Before I reveal the winner of my "Does This Make Me an Author?" celebration, I'm going to pimp three new contests that have come my way that I'm excited about!
First, as you probably know, Shannon Messenger got an agent! Woohoo! To celebrate, she is giving away books signed by her agent-in-laws! Go! Now! Enter! And tell her I sent you!
Second, the uber-fabulous Kim Franklin is hosting a giveaway for The Wolf Within, a book published by Kristi Chestnutt, one of our blogging own! I'd really like to read this book, so don't enter.
Third, Christine Danek is celebrating her 100th Follower! And she's looking for a better term than follower. I like minions or legions, myself. Anyway, to celebrate, she is hosting an awesome giveaway including art, Hooked, and a giftcard! Suh-weet! Go and congratulate her!
Okay, so now for the winner of my contest...
*drumroll*
It's ME!
Haha, just kidding! I wouldn't do that. Or would I? *shifty eyes*
First, I'd like to thank everyone who entered. I LOVED the haiku, and I see that we have a lot of drinkers in the house. I like that. I like that a lot. If you didn't get a chance to read the haiku, you should hop on down there to the comments and do it!
I'm glad I didn't decide to choose my favorite haiku for the winner, because I'd be going broke right now shelling out prizes to everyone!
Enough, already, right?
Alright, so the winner chosen by randomizer.org is.....
Aching Hope from Slumpvis Musings!
Don't worry, Sonshine Music, I saw your comment and will send flowers anyway! Now, AchingHope, you need to tell me what color mug you would like, then email me your mailing address to dream.traveling(at)gmail.com.
BUT WAIT!
Because I love everyone so much, I decided to give away a SECOND PRIZE! *gasp*
Second Prize will be TWO BAGS of CHOCOLATE and a packet of seeds. Cuz they are pretty.
And the winner is....
Sarah from Falen Formulates Fiction!
You also need to email your mailing address (dream.traveling[at]gmail.com)
Thanks to all who entered!
And just an interesting tidbit...I did a few test-runs before today to figure out how randomizer.org worked, and AchingHope won 4 times. Seriously. The universe wanted you to win this contest!
I have big plans for writing today, so this is it from me. Ciao, lovelies!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
50/50
Day: 19
Goal: 19,000
Actual: 7,183
Finished revising/rewriting the first chapter of Eternal Spring. Full steam ahead tomorrow!
Last chance to enter my contest! You have until I wake up...and that could be late, folks, who knows? :-)
Teaser Tuesday
Health detox is going well, so far.
Manuscript detox...going slow. Quite slow, but I'm working on it. Thought I'd share a bit from my MMC's introductory scene:
***
A blast of cold air hit him in the face as he pushed open the door to outside, and a small flurry of snow swirled up at his feet in response to the change in air pressure. It was a good thing he had found the jacket, as the temperatures were only plummeting more each day. Blessed March. The transit station would be crowded with the homeless tonight, seeking shelter from the cold and worse.
He opened the heavy padlock binding the doors of his small outbuilding together with a chain as thick as his arm and let it all fall to the ground. The string hanging from the naked light bulb brushed against his face as he walked into the dark space. He tugged on the string. Nothing.
“Shit,” he muttered. The wind must have blown apart his cable splice again. The light cast from the streetlight was just enough to illuminate the doors and cast everything inside the space into even darker shadow.
He unsnapped the holster and wrapped his fingers around the gun's grip, then inched into the darkness, one hand groping blindly in front of him. His breath sounded harsh, like his lungs were screaming his presence for all to see, and his boots kept crunching gravel no matter how softly he laid down his foot. Damn worthless body.
His fingers touched metal, and he relaxed incrementally. Like caressing a lover, he ran his hands down the smooth surface to orient himself with its position, then swung his leg over and settled into the cold leather seat.
He inserted the key.
Something behind him crashed, and he rolled off the the bike, shoulder and leg absorbing the gravel's impact. Before he even fully landed, he squeezed off two rounds into the corner, muzzle flash clouding his vision with yellow floaters.
Holding his breath, he strained to hear any cries or whimpers, but only silence pervaded over the blood rushing in his head and gunshot ringing his ears.
Great. Overreaction much? He pushed himself back up, wincing at the dull throb that started in his left side.
With the motorcycle safely out of the darkness, he quickly chained the building back up, then got astride the machine and started the ignition. As it roared to life, exhaust vaporized in the freezing air. He checked the front-mounted automatic rifle while the engine warmed up, counted rounds and looked in the side pouch for backup rounds. There was no being too careful.
Settling on his helmet, Payette flipped down the face shield and wheeled the bike onto the street, then throttled up and shot forward. Several inches of snow already blanketed the street. He'd have to keep an eye on the weather, or he could find himself trapped at the station. With Sabine.
Maybe not such a bad thing after all.
Hunching behind the small windshield, he pushed his speed as high as he dared, eager to be through the city at night. Even with his precautions, things could happen.
The residential zone disappeared in a blink, and the four-lane commuter road began shrinking rapidly. He was entering the city limits now, coming in from the southwest side. Already he could see the faint orange glow from a remnant camp, the camp he was going to have to drive straight through. The automatic rifle glistened under the streetlights, primed and ready for action, but his stomach still clenched as the glow crept up higher on the horizon.
He drove through this particular remnant camp on a regular basis, but rarely at night. During the day they kept to the shadows, nothing but flashes of teeth and flesh in an alley or through a sewer grate. At night, they blossomed. They ravaged. They ruled.
This camp had at least three or four dozen inhabitants, and the cold weather drove them even further past the brink of madness.
The commuter road disappeared suddenly, funneling into a narrow two-way lane. Buildings bloomed up out of nowhere, looming silent monoliths casting ragged shadows from their burnt-out husks in the combined luminescence from the heavy, round moon and the increasingly bright fire light.
Payette throttled back on his speed to a more manageable level for city driving. There were no limits, of course; their police department had its hands full without worrying about the few individuals who were wealthy enough to have personal transportation. No limits, but this section of the city had been heavily affected by the riots so many years ago, and the decay had made its way into the streets. Some of the more poorly constructed buildings were crumbling, depositing large chunks of concrete on the sidewalks and roads, the steel frames twisting towards the sky like the gnarled fingers of a dying behemoth. Large cracks and ruts pitted the roads, and in some places, the asphalt was completely missing. Weeds that had adapted to the frigid temperatures had taken over, covering everything in a thick, coarse coat of brown and dark green.
***
Don't forget to check out my contest! Ends tomorrow.
Manuscript detox...going slow. Quite slow, but I'm working on it. Thought I'd share a bit from my MMC's introductory scene:
***
A blast of cold air hit him in the face as he pushed open the door to outside, and a small flurry of snow swirled up at his feet in response to the change in air pressure. It was a good thing he had found the jacket, as the temperatures were only plummeting more each day. Blessed March. The transit station would be crowded with the homeless tonight, seeking shelter from the cold and worse.
He opened the heavy padlock binding the doors of his small outbuilding together with a chain as thick as his arm and let it all fall to the ground. The string hanging from the naked light bulb brushed against his face as he walked into the dark space. He tugged on the string. Nothing.
“Shit,” he muttered. The wind must have blown apart his cable splice again. The light cast from the streetlight was just enough to illuminate the doors and cast everything inside the space into even darker shadow.
He unsnapped the holster and wrapped his fingers around the gun's grip, then inched into the darkness, one hand groping blindly in front of him. His breath sounded harsh, like his lungs were screaming his presence for all to see, and his boots kept crunching gravel no matter how softly he laid down his foot. Damn worthless body.
His fingers touched metal, and he relaxed incrementally. Like caressing a lover, he ran his hands down the smooth surface to orient himself with its position, then swung his leg over and settled into the cold leather seat.
He inserted the key.
Something behind him crashed, and he rolled off the the bike, shoulder and leg absorbing the gravel's impact. Before he even fully landed, he squeezed off two rounds into the corner, muzzle flash clouding his vision with yellow floaters.
Holding his breath, he strained to hear any cries or whimpers, but only silence pervaded over the blood rushing in his head and gunshot ringing his ears.
Great. Overreaction much? He pushed himself back up, wincing at the dull throb that started in his left side.
With the motorcycle safely out of the darkness, he quickly chained the building back up, then got astride the machine and started the ignition. As it roared to life, exhaust vaporized in the freezing air. He checked the front-mounted automatic rifle while the engine warmed up, counted rounds and looked in the side pouch for backup rounds. There was no being too careful.
Settling on his helmet, Payette flipped down the face shield and wheeled the bike onto the street, then throttled up and shot forward. Several inches of snow already blanketed the street. He'd have to keep an eye on the weather, or he could find himself trapped at the station. With Sabine.
Maybe not such a bad thing after all.
Hunching behind the small windshield, he pushed his speed as high as he dared, eager to be through the city at night. Even with his precautions, things could happen.
The residential zone disappeared in a blink, and the four-lane commuter road began shrinking rapidly. He was entering the city limits now, coming in from the southwest side. Already he could see the faint orange glow from a remnant camp, the camp he was going to have to drive straight through. The automatic rifle glistened under the streetlights, primed and ready for action, but his stomach still clenched as the glow crept up higher on the horizon.
He drove through this particular remnant camp on a regular basis, but rarely at night. During the day they kept to the shadows, nothing but flashes of teeth and flesh in an alley or through a sewer grate. At night, they blossomed. They ravaged. They ruled.
This camp had at least three or four dozen inhabitants, and the cold weather drove them even further past the brink of madness.
The commuter road disappeared suddenly, funneling into a narrow two-way lane. Buildings bloomed up out of nowhere, looming silent monoliths casting ragged shadows from their burnt-out husks in the combined luminescence from the heavy, round moon and the increasingly bright fire light.
Payette throttled back on his speed to a more manageable level for city driving. There were no limits, of course; their police department had its hands full without worrying about the few individuals who were wealthy enough to have personal transportation. No limits, but this section of the city had been heavily affected by the riots so many years ago, and the decay had made its way into the streets. Some of the more poorly constructed buildings were crumbling, depositing large chunks of concrete on the sidewalks and roads, the steel frames twisting towards the sky like the gnarled fingers of a dying behemoth. Large cracks and ruts pitted the roads, and in some places, the asphalt was completely missing. Weeds that had adapted to the frigid temperatures had taken over, covering everything in a thick, coarse coat of brown and dark green.
***
Don't forget to check out my contest! Ends tomorrow.
Monday, March 29, 2010
50/50
I'm still limping along, but doing better, now that I'm into revisions on my novel.
Day: 18 (right? I think so.)
Goal: 18,000
Actuality: 5,047
Like I said, I'm aiming for 10k a week in revisions, so hopefully I'll actually catch up and not feel like a total washout.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Detox
Please visit my "Does this make me an author?" contest celebrating the completion of my MS's first draft! Not too many folks have entered, which I guess is good for those who did, but don't be shy! Newbies, oldies, lurkers, all--please feel free to enter, even if it's just with your follower point!
I also reached 100 followers today, which is amazing! I never expected to have so many, especially not in 3 months! The kinship and connections I've made with all of you Bloggers is mind-boggling at times, and I love every minute of it. So thank you to every person who comes by, even if you don't leave a comment. It's nice to know that I'm not just shouting into the wind.
My next week or two may be a bit iffy. As spring is rolling in, we decided it would be a good time to do a full-body internal "detox." Granted, hubby and I are only 26 and 23 respectively, but we've been needing to change something in our diets, so I thought this would be a good way to implement a healthier lifestyle. As I'm always telling my friends, "slender" doesn't mean you're "fit" or healthy. It just means you're slender.
Now, this isn't a crazy lemonade detox or anything. It's a fairly gentle way of cleansing "bad" foods from your diet and replacing them with the healthy alternatives. I was a vegetarian for several years and have no problem giving up red meat; however, I do love my wheat-based products, and E likes his sweets.
Everything I've read says to expect to feel bad for a few days during the beginning of the detox, while your body is releasing all the toxins and trying to flush them out. I've had a monster headache all day, but I'm pretty sure it's allergy or female-related, as this is our first day of the Detox.
As a note, organic food is hella expensive! Can't wait for the growing months to get here...
Anyway, as I'm doing this body detox, I'm going to be "detoxing" my MS, too. My goal is to revise/rewrite 10k a week until I'm finished.
We'll see how it goes.
I also reached 100 followers today, which is amazing! I never expected to have so many, especially not in 3 months! The kinship and connections I've made with all of you Bloggers is mind-boggling at times, and I love every minute of it. So thank you to every person who comes by, even if you don't leave a comment. It's nice to know that I'm not just shouting into the wind.
My next week or two may be a bit iffy. As spring is rolling in, we decided it would be a good time to do a full-body internal "detox." Granted, hubby and I are only 26 and 23 respectively, but we've been needing to change something in our diets, so I thought this would be a good way to implement a healthier lifestyle. As I'm always telling my friends, "slender" doesn't mean you're "fit" or healthy. It just means you're slender.
Now, this isn't a crazy lemonade detox or anything. It's a fairly gentle way of cleansing "bad" foods from your diet and replacing them with the healthy alternatives. I was a vegetarian for several years and have no problem giving up red meat; however, I do love my wheat-based products, and E likes his sweets.
Everything I've read says to expect to feel bad for a few days during the beginning of the detox, while your body is releasing all the toxins and trying to flush them out. I've had a monster headache all day, but I'm pretty sure it's allergy or female-related, as this is our first day of the Detox.
As a note, organic food is hella expensive! Can't wait for the growing months to get here...
Anyway, as I'm doing this body detox, I'm going to be "detoxing" my MS, too. My goal is to revise/rewrite 10k a week until I'm finished.
We'll see how it goes.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
When in Doubt...
Don't forget to check out my "Does this make me an author?" contest!
As you're reading this, I am busy taking the G.A.C.E, the Georgia Assessments for the Certification of Educators, for Secondary English. I'm feeling pretty good about it, but well-wishes are still appreciated. This is the test required for teacher certification in Georgia, and it's a pre-requisite for the certification course I'll hopefully be starting in July.
In the practice test, they offer up this question for a short response: "What literary work did you find difficult and why?"
My first inclination, of course, is to write them pages upon pages about why writing my novel has been difficult, but alas--not exactly what they're looking for. (In case you're curious, if I do get this question, I'm either going to go with Faulkner's Absalom, Absalom! or Rushdie's Midnight's Children, which I would classify as the 2 hardest books I've ever read.)
As I've been proudly crowing from the rooftops for the last two days, I finished the first draft of my book Eternal Spring. Although I'm proud for completing an actual market-length novel, the poor thing is by no means a book, really. Its plot holes make lattice look sturdy. However, I have an excellent grasp on my main characters, and a really interesting (to me, at least) world and circumstance, plus a unique take from Greek mythology.
Thus, the revision. Which will probably be more of a rewrite, but no matter. Even if the only thing I can salvage from that MS are 4 names and an idea, I'm happy.
I spent all of yesterday retooling my plot. I laid a solid foundation, built the framework, and drew a complete blueprint. The best part is that this is going to be a single installation, not the first in a series like the original plot would have required. I tweaked my characters to align with the new plot direction, and I wrote out a 3 Act/3 Climax "outline."
Then I freaked out. I know how much time and effort I spent writing that messy, strewn-about manuscript. The idea of doing it all over again was terrifying.
Then I remembered something.
I remembered the name of a blog.
"One Significant Moment at a Time."
And I thought, "that's really good advice."
So, thanks, Nicole, for being as wise and inspiring as always, and for giving me a candle in the sudden cave-in of confidence.
I'll be taking it one significant moment at a time.
As you're reading this, I am busy taking the G.A.C.E, the Georgia Assessments for the Certification of Educators, for Secondary English. I'm feeling pretty good about it, but well-wishes are still appreciated. This is the test required for teacher certification in Georgia, and it's a pre-requisite for the certification course I'll hopefully be starting in July.
In the practice test, they offer up this question for a short response: "What literary work did you find difficult and why?"
My first inclination, of course, is to write them pages upon pages about why writing my novel has been difficult, but alas--not exactly what they're looking for. (In case you're curious, if I do get this question, I'm either going to go with Faulkner's Absalom, Absalom! or Rushdie's Midnight's Children, which I would classify as the 2 hardest books I've ever read.)
As I've been proudly crowing from the rooftops for the last two days, I finished the first draft of my book Eternal Spring. Although I'm proud for completing an actual market-length novel, the poor thing is by no means a book, really. Its plot holes make lattice look sturdy. However, I have an excellent grasp on my main characters, and a really interesting (to me, at least) world and circumstance, plus a unique take from Greek mythology.
Thus, the revision. Which will probably be more of a rewrite, but no matter. Even if the only thing I can salvage from that MS are 4 names and an idea, I'm happy.
I spent all of yesterday retooling my plot. I laid a solid foundation, built the framework, and drew a complete blueprint. The best part is that this is going to be a single installation, not the first in a series like the original plot would have required. I tweaked my characters to align with the new plot direction, and I wrote out a 3 Act/3 Climax "outline."
Then I freaked out. I know how much time and effort I spent writing that messy, strewn-about manuscript. The idea of doing it all over again was terrifying.
Then I remembered something.
I remembered the name of a blog.
"One Significant Moment at a Time."
And I thought, "that's really good advice."
So, thanks, Nicole, for being as wise and inspiring as always, and for giving me a candle in the sudden cave-in of confidence.
I'll be taking it one significant moment at a time.
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