Tag: writing

On January 16, 2019

This is a new series I’m working on that I want to share with all of you. Each week, I will post another chapter. I hope you enjoy it!

I can’t do this.

Alone in the dressing room, my heart was racing and my palms were sweating. What made me think I was ready for this? I was 25 years old – barely an adult – and yet here I was. Trying on dresses for a wedding.

For MY wedding.

I stared at the woman in the mirror, knowing she looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place her. Dark curls stifled in a French knot, lacy veil cascading over her shoulders, a sleek white dress hugging her curves. She was frozen in space and time, unable to move forward but unable to go back. Trapped in this room, trapped in planning a wedding, trapped in a life she wasn’t ready for and wasn’t sure she wanted.

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

Squeals of delight filtered through the door, snapping me out of my trance. I had to get out of here. This was all wrong, this was the personification of my nightmares. I tore the veil off my head, painfully pulling some bobby pins out in the process. I continued to yank at the rest until my hair was free and wild down my back. Then I twisted and contorted myself to reach the clamps holding the too-big dress on my frame so I could shimmy out of the lace and satin straightjacket. I left it pooled on the floor as I tugged my jeans up over my hips and zipped my hoodie.

Slipping into my shoes, I tiptoed to the door. God, I hoped the saleswoman wasn’t on her way back with more dresses. I didn’t want to knock her down like a linebacker, but by god, if she got in my way that’s exactly what was going to happen! Opening the door barely a crack, I peeked into the hallway. Another party of excited young women were gathered around a mirror, oohing and aahing over the teary-eyed bride-to-be in her enormous white flounces. My stomach clenched, trying to suffocate the terrified butterflies trying to burst free.

When I felt the coast was clear, I slid out of the room, pulling the door closed behind me. I strolled down the hall, my hood pulled close over my head. The exit sign was right in front of me, just at the end of the hallway – I was almost out! I was in such a panicked state that I hadn’t stopped to think about my mom, my sisters, my best friend, waiting in the lounge for me. They’d be so freaked out when they realized I was gone.

Eh, they had champagne to entertain them – they wouldn’t miss me for at least another hour.

Three feet from the exit, I heard Janice, the sales attendant, calling my name.

“Alexis! What are you doing out here? Can I help you find something?”

Shit. I was SO CLOSE. I spun around with what I hoped was a pleasant expression.

“I was looking for the bathroom…?”

Janice forced a smile and inclined her head to my left. “Right there.” The smile didn’t reach her eyes and her voice was falsely upbeat. I didn’t blame her. She was nearly buried in a pile of new dresses for me to try on after putting up with my shenanigans all morning. I had been pretty difficult: One dress was too big, another was too slutty, the next accentuated my many lumps and bumps. I had shown my entourage one dress in more than an hour.

Janice probably hated me, and with good reason.

I shrugged an apology and ducked into the bathroom. Leaning against the door with eyes shut, I waited, counting to ten. That should be enough time for Janice to get back to the room so I could escape without her seeing me.

A sudden rapping on the door made me jump.

“Oh, Alexis? I brought five more dresses to the room – I know THE ONE is in this batch! I’m not sure if you remember the room number so I’ll just wait here for you!”

Great.

Opening my eyes, I glanced around, deciding to make myself comfortable until I could come up with an excuse to cut this torture short. Diarrhea? For sure. She’d probably shove me out the door herself. I just needed to give it a few more minutes to make it believable. Then my eyes landed on the window and another idea started to form.

It didn’t take much effort to pry it open – I just hoped it wasn’t hooked up to some security system that would give away my hasty retreat. There wasn’t a whole lot of room to squeeze all my parts through, but at least the window opened into a deserted alley. Over a closed and fairly clean dumpster, no less. With a little effort, I was able to shimmy through the opening onto the lid. Once on the ground, I straightened my sweatshirt, fluffed my hair, and slipped my purse over my shoulder.

Then I ran like hell.

Have You Met…Derek Franklin

On January 14, 2019

Editing is coming along slowly, but I am enjoying getting to know my characters all over again! Previously I introduced you to Katie Parker. Now I’d like you to meet her delightful boyfriend, Derek Franklin.

Growing up in San Francisco and traveling extensively for work, Derek finds Katie’s small-town demeanor fascinating. Where she is quiet and awkward, Derek is charming with self-confidence oozing out of every pore. He is beautiful, turning heads everywhere he goes. More than once he is compared to sunshine – when he turns his attention to you, you can’t help but respond to the warmth. Women want him, men admire him, and mere mortals long simply to be near him.

I immediately saw Derek as the exquisite and adorable Chris Hemsworth. To be honest, I never paid attention to the actor until Thor: Ragnarok and his portrayal of Kevin in Ghostbusters. Seeing a far less serious side of him made him exponentially more appealing, and I definitely see that in Katie’s relationship with Derek.

But Derek has secrets. There is another layer to him, one that few get to see. Only Katie knows the way he manipulates and controls the people around him. While she sees glimpses of his darker personality, Katie is shocked when she learns the truth about him. Underneath the dazzling smile lie shadows that only come to light when it’s too late.

Derek Franklin is the perfect boyfriend, the perfect employee, the perfect male specimen. But Katie soon comes to realize that when you get too close to the sun, you can get burned…

Behind The Scenes: Editing Week 1

On January 9, 2019

Every author I have spoken with decries editing as the worst part of writing a novel. They pour their blood, sweat, and tears into writing for weeks (NaNoers) or months (normal people), creating stunning images and weaving fantastical tales with their words. Then they are asked to take this beautiful thing they love and ruthlessly slash and burn until it’s barely recognizable.

Yep. That’s where I am right now.

This is my first time editing a novel. I wrote one years ago, I got feedback on it, then promptly put it on a literal shelf and haven’t looked at it again. The daunting task at hand is to pare down my monstrous 163,000-word giant baby into an entertaining and coherent story. I started editing earlier this week and I have to admit it’s slow going.

I’ve edited 10% so far and am 0% confident that I’ve made it better.

In an attempt to be impartial during editing, I haven’t looked at this project since July or August. This story has been simmering out of sight since then. I wrote another novel in the intervening months (Okay, practically wrote another novel…) but I think I’m still too close to this one and am struggling to edit it objectively.

These are my words and I love them all dearly.

And boy howdy, do I LOVE my words! I pack words into a sentence like I’m padding a fragile item for shipment on a jackhammer. Apparently I find it necessary to describe every single movement from action to action – saying, turning, walking, looking – and I blame my third grade teacher, Mr. Holman, and his “peanut butter and jelly sandwich instructions” exercise. *More information available on request.

And those pesky adverbs, so reviled by Stephen King and many other writers, seem to have multiplied while I wasn’t looking! That makes it marginally easier to make cuts. I’ve had to re-write some clumsy scenes and I’ve deleted others entirely, so maybe I’m not fully in love with ALL the words. Thus far I haven’t chucked my computer out of the window, burst into tears, or curled up into a ball in the corner. Maybe that ambitious end-of-January deadline could happen!

Now, if I could only find my focus…

What editing techniques do you find most helpful? How many rounds of edits do you go through before handing your work off to beta readers? Drop your advice, suggestions, and discussion points below!

Setting New Goals For A New Year

On December 28, 2018

Christmas is over, the excitement has come and gone, and now it’s time to set our sights on the New Year. Every year I make a laundry list of self-improvement items that I somehow convince myself I’ll magically follow through on this year.

There are common resolutions that I have tried on a time or two: to eat healthier, to exercise more, to save more money, to take better care of myself. These – or some form of them – have been the top American resolutions for many consecutive years, telling me that not only are these common but they are commonly failed.

Jim Carrey’s movie Yes Man was on television today and I couldn’t help thinking what perfect timing it was. For someone like me who overthinks and second guesses and avoids not just confrontation but general social interaction whenever possible, the premise of this movie sparked something for me today.

In Yes Man, Jim Carrey plays Carl, a loan officer who is meek and mild and finds himself at a self-help seminar where attendees are challenged to live a life of YES! They sign a covenant agreeing to say yes to every opportunity offered to them, whether they want to or not. Of course, that creates some highly amusing situations for Carl, pulling him out of his comfort zone, kicking and screaming. But through this covenant, he begins to free himself from his fears, to learn skills and meet people he wouldn’t have been exposed to normally.

I’m not about to go out in the world and take on every offer and every opportunity placed before me. That would be insane and I can guarantee nowhere NEAR as amusing as it was for Jim Carrey. However, in lieu of making “resolutions” for 2019 that will, as they so often do, fall by the wayside due to life and unforeseen circumstances…

I will resolve to say yes.

Not in a reckless, “sure I’ll get in your sketchy van” kind of yes. But I will say yes to invitations from friends, to opportunities to share my writing, to attending gatherings of like-minded strangers. I will allow myself the confidence to continue my journey as an author, to keep meeting people and trying new things. In the coming year, I will say yes to surrounding myself with kind, inspiring, creative people who are also generous with their time and their knowledge. And I’ll do my very best to emulate them and pay it forward every chance I get.

When the clock strikes midnight and rolls over to 2019, what goals will you be pursuing? What experiences will you say yes to and how will you use what you’ve learned? Feel free to share your thoughts below!

Happy New Year!

Have You Met…Katie Parker

On December 8, 2018

I can’t wait to meet my characters again as I start the editing process on my previous novel. That behemoth has been riding on my back since November of last year, finally coming to a close in July. It is a rambling pile of garbage consisting of roughly 163,000 words and 346 word processor pages. Following the advice of a number of prominent authors, I finished WIP2017 (current working title) and set it aside to percolate for six weeks.

Okay, well, for nearly five months. Don’t judge.

I have to admit I am both terrified and excited to look at the story again. In my memory there are blazing triumphs of literary genius as well as festering bits of nonsense. But I can’t wait to revisit some of my characters! Here, I will introduce you to my Main Character and Protagonist, Katherine “Katie” Parker.

Katie Parker grew up in a small town in Iowa, and couldn’t wait to leave it behind. She moved to San Francisco, took a job at a prestigious marketing firm, and quickly hit it off with attractive and engaging Derek Franklin. Katie and Derek lived a satisfying life filled with work and friends until Katie started receiving threatening letters. Tragedy struck, turning her world upside-down, so she moved home searching for a sense of safety. But it wasn’t long until she realized she was putting everything and everyone she cared about at risk. Katie knew she would have to fight if she wanted to keep the new life she’d built.

There is a lot of me in Katie Parker, especially her sense of humor and her insecurities. I like to have a visual representation of my characters, making artistic adjustments here and there to make them unique. For Katie, I immediately saw Ginnifer Goodwin. She’s adorable and seems friendly, accommodating, and harmless. But we come to learn she has hidden depths and a fierceness underneath her sweet appearance.

I had a lot of fun bringing her to life, but what I most enjoyed about writing Katie was watching her grow. When we first meet her, she is fairly naïve, living in her boyfriend’s shadow where he calls the shots and seeing the world through rose-colored glasses. She’s intelligent, but complacent. People like her, but don’t take her seriously – and she doesn’t fight that perception. Throughout her story, however, a series of events create a dark cloud over her head, making her look at herself and the people around her in a different light. She learns to stand up for herself, to go after what she wants, and to take her future into her own hands.

December may pass before I get a chance to revisit Katie’s story but I’m excited to get to know her again, hopefully with fresh eyes and a renewed sense of the way she sees the world. I can’t wait to share her and her story with you!

What a Difference a Year Makes

On December 4, 2018

My second NaNoWriMo has come and gone. I have to admit I’m feeling a little bit of a let down. There was always something to do, someone to talk to or meet up with, daily goals on the line. I find myself having to rein in my enthusiasm and not barrage my writing group with random thoughts and observations. Everyone has a life to get back to, especially as we drive straight into the mouth of the holiday season. We’ve set aside family time and other obligations for a month and we all need to return to a sense of normalcy – if any of us remember what that looks like.

This was a different experience for me than last year. My first NaNo in 2017 consisted of forcing myself to attend events, to actually talk to people, to not give up on trying to reach that 50,000-word pinnacle. The local writing group I joined is made up of people who have been participating for more than a decade and who have a considerable shared history. That was a little daunting, and even more so for someone who faces a bit of social anxiety. Last year I challenged myself not only to write 50,000 words in 30 days, but to attend events and engage with people I didn’t know and who didn’t know me.

Is it too much to say that was a life-changing decision?

Sounds dramatic, I will readily admit. But I can’t deny that I have changed. A little background: I am very good at avoidance. Making plans with people I genuinely enjoy and then panicking at the last second and canceling said plans is almost an Olympic sport for me. It’s not intentional. As the reality of personal interaction and imagined judgement loom on the horizon, I become filled with dread. So throw in something intensely intimate like writing and that anxiety goes nuclear.

I talked myself into showing up at write-ins and attending informational meetings throughout the following year. Then a strange thing began to happen: I didn’t have to force myself anymore and I started instigating meet-ups. I led two month-long Camp NaNo groups, holding online and in-person writing events, spouting annoying encouraging platitudes throughout each Camp.

Honestly, I don’t know how the participants were able to stomach me.

From there, I started looking at writing as more than a little hobby to keep me busy and started thinking my writing might have worth outside of my own mind. Confidence doesn’t come easily to me. I am firmly entrenched in the “fake it ’til you make it” school of self-esteem. But I found that the more I wrote and the more I spent time with like-minded creatives, the more I valued what I – what WE – have to offer.

NaNoWriMo 2018 was a fantastic experience for me. I now have a group of people I consider friends that I hope to continue to meet up with for writing – or just for fun. In 2017 I scraped across the finish line with barely over 52,000 words. It took me from November through the end of July just to finish writing that project. This year? I hit 50,000 on the 14th, ended the month with a decent word count of 91,065, and “The End” is on the horizon within the next week or two.

What a difference a year makes.

Putting yourself out there and taking chances can be pretty terrifying. But there are also some astounding rewards to be gained from taking a chance. I highly recommend it.

What goals do you want to reach but have been too scared to attempt? Have you pushed yourself out of your comfort zone recently with surprising results? Share your story below!

some days are strange, writing, author strugles

Some Days Are Just Strange

On November 16, 2018

In Messages From Sharon, Stories & Excerpts

We all have those days.

You wake up feeling “off.” No real reason why, just not really into it that day. It could be a lingering bad dream, or a negative comment online – or worse, ZERO comments online! Maybe you slept wrong, you couldn’t sleep, the atmosphere is charged with an impending snow storm, the planets are out of whack.

It happens to the best of us. Since this is the real world, and we’re all adults here, you can’t just pull the covers over your head and wait it out. Shoot, when you get to be my age, lying in bed all day just makes things worse. The creaks and hitches become cracks and full-on joint failures.

I was tempted today. Instead, I decided to shake things up a little.

I’ve been working on a fantasy story for my NaNoWriMo project. I have reached the 50,000-word goal and can now focus on making sure all my plot points are included and that my characters are behaving as they should. The problem with that is my brain is a bit frazzled today. So I poked it.

While some of you may be picturing Shel Silverstein’s drawing for the poem “Warning” from Where the Sidewalk Ends, (It’s just me? Go look it up. You won’t be sorry) that’s not quite what happened. A few years ago, one of the kids got my husband a book of writing prompts called 642 Things To Write About. I decided to dust that off and see if anything jumped out at me.

On the very first page of this book I read, “A houseplant is dying. Tell it why it needs to live.” Now I have a new 1700-word short story out in the world and I feel better.

Here’s a little snippet*:

That was about the end of my pep talk and I was freaking out a little. There had been no change and I didn’t know enough about plants to be really effective. I lifted up one of the long, thin stems of the half-flowers and looked it over.

“Oh! And this little flower thingy that you have here? What would the bees do without this? You provide them the building materials they need to make their homes and their honey. Did you know all the bees are dying? If you weren’t here, you’d be hurting them, too! You have to do your part. Think about that. Plus – you are right in front of this glass, where all the other inside flowers can see you. If YOU give up, the one big strong plant that actually lives IN the sun and the fresh air, what will the rest of them think?”

I was really starting to connect with this plant and suddenly realized I didn’t know his name. Closing my eyes, I reached out with an open mind and waited for him to tell me. He wasn’t very forthcoming at first, and I’ll admit I started to doze off in the silence. I mean, the sun was warm, it was still early, and let’s be honest, he wasn’t too entertaining. In an attempt to revive myself, I took another big swig of water, sharing a little with the plant, too, before resuming my meditative state.

Finally, a name made itself known to me: Bernard.

Some days are just strange.

How do you “poke your brain”? Do you have any tricks to get your creativity flowing again – or even just to do the things you need to do for the day? Comment below or feel free to shoot me an email!

*You can find the rest of the story on my Channillo Channel

Join Me On A Short Story Writing Adventure!

On November 9, 2018

Recently I was introduced to a writers’ sharing website called Channillo. Here, you can post poetry, essays, nonfiction articles, short stories, and a variety of other written platforms. Readers pay a small monthly fee for unlimited access to content and can subscribe to a writer’s channel or follow one or more of their posted series.

This is a beautiful thing, especially for a fairly green author like me.

Most authors have a particular genre. I, on the other hand, am kind of all over the place these days. My current work in progress is a fantasy story. The previous one was a romantic thriller. I recently had a suspenseful short ghost story, “Return To Me,” published in a Halloween anthology. My particular writing niche hasn’t revealed itself quite yet – but I hope this little endeavor will change that!

Through the short story structure of Channillo, I will have an opportunity to try my hand at all the genres that appeal to me. I can produce bite-sized morsels of whatever strikes my fancy each week and serve it up to people who love to read. No matter if I’m feeling like a Disney princess or like a patient who flew over the cuckoo’s nest, I don’t have to commit myself to an entire novel in one style and end up hating my creation in the end. Yay!

Throughout this adventure, I will be posting snippets of whatever I’m working on, whether it’s a short story or part of a NaNo project or something entirely new. If you’re curious about “Return To Me” it can be found in the Halloween anthology, Chills Down Your Spine, or on my new Channillo channel.

I invite you to follow along, make suggestions, and hopefully enjoy some interesting and entertaining writing in the process!

…And So the Writing Journey Begins!

On November 2, 2018