MariaLisa deMora's Blog, page 9

Hours and words: Labor of love

Here are a few odd facts that I find amusing.

According to Word, Mica took me 632 hours to write. That doesn’t include editing time, because I changed documents, but editing and formatting added another 237 hours.

If you consider that a typical work year for an 8-5 job is 2,080 hours, it’s kinda crazy that it only took that long to write. I wonder if Word counts the hours the document is left open, but not actively in focus, like research or when I fall asleep at the keyboard, or if it only counts when you’re actively writing or changing. Hmmm. Mica came in at 138,576 words, post edit.

Slate was 538 hours, and then add another 125 for editing. Formatting time is harder because Word kept making me save as, so the stats didn’t transfer from one document to the next. Word count is 138,870 post edit.

Bear is 530 hours so far, and no edits have happened. Word count is 126,868.

Jase so far is 94 hours, and I’m 33,452 words into the story.

Grand total hours since beginning this journey in January of this year is 2,156, and we have 437,766 words on the pages so far. That’s about 203 words per hour.

If I wrote at that steady pace eight hours per day, it would be 1,624 words a day. My books wind up in the 130,000 range, so that would indicate it could conceivably take 80 days to write each book. Therefore, if my math is right, I have another 60 days of work to do on Jase. If I only write 1,624 words a day (snort).

I better get crackin!

Like the comic? See more at Jen’s website: http://pancakesandwichdotbiz.tumblr.com

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Insecurities

Okay – so here’s where you get to totally laugh at me. I was in a Skype chat with a couple of employees today and had occasion to use the word ‘use’ directly after someone else used it.

Him: I expect to see that one in use.

Me: And, I expect to use it.

I suspect you already see where this is going.

First, I was all “is ‘use’ the right word?” because it suddenly looked wrong. You know the feeling, where you stare and stare at the word because there’s no way that’s a real word.

Then I read what he typed, and what I had typed aloud. Seemed right, but still looked wrong.

So then I Googled the word, found definitions, listened to the pronunciation … because it STILL looked wrong.

Then I realized what I had Googled was “use use and pronunciation” … which made me crazy because that was both uses of the word in one declaration.

So then, I ‘fessed up and told them what I was doing, which garnered a good laugh for them, at my expense. Because I can make a meal out of my insecurities. And using words incorrectly is one of my pet peeves (I’m up to #873 as of today). I’m one of those people who have words that they just can’t use or spell, so I avoid them like the plague. Like restaurant – I always, and I mean always, spell it wrong. So I use words like ‘eatery’ instead. Lame-o, I know-o.

What pithy bit of work business were were dealing with? I shared a funny. Not the best example of good work ethic, I know, but I’m the cool boss!

New Company Word of the Day

FOCUS

When you are annoyed with someone tell them to FOCUS

Fuck Off Cause U’re Stupid

And just for fun, here are the pet peeves that I itemized today. Cuz I’m weird like that.

Pet Peeve #872

Not being able to correct a misspelled word in the subject line of an email thread because then it breaks the continuity of the thread.

Pet Peeve #873

People who answer an email with a personal visit to my office so then I have to remember what they said instead of having an email to refer back to.

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Beginning Jase

Well, I told you all that Jase was beginning to talk to me, didn’t I? I started the outline last night and here we are, 24 hours later and we’re nearly 10,000 words in already. He and his woman have so much to say, it’s been a fun day trying to capture their thoughts and actions onto the page.

He’s a playful guy, so different from the Rebel Wayfarers he’s surrounded with, his focus is…different. His woman, now, she’s been part of the club for so long he keeps her off kilter because he doesn’t react the ways she’s come to expect. Topsy-turvy doesn’t cover it. Then there are always Mason’s machinations in the background; where is he guiding things this time?

Playlist so far has been lots of Lucero. Straight up Ben Nichols and Lucero with a clash of cultures and genres mixed in for fun. Seriously reflects the relationship, but we’ll see how this shakes out, too.

Ben Nichols – Tobin

Lucero – Hey Darlin’ Do You Gamble? @luceromusic

Ben Nichols – Toadvine

Lucero – Texas & Tennessee

Lucero – The Last Song

White Denim – I Start to Run @whitedenimmusic

Ben Nichols – The Last Pale Light In The West

Ray Gelato – Mambo Italiano

Lucero - Darby’s Song

Lucero - Slow Dancing

Lucero - Chain Link Fence

Lucero - I’ll Just Fall

Sugarland – Already Gone @Sugarlandmusic

Plain White T’s – Hey There Delilah @PlainWhiteTs

The Veer Union – The Antagonist @TheVeerUnion

Surrender The Fall – Deeper Inside @STFBand

The Weepies – World Spins Madly On @theweepies

Lifehouse – Breathing @lifehouse

Hellyeah – Sangre por Sangre @hellyeahband

Young Guns – Bones @YoungGunsUK

Frank Zappa – Brown Shoes Don’t Make It

We Are Your Father – Sarge

Emphatic – Get Paid @_EMPHATIC_

Matt Corby – Brother @MattCorby

Night Beds – Even if We Try @NightBeds

Pickwick – Halls of Columbia @PickwickMusic

Young Buffalo – Full Metal Whacket @YOUNGBUFFALO

This unconventional relationship is going to be fun to twist and twine. If the outline holds, we’re all in for a hell of a ride! At least we’re so early in the book that they go the direction they’re pointed without much argument so far. I’m sure those struggles will come in the latter portion of the book … Stay tuned!

~ML

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Bear – first-draft: Complete!

See that goat? –>

That was my face this morning when I typed the two best words in the English language:

The End

Bear, book #3 in the Rebel Wayfarers MC book series, is first-draft complete. He’s had me up and at it both early and late nearly every day over the last week, and with every writing session I whittled down the number of remaining scenes until this morning I simply finished, slumping back into the couch because he was silent for the first time in months!

Nearly two weeks ahead of my self-imposed deadline, I want the story to “rest” for at least three weeks before I jump into self-editing. The book is due to the editor the third week of October, so that gives me nearly a month to tweak, tear up, revise, remove, read-aloud, and generally run amok with the story before I hand my baby over.

Beta readers will have it by early November, we’ll get it back, tweak some more … and then the tentative launch date is December 1. Stay tuned!

~ML

PS – Jase is already pushing for his story, and I can’t wait to share him with you all!

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1,000 Facebook Likes!!

Whoo hoo! We’ve reached 1,000 likes on the Facebook page!

As promised, here’s a hot taste from Bear, due for release in early December this year.

He reached up, his palms delicately cupping her jaw on either side of her face as he looked down at her. Kiss me, she thought and then grabbed her bottom lip between her teeth to help steady her breathing.

Lowering his mouth towards hers, he hesitated before touching her, hovering there for seconds. Goddammit, kiss me, she thought wildly, and then impulsively rose on her toes to press her lips to his, provoking a response as she closed the distance between them.

His reaction was delayed, but then his mouth began moving over hers, lips softly working against her as he deepened the kiss leisurely. Dragging his tongue across her lips, he groaned into her mouth when she opened to him, stroking into his mouth with her own tongue, letting it dance with his. His hands held her face tenderly, but she could feel the trembling in his arms, and heard his sharp pants for air as he strove to retain control. Reveling in the knowledge that he was as affected as she was by the kiss, she slowly lowered from her toes and smiled against his mouth as he pursued her down, not letting her break contact for a moment.

He was kissing her as if his life depended on it; it was as if he was savoring every part of her mouth, his tongue flicking and flattening against her teeth, then her palate, tracing the shape and softness of her lips, devouring her with every movement. His thumbs slowly traced across her cheekbones, stroking in time with the efforts of his tongue, as it became a synchronized assault of her nerve endings, his every touch heightening the sensation.

She felt his pelvis pressed against her stomach, backing her ass into the seat of the bike. His hips thrust against her rhythmically, his erection outlined in his tight jeans, every drive timed with his attack on her mouth, with his touches on her cheeks, so that she became conscious of the layers of clothes separating their skin. Where he wasn’t touching, she felt the stroke of the air on her, that portion of her body now feeling bereft and abandoned. He was making love to her mouth, and she felt responsive echoes clenching deep inside.

Unaware of time passing, she had no knowledge of how long they had been standing in the parking lot, immersed in each other. Nothing mattered except the next rushed gasp of breath, the moans that came from deep in his throat and vibrated her down to her core, the evidence of his arousal hard against her stomach. The desire filled her with growing need, and panting hard, she reluctantly surfaced from the sensations drowning her when he slowed and stilled against her, his lips still covering hers, their huffs of breath mixing in their joined mouths.

Pulling back more slowly than she expected, but more quickly than she ever wanted, she felt him rest his forehead against hers and grinned when he rubbed his nose against hers. The skin around her mouth burned softly with the abrasion from his scruff, and her lips felt swollen and tender.

“Damn,” he said softly, dragging his lips across her cheek to the shell of her ear, tracing the edges there with the tip of his tongue. He slid one hand slowly down her neck and across her collarbone, cupping her shoulder and then trailing fingertips down to her hand, which he raised to his lips, holding her fingers captive in his hand as he folded it across his own cheek.

“Damn,” she agreed, looking into his green eyes, the dark pupils widely dilated with desire.

/fans herself

That was FUN to write.

Thanks peoples, every single day you make my fucking life better!

~ML

Haven’t read Mica or Slate yet? Links to Amazon:

Mica – Amazon.com/dp/B00L7H0W9O/

Slate – Amazon.com/dp/B00M4TEDCQ/

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What a weekend, writing with a Q&A

Well Crafted: Local Bands + Local Brews

Okay – so I wrote a ton during downtime this weekend. I don’t know if it was the music at Well Crafted, or the surroundings of the Shaker Village in Kentucky, but I was swept up with Bear, Mason and Slate. Of course, Mason was born in Kentucky, so maybe I was just in tune with the man. Every time I took a break from the fun I had my laptop and was writing. These men…mmm hmm. We’re nearing the finish line, if I can just keep the characters following the straight and narrow, but they keep wanting to take side tracks and explore. I continue to rein them in a little, but sometimes it’s fun to see where they go.

I’m gonna take a minute to answer a few questions I’ve gotten about the series and me (what?). Not all the questions, let’s keep this session to … say … six. Nice even number. (Shaddup, Hols, I know I have a problem.)

1) Yes, each book is intended to be able to be read as a standalone. You don’t have to read Mica to enjoy Slate, and vice versa.

2) Yes, there is timeline overlap between all the books. These characters are so intertwined and important in each others lives that we can’t not. The point of view is unique to each book, through, so for someone that reads all five books, the characters and events will have depth and nuance that you can’t get from one book. It’s like life, every interaction is unique for the individuals that live it, and if you get every perspective, you fill in the layers to find an entirely different picture.

3) Yes, there is another set of books planned to follow this one. The theme is still secret, but you might still get to see these folks we now love.

Me & Ben Nichols from Lucero (Ben FREAKIN’ Nichols!)

4) Maayyybe… some of the scenes are from my life. Like the sheep dip scene in Slate? Totally happened to me. Shortest job I ever held, four hours. I was young and crazy, what can I say? So let’s say, I write in a character that happens to meet Ben Nichols, you will all know that it happened–Just. Like. That!

5) No freakin’ idea, if I’ll ever do an author event. I have a full-time job and am parent to a young adult with autism, so travel has to be carefully planned.

6) No, I don’t mind if you message me! I like it, because it’s validation! You like my books? Hells yeah, I wanna know! I actually met a fan in Fort Wayne a couple weeks ago. I don’t know who was more excited: 1 – Her, because she got a picture with me, or 2 – Me, because I met someone I didn’t know who had read and LIKED my book!

Okay – Q&A is over, I’m back to Mason, he’s got a decision to make and I hope he lets me guide him in the direction in which he needs to go. I never know about that man, he’s alpha and ornery!

Here’s a pano taken during the last song in Ben Nichols’ set; the moon had just come up, and the fireflies were beginning to light up the field around us as he finished up. I had SUCH a good weekend!

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Why did you start writing?

People ask me sometimes what made me begin writing creatively at my age. (I know! I look at them like they’ve just insulted the Queen, too. ‘At my age?’ really?) It’s something I’d never done, and I don’t have a straightforward answer to that question, but I think I can explain somewhat, at least so you can get the gist of it.

About eight months ago, I woke up with an idea in my head. No, actually it was before that where things began changing, which lead to the idea in my head. So about a year ago, my youngest started college, and I was home alone. Nope, it was before that, too, when I had an epiphany, and decided to change things out. May 2013, my youngest graduated high school. Yeah, that’s a good starting point. Here we go.

Actually, I just woke up one day…

May 2013, my youngest graduated high school and we had a party. Lots of friends and family came from all over; from states and states away they drove to celebrate with us. I looked at my kids and family, seeing polished and accomplished people, filled with life and love, passionate about how they spent their lives. I hadn’t held that kind of passion in myself for a long time, and I realized I missed it. I missed being excited about something happening in my life, missed caring about events and people. So I made myself a promise, and I found a quote that I kept on my phone, “Actually, I just woke up one day and decided I didn’t want to feel like that anymore, or ever again, so I changed. Just like that.” I looked at that quote every day for a couple of months, as things in my life changed around me.

My son went to a special needs program for the summer. He was gone for five weeks, the first time in his life he’d been away for that long. The first couple of weeks I sat home, on the couch. I did homework, read books, watched TV, but didn’t feel passionate about anything I was doing. I hadn’t changed anything. I looked around and found there were few things in my life that I did feel passionately about. My family, yes. My work, yeaahh, maybe. Some days. My education, nu huh – means to an end. What did that leave me?

I love music. I always have. High school band, play lots of different instruments, go to concerts – love music. Okay, that’s something I could get passionate about. So, I went to a local show. The band wasn’t that good, but I still left there with a smile on my face that hadn’t been there when I went inside. Maybe I was on to something?

Fall rolled around, my son left for college. Home alone again, but now I wasn’t content to sit on the couch alone. I have a problem with crowds, though. They freak me right the fuck out. I get panic attacks if there are too many people, ‘s why I won’t even go to the mall after Halloween. Too. Many. People.

Research to the rescue! I found several small venues within a couple hour radius and started tracking which bands were playing. Found a show and went, and loved it. Again, I left with that shit-eating grin on my face. Yeah, this I could do! (fist pump)

What else do I like? Hockey. But the crowds. Ugh. Our local ECHL team, the Fort Wayne Komets, had a series of games at home, and I bought tickets to all of those games, selecting a seat on the glass directly behind the players’ bench. Nice view of the ice! Yeah, right. Nice view of the players’ asses was more like it! Okay, I could do this, too.

Game one, hoodie up so I couldn’t see much except directly in front of me, and earbuds in, blasting music so I couldn’t hear the crowd. Yeah! I could do this! I left that game with the same shit-eating grin. I could change myself, not just let things change around me.

Be a fucking wolf…

I found another saying that resonated with me, “Be a fucking wolf. Be a fucking lion. Take no shit. Set goals. Smash them. Eat people’s faces off. Be a better person. Never apologize for being awesome. Stay the mother fucking course.” Popped that one on my phone as the background, thought about what it meant to me every time I looked at it.

Work was crazy, too many hours, too many projects…the holiday season snuck up on me and I wasn’t ready, I didn’t have the energy to do anything. For the first time in my life I hung no lights, had no tree, and barely bought presents for folks. Clearly I hadn’t changed enough.

But…about eight months ago, between Christmas and New Year, I woke up with an idea in my head. It was the potential for a story about a strong woman who was successful in spite of having hard shit thrown at her all throughout her life. A woman who was passionate about things in her life, about the people. A woman who had changed. Just. Like. That.

I didn’t know what to do about it, so I did nothing. For a couple of weeks at least, I just noodled on the idea, dreamed about the woman, began seeing the other people in her life, found a hero. I decided I needed to get it out of my head, so I wrote out a brief outline of the story, saved the document, and went back to my life.

Still dreaming about the woman, I’d wake up with a shit-eating grin because she was so sassy and bossy and great. And the men in her life were great, too. Shit-eating grin from dreams. Huh.

I worked up a character development document, fleshing out the protagonists and antagonists of the story. I was creating connections between characters as they started to come to life, their personalities staring at me from the screen. Shit-eating grin. It still wasn’t enough, the story was beating at my brain, wanting out. I launched myself into a series of concerts and games, because this wasn’t something I thought I could do. Write? Are you kidding me? I speak technology, not fiction. I can talk hockey, but had no idea how to build from event to event in a story-arc. Who was I trying to kid? But, what if I could?

I took a Saturday, nothing else going on, and sat on the couch with my laptop, pulling up a blank document. I closed my eyes and began typing, just vomiting onto the page. I couldn’t type fast enough, entire sections of sentences were missing because my brain was going so much faster than my fingers could follow. Fourteen hours later, I realized I had to PEE, and when I got back to the couch, I looked at the word count and was astounded to find I’d written nearly seven thousand words. Holy shit! I read back over it, filling in the gaps where I’d gone too fast, correcting spelling and grammar, guessing at the sentence structure stuff, because I’d never done this before. All the writing I’d done was for a class, or for a business report, which are both totally different from building a story from the first paragraph, first sentence, first word.

About four hours later, I had the outline in the document as chapter headings, with brief summaries for each of them and I was hooked. It was crazy, but this felt like what I was meant to do right now in my life. I had a story that I wanted to write, and I had started. Just. Like. That. Stay the mother fucking course.

How to be a better writer

I wrote every day. Another image inspired me, this one repeated the same information again and again, and repetition works for me! I wrote in silence, not telling anyone what was going on with me. I went to concerts and games by myself, and folks already thought I was crazy for that. So, why give them additional ammunition? My son was home, resident student didn’t work out, but he was busy reconnecting with friends, and easy with everything.

What else could I change? I’d always liked hiking, and had managed several short trips over the past few years. Hmm. I started planning and training for a much bigger endeavor, looking at the Georgia section of the Appalachian Trail. Go big or go home, right? And I wrote, every day. The story was taking shape under my flying fingers and I found fresh energy with every chapter. I met musicians and athletes, made crazy connections and friends that I’d never have expected, and the story was still just…Beating. At. My. Brain.

I still dreamed about the woman, but the other people in her life now had just as big a part of my nocturnal noodlings, and I could see where some of them were deserving of their own story. They were vibrant and filled with life, and I woke most days with that damn shit-eating grin on my face. Fucking awesome, man. I wrote every day, even if it was just a couple hundred words, I wrote their story down on the paper. Some days I’d review what had gone before, and I’d find discrepancies so I created a continuity document, so I’d have something to refer to, because as a reader I knew that kind of lazy shit made me crazy. I also started a timeline document, because there were so many people to keep track of now.

At about sixty thousand words, I told my best friend what I was doing. I actually typed out the IM about four times before I hit send, because I was afraid she’d think I was crazy. Or making shit up. Tentatively I asked if she’d want to ever read it, maybe, possibly. She agreed and I sent over the document and started chewing at the inside of my cheek. An hour later I had moved on to my fingernails and then I had to ask her what she thought. She’d liked it so far, which made me let out a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding. Actually, I asked her if there was suckage, and she said no suckage, which I interpreted to mean she liked it so far, but yeah…like that.

She finished it. And she wanted more! Holy shit, seriously? Okay. I wrote every day, I had more by then. Email sent, I went back and re-read what I’d written so far, and decided to add in a couple scenes, flesh out a couple characters more because I knew they now had a bigger part in the last half of the book. Yeah, at seventy-five thousand words, I knew it was about half-way done. Holy shit.

GFDA coasters

I had her re-read the parts that I’d changed. She liked it, gave me honest critique, and the story became better. Some days I felt consumed by the characters, and I’d plot out things while I hiked around town, still preparing for my big Georgia trip in early May. I did a smaller trip to Knobstone in April, and being away from the story for that long nearly killed me. Those were the first days in months that I hadn’t written, but the break was healthy, I think. I found a great website with products that spoke to me, and bought coasters from them to scatter around my life that reminded me to keep taking chances. I surrounded myself with supportive messages that reminded me to change. Just. Like. That. Stay the mother fucking course. Take a fucking chance.

I finished the story not long after I got back from that short hiking trip. Hollie, my friend, and I read the story that had become Mica, end-to-end, and we both deemed it good. I’d asked another friend at work to read it, and she said it was good, too. I asked my oldest daughter to read it, and she gave me the biggest compliment. She said she kept forgetting that I had written it, that it could be a story she’d bought to read. Meanwhile, I’d started writing a second book, and had plans for three more after that. Because the stories just kept beating at my brain. But I couldn’t imagine that people who didn’t already know and like me would want to read what I’d written. No way would they pay for this. But just in case, I looked for an editorial service and started down that path, which wound up with the book being ready right when I was.

Several WTF

So that kinda brings us up to date. In eight months, I’ve written more than a half-million words, and have two books for sale. Seriously, I’m living at a rate of several WTF an hour! This is not my life! I’m not meant to be friends with musicians, be on first name basis with authors who I’ve fangasmed over for years, talking to famous photographers about images for book covers, and having my picture on places like Amazon and Goodreads and Shelfari. Not me! WTF?

Mica, book #1, and Slate, book #2, are both released and live on Amazon, and have both been best sellers, appearing on more than one Top 100 list there. As an author (crazy, right?) I’ve also appeared on more than one Top 100 list, which just blows me away. I’m over halfway done with book #3, Bear, and yes, he’s beating at my brain right now, yelling because I’m writing this and not his story! I read the reviews of the books written by readers, and am humbled and inspired by these marvelous people who have fallen in love with my characters…my thoughts, the ideas that strung together like pearls in my dreams, the stories that allowed me to pull them from the dark and into the light of day.

Why did I start writing? Because I couldn’t not.

~ML

 

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Blog tour end of August

Hey peoples!!

The last week of August, which will be here before you know it – the stores here have been selling back-to-school supplies for weeks now, there will be a blog tour to celebrate the release of Slate.

BookEnthusiastPromotions.com is the host, and Debra has got lots of things planned for the five-day event.

If you have a book blog and would like to take part in the tour, please fill out the form here:

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1CSuLYmepZrHoHXfysl57IOTdI2QJhcyvwQSSTcR8jKk/viewform?usp=send_form

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Slate is LIVE!

Are you ready for Slate? Available on Amazon, this is book #2 in the Rebel Wayfarers MC book series. A stand-alone novel, I hope you love it as much as I do!

US: www.amazon.com/dp/B00M4TEDCQ

UK: www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00M4TEDCQ

AU: www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00M4TEDCQ

CA: www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B00M4TEDCQ

Andrew Jones grew up in a small town in Wyoming, and as a teen watched his family implode following the death of his father. Driven by the need to provide for his little brother, he begins looking for work, restlessly traveling from job to job on his Indian motorcycle, seeking something he cannot define.

Meeting Davis Mason, President of the Rebel Wayfarers MC in Chicago is a pivotal event in his life, and over the following years he gradually becomes Slate, assuming the persona as first a prospect into Mason’s MC, then as a full patch member. He has finally found the brotherhood he longed for, a sense of connection and belonging…a family and home.

The only thing missing from Slate’s life is a woman who can love him…all of him. He finds his match in a daughter of the MC, and his dreams become filled with her silent smiles, unruly red hair, and soft curves. Slate works to gain her trust, but as their relationship slowly begins to grow, ghosts from their previous lives threaten to ruin everything and put the woman he loves in grave danger.

Can he save her from dangers drawn to her by the past, or will she and their love be a casualty of conflict caused by the club.

US: www.amazon.com/dp/B00M4TEDCQ

UK: www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B00M4TEDCQ

AU: www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00M4TEDCQ

CA: www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B00M4TEDCQ

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Want teasers while you wait for Monday?

I’m posting one teaser a day until #Slate goes live on Monday! You can see them on Facebook, go ahead and like the page while you’re there! http://www.

facebook.com/mldemora 

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