Teaser Tuesday! Snippet From My WiP

Um...yeah...I guess this isn't really a "teaser" since I'm an unknown aspiring author with zero people anticipating this novel, but...I needed something that went with Tuesday, okay? Okay. :)

So, I know you're all just DYING for a glimpse of my WiP, right?

*crickets*

Anyway. I've been TERRIBLE with my short stories this year. The plan was to write one short story a month, and I had planned on sharing them with you. Well, I shared my January short story with you, but I ...uh...haven't written once since. Heh. And since my brain won't work right now to come up with an actual post, and I'm in a particularly share-y mood, I'll share a small snippet from New Novel. You'll have absolutely no idea what's going on, of course, and I'm going to be cruel and leave it that way. Muahahaha :D

* * *

Nighttime. Magic. It’s as though a switch is flipped, an ordinary lounge turned magical lair. The daytime is almost too normal, as though the night is only a dream. As though I’ve made this whole life up in my mind. But then the night comes and allures us all, and we’re happy to be in the dream again. I let the customers in. I shiver. I listen to the music. I drink one of James’s concoctions. I watch the customers in their trance, loving loving loving this place as they slowly fade away. This is what normal looks like.

So why is there this gnawing in my chest, aching to break free?

I stand with my arms crossed, my ankles crossed, leaning against the column outside of the lounge. It’s nearly two in the morning—nearly closing time. We aren’t letting any more customers in, but it’s supposed to snow tonight and I want to wait for it. I want to be outside when it does. I remember being little, jumping in huge piles of snow, laughing with Julie as we froze in the icy white stuff but not caring a bit, because it was the most fun we could imagine. I would do that again, now. I would do it if I wouldn’t look like a fool.

I would do it if it didn’t remind me so much of Julie, and the person that I used to be.

The sky is dark, but there’s an almost red tint to it. The air is frigid and smells of snow. I watch the yellow-orange glow of the streetlamps, waiting to see a sign of snowflakes against the light. There’s nothing yet, but it should be soon, and I’m not tired.

Someone walks up to me and stands at my side.

I keep my eyes on the light as I say, “We’re closing.”

“I’m not allowed in, anyway.”

I don’t need to look at him to know it’s Leonel, but I do. His black jacket is fraying at the collar, his neck exposed. I wonder how he isn’t freezing. His guitar is a permanent fixture on his back, like it’s grown right out of him, like it’s part of him. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans, and he stares steadily at the streetlamp as though I’m not even there.

“What are you doing here? Did Papa call you?”

“No. I just finished a gig around the corner and wanted to walk by.”

I stare at him. He stares at the streetlamp. How is it that he stole my perfect moment and now I can’t even look at the streetlamp on my own?

“Why would you do that if we don’t need you tonight?” I say. It comes out a little harsher than necessary, but I don’t apologize.

He parts his lips and exhales, his breath forming a white cloud in the air. He finally looks at me. “No reason. I just felt like going for a walk, I guess.” His eyelashes are so thick they cast a shadow on his face, just under his eyes. I bet when it snows, the flakes catch on them like crazy.

I don’t know what to say, so I look back to the streetlamp. It’s not the same with him here, but we stand there together and wait. I’m waiting for the snow. I’m not sure what he’s waiting for.

Growing As A Writer

I think that sometimes, as writers, we tend to get down on ourselves and our writing. We can always improve, we can always fix something and write faster and try harder. Our prose can be better. Our plots tighter. Our characters more likable. Our premises more interesting.

I'm wracked with doubt every time I sit down to write. Doubt and hope. Doubt and hope. It's an endless cycle.

The other day I pulled out my first novel and read some of it. It's still a first draft, and I still love the premise, and I still think about going back to it one day, but...man, it's messy. And kind of scary. And pretty...bad.

But the funny thing is that I used to think it was awesome. (Ha ha ha!) And even though it sounds like I'm bashing myself, I'm not. This realization made me insanely happy, because I realized that I've grown SO MUCH as a writer since that first novel. All that angsting over the keyboard with the new novel has not been in vain. My writing is stronger than it used to be. (And will get stronger still!)

Not only that, but my first novel took me almost two years to write. Just the first draft. I'd write a page or two and think that was impressive for one day. (And hey, at the time, it totally was for me. We do what we can, and I finished the draft that way.) But now? I usually set a goal of at least 1,000 words a day. I never thought I'd be able to do that.

Somehow, during all that writing, even while I was doubting and getting down on myself, I was growing. And I didn't even realize it.

So today, I'd like to encourage all of you who might be doubting your work or getting down on yourselves. Everything you write--EVERYTHING--is helping you grow as a writer. Even that crap scene that you just cut. Even that piece of dialogue that made you cringe. Even that cliche that your CP nailed you for. It's all worth it and helping in some way.

So tell me, lovely friends: in what ways have you grown since you first started writing? What are you most proud of? For me, it's my word count, and the flow of my writing. It's not as choppy as it used to be. It's not perfect by ANY MEANS, but it's better. Definitely better.

There Are Teenagers In My Library!

So...um...this might be slightly obvious to you bookish and writerly peeps...but seriously, libraries are so cool! I mean, I knew this already. Libraries are full of books, and books are awesome, and therefore libraries are awesome. This is merely fact.

However.

Last week I got my very own, very first library card since I was a kid. It was like entering some kind of magical wonderland! Books, books, everywhere! People who love books! People who read books! People who love people who love and read books! I immediately gravitated toward the YA section and stood in wonder as I scanned the shelves. All my favorite authors were stocked. Books I've been wanting to read but haven't had a chance to buy yet were readily available. But now, I could read them for FREE. FOR FREE! Seriously? How is this amazingness even possible? (Yeah, tax dollars, I know. Shhhh.)

So, my new obsession is the library. I decided to indulge in this obsession last night, and so I packed up my laptop and my notebook, and headed to the most magical place on earth. (Sorry, Disney World--I still love you!) I sat at a table and opened my laptop, only to find the battery was dead because I forgot to charge it. Awesome. I was kind of in a bad mood until I heard something...

voices...

TEENAGE VOICES!

You guys, my library is full of teenagers!!! (Um, WOW that sounded creepy. *backs away slowly*)

But seriously. I was SO intrigued. I was in the perfect position to eavesdrop on real life teen conversation. This was RESEARCH, people. Research.

This is what I learned:

1. Some teenage boys are all about RULE BREAKING. There was one boy who INSISTED on using his cellphone even though the rules clearly stated that no cellphones shall be used in the library! But he was a rebel. He whispered into his cell phone, talking to "Chris" and telling "Chris" that he was with "Michelle" at the library. I think he might have said that he was with "Michelle" seven times. Which leads me to believe that

2. Some teenage boys are all about BRAGGING ABOUT GIRLS THEY ARE WITH. This boy clearly had a thing for Michelle. Or maybe Chris had a thing for Michelle and he wanted Chris to be jealous, perhaps elevating his social status? Who knows. All I know is that it was IMPORTANT that Chris know he was with Michelle.

3. Some teenagers LIKE TO PROCRASTINATE. They were supposed to be studying. Maybe they were even TRYING to study, but let me tell you...no studying happened. There was much joking, loud talking, illegal phone calls, and making of plans for after studying. At one point, Michelle even told the first boy (the one who called Chris), "I'm never studying with you again." Wise choice, Michelle, if you ever want to get any actual studying done.

4. Some teenagers are RISK-TAKERS. This is on a small scale, of course. I mean, how much risk is there in a library? But anyway, one boy was talking LOUDLY, and even using some choice expletives WITHIN EARSHOT of the librarian. Some teens shushed him, saying, "We're in a library!", but he continued until he finished his story. It was worth the risk.

5. Some teenagers are QUIET and STUDIOUS. Okay, this totally contradicts everything I just said, but there were other teenagers there that were not part of the group. They were alone. And they were quiet. They followed the rules. And they studied! Which leads me to believe that

6. Teenagers get more work done and follow more rules when they are ALONE, but seem to have more fun and take more risks when they are IN A GROUP. Astounding, no?

My conclusion is that teenagers are UNIQUE and INTERESTING and JUST LIKE US! But younger! Some are introverts, and some are extroverts! Some are loud and some are quiet! Some like to procrastinate and some like to study! And  yeah, some are more keen to breaking rules and taking risks. But that's why I like to write about them! That's WHY THEY ARE AWESOME! Aren't all good stories about taking risks?

Anyway, I'm sure there's much more to learn. I hope to make my library trips a weekly thing, and I really, REALLY hope there will be more teenagers that I can listen to. It's been eye-opening.

Also? Teenagers rock. I kind of want to make friends with them. Maybe that's the next step...slowly move my chair closer...laugh at someone's joke...gradually enter the conversation...suggest some BOOKS...

Or not. Would that be weird?

Thursday Things

Happy Thursday! Seriously...one day closer to the weekend. I don't know about you, but this week is DRAGGING for me. Working in an office is hard, you guys! How do you do it?!

Anyway, some things for this fine Thursday.

1. The rewrite. Oh, the rewrite. About two weeks ago I made the decision to scrap my WiP and start over. I'm hoping to have 15k done by the end of the month, but I can already tell that it was the right decision. It's the same but slightly different, and better. The beginning will have to be rewritten again during revisions, but I won't even think about that right now. I'm excited to start writing the really new parts that made me want to rewrite in the first place :)

2. I've finally, FINALLY started working out again. Wooooo! Okay, don't be too impressed, it's only a 20 minute kickboxing video 5 days a week. BUT STILL. I'm getting all kinds of crazy now, what with working in the office again AND doing some sort of physical activity! It's a seriously good workout and I can already see a smidge of a difference! Crunches also help. Abs, I WILL have you again!

3. I'm rereading The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater. I just couldn't help myself. I started reading another book, got through two chapters, and had to stop so I could visit Thisby again. Her writing style is just my favorite. If you haven't read The Scorpio Races yet, I highly recommend it!

4. I don't know if I've mentioned this, but our new apartment doesn't have a dishwasher. As in, I must HAND WASH all of our dishes. I will never, ever, ever take a dishwasher for granted again. But on the bright side, all that time with my hands pruning in hot water and suds is good novel brainstorming time! Right? Right??

5. I am obsessed with candles lately. Especially Yankee Candles. Though they are a ripoff, I will gladly shell out my money for the scent of Kitchen Spice wafting around the house!

6. This is my favorite song of the week, possibly the month. Makes me want to write a book about boys :)

It's Always, Always About The Writing

The writing itself is work. Hard, long work. Stop and go. Stop and go. There is no glamour in sweatpants and headaches and half-filled cups of coffee. No triumph in e-mail and twitter and blog checking. There is no power in procrastination. When the words are not coming, when the inspiration isn't there, when you'd rather be doing anything else.

Desk. Computer. Time slipping by while you bury your head in your hands, thinking this will never work.

Couch. Laptop. Time slipping by while you type, type, type. Read, delete. Type again.

Pen. Paper. Time slipping by while you scribble incoherently, hoping, hoping, hoping that you're getting it right.

The writing itself is work. But the moment your vision is realized on paper, the perfect word to convey the perfect meaning, plot points coming together like magic, the thrill of a character coming to life, getting lost in the world...you remember why it's all worth it. Why the doubt and stress give way to hope. Why the long, hard hours are also the most fulfilling. Writing lives in our souls, pumps through our hearts and flows from our fingers. It gives us something to yearn for and hope for and dream for and strive for.

Sometimes it's so easy to get caught up in The Other Side. I fall victim to this all the time, and honestly, it's silly. I haven't even queried yet--I'm not even close to it!--and I want to throw up when I think of my Dream Agent. I get jealous when I see people getting book deals. Yes, that's The Dream, that's what I'm working toward, that's what we're all working toward, but it all comes back to writing. Unagented, Agented, Published...it's all about the writing. That's what the focus should be on, always. It's where it starts and where it ends and will be there through the whole journey. If there were ever a time to linger, to learn, to explore and discover our style/voice/process, it's now. I'm talking to myself here, but maybe some of you can relate. Sometimes I just want to get the writing over with so I can do the NEXT THING...but even on The Other Side, the writing itself will still be the next thing.

So, I'm challenging myself to stop focusing so much on what happens after I finish New Novel and save that energy for writing it. To revel in the process, sweatpants, headaches, procrastination and all.

Guys, I'm excited. Writing is awesome.

Non-Writerly Friends, A Conversation

Here is a paraphrase of an actual conversation I had with an actual Non-Writerly Friend.

Me: Yum, dinner was delish. So glad we were able to get together!

Non-Writerly Friend (NWF): Me, too! Wanna go get some coffee somewhere?

Me: *checks watch, sees that it's 9:30pm* Um, actually, I need to get home.

NWF: Why??

Me: Um. You know that book I told you about? The one I'm writing...?

NWF: Oh, yeah....

Me: Well, I need to write it.

NWF: *stares* What?

Me: Yeah, this is my only writing time.

NWF: Oh. *pause* Just skip it tonight.

Me: *laughs* I would, but I can't. I get kind of upset if I don't reach my daily goals.

NWF: (???)

Me: Um, like a To-Do list, sort of.

NWF: (???) Coffee?

Me: Sorry, next week?

NWF: I don't want to go home yet!

Me: Oh. Um...

NWF: (???)

Me: (!!!)

NWF: (???)

Me: (!!!)

NWF: *stares* *blinks* Fine, I guess I won't FORCE you...

Me: *laughs* Sorry, it's late anyway.

NWF: Not really. You used to stay out with me!

Me: Yeahhhh. I just...*struggles for words*

NWF: (???)

Me: ...like...to write...now. *checks watch* *feels anti-social*

NWF: Fine. *sighs* *stares*

Me: *stares* *smiles* Okay, well, goodnight!

NWF: *pouts* Goodnight.

*hug* *awkward wave*

/end convo

I adore my non-writerly friends to pieces, but sometimes...they just don't get it. :)

I love you, writerly friends!<333

A Tough Decision

Current Mood: Angst

Current Music: The War Inside by Switchfoot

You know how sometimes you know something's not right, but you try to ignore it in hopes that it will go away? But it doesn't go away? And it kind of just gnaws at you slowly, until one day you're just a pile of ravaged flesh?

No?

That's...kind of how I feel. Maybe not that intense, I don't know.

Let me say this: I love my WiP intensely. Ridiculously. I have 48k and even though it's the hardest thing I've ever written and I don't know what I'm doing, I'm completely in love with it and I BELIEVE in it. So, so much.

Except. What I have on paper isn't my WiP. It's ragged shadow of my WiP. It's an ugly, writhing ghost of my WiP. It's an impostor. And I know, I KNOW that drafts are supposed to be like that. My first novel was like that. But this is not only ugly, it's totally, completely, utterly wrong. After angsting over it for weeks and weeks, trying to fill the plot holes, having major character revelations, realizing that wow this entire thing needs to be changed, I'm...starting over.

Yes, I know I could have tried to finish and then go back to rewrite, but honestly, I don't want to do that. I know that I'll finish this, so it's not a matter of pushing through just so I can finish the draft. The draft WILL get done, but it's a matter of what kind of draft I want to have. Do I WANT a draft that's so far from my story that I'll have to rewrite the entire thing at least once, probably more? Not really. And aren't I kind of already doing that, since I've already written 48k? I need a draft that resembles the story in my head, especially with all the recent changes. I can't continue the way I am if I want that.

Yes, I think I'll be able to salvage some of that 48k, but for the most part, my timeline is out the window. I'll need to make a new one and accept the fact that no, this probably won't be done by the beginning of Summer anymore.

But it will be better. I'll be happier. And one day the book in my head will all be written down and I'll get to love love love it as actual words, not just a vision. That's what I'm looking forward to, and that's what's keeping me going.