rob right if she burned the place to the ground.
“Shelter? “ Liam inquired, sipping his coffee.
“None of your business Liam,” I snapped.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Perhaps I want to make it my business.”
Bryce bristled next to him.
“She said she wasn’t interested friend,” he said, standing up and stretching. “So I think perhaps it’s best you went on your way.”
“What is it with you yanks? Are ye all blind? She's interested. Make no mistake about that. And perhaps I’m content to stay where I am,” Liam replied, glancing from me to Bryce questioningly.
I watched him trying to guess the nature of my relationship with my friend and I rolled my eyes. Stupid boys and their stupid pissing matches. Ten minutes more and they'd both be peeing on my leg.
January 19, 2014
Have I mentioned that I hate revision and editing?
I love writing. I love figuring out how a story plays out and putting it on paper. It's one of the best feelings in the world to develop characters that people can connect to and want to know more about. All the little bits and pieces that make up their world and their lives make me extremely happy, and getting to type The End is a moment of glory eclipsed only by the day I married my husband and the days I had my children.
Unfortunately this is where the suck begins. The revision and editing process. Oh how I loathe this part.
This is me when I realize I have to start fixing my story to make it readable. And I have to do this. Because let's be honest, all writers have bad habits. And I have some truly horrible habits. For instance, the word Began. I cannot begin to tell you how many times my character began to do something. I don't even know why I like this word. It's like a trumped up version of my norcal upbringing where everything was "and he was like, and I was like, and we were like." It bugs. it's horrible to listen to and worse to read so first things first, search and destroy all instances (or most) of the word began. And as I begin to fix this I start noticing all the other little flaws in my manuscript and I start feeling exhausted and angry. 
This is usually the point where my children and my animals and my spouse start begging for food and attention or my team starts losing the freaking conference championship and people really should be more wary about approaching me because this is what they're going to get. 
eff you seahawks. But eventually I fall back in my story and start finding mistakes and fixing them, and the story starts to flow better. I'm starting to be more proud of myself and my story and then comes the DILEMMA. THE SCENE. It's a perfectly crafted scene. Beautiful, poignant, hilarious and it makes me fall in love with my characters even more but there's a problem.
it doesn't fit. It doesn't progress the story and it messes with the flow so...it has to go, even though it doesn't want to and I don't want it to.
no...but I shouldn't have asked you to go with me in the first place. I'll try to use you later, I promise! I know in the end I'll have crafted a better story. It's not just chipping away at the block of marble to reveal the masterpiece, it's more like mining that block of marble and smoothing it down before you even started, then regretting every chip and chink you have to make to find the masterpiece. You want to pick up all those little pieces of rubble from the ground and clutch them to your breast and apologize that they aren't good enough.
There are writers who love the revision process and like it better than writing the actual story. I don't agree with them. Frankly I think they're nuts and find myself inexplicably distrustful of them. I mean come on, who likes editing? that's like...like liking to clean, something else I only do because I must but find little to no enjoyment in it.
But I can say that despite my grumbling and moaning, the version I have after my edits are done is so much more polished, that even if you never get to see the scene's I had to cut, it's worth it because I know all the work I do now will just allow you to see the sparkling gem underneath, and not just the rough stone it used to be. Even if it does make me full of feels I don't know how to deal with.
Thank god there are gif's to express that at least.
Unfortunately this is where the suck begins. The revision and editing process. Oh how I loathe this part.
This is me when I realize I have to start fixing my story to make it readable. And I have to do this. Because let's be honest, all writers have bad habits. And I have some truly horrible habits. For instance, the word Began. I cannot begin to tell you how many times my character began to do something. I don't even know why I like this word. It's like a trumped up version of my norcal upbringing where everything was "and he was like, and I was like, and we were like." It bugs. it's horrible to listen to and worse to read so first things first, search and destroy all instances (or most) of the word began. And as I begin to fix this I start noticing all the other little flaws in my manuscript and I start feeling exhausted and angry. This is usually the point where my children and my animals and my spouse start begging for food and attention or my team starts losing the freaking conference championship and people really should be more wary about approaching me because this is what they're going to get. eff you seahawks. But eventually I fall back in my story and start finding mistakes and fixing them, and the story starts to flow better. I'm starting to be more proud of myself and my story and then comes the DILEMMA. THE SCENE. It's a perfectly crafted scene. Beautiful, poignant, hilarious and it makes me fall in love with my characters even more but there's a problem. it doesn't fit. It doesn't progress the story and it messes with the flow so...it has to go, even though it doesn't want to and I don't want it to.
no...but I shouldn't have asked you to go with me in the first place. I'll try to use you later, I promise! I know in the end I'll have crafted a better story. It's not just chipping away at the block of marble to reveal the masterpiece, it's more like mining that block of marble and smoothing it down before you even started, then regretting every chip and chink you have to make to find the masterpiece. You want to pick up all those little pieces of rubble from the ground and clutch them to your breast and apologize that they aren't good enough. There are writers who love the revision process and like it better than writing the actual story. I don't agree with them. Frankly I think they're nuts and find myself inexplicably distrustful of them. I mean come on, who likes editing? that's like...like liking to clean, something else I only do because I must but find little to no enjoyment in it.
But I can say that despite my grumbling and moaning, the version I have after my edits are done is so much more polished, that even if you never get to see the scene's I had to cut, it's worth it because I know all the work I do now will just allow you to see the sparkling gem underneath, and not just the rough stone it used to be. Even if it does make me full of feels I don't know how to deal with.
Thank god there are gif's to express that at least.
January 13, 2014
Review: Feudlings in Smoke by Wendy Knight
Feudlings in Smoke by Wendy KnightMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
I received an ARC of this book in exchange for a fair review.
Let me start off by saying if you haven't read Feudlings first, stop right now and go read that. This isn't a standalone, it's a companion novella. You won't really have a grasp on anything unless you do. That being said I was so happy to find out that Wendy was doing a book about Will, the brother to Arianna, the Edren Prodigy and the protagonist of the Fate on Fire series. Being locked up in a rebel colony for the entire first book, you don't get to see as much of him as I would have liked.
This book did not fail to deliver everything we were promised. You see how frustrating it is for Will to be away from his sister and unable to keep her safe even though his whole reason for existing is to protect her. He's the voice of reason and the moral compass that keeps Ari from buying the lies she was told her whole life. Without Will she wouldn't be a hero. The only disappointment I had was
SPOILER ALERT
(view spoiler)[ that it didn't cover Dani's betrayal and how he felt about the woman that he loved sacrificing his sister to save her own family. That was such a rich vein of emotion to mine that was left untapped, and we didn't get to see Will's badassery in the second battle of Adlington (hide spoiler)]
Despite my minor disappointment, I still gave it five stars for amazing creativity and for lots of awesome Will.
View all my reviews
And because I LOVE this series so much I want you to have a chance to read all of them. You can find Wendy Knight on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/authorwendyknight and you can buy Feudlings in smoke outright here. a Rafflecopter giveaway
January 12, 2014
Great News!
I am really excited to share something with all of you! I've recently (as in friday) signed a contract with the amazing SJ Davis of Crushing Hearts and Black Butterfly publishing to bring you Changeling.
Changeling was my very first book so it holds a really special place in my heart, and knowing that someone else saw in it what I did made my little writer's heart skip a beat. Okay a lot of beats. With a lot of screaming and jumping and really awkward dancing. Don't judge me.
I can't share any other details with you yet, not even the cover art (if you check in My Books, the cover that's there is a mock cover I did myself ages ago because I like playing around with cover art) but I promise as soon as I know something and am green lighted to share it with you I will. In the meantime I'm just excited to be joining such a great group of authors who have already been crazy welcoming and sweet to me.
I'm still working on Irresistible, my Gancanaugh story but I have a whole host of story ideas lined up to work on for you so rest assured that instead of getting a story out and having my imagination be satisfied and leave me alone like I thought it would, I've been besieged and have no plans to quite writing anytime in the near future and I plan to be much more active here too. Coming soon I'll have reviews of the new Wendy Knight novel Fuedlings in Smoke and the amazing Ruined from Jus Acardo and probably ARV-3 from Cameo Renae so get excited about some giveaways coming soon.
So yeah, a big fat thanks and I can't wait for you guys to read Cassie's story. Since it's crazy cold up here in alaska (we took back our polar vortex and it's now a nice -42 degrees and my car froze because I forgot to plug it in like a dummy) I'm going to curl up with my laptop and my iPod and get to work for you guys.
Changeling was my very first book so it holds a really special place in my heart, and knowing that someone else saw in it what I did made my little writer's heart skip a beat. Okay a lot of beats. With a lot of screaming and jumping and really awkward dancing. Don't judge me. I can't share any other details with you yet, not even the cover art (if you check in My Books, the cover that's there is a mock cover I did myself ages ago because I like playing around with cover art) but I promise as soon as I know something and am green lighted to share it with you I will. In the meantime I'm just excited to be joining such a great group of authors who have already been crazy welcoming and sweet to me.
I'm still working on Irresistible, my Gancanaugh story but I have a whole host of story ideas lined up to work on for you so rest assured that instead of getting a story out and having my imagination be satisfied and leave me alone like I thought it would, I've been besieged and have no plans to quite writing anytime in the near future and I plan to be much more active here too. Coming soon I'll have reviews of the new Wendy Knight novel Fuedlings in Smoke and the amazing Ruined from Jus Acardo and probably ARV-3 from Cameo Renae so get excited about some giveaways coming soon. So yeah, a big fat thanks and I can't wait for you guys to read Cassie's story. Since it's crazy cold up here in alaska (we took back our polar vortex and it's now a nice -42 degrees and my car froze because I forgot to plug it in like a dummy) I'm going to curl up with my laptop and my iPod and get to work for you guys.
December 2, 2013
Inspiration
Where do you get your ideas?
If I had a nickel for every time I've been asked that I would be able to treat myself to a pretty decent night out. The truth is there have been stories buzzing around in my head my entire life. Starting with my dolls (watch your daughters playing and tell me they're not creating stories in their heads, I dare you) and moving on to pen and paper stories as a teenager, to my early fan fiction offerings, a brief stint running a HP RP board which was an amazing experience for collaborative writing, now to writing original fiction, my mind is populated with stories.
Where I get them from is as varied as the stories in my head though. Changeling was spawned from a dream that I caught the barest glimpses of that gave me a quick peek into a full world that lives in my imagination. Irresistible came to me when I glimpsed the word Gancanaugh in my Celtic Mythology Dictionary. And now of course theres yet another story tumbling around in my brain born from the Aurora dancing in my backyard and Passenger's Let her go playing on my iTunes radio station.
Stories can come from anywhere because they're coming from you, the writer, the dreamer. They live in your head waiting for you to notice them, breathe life into them and unleash them on the world. Give yourself a chance, write down your ideas when they come to you. Think about them, dream about them, you'll be amazed at what you learn about them.
If I had a nickel for every time I've been asked that I would be able to treat myself to a pretty decent night out. The truth is there have been stories buzzing around in my head my entire life. Starting with my dolls (watch your daughters playing and tell me they're not creating stories in their heads, I dare you) and moving on to pen and paper stories as a teenager, to my early fan fiction offerings, a brief stint running a HP RP board which was an amazing experience for collaborative writing, now to writing original fiction, my mind is populated with stories.
Where I get them from is as varied as the stories in my head though. Changeling was spawned from a dream that I caught the barest glimpses of that gave me a quick peek into a full world that lives in my imagination. Irresistible came to me when I glimpsed the word Gancanaugh in my Celtic Mythology Dictionary. And now of course theres yet another story tumbling around in my brain born from the Aurora dancing in my backyard and Passenger's Let her go playing on my iTunes radio station.
Stories can come from anywhere because they're coming from you, the writer, the dreamer. They live in your head waiting for you to notice them, breathe life into them and unleash them on the world. Give yourself a chance, write down your ideas when they come to you. Think about them, dream about them, you'll be amazed at what you learn about them.
October 30, 2013
WIP Wednesday
I cannot tell you how excited I am. This weekend I took some time off and sat down and finished my first novel Changeling. I was so excited I celebrated with a day of nothing but Vampire Diaries 
Of course now I'm back in "i hate it, it's awful, what have I unleashed?". Otherwise known as First Draft Syndrome. I know that's just panic and I just need to revise and edit (maybe farther into nano or after nano). But I figured it was worth sharing. :)
Rough Blurb*:
All nineteen year old Cassie Marshall has ever wanted was to find her place in the world.
When wakes up on her 19th birthday in a parallel dimension she feels she may have finally glimpsed her true purpose in life. She’s a changeling—a soul born into a human body, and she can pass through the Dreaming (where human dreams are created) and into the Otherworld. Now she has one year to decide whether to remain mortal or sever her ties and become an immortal Fae, standing guard over the dreams of sleeping mortals.
It’s an impossible choice. She has a family and friends, and a maybe boyfriend, Dom, on Earth, but the compelling and mysterious Fae Aleksander desperately wants her to become an immortal and join him in the Otherworld. But her choice won’t matter if the rumors are true. There is an Erlking, an elf twisted by thousands of years trapped in the mortal realm, finds her and devours her soul to steal her magic before she can make the choice at all.
*credit to the amazing Megan Thomason for penning most of that.
Excerpt:
I stripped off my clothes as I entered my room, a smile tugging at my lips as I thought about Dom’s smile and the feel of his warm lips on my cheek. Becca and Mikey had teased me the whole way home about it. She had been after me for years to start dating, determined that I should have more experience under my belt than that one awkward kiss after prom with Jeremy Woods, my even more awkward high school crush. I changed out of Becca’s clothes and slipped on a large maroon and white Chico Wildcats tee shirt, massaging my aching feet.
I was very happy with how my day had turned out after all. I climbed under my blue and white quilt and turned on the television, letting the reruns lull me to sleep. I closed my eyes, thinking about how grateful I was to have friends who cared about me, even if they were pushy and bossy. No girl could ask for more.
The sounds of waves lapping at a shore startled me. My eyes snapped open and I realized suddenly that I was no longer in my bed. I flexed my fingers and my toes, feeling the something course and gritty beneath them, the smell of salt and ocean filling my nostrils as I inhaled shakily. I sat up slowly, my heart racing as I struggled to remember how I had gotten to this place when only moments ago I had been warm and snug in my bed in a locked apartment hundreds of miles from any ocean. Maybe it had only seemed like moments ago? Had someone slipped something into my drink? I mentally recounted my evening before I discarded that theory. I had kept an eye on my drinks the whole time and never let anyone else near them. It was clubbing safety 101. Even if I hadn’t, Becca and I were fastidious about locking our doors and setting our alarms. No way could anyone have gotten into the apartment without waking me up first.
I glanced around trying to get my bearings, and found that I was sitting on what otherwise would have been a lovely beach. It was still nighttime and the moon was up, large and luminous in the sky, lighting everything until it was as bright as day. I stared at it, trying to figure out what it was about the moon that seemed so off. I breathed in sharply when I realized that it was far larger than I had ever seen it, filling the night sky. In the distance I could make out what looked to be a second moon and it startled me, and then comforted me when I realized what it meant. This was all just a dream after all.
I stood up slowly, my bare toes stretching and digging into the sand beneath me. My feet didn’t hurt anymore. I was wearing a long, gauzy white shift, the hem skimming the tops of my feet and leaving my arms bare. The air was warm and smelled of salt and sea, stirring my unbound hair and brushing it over my face. This place felt familiar to me and I wondered if I had dreamed of it before. Sometimes in my dreams I would feel a sense of déjà vu but this was much stronger than it had ever been before.
I started walking down the beach, my eyes feasting on the scenery around me and marveling at how beautiful it all was. The beach continued as far as I could see, curving to the right. The sand was fine and sparkling in the moonlight, water gently lapping at its edges. I couldn’t see anything in the distance but water and the two large moons. To my left was lush green grass leading to what appeared to be a thickly wooded forest with hills and what appeared to be snow covered mountains in the distance. The whole scene looked like something out of a fantasy painting, so unreal and yet so detailed and vivid at the same time.
I was so absorbed in my surroundings that it took a few moments to realize that I was not alone, and I stopped suddenly when I saw the figure standing a few yards away. I wondered how I had not noticed him until now. Had he even been there before now? Standing just outside the tree line was a young man dressed in white linen trousers and a loose white shirt, open at the neck and cuffs. He had shaggy hair, the color of summer wheat, curling haphazardly around ears that stuck out just a little and a narrow, angular face with high cheekbones, a straight roman nose and a strong square chin. The stranger smiled at me in a welcoming manner and began walking towards me as I eyed him warily.
As he drew closer, I could see he had wide set eyes, as vivid a green as my own, dancing with amusement and crinkling at the corners. I blinked and stared at him. Eyes exactly like mine. I had never seen eyes like mine before and I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
“Cassandra,” the strange man called his voice deep and melodic at the same time. My heart skipped a beat when I heard my name on his lips. “I am so glad you have finally come.” He walked towards me, all grace and easiness that reminded me of a cat, and I had to remind myself to breath, chiding myself for being nervous about a strange man in a dream.
“Do I know you?” I asked as he stopped in front of me, smiling down at me in a familiar manner. I frowned at him in return. He was taller than I was, my head not quite reaching his chin and I had to look up at him, resisting the urge to stretch onto my toes to get a better look at his eyes.
“Not yet,” he admitted, “But I have been waiting for you nonetheless. My name is Aleksander. I am your Caomhnóir.”
mind you that will probably change, like a lot, but I wanted to share a tiny piece of what I've been so fired up over for nearly two years. :D Now I can start nano with a clear mind!
Of course now I'm back in "i hate it, it's awful, what have I unleashed?". Otherwise known as First Draft Syndrome. I know that's just panic and I just need to revise and edit (maybe farther into nano or after nano). But I figured it was worth sharing. :)Rough Blurb*:
All nineteen year old Cassie Marshall has ever wanted was to find her place in the world.
When wakes up on her 19th birthday in a parallel dimension she feels she may have finally glimpsed her true purpose in life. She’s a changeling—a soul born into a human body, and she can pass through the Dreaming (where human dreams are created) and into the Otherworld. Now she has one year to decide whether to remain mortal or sever her ties and become an immortal Fae, standing guard over the dreams of sleeping mortals.
It’s an impossible choice. She has a family and friends, and a maybe boyfriend, Dom, on Earth, but the compelling and mysterious Fae Aleksander desperately wants her to become an immortal and join him in the Otherworld. But her choice won’t matter if the rumors are true. There is an Erlking, an elf twisted by thousands of years trapped in the mortal realm, finds her and devours her soul to steal her magic before she can make the choice at all.
*credit to the amazing Megan Thomason for penning most of that.
Excerpt:
I stripped off my clothes as I entered my room, a smile tugging at my lips as I thought about Dom’s smile and the feel of his warm lips on my cheek. Becca and Mikey had teased me the whole way home about it. She had been after me for years to start dating, determined that I should have more experience under my belt than that one awkward kiss after prom with Jeremy Woods, my even more awkward high school crush. I changed out of Becca’s clothes and slipped on a large maroon and white Chico Wildcats tee shirt, massaging my aching feet.
I was very happy with how my day had turned out after all. I climbed under my blue and white quilt and turned on the television, letting the reruns lull me to sleep. I closed my eyes, thinking about how grateful I was to have friends who cared about me, even if they were pushy and bossy. No girl could ask for more.
The sounds of waves lapping at a shore startled me. My eyes snapped open and I realized suddenly that I was no longer in my bed. I flexed my fingers and my toes, feeling the something course and gritty beneath them, the smell of salt and ocean filling my nostrils as I inhaled shakily. I sat up slowly, my heart racing as I struggled to remember how I had gotten to this place when only moments ago I had been warm and snug in my bed in a locked apartment hundreds of miles from any ocean. Maybe it had only seemed like moments ago? Had someone slipped something into my drink? I mentally recounted my evening before I discarded that theory. I had kept an eye on my drinks the whole time and never let anyone else near them. It was clubbing safety 101. Even if I hadn’t, Becca and I were fastidious about locking our doors and setting our alarms. No way could anyone have gotten into the apartment without waking me up first.
I glanced around trying to get my bearings, and found that I was sitting on what otherwise would have been a lovely beach. It was still nighttime and the moon was up, large and luminous in the sky, lighting everything until it was as bright as day. I stared at it, trying to figure out what it was about the moon that seemed so off. I breathed in sharply when I realized that it was far larger than I had ever seen it, filling the night sky. In the distance I could make out what looked to be a second moon and it startled me, and then comforted me when I realized what it meant. This was all just a dream after all.
I stood up slowly, my bare toes stretching and digging into the sand beneath me. My feet didn’t hurt anymore. I was wearing a long, gauzy white shift, the hem skimming the tops of my feet and leaving my arms bare. The air was warm and smelled of salt and sea, stirring my unbound hair and brushing it over my face. This place felt familiar to me and I wondered if I had dreamed of it before. Sometimes in my dreams I would feel a sense of déjà vu but this was much stronger than it had ever been before.
I started walking down the beach, my eyes feasting on the scenery around me and marveling at how beautiful it all was. The beach continued as far as I could see, curving to the right. The sand was fine and sparkling in the moonlight, water gently lapping at its edges. I couldn’t see anything in the distance but water and the two large moons. To my left was lush green grass leading to what appeared to be a thickly wooded forest with hills and what appeared to be snow covered mountains in the distance. The whole scene looked like something out of a fantasy painting, so unreal and yet so detailed and vivid at the same time.
I was so absorbed in my surroundings that it took a few moments to realize that I was not alone, and I stopped suddenly when I saw the figure standing a few yards away. I wondered how I had not noticed him until now. Had he even been there before now? Standing just outside the tree line was a young man dressed in white linen trousers and a loose white shirt, open at the neck and cuffs. He had shaggy hair, the color of summer wheat, curling haphazardly around ears that stuck out just a little and a narrow, angular face with high cheekbones, a straight roman nose and a strong square chin. The stranger smiled at me in a welcoming manner and began walking towards me as I eyed him warily.
As he drew closer, I could see he had wide set eyes, as vivid a green as my own, dancing with amusement and crinkling at the corners. I blinked and stared at him. Eyes exactly like mine. I had never seen eyes like mine before and I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
“Cassandra,” the strange man called his voice deep and melodic at the same time. My heart skipped a beat when I heard my name on his lips. “I am so glad you have finally come.” He walked towards me, all grace and easiness that reminded me of a cat, and I had to remind myself to breath, chiding myself for being nervous about a strange man in a dream.
“Do I know you?” I asked as he stopped in front of me, smiling down at me in a familiar manner. I frowned at him in return. He was taller than I was, my head not quite reaching his chin and I had to look up at him, resisting the urge to stretch onto my toes to get a better look at his eyes.
“Not yet,” he admitted, “But I have been waiting for you nonetheless. My name is Aleksander. I am your Caomhnóir.”
mind you that will probably change, like a lot, but I wanted to share a tiny piece of what I've been so fired up over for nearly two years. :D Now I can start nano with a clear mind!
October 22, 2013
Nanoprep obsession
So I've been AWOL as I'm sure my exactly three readers have noticed. It was not intentional. I had it in my head that since Nanowrimo starts on November 1st, I was going to finish Changeling this last weekend. 75k words, I could SO do it! And I did, but the story isn't over. So my word count went up. And now I'm panicking. See, I could have been done faster except my Nano IDEA came to me. One word, one word was all it took to completely undo me.
Gancanaugh.
I knew what it was because I'm a bit of a mythology freak. Doesn't matter the culture it came from, if it's a myth, I love it. I keep books full of mythology and have a pretty decent one on Celtic and Irish myths because of Changeling. One of my favorites is an epic dictionary of Celtic Mythological Creatures which is where I found Gancanaugh and as soon as I read the description, the story hit me like a freight train. I can't get this story out of my mind. It's nesting and taking over and making it almost impossible to focus on my current story even though I can't start writing it for ten more days. So instead I'm torturing all of my friends by talking about this book, and the main character Liam like he's a real person. I'm sure more than one of them is confused and convinced I'm having an affair. I talk about my characters like they're real people because to me, they are. They're beautiful funny amazing people who just happen to live in my head begging me to give them a permanent home and Liam, Liam is fun to have living in my head. I think he's going to be even more fun living in yours.
So just to torture everyone, I'm going to share the two paragraph snowflake I wrote just to give you an idea of what's coming. Born in the 14th centuary, Ulliam "Liam" McCallum lived up to his name as a warrior for his people. Born during turbulant times he was courageous and ruthless in battle, drawing the attention of the Unseelie Court. Obsessed with him, a Fae named Aerona stole him away with the intent of claiming him. Liam rebuffs her advances for well over a hundred years, disgusted with her and desperate to return home. After hundreds of escape attempts, she punishes him, cursing him to the eternal life of a gancanaugh. He attracts women like flies to honey and his skin emits an toxin that is fatally addictive to the mortal women he will forever crave. Doomed to roam the earth, slowly killing anyone he touches until he can find one who is resistant to his touch and loves him enough to take his curse and carry it for him.
700 years later, Bridget Fisher is finishing up her Freshman year at the University of Alaska Fairbanks and getting ready for the Summer tourist season where the weather is perfect and the sun shines 24 hours a day. She has her whole life mapped out in front of her, none of which include the attentions of one overcocky frat boy with an enterouge of vapid sorority clones who doesn't seem to understand that she has no interest in joining his fan club. Liam has been waiting his whole life for someone like her and one way or another he's going to make her fall for him and free him from his curse. If that is, he can keep from wanting her for himself and bringing down the wrath of Aerona on both of their heads because he's finally learned his lesson. If Aerona can't have him, she'll make sure that nobody can. See? Just a simple little nano project to write out for my enjoyment because none of my friends are obsessing over them yet at all and it's not at all weird having a semi chauvenistic perv living in my head.
Gancanaugh.
I knew what it was because I'm a bit of a mythology freak. Doesn't matter the culture it came from, if it's a myth, I love it. I keep books full of mythology and have a pretty decent one on Celtic and Irish myths because of Changeling. One of my favorites is an epic dictionary of Celtic Mythological Creatures which is where I found Gancanaugh and as soon as I read the description, the story hit me like a freight train. I can't get this story out of my mind. It's nesting and taking over and making it almost impossible to focus on my current story even though I can't start writing it for ten more days. So instead I'm torturing all of my friends by talking about this book, and the main character Liam like he's a real person. I'm sure more than one of them is confused and convinced I'm having an affair. I talk about my characters like they're real people because to me, they are. They're beautiful funny amazing people who just happen to live in my head begging me to give them a permanent home and Liam, Liam is fun to have living in my head. I think he's going to be even more fun living in yours.
So just to torture everyone, I'm going to share the two paragraph snowflake I wrote just to give you an idea of what's coming. Born in the 14th centuary, Ulliam "Liam" McCallum lived up to his name as a warrior for his people. Born during turbulant times he was courageous and ruthless in battle, drawing the attention of the Unseelie Court. Obsessed with him, a Fae named Aerona stole him away with the intent of claiming him. Liam rebuffs her advances for well over a hundred years, disgusted with her and desperate to return home. After hundreds of escape attempts, she punishes him, cursing him to the eternal life of a gancanaugh. He attracts women like flies to honey and his skin emits an toxin that is fatally addictive to the mortal women he will forever crave. Doomed to roam the earth, slowly killing anyone he touches until he can find one who is resistant to his touch and loves him enough to take his curse and carry it for him.
700 years later, Bridget Fisher is finishing up her Freshman year at the University of Alaska Fairbanks and getting ready for the Summer tourist season where the weather is perfect and the sun shines 24 hours a day. She has her whole life mapped out in front of her, none of which include the attentions of one overcocky frat boy with an enterouge of vapid sorority clones who doesn't seem to understand that she has no interest in joining his fan club. Liam has been waiting his whole life for someone like her and one way or another he's going to make her fall for him and free him from his curse. If that is, he can keep from wanting her for himself and bringing down the wrath of Aerona on both of their heads because he's finally learned his lesson. If Aerona can't have him, she'll make sure that nobody can. See? Just a simple little nano project to write out for my enjoyment because none of my friends are obsessing over them yet at all and it's not at all weird having a semi chauvenistic perv living in my head.
October 14, 2013
Man Candy Monday
Mmm. I love me some man candy mondays. Okay so I just love me some mancandy any day of the week that ends in Y. It's why I write the kind of fiction I do. :) I mean come on, who doesn't love a good love story and in any love story you need a hero (of any gender or orientation just so we're clear) that can sweep you off your feet and make the butterflies dance in your stomach until you feel like you could alternately fly or vomit depending on the severity of your nerves. Someone that helps you imagine yourself in the story.
The fun question is, where do these heroes come from? I can't speak for other writers on where they get their heroes but I can tell you for me, they kind of come out of nowhere, just popping in my head one day to introduce themselves, and then antagonize me until I write their story and give them someplace other than my head to live. Right now there's a guy named Ulliam McConnell who is angry that I named him Ulliam and is insisting I call him Liam and start giving him an adventure, prima donna that he is. I know, common misconception says only crazy people hear voices but in my humble opinion, you're only crazy if you talk BACK. If you write them a story and give them a place to live, then you're just a writer and that's perfectly okay.
Because the thing is, I want you to love these characters the same way that I do. I want you, the reader, to swoon and obsess, to laugh and cry the same way I do when I'm writing their stories and believe me, i get emotional. There's a couple chapters in my current project that I bawled until I snotted on myself writing them. Kind of freaked my husband out. I tried to explain what was going on in my head, but of course he just hugged me, got me a cup of coffee and walked away mumbling under his breath about crazy women and crazy writers. He's not a big reader but it's okay because I read enough for both of us.
The truth is, I try and write books that I would want to read and I like to read books about love. About characters growing and finding strength in themselves and in each other and getting their happy ever after.
So I promise I will do everything in my power to give Liam a story worth writing. Both so you can learn to love him just as much as I do, and so that he moves out of my head because it's getting kind of cramped up here. He'd make a great book boyfriend.
Happy man candy monday! Feel free to leave a comment and tell me who your favorite book boyfriend is!
October 12, 2013
Indie author friday - The Premonition series
So my friend Lindsey texts me and tells me I HAVE to read this serise by Amy A. Bartol. I trust her judgement of course because without even trying, we have fairly identical kindle libraries. We read the same kinds of stuff and she carefully helps to breed and tend the plot bunnies that run rampant in my imagination, sorting out the runts from the ones that are going to grow into big beautiful strong stories. So anyway, when Lindsey told me I needed to read this series I said okay. (Okay so it's not that hard to talk me into reading something anyway. :D )
This is the first book in a 5 part series by Indie author Amy Bartol. The fifth book isnt' out yet but I'm looking forward to it now. You can find Amy on her website or onfacebook.
So let's start with the blurb:
My name is Evie Claremont and this was to be the making of me–my freshman year of college. I’d been hoping that once I’d arrived on Crestwood’s campus, the nightmare that I’ve been having would go away. It hasn’t.
I may be an inexperienced seventeen-year-old, but I’m grounded…sane. I look for rational explanations to even the strangest circumstances. Since meeting sophomore Reed Wellington, however, nothing makes any sense. Whenever he’s near, I feel an attraction to him–a magnetic kind of force pulling me towards him. I know what you’re thinking…that sounds fairly awesome. Yeah, it would be…if he liked me, but Reed acts as if I’m the worst thing that has ever happened to Crestwood…or him. But get this, for some reason every time I turn around he’s there, barging into my life.
What is the secret that he’s keeping from me? I’m hoping that it’s anything but what I suspect: that he’s not exactly normal…and neither am I. So, maybe Crestwood won’t be the making of me, but it could be the breaking of me. I’ve been left to wonder if the dark future my dream is foretelling is…inescapable.
It's also worth noting that this book is the winner of the UTOPYA 2012 award for best Debut Novel. It doesn't even read like a debut novel, it's clear that Ms. Bartol knows what she's doing when weaving this story.
I freaking loved this book. The voice is strong and Evie's character arc is so gratifying it's ridiculous. Evie goes away to college and meets this guy who, like many potentional paranormal suitors, is a dick. No really, he growls at her, smolders, tells her she needs to leave etc. You start off really wanting to just junk punch this guy into submission (note: Blog Author highly discourages junk punching of paranormals.) There's another character, Russell that I frankly like better. We'll just out it now and say I am NOT Team Reed. I don't like him because he falls into every bad paranormal romance trope that I hate but I recognize many people love him. See, because I'm sure you've figured out that Reed is the love interest in this paranormal romance because he's listed in the blurb. I like him, I just don't love him.
The true magic in this story isn't in Evie and Reed. It's in Evie herself. Evie isn't your average Paranormal antogonist. She becomes her own hero by growing as a person, finding strength in herself and eventually choosing to put herself in harms way to save those she loves. I love it when a girl can be her own hero. The characters she introduces are unique and interesting and you want to know more about them.
I loved the world she set this in. She brought this college campus to life and you can't help but wish for a moment that you had gone to Crestwood instead of going to Kaplan online. She paints a picture without drawing fine lines and limiting what you see in your imagination and it works so well. I can say for the rest of the series that she keeps the continuity of events that happen in the first book that seem minor, they play big parts later.
This book made me cry at several points in time and rage at others so I deem it a success. As a writer, you want your reader to feel what you feel when writing and she captures these moods so clearly you can't help it, she gets you right in the feels. I read this book in one sitting, not because it's short, but because I couldn't put it down. I had a horrible book hangover because I read the entire series in a single weekend. (I'm a speed reader but even that was pushing it) so when you read this, make sure you have TIME to read it.
What I didn't like:
Reed. I don't like Reed. But that's a personal preference. I was Team Russell for a long time, the last book introduced someone else that I like better. Lindsey is a Team Bad Guy and you'll figure that out in book two. He's memorable (and won the UROPYA best villian two years running!) Again personal preference.
I HATED the accents. For me it's enough to say "Reed has a southern accent". The Ya's and the Yer's were the only things that killed me in this book. I promise to never do that to you. Ever.
Overall I give this book 4.5 stars out of 5, withholding a half a star for the accent.
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