Another teaser + ahh, the sweet smell of revisions!

Well, it's official.  I've completed writing the first draft of my third full-length novel.  It's crazy to think that just a few years ago, writing a book was just a lofty goal, a dream I had but didn't think I would ever accomplish.  Now I've written three.  Three!!

Granted, the first two didn't go anywhere.  I like to think they were my "test" novels.  They allowed me to work out some kinks, to try to find my voice and decide what kind of story I'd like to write.  I think they both still have potential and have some very good pieces in them, and maybe someday I'll go back and start them over.  But for now, it's time to move forward.

My third novel topped out at just over 75,000 words, which was my wordcount goal all along. Funny how that happens- I thought it might end earlier, around 70,000, but in the end, I needed to wrap up a few more things.  Before I pass it off to my lovely readers, I have some revisions I know I want to add in first.  I'm going to reread the whole thing and make the changes along the way, and then hand it off.  I'm not so concerned with grammar and punctuation stuff just yet, though.  I just want to make sure the story has all the elements I think it needs.

And so, I leave you with another snippet.  I'm not gonna set this one up at all, so just read it and enjoy it.  I mean, I hope you enjoy it...

I settle down on the stiff grass in the small graveyard, curling my feet under me.  There doesn’t seem to be anything to do but wait for Connor’s appearance.  I find myself wishing the sun would come out; it’s not that it’s cold here, but goose bumps spring up along my arms regardless.  It’s like the grayness sinks under my skin and chills me from the inside out.

I rest my chin on my hand and stare at the blank headstone.  Whose name will end up etched into that granite?  Shaking my head, I decide it will not be Connor’s.  I will not allow that to happen.

My ears feel stuffed with cotton.  Why are there no sounds here?  True, there is no breeze either, but being so close to these false woods I’d still expect to hear something coming from them.  Some sort of rustling in the brush nearby or bird wings flapping above, something.  The utter lack of movement makes it feel like the minutes here are dragging by, like time itself has forgotten how to move forward.

I wait.

And I wait.

And I wait. 

To pass the time, I braid and unbraid my hair.  I lie down, but I’m afraid to close my eyes in case I should miss Connor’s arrival.  I pace, first with my shoes on, then with them removed.  The grass beneath my feet should feel sharp and scratchy, but I barely feel it at all.  Along with my hearing, I feel my sense of touch also slipping away.  I run my hand along the headstone and my fingers are numb; I know I’m touching it but I don’t feel the coolness or the smoothness of the granite.  The longer I wait, the more I’m filled with an odd peaceful feeling, like when you first awaken from a good dream.

“Connor,” I whisper, looking up at the purple clouds rolling through the sky.  “Where are you?”

I can’t explain what happens, but I feel a gap in the silence after I speak.  There’s a rift in this place, something unsettled in the stagnant air.  I whirl around and see nothing, nothing but the endless gray landscape.

My eyes close in despair and I sink back down into the grass, pulling my legs into my chest and resting my forehead on my knees.  Where is he?  What if he doesn’t show up before Gabby calls me back?  What if I end up trapped here, alone in this timeless, silent place?

What if I’m too late? What if, back home, Connor is already dead? 

I’m so tired of crying, but I can’t stop an icy tear from slipping from my eye.  The thought that Connor might be dead fills me with horror, to think I might be missing any last moments with him because I’m trapped here in the space between.

“What are you doing here?”

My head whips up.  My ears are ringing from the sudden disturbance in the silence, but I see no one.  Did I imagine that voice?  That voice I know so well, the voice I hear in my dreams?

“I said, what are you doing here?”

I couldn’t have imagined it twice.  I get to my feet, shaking as I look around.  “Connor?” I say, my voice nothing more than a shrill, tiny squeak.

As if conjured by his name, he materializes in front of me, suddenly real and whole and here.  He’s wearing his favorite worn-in jeans, the ones I told him only a few weeks ago how much I love the way they hang on his hips, and a charcoal gray t-shirt, the shirt I’ve stolen from his room countless times.  No matter how long it’s been since he’s worn it, when I pull it on I feel his warmth and smell his soapy scent as if he’d taken it off five minutes earlier.  His feet are bare; Connor loves being barefoot.  He would walk around school barefoot in the dead of winter if he was allowed.  His hair seems longer, although it’s only been a few days and there is no way his hair could’ve grown in that time. 

What strikes me the most are his eyes.  Normally a sweet, chocolate brown, here they seem muddy, almost black in color.  They are not his eyes. 

“It’s you,” I breathe, taking a step closer despite the anxious feeling sliding down my spine at his eyes.

He holds his hands up in front of him, backing away. “How did you get here?” he asks, his voice low and husky.  And maybe…angry?

“Don't worry about that.  What’s important is I’m here, and I’m going to bring you back with me,” I explain, trying to ignore his cold stare. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

I swallow hard.  Gabby said he wouldn’t want to leave, that I would have to convince him it was for the best.  But the way he’s looking at me right now, almost like he’s filled with disgust at the sight of me, makes me think this is going to be a much harder task than I ever imagined it would be.

“Connor, listen to me,” I plead.  “I know what happened, um, was terrible but-“

“Who are you?” he asks, cutting me off.

I blink in confusion.  “It’s me.  Janie.”

He squints at me, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  He shakes his head.  “Sorry.  I don’t know anyone named Janie.”

My breath gets caught in my throat and I’m paralyzed with fear.  Of all the things I was expecting him to say, denying that he even knows who I am was not one of them.

“Now if you excuse me, I have things to do,” he says, ice dripping from his voice. “I don’t know how you got here, but I suggest you go back the way you came.”

“Connor!”  I cry, panicked.  “Wait!  Please!”  I cannot let him walk away from me.

But walk away is exactly what he does, disappearing without a backward glance my way.

Sharing is caring

Last night, I had one of those dreams that just stuck with me after my alarm rudely woke me up.  I can't stop thinking about it even now.

I was in a class or some sort of writers' group, and everyone had to read the first page or two of their most recent work in progress.  I was so excited to share mine, and I shuffled through my notebook to make a few revisions before it was my turn (sidenote: I have not handwritten a story in YEARS, but the one I was about to read from a battered, old notebook just like I wrote in in high school was my current WIP).

After listening to everyone's first pages, it was finally my turn.  I opened my notebook and to my surprise and horror, my story was gone.  It was like the pages got up and walked away.   And I knew I had just looked at them moments earlier! I frantically leafed through every page in my notebook, searched my bag and the floor around me, but it had just disappeared. 

And so, no one got to hear my story.  And I was devastated.

So, what does this dream mean?  Does it mean I should take better care of my WIP and how I share it with people?  Or, maybe it means the thought of NOT being able to share my stories with people would be the worst thing ever.  Hmm.

I have about two more chapters to write, by the way, until the first draft is complete.  It's already over 71,000 words, so I'll have hit my word count goal and then some.  Now just to tie up all the loose ends. In a way, finishing a first draft feels like saying goodbye to an old friend.  I've spent so much time with this story that it's almost hard to end it all.  What will I do with all my time now??

Well, revisions, of course.  And eventually, start the next one. :o)

Productivity at its finest

Last week, I got hit with a weird 24-hour flu type of thing.  I say it was weird because I woke up Tuesday morning feeling completely fine, drove to work feeling fine, and then got to the office and immediately starting sneezing.  At first I thought it was just an allergy attack of some sort, but it just wasn't calming down.  I literally needed to shove tissues up my nose to keep it from dripping all over my desk.  Gross, I know.  So, I went home at lunchtime so I could sniffle away from the comfort of my couch.  By late afternoon, I was achy and fevery.  By nighttime I was worse, and slept on and off through the night thanks only to my sleepytime cold stuff.  

Then I woke up Wednesday morning, groggy and achy, but the stuffiness was gone.  This was the weirdest part.  You see, when I get a cold, it inevitably turns into a sinus infection within a day or two. So being able to breathe the day after going through an entire box of tissues?? Insanity.  By Wednesday afternoon I was thinking I probably could've made it into the office after all. 

Maybe I just needed some down time, though.  I haven't had a day off since Christmas (wahh, I know, it's only been two months) and I'm not gonna lie, it felt SO GOOD to just sit around and catch up on the DVR.  I checked my work email and did a little writing, but for the most part I got to just relax.  I had nowhere to go, nothing pressing to do, nothing needing cleaned, etc. 

It felt glorious.

I have been noticing, however, that lately when I'm in a productive mood I am REALLY in a productive mood.  Take yesterday, for example. I went grocery shopping, started dinner in the crockpot, cleaned the bathroom, dusted & vacuumed upstairs, hung some new wall stuff in the bedroom, did two loads of laundry (even putting the clothes away!), ironed two dresses and like 87 pairs of pants, wrote over 1100 words, made dinner, cleaned up the kitchen, etc etc etc.  It was bananas.  And it felt good.

The WIP is now officially alllllmost finished, thanks to said awesome productivity.  I'm over 65,000 words, and I think it'll wrap up around 70k.  There are some revisions I know I want to go back and add it right away, but then I'm gonna let it sit for a week, then read it once through without touching it.  I haven't been going back to reread stuff much at all with this one, besides for some continuity purposes and to post snippets here.  So I want to get a feel for the flow before giving the first draft to my readers.  My ultimate goal is to have it finished and start querying again by late spring. 

Making goals seems to be helping this one move along quickly, so I'm going to stick to that.

Happy Monday!

Wake me when it's spring

I might not be sleeping through this winter, but if I had my choice I probably would.  It's been a weird mix of freezing, frigid cold temperatures and somewhat lovely days, fooling me into thinking spring is just around the corner.  I suppose it's not that far off anymore...I always feel like February is truly the last winter month.  March brings the promise of spring- fresh air, new life, melting snow...

I feel like I haven't been doing that much socially these days, and I'm actually okay with that.  I've had plans here and there, but this time of year I'd much rather hole up in the warmth of my house.  And because of this, I've been getting in some phenomenal writing time.  Every time I sit down to write for an hour I get more than 1000 words down, almost every time.  I swear this story is practically writing itself. The WIP is now over 57,000 words, which means I'm in the home stretch, for real.  There's a strong chance I really will finish it by the end of this month.

*pauses to do happy dance*

It's been a while since I shared a snippet, so here you go.  As a little set up, this is a quick flashback scene, before Jane and Connor were a couple, leading back to the present tense.  Questions, comments, concerns are welcome as always. 

To my surprise, unlike so many of Colin's parties, the night was not a total disaster. It was a laid back sort of event, no stupid dares or drinking games or craziness. We sat around the fire and drank a couple beers Colin’s friends offered us- Connor and I hadn’t had a way to purchase our own, obviously- and roasted marshmallows from an economy-sized bag someone had brought. Colin and his friends tried to top each other with the scariest ghost story, and I’d brought up Gabby and the wishkeeper legend. Everyone but Connor knew of her story, at least bits and pieces of it, so we filled him in on all the details. I remember how he’d turned and stared at the well, thoughtful for a moment until the wind picked up and sent a foul-smelling gust our way. It was like sulfur mixed with rotten fruit and smelly feet all wrapped up together. We all wrinkled our noses, pinched them with our fingers or tried to hide them in our t-shirts to avoid it.

“That must be a miserable existence,” Connor said, waving his hand in front of his face. “That poor ghost.”

“Her story is really so sad. I think she slipped,” I said, grabbing another marshmallow. “Because one whiff of that and there’s no way she would’ve be able to throw herself in there willingly.”

“That makes sense,” Connor agreed. “As far as why she’d stick around here for all eternity, I mean. Although either way, I guess, she’d probably be forced to stay here.”

I’d looked back at the well myself at that point and wondered if Gabby was there, listening to our conversation. I saw a shadow drift past the well and my eyes widened, but the more I stared the more I was convinced it must have been the tall grass rustling in the breeze. The darkness beyond the glow of the fire made it easy for my eyes to play tricks on me.

“It’s not always so bad here, though. Sometimes you can’t smell that well at all,” Colin chimed in. “I think my dad wants to keep it as some sort of historical landmark.” He’d shrugged, and then the topic had changed abruptly to summer vacations.

As the night wore on, I remember feeling hyper-aware of Connor next to me. The stars seemed brighter in the sky, and the fire seemed to grow warmer instead of cooler as it died. Our chairs were near enough that our elbows kept touching, and each time they did a small bolt of electricity surged through me. If I had been looking at our arms, I surely would’ve seen tiny sparks flickering in between them.

Back in the present, the crow from yesterday has returned. He startles me out of my thoughts, screeching at me from his perch in the treetops.

“Gabby,” I whisper. “Please help me.”

The crow caws in response; two sharp, quick shrieks that make me wince. I pull my legs in against my chest and lay my forehead on my knees, ignoring the sweat immediately gathering in the creases behind my knees. I’m exhausted, weariness weighing over me like a thick wool blanket. Despite the stifling heat, I drift off to sleep in the shade of the wishing well.

I can’t have been out for more than five or ten minutes when I sense someone looming over me. I raise my head, expecting Rina to be standing there with her hands on her hips, her head shaking slowly as she finds me once again in this field all alone.

But it’s not Rina. It’s Gabby. In her hands she holds my necklace by its chain and the pendant sways back and forth in front of my face, hypnotizing me.

“I believe you dropped something,” she said, a severe frown distorting her lips.

Work it, girl, work it

Since my last post, I think I've added about 6000 words to my WIP.  I'm totally guessing, but I think that sounds about right. I'm very happy about that, and I'm very happy about how well I've been sticking to my new routine. 

If you recall my last post, I mentioned that I was going to try to get back to writing 2-3 days a week and working out the same amount of days.  I'm happy to report that in these first 3 weeks of the new year, I've been sticking to that.  I've been really good about squeezing in an hour of writing time a couple weeknights and then more time on the weekends.  It's paying off- I can feel the story starting to wrap itself up.  I'm over 46,000 words as of last night, so while I'm not exactly in the home stretch yet, I'm well over halfway done.

As far as exercising, well, I'm keeping up with that too.  Even when I don't feel like working out, like yesterday for example.  I'd gotten my allergy injections at lunch time (on month 6 of those, only 6 months more to go!), and my left arm had a bad reaction to the shot.  It blew up around the injection site and was incredibly itchy for hours.  Then I started to feel achy.  Sometimes that happens when they up my dosage, I think.  Anyway, the point is, even feeling like poo, I forced myself to hit the elliptical for 35 minutes after work anyway.  I ended up burning off my entire lunch and the granola bar I'd eaten as a snack. By the time I was done, I was a sweaty mess (as per usual- I sweat like no one's business), but I felt so much better!  Who woulda thought?

I'm also trying to watch what I eat during the week.  For someone who has a HUGE sweet tooth and loves junk food, this is not so easy.  But I'm doing it.  I'm eating low calorie lunches and my snacking usually consists of veggies & a little dip or some fruit, no chips or chocolate or random junk.  I'm trying not to get obsessive over it, though.  Because I can totally be obsessive about food these days.  It really is easy to do once you start learning the nutritional information of what you're putting in your body.  How many calories one tiny bag of Cheetos has or one miniscule piece of chocolate.  It adds up SO fast.  And then I start panicking, knowing I'm going way over my calorie goal and there's no way I can burn it all off, etc, etc. 

But I'm not trying to lose weight quickly or anything.  Just trying to be healthier.  And if I want a giant burrito from Qdoba once in a while, that's okay too.  It's good to reward yourself now and then for reaching your goals. Or so I tell myself...

S.A.D.

With the insanity of the holidays over, we now enter that time of year in which I tend to go in to Hibernation Mode.  If I could remain in pajamas and not have to leave my house- like, ever- I would be completely fine with that. 

Sometimes I think I have a hint of Seasonal Affective Disorder. You know, that depression that hits mainly in the winter months due to lack of sun.  Most of the symptoms ring true for me- less energy & ability to concentrate, loss of interest in work and other activities, social withdrawl, weight gain, feeling sluggish, etc. 

To combat it this year, I'm trying to force myself to stick to a strict routine that mainly involves working out at least 2-3 days a week.  I figure the more active I am, the better I'll feel, right?

Of course, today I woke up feeling achy with a sore throat, so I'm not sure I'll be up for the gym tonight.  Sigh.  Already with the excuses.

Anyway, along with taking care of myself physically, I'm also going to start my writing routine back up- at least two week nights and Sundays.  While I was on break from work last week, I wrote shockingly little.  Like, so little that I'm somewhat disgusted with myself.  I had no motivation whatsoever to do anything.  Not only had I planned on getting in some good writing time, I had a bunch of little projects I wanted to do around the house, like cleaning out my desk and the junk drawer in the kitchen, weeding through closets, etc.

I did none of that.

I pretty much stared at the TV watching nothing but garbage (literally, one day I watched a Hoarding: Buried Alive marathon).  I did at least manage to read a little, but even that seemed to take more brain power than I had available. 

Maybe I just needed some good down time, a break from EVERYTHING, but I'm not usually such a slug like that.  This is also why I think SAD may be playing a part.  There's always such a big build up to the holidays, and then it's just...over.  The presents are unwrapped, the cookies all eaten, the shiny decorations hidden away for another year. And there's nothing to look forward to but dark, cold days and nights for the next three months.

But it's important to me to finish writing this book, this third book that could be "the one".  And it's important to me to start querying again, to put myself out there and see what might come of it.  This is my dream.  And I'm not going to let winter's winds knock it out of my hands.

The Tally

I realize November still has two more days til it's over, but as far as my little NaNo deadline of hitting 40,000 words by the end of the month goes, it was pretty much over last night.  Too much running around to do tonight (it IS Thursday afer all, and we all know that means TVD night) and tomorrow I'll be Christmas shopping all day long with my mom and then heading to dinner with my eastside girls in the evening, which means I won't get home til late and I will be physically and mentally exhausted.  Which means the next time I'll get to write will be Saturday or Sunday, and then it's already December.  Agh.

Anyway, yes, I know my original goal was 41,000 words, which meant I had to write 25,000 words, but somewhere along the way I changed it to an even 40k.  Just had a better ring to it.  Nevermind that I was cutting 1000 words.  Nevermind that at all.  Ahem.

Did I hit that goal?  Welllllll...ok, no.  No I did not. 

But I'm okay with that.  The reason being is my total is now just under 37,000 words, so in just a little over three weeks I wrote a good 20,000 words!  I mean, that's actually pretty amazing when you take into consideration that I was only writing about 3-4 days a week, for about an hour or two each time I sat down with my laptop.  And at 37,000 words, my story is now officially at least half over.  I'll be very happy if I end up with 70,000 words with this one.

Clearly, I work better under deadlines.  Even self-imposed ones.

So let's see, if I managed 20,000 words in about 3 weeks, I should be about to write 25,000 in 4 weeks.  That means if I stick with this pace, I should be done with the first draft by mid-January.  Since things are going to get a little crazy with the holidays coming up, my goal to finish the book for real will be February. 

For now, off to my readers it goes.  I'm dying for some feedback!!

Progress!

Oh hey, how are you?  I know, it's been a couple weeks since I've been here.  Sorry.  I've been busy, you know, kicking some major ass on the WIP instead.

No, really! After I realized I'd need to write at least 1000 words every day in order to reach 40k by the end of November, it sort of kicked me in the head and got me going.  While I'm still not certain I'll be able to truly reach my goal, I can proudly say I'm giving it pretty much everything I've got.   I'm happy to report that I'm already close to 27,000 words, which means I've only got about 13,000 more to go in 12 days.  I'm pretty sure that means I've cranked out at least 10,000 words since I set this goal for myself. Yay, me.

Writing 1000 words takes me about an hour, give or take.  Now, some days I don't have an hour to crack open the laptop and write, and therein lies the dilemma.  So, I'm trying to write even more than 1000 words when I do have time to sit down and write.  It's actually been somewhat easy to do that.  I'm not sure if the way I'm writing this one is making it easier; I mentioned before that I'm not following a strict timeline, just writing snippets of certain times in the characters' lives and then going back to the present.  I think I might end up putting the snippets all together so it's a consecutive story, instead of all the back and forth stuff, but I'll first throw it out to my readers as is and see what they think.

So that's helping, but what's also helping is the fact that I just sort of love this story.  It's spooky, it's sappy, it's fun, and it's also sorta heartwarming.  What would you do to bring the love of your life back to you? 

I've also been considering looking into some freelance writing jobs.  I could use the extra cash, and I might as well get it by doing something I love.  I just have no idea where to begin looking or how to get started, so research will be involved.  Sigh.

Anyway, Black Friday for me will be spent not getting trampled in stores, but holed up in my house with my laptop on my couch.  I declare it Writing Day and I hope to bust out like 5000 words that day.  We shall see!

NaNoWriMo...uh oh

Ok, wait a minute...it's November already?  I blinked and October was over!  I think I say this every year, but 2012 seriously has been the fastest year EVER.  Geez.

Anyway, so it's November, and November means it's NaNoWriMo time!  NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month, kids.  The goal is to write a 50,000 word novel between November 1st and November 30th, and you can't cheat by using any of your previous work- it has to be a fresh, new novel.  Which means I can't enter using my current WIP, which is over 16,000 words now.  And it'd really be cheating, considering I've been working on it for several months now. 

Several months, and I'm only at 16k.  Ugh.  The progress I feel I've been making lately suddenly seems much, much less impressive.  Sad face.

Part of me wants to try NaNo one of these days.  50,000 words in 30 days?  Pssshh.  No big deal.

Right.

The main problem is every time November rolls around (ok, well, these past three years when I've been really trying to write something worthwhile) I'm engrossed in something I already started.  I don't think it would make much sense for me to stop working on the WIP, just to try to create some super crappy first draft of another book. 

That said, I WILL use November as a month to be super motivated about writing.  Maybe I can get 50,000 words down in the WIP- which would make it almost finished.  My goal is usually around 70k for a completed story. 

Ok though, let's be honest here.  50k ain't happening.  I just don't have it in me to write so quickly.  I will be a bit more realistic and set my goal at 25k.  That sounds much more reasonable.  So, by November 30th, I need to have a total of around 41,000 words written in the WIP.

I can totally do it.

To anyone out there participating in NaNoWriMo this month, good luck, and happy writing!! 

another snippet

I'm not sure what my deal has been these past few weeks, but I've just completely lost my writing mojo.  Like, I haven't felt any urge to pick up my laptop and continue on with the WIP.  And that's weird in itself, because I'm really liking this WIP.  Meh. 

In any case, sometimes after I post snippets here my inspiration suddenly returns.  So let's hope that happens again, cuz I'd really like to get back into my writing routine.  I'd like to get back on track like last year, writing at least 2-3000 words per week until the first draft is done.  I have a long way to go, considering I'm only at around 11k right now.  Sigh.

Please enjoy this snippet and share your thoughts if you so desire.  Feedback helps!!  :o)

 

*   *   *   *   *

“Janie!  Oh my god, what are you doing?”

I stand up abruptly, dazed.  I’d been peering down into the well, trying to glimpse Connor’s note in its depths.  No matter how hard I squint and stare, I cannot see it; it has completely disappeared into the darkness.

Rina grabs me and yanks me away from the well.  She engulfs me in her arms, which feels strange.  Rina isn’t the touchy-feely type, and I am about six inches taller than her.  My chin rests on the top of her head, her silky black hair smelling of strawberries.

“You officially are scaring the crap out of me,” she says, choking a little.

“What?  Why?” I hear the words come out of my mouth, but it doesn’t feel like I’m the one saying them.  I sound distant, my voice not attached to me.

She pulls back and stares into my eyes.  “Janie, it seriously looked like you were about to throw yourself into the well.  You know.  Like Gabby did?”

I blink rapidly.  That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.  I glimpse back at the well and wriggle out of her arms.  “I wasn’t going to do that,” I tell her.

Rina’s almond-shaped eyes narrow a little.  “What are you doing out here, anyway?”

I hesitate, feeling foolish.  Rina didn’t really believe the legends about Gabby’s ghost, either, and would undoubtedly make fun of me for throwing Connor’s note into the well.  “I just had to get out of the house.”

She cocks her head at me.  “And you came here.  Of all places.”

I look at the ground, slipping my foot into and out of my flip flop.  “Why not?”

“Because I know what this place means to you and Connor.”

I don’t answer.

Rina reaches over and takes my hand.  “Janie, you’ve gotta be strong for him right now.  What happened was-“

“What happened was my fault,” I interrupt, wrenching away.  I stride back over to the well and plop down on the edge of it, not caring if my shorts are being stained by the mushy green moss coating the rim.

“I was going to say an accident.  Like I’ve told you a hundred times, you didn’t make him get in that car that night.”

I snort.  “Yes, I did.”

“Oh, right.  You physically shoved him in and locked the door from the outside, right?  Is that what happened?  My mistake.”

“You know what I mean, Ree.”  I run my hand along the edge of my shorts.  “I-I didn’t believe him.  And it devastated him.”

Rina walks over and sits down next to me.  “You have to stop blaming yourself at some point.”

“I can’t.  Not until he’s okay.”

Rina lets out a breath.  She won’t look at me, because she knows as well as I do that he might not ever be okay again. “Have you seen him again?’

“Yesterday.  Only for a minute.  It was…terrible.”

She nods.  “I went today.  No change, by the way.”

I close my eyes.  The sun is shining right into my face and I’m beginning to get a headache from the glare. 

“They say we should talk to him.  That if he hears familiar voices it might help pull him back to us.”

“I can’t,” I whisper, picturing my strong, handsome Connor weak and pale, hooked up to all those machines.

“He needs you, Janie.”

“I’m the last thing he needs.”

“He loves you,” Rina says simply.

I shake my head, my hair falling around my face like a curtain.

Rina sighs. “I hope you change your mind.  Because I, for one, truly think that if he hears your voice, knows that you’re back and that you believe him, that’ll be the key he needs to wake up.  Call me crazy.”  She stands, wiping off the back of her shorts and grimacing when she feels the dampness the moss left.  “You guys have something special, you know?  It’s not a normal kind of love.”  With that, she heads back into the woods and leaves me to my thoughts.

Not a normal kind of love.  For so long, I’d believed that about us.  What we’d had together wasn’t just silly teenage lust.  Connor and I had almost a sort of telepathy between us.  I could feel what he was thinking most of the time, and vice versa.  We could speak to each other with just a glance.  When we were apart I could still feel his presence somewhere, like a magnet pulling me in his direction.  He was the air I breathed, and without him, I am slowly drowning.

I gaze back down into the blackness of the well to find it is no longer completely darkened.  A mist is swirling up, reminding me of a fog rolling in over the hills.  I blink, certain I am seeing things, but it keeps rising and rising until I stumble backwards, watching it churn into the air.

And then, suddenly, the mist is sucked back down, like the well itself opened up its mouth and took a deep breath in, inhaling it completely.

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut.  Clearly, I’m hallucinating.  I try to think when the last time I ate something was and I find I can’t remember.  Yesterday?  Two days ago?  Time is passing by so quickly that all my days blur together into one big mass of colors, looking like a photo taken from a moving car.  I open my eyes and decide to go home.  There is nothing else I can do here, and my stomach feels queasy now.  Whether that’s because it’s empty or I because I feel ridiculous for throwing Connor’s note into the well, losing it forever, I cannot say.

I am about to cross into the woods when I hear it.  It could be the breeze, which has picked up again, or it may just be my imagination.  But I swear I hear a voice calling to me from across the Patterson fields.

“Don’t…go…”

Randomness

Today's blog post is not going to have any one central theme.  Mainly because the ol' noggin is swirling around with thoughts right now and I can't focus on any one of them long enough to come up with a coherent, continuous thought.  So here are some of the things I need to just get out of my system. 

1) I'm on a roll with my current WIP.  I officially surpassed 10,000 words last week, and I haven't even really focused on writing it consistently for any length of time so that's sort of crazy.  This one is a lot different from the other two in that I'm basically writing snippets of it as I think of them - it's not following any specific timeline at the moment.  I mean, it is and it isn't.  And I know that doesn't make sense, really, but it is what it is.  And the story is either going to work out the way it's going, or I'll have to go back and put everything in order.  I'm not worried about that right now though.  It just feels good to get words down as they come.

2) Speaking of WIPs, I've been feeling very mehhhh about my last one.  I'm not sure if that's because the new one is going so well, or because I just have been away from it for SO long now, or if I'm just having doubts about it overall.  Third time's a charm, right?  Maybe?  Regardless, I do know with each story my writing has improved.  And that's something I'm proud of.

3) I hate being an adult.  I really, really do.  Right now I'm looking into refinancing our current mortgage, and researching all these banks and rates is mind-numbingly dull to me.  It really needs to get done (see previous post about how broke I am- saving any money monthly would help my situation out greatly), but this is one of those times I wish someone else would just take over and do it all FOR me.  Just tell me what to do.  Better yet, go ahead and set it all up for me and let me know what the outcome is.  Kthx.

4) My sweet gramma has been in the hospital going on a week now, and I'm really worried about her.  It's nothing life-threatening- just some really horrible back pain she's been dealing with a few months- but seeing her usual very active self lying in a bed, all pale and in pain is horrible. I used to meet her for lunch every single Wednesday, and we haven't done that since May because she's been lying low, scared to even get in her car and drive somewhere because of the pain.  I'm making an effort to go visit with her at least once a week.  If nothing else, just to break up her day for awhile and try to make her smile, to feel some sort of normalcy again.

5) My third anniversary with Dan is coming up in about a month already.  Three freaking years.  It feels like just yesterday that I was going for my final dress fitting and tying tiny bow after endless tiny bow on favor boxes.  And then this Halloween will be our ninth year together, which is also crazy.  But I can't imagine my life without him- it's hard for me to even remember my life before him at this point. 

6) My little baby kitten, Gus, is getting so big already!  He's just about six months old now, if I believe the date the shelter said he was born (March 23).  He's the best thing that has happened to us this year, even though at times he does remind us eerily of Ollie.  He's got some of Ollie's mannerisms and the same rattely ol' purr.  But instead of sleeping on my legs at night, Gus LOVES to be right by my head.  Sometimes he even sleeps ON my head- well, on my pillow, curled up near the top of my head.  He has helped my heart heal when I was positive it would be broken for a long, long time.

7) Speaking of cats, I was also hollered at by my ENT about having them because of my severe allergies.  Doooops.  It's just ridiculous how bad my allergies have gotten over the past few years- I swear I never had them this bad in my twenties or teens.  They're so bad that I'll be starting weekly allergy shots - that's right, WEEKLY - for six months to a year to try to control them.  I suppose if I can actually feel healthy and normal again it'll be worth it.  I'm pretty sure I don't know what it's like to be able to breathe well on a regular basis at this point.

All right, I think I've babbled on long enough. 

Happy Tuesday!

Back at it- new snippet!

So it's already August...which means summer is officially starting to come to a close.  I have to say, I'm ready for the cooler air and pretty colors that come along with September and October.  What comes after those months- not so much. 

I'm also looking forward to summer winding down because all the crazy activities that have been keeping me so busy and away from writing also begin to wind down!  I can't remember the last time I've been able to sit down on a weekday night, or even a Sunday and write for a few hours.  I know, I know, it's all about MAKING time for it...maybe I've felt a bit like I need a break or something since finishing the revisions on the last one.  I haven't even looked at or thought about that story since I sent it off to my readers.  And that's been somewhat freeing, actually.

However, I actually did start a new story about a month or so ago, which I think I've mentioned before.  I have just over 6500 words written- about 15 pages. I'm hoping perhaps a little feedback will spark my creativity and get me motivated to continue on with this one.  So, without further ado- here's a snippet from the first three pages of my current WIP.  Please remember this is a first draft, so any typos and icky sounding stuff will get cleared up later. 

Thoughts, comments, questions welcome!

* * * * *

The breeze whispers secrets to me as I emerge from the woods and into the fields of the old Patterson farm.  The wishing well looms about a hundred feet away, camouflaged in the tall, yellow grass scratching at my bare legs.  I pause, clutching the paper in my hand so hard it crinkles and almost tears beneath my well-bitten fingernails.  A sharp wind dances across the field, lifting my dark hair off my neck and momentarily cooling me from the hot summer sun.   I stand motionless, listening, and hear nothing but the sound of my own blood ringing in my ears.

No one knows how long the wishing well has been here.  Weeds grow as tall as its crumbly walls that are slick with soft, green mold.  Darkness swallows the inside halfway down, making it impossible to see what lay in its depths.  As children, we imagined countless coins, a veritable treasure, all coated with grime and algae, each one representing a well-thought out wish.  And supposedly, along with the coins, the spirit of Gabrielle King rests, forever drifting amidst the cool stone walls.

Gabby plunged to her death by falling headfirst into the well fifty years earlier, although it is said she actually died of a broken heart.  When her romance with her first love ended abruptly, Gabby was so distraught she visited the well with the intent to cast her in her coin and beg for him to return to her.  No one really knows if she fell in on purpose or not, but her body was finally dredged up out of the well about a month after her disappearance.  A rumor spread in the years following her death:  Gabby became the keeper of all wishes; it was up to her whether or not they were granted.  Gifts other than coins began getting thrown into the well; flowers, letters, jewelry- all tossed in with the hope that Gabby would be persuaded to grant the gift-givers’ desires.

People claim to see Gabby pacing in the fields near the well, sobbing quietly into her hands.  Even when you can’t see her, it’s said if you listen close enough  you can hear her desperate cries floating up from the bottomless well.  It’s a sound of pure, aching sadness, the pain of a heart shattering like a crystal vase thrown violently to the ground.

And I’d never believed any of it.

A memory overcomes me as I stare at the well, and pain slices through my heart with icy talons so quickly I almost drop to my knees.  I take a few deep breaths as it all comes flooding back to me.

It was my junior year, the autumn before last, the air cool and crisp and ripe with the smell of burning leaves.  Parties in the Patterson fields were common that year, starting up as soon as the school year did. I leaned against the well beside Connor, urging him to go talk to Amanda Kappler, the girl he claimed to have a crush on the entire summer and who didn’t know he existed.  She was several yards away with a group of girls, standing as close to the bonfire as they could without getting burned, holding their hands out to it to warm them from the chilly night.

“I can’t, Janie.  She’ll just laugh at me,” he insisted.

“Come on, don’t say that.  You’re a total catch,” I told him, smiling into his chocolate brown eyes.

He threw his head back and looked up at the sky.  “I’m not like you.  I can’t just go up to people and pledge my undying love to them.”

"When have I ever done that?”

“Well, let’s see.  There was Jack Rubinsky.  Adam Francis.  Colin Peck-”

"All right, all right.  God, you’re making me sound like a whore.”

Connor looked at me then and grinned, and I remember thinking at that moment his smile was the most beautiful thing in the world.  It light up the dark night like a meteor shower, sparkling stars falling all around me.  “You’re not a whore.  Just someone who knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.  Or him, as the case may be.”

"Ok, whatever.  You want Amanda?”

He bit his lip and nodded, but looked uncertain for some reason.

“Then this is what you do.” I scooted closer to him and nuzzled my nose into his neck, inhaling his fresh, soapy scent.  I felt him stiffen beside me.  “You go up to her like this,” I murmured, placing one hand on his cheek and turning his face to mine.  “And give her a kiss she’ll never forget.”  I touched my lips gently to his, pulling back to look him in his shock-filled eyes.  I’d only ever kissed him on the cheek, and felt a small jolt run down my spine as his lips lingered briefly on mine.  At first, I thought it was from just the chill in the air.  “You do that, and she’ll melt in your arms,” I breathed, our noses almost touching.

I hadn’t been expecting him to grab me, to twine his fingers in my hair and tug me back to him, his mouth moving over mine with a passion I didn’t know he possessed.  We sat there against the well, the stone wall cold on our backs, kissing, touching; practically consuming each other, while the party behind us raged on.

Connor and I had been friends, best friends, for over a year at that point and in that time not once had either of us made a move towards the other.  I was always dating someone and breaking up with them, and Connor was always my shoulder to cry on when it ended.  As it turned out, it was me he’d wanted all along, not Amanda, not anyone else.  All it had taken was that simple kiss to give him the courage to express how he really felt about me.  And it was as simple as breathing from that kiss on to just be with him.  I’d fallen in love with him at that precise moment, encircled by his arms, leaning against the wishing well.  But I think I’d already loved him since the day we met.

And now it looms before me, dusty and lonely in the vast field of the long-forgotten Patterson apple farm.  I can see offerings to Gabby scattered around the well’s base, sunlight glinting off the trinkets and papers.  This is where it all began for us.  It only seems appropriate that this should be where another new beginning can take place, too. 

Because right now, in a hospital bed several miles away, Connor is fighting for his life.  And it is all my fault.

small dreams

Geez, I've been meaning to write a blog post all week!  Somehow it just hasn't happened...whoops.

Well, since I've last posted I have officially finished my first round of revisions on Restless.  It will be in the hands of all my readers after this weekend....eeeeek!  It's always a little scary to get those notes back and hear what they think.  Not that anyone has ever been negative, but still.  When you spend so much of your life working on something, put so much of yourself into it, it can make the anticipation of getting feedback almost take your breath away. 

So, while they read I plan to keep busy, and the good thing is that the WIP is out of control.  Meaning, I'm writing like a fiend.  It's already over 5,100 words!  I have a good idea how this one is going to turn out, too.  I'm not a plotter by any stretch of the imagination, but I already know that if the way I'm writing it right now doesn't work out, I'll be able to somewhat easily manipulate it so it does make sense.  And none of this is probably making any sense at all because only a couple people have laid eyes on it so far...

Anyway, so I've been thinking a lot lately about how my life has really turned out so much differently from how I ever thought it would when I was a child.  Once upon a time, I was POSITIVE I would end up living in New York, dancing or acting.  Unfortunately, bad feet ultimately kept me from dancing- by my senior year of high school I knew it wasn't in the cards.  I always loved acting, too, but I also sort of fell out of that early on, except for a brief stint in summer community theater when I was 26, playing Bebe in A Chorus Line. 

So now, I'm keeping my dreams on the smaller side.  Writing is something I can easily do in my free time, it's something I feel like I'm getting better and better at the more I do it.  The key is being inspired by good books, I think, and that feeling I get when someone reads a passage I've written and tells me how much they've enjoyed it.  There's no better feeling than that.  Who knows if I'll ever end up published, but one thing is for sure- I'll never stop writing and sharing.  Never.

the wishing well

A few weeks ago, I had a dream about a wishing well.  Like most of my dreams, I can't remember a lot of detail, just that there was this sad, crumbling old well in the distance, and I was afraid of it for some reason.  I think the dream might've been a result of listening to a lot of The Airborne Toxic Event or something...they have a song I love called The Wishing Well, which is heartbreakingly beautiful.  Like almost all of their songs are, really.

But anyway, after the dream, that image of the well stuck with me and a story started to take form in my little head.  My new story, in which I somehow already have over 3000 words written, centers around an old wishing well in a field on an abandoned farm.  There's a legend that a ghost named Gabby lives within the depths, and Gabby is responsible for granting wishes.  When Jane's (the MC) boyfriend is in a horrible accident that leaves him fighting for his life, she decides to put her doubts at rest and go to the well to cast in her wish- that Gabby somehow help save Connor's life.  But Gabby's help will come with a price.

The story will go back and forth between the present and the past, showing snippets of Jane and Connor's relationship, how they met and fell in love, and finally leading up to his accident, which Jane feels responsible for.  I'm sure ideas and concepts will change as I write, but kids, I am very, very excited for this one.

Oddly enough, there's another song out there right now that I LOVE, also centered around a wishing well-  Danny, Dakota and the Wishing Well by A Silent Film.  I heard this song for the first time right after I started writing the story, when it was just two sad lonely paragraphs and I had no idea where it would go.  I think it was a sign.

I leave you right now with some song lyrics, courtesy of The Airborne Toxic Event and their song, The Wishing Well.  All lyrics are written by them; I only wish I had the talent to write this beautifully.  This is the second verse, all the way to the end of the song.

So you stand on the corner
Where the angels sit
And you think to yourself,
This is it, this is it
This is all that I have
All I can stand
Is this air in my lungs
And this coin in my hand
That you tossed in the air
And I fell, and I fell
All the way to the bottom
Of the well, of the well
Like those soft little secrets
That you tell, that you tell
To yourself, when you think
No one's listening too well

And the walls spin
And you're paper-thin
From the haze of the smoke
And the mess calling
The threat of your brow
Under unmade sheets
In your ear with the noise
From the darkest streets
We ran far and wide
You screamed, you cried
You thought suicide was an alibi
But you were always a mess
You were always aloof
Yeah, it's awful, I guess
But it's the awful truth
It was truth from the first
To the last words that she read

And she emerged from the dark
Like a ghost in my head
She said, I haven't forgot
Any words that you said
I just stare at the clocks
And I cry in my sleep
And I tear up your letters
And I burn them in heaps
And I gather the ashes
In that hole in the ground
Where we fell

Fifty Shades of Meh

I started writing a new story, you guys!  I know, I know, there's that whole revising thing still going on for my last one, which I am also pretty dang excited about, but this new one...eeeeeeee!  It's only about a thousand words right now, and I have no idea how often I'll get to work on it, but the idea is there and I really like it.  It's another ghosty-type of story, but it'll be a lot different from the last one.  Very different concept, sort of along the lines of Gayle Forman's If I Stay (which you should read if you haven't.  Which reminds me, I still need to read the sequel, Where She Went.)  I already, like, have a title and everything for this one, and don't think it'll be changing- unlike my title my current WIP, which I might as well tell you I've changed from After the Dream to Restless.  Simpler, to the point, etc.  I likey.

I just finished reading another fabulous book by Jellicoe Road author, Melina Marchetta, called The Piper's Son.   Not quite as moving as JR, but holy crap do I love Melina Marchetta.  She just has a way of making you FEEL things the same way her characters are feeling them.  I didn't fall to pieces reading this one like I did with Jellicoe, but it was still so. good.  Check her out. 

And now, I'm currently reading the second book in that wildly popular Fifty Shades series.  I read the first one a few weeks ago and I was less than impressed.  I seriously do NOT understand the mass appeal of these books.  Sure, there are very saucy scenes, probably unlike anything most peeps have read I'm sure, but those scenes are not enough to make up for the terrible writing and weak storyline-  which is basically girl meets boy, boy is into dominant/submissive relationships, boy makes girl sign contract to have a "relationship" with him, girl still somehow falls in love with him regardless of his stalkery tendencies, etc.  I just didn't find it in any way believable.  But I suppose when I think about it, Twilight was completely unrealistic, too, and look how crazy people are for that series.  The second book so far has been a bit of a snoozefest for me, too, but I feel like I need to keep reading it to try to understand the appeal.

Or maybe I'm just jealous the Fifty Shades author had so much success with her first series of books EVER. 

Hmph.

Just a tease...

I once read somewhere that you shouldn't post snippets of your work on your blog.  I don't really remember what the reasoning behind it was, to be honest, but it freaked me out and I immediately deleted any posts I had with snippets from In My Mind's Eye.

However, this is MY blog.  And shouldn't I feel free to post what I want to post?  I mean, I'm not really worried about one of my readers stealing my ideas- and hey, if a snippet actually inspires someone else to write, isn't that a GOOD thing?? 

So, that being said, I'm going to say screw the rules and post a little teaser from After the Dream (still tentatively titled, as I mentioned before- I have another title in my mind that I think actually works better).  This is one of my favorite parts of the story, where Ella and Riley really start to work together to learn about Anna's ghost's mystery.  This chapter is about a third of the way into the book, from Ella's perspective.

I would love to know your thoughts!  Questions, comments, concerns- although of course I won't be giving away any major spoilers. ;o)

*  *  *  *  *  *

Riley led me through the woods, holding back branches and stomping down brush for me as maneuvered his way expertly through them. Leaves danced frantically on the ground, trying to escape the relentless pull of the wind. I could taste snow in the air and buttoned my jacket all the way to my neck, shivering slightly. My hair whipped painfully around my face and kept getting stuck to my lips and eyelashes.

“It’s not much farther,” he assured me.

When Riley had called me this morning asking if I would come over, saying he wanted to show me some things to better explain his dreams, there was no way I could resist, especially after I’d committed myself to helping him on Friday night at Shelley’s. So that is why, on a very chilly Sunday afternoon, I was tromping through the woods with him, a little nervous and extremely cold.

I stumbled into him when he stopped suddenly at a small clearing. He appeared to be having some difficulty breathing as he looked around slowly, raising his face up to the sky.

“Riley?” I whispered, not sure what was going on. Or why I was whispering.

He turned to face me, only a few inches away. “This is it,” he said simply.

I took a step back and tried to see around him. “Um, what?” I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, besides the fact that the trees weren’t quite as dense in this particular area. A crow cawed loudly above us, disrupting the quiet. I jumped. I was completely on edge out here for some reason, buzzing with nervous energy.

Riley turned back around and focused on the ground a few feet in front of him. I followed his gaze and found a small, longish stone that looked out of place here, even though it was half-buried into the earth. I moved towards it and knelt down, scraping dirt and debris from it.

Anna Tomlinson
Beloved

I stared at it, willing the name to mean something to me. There were no dates on the headstone, no information other than “beloved”. I looked curiously up at Riley.

“Whose grave is this?” I asked. “Who’s Anna?”

Riley remained silent as he stared down at me, kneeling by the grave.

I stood up. “Okay, now you’re officially freaking me out again.” I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself.

Riley’s eyes were still on the grave. He shook his head as though shaking off a bad memory and finally looked up at me. “No. I mean, I’m sorry-“
“Just explain why you brought me into the middle of the woods to show me some random old grave, please?”

Riley seemed to be having a difficult time figuring out how to explain. It almost looked like he was about to lose consciousness; his eyelids kept fluttering as he struggled to form words.

“Anna…is…the girl…help…I have to help her,” he sputtered.

I glanced back down at the grave. “Um, I think you’re a little late to help her,” I said gently.

Riley plopped down on a fallen tree and held his head in his hands. “She’s the girl in my dreams. The one who’s trying to tell me something.”

Novel #2- complete!!

This weekend I FINALLY finished the first, crappy draft of the WIP!  Or, I suppose I can start using the working title, which right now is still After the Dream (I have another title in mind, too, but we'll deal with that later).  So anyway, yes!  Just about 10 months after I first started writing it and almost 76,000 words later, it's done!!  HOORAY!

And now, revisions.  Oy.

Part of me is excited to start revising, because I honestly think I can make this a GOOD story.  It's got good bones right now, just needs to be whipped into shape.  So I'm trying to wrap my head around what the best way to start revising is.  Print out a copy and start applying the red ink everywhere?  Revise as I read it on the computer?  Work on an outline of things I know off the top of my head I need to go back and change?  Hmm.  I suppose there's no set way to go about it, I'll just have to dive in and see what works best.  Starting with the beginning, which I hate...

However, I'm pretty psyched about the ending, you guys.  I'm not gonna lie, I left it sorta "open".  Not necessarily for a sequel, just for the reader to interpret what they want from it.  Mwuah hahahaha.

*insert pic of me doing a happy dance here*

In other random news:

I sort of gave up on my query for now.  I like where I've gotten it, but it still needs to be cleaned up.  At this point, I think I'll wait to continue with it til my revisions are done.  It's not like I'll be submitting it anytime soon anyway.

I'm off to see the Black Keys tonight!  I have a feeling it's going to be an awesome show!

Also?  It's been eerily warm, like HOT, here in Cleveland for the past week or so.  It's like we're skipping spring and heading straight for summer...which is interesting, because last year it just stayed winter til about mid-May.  Ah, Cleveland weather.

Today IS the first day of Spring though, so with that, Happy Spring everyone!  Here's to new beginnings (literally!)!

MIA

So, my last blog post was what, almost two weeks ago?  Whoopsie.  I skipped my Monday post this week because I really didn't have anything to say about the WIP, because I really didn't even crack open my laptop last week to look at it.  Again, whoopsie.  But that's really because next time I work on it, I hope to actually FINISH the first draft.  So I want a good chunk of time to sit and write, not just an hour here or there.  I am hoping that happens on Sunday.

Last Thursday I went on a spur-of-the-moment day trip to Toronto with my boss.  Over ten hours in the car = lots of chatting time, and I happened to mention that I'm finishing up writing my second novel.  He was all sorts of impressed, to which I wanted to reply, "Dude, you haven't read it.  It might completely suck." But still, it was nice to hear encouraging words.  He asked me if I wanted him to ask around in his Entreprenuer's Group if anyone had any publishing contacts, and I was like, uhh ssssure.  I figured he would forget about it as soon as we were out of the car. 

To my surprise, he did send a request out to his EO group, and someone actually responded, saying they would be more than happy to talk to me, even setting up a date and time to call.  At first I was completely excited, even though of course the WIP is nowhere near being ready to submit yet.  It's still an opportunity to maybe get some insight from the guy and submit later, right?  So I spent some time working on a rough draft of a query- something I hadn't expected to be doing for another month- just so I could really organize my thoughts about what the book is about.  I didn't want to babble like a fool on the phone to the guy.

Well, then I started doing a little research on the company.  I knew the guy is not an agent, but as it turns out he is the CEO of a vanity publishing company (I won't mention the name), and basically they assist "independent authors" (in other words, unagented) in editing, publishing, promoting and marketing their books.  For a fee.  A big fee.  A gigantic, no-way-in-hell-could-I-pay-it kind of fee.  Nor would I even if I could afford it.  It's not necessarily a shady thing, it's just another route for authors to take to get their work published, if they so desire.

But I have faith in this WIP.  I just have a feeling an agent will see the potential in this one.  I know my writing has improved since In My Mind's Eye- this story has more depth and stronger voices. Just more "oomph", as I've mentioned before. So, while I'll still talk to the guy (provided he actually calls for real), I know it won't be the road to publishing for me.  I'd much rather find an agent who believes in my work, instead of paying someone to believe in it.

But hey, at least I got the first draft of my query out of it.  I may post it at a later date, but it's definitely going to go through some critiques first on the AgentQueryConnect website I was on last year.  Aaaaand let the nerves of having complete strangers critique my work begin once again.

(insert sad trombone)

I don't have much to report this week writing-wise.  Last week was another insanely busy week, and I only managed to get just around 600 words down, bringing my total word count to just over 71k.  BUT (yes, this is a big BUT), the good news is I'm pretty sure those 600 words were my second-to-last chapter (yes, a very short chapter).  So that means all I have left to write is the last chapter!  And I think that's part of why I'm okay with the fact that I didn't get to write much this weekend.  Cuz a couple more hourly sessions and the story should be finished! 

Well, the rough, ugly first draft anyway.

So I've been toying with some ideas for this last chapter.  Well, there may be one more little short one after it, but all the closure will happen in this one.  The story switches viewpoints throughout, so I'm thinking maybe the final chapter will be told from each viewpoint, instead of just Riley or Ella's.  It's going to be pretty fast-paced; meaning all the shit is going to hit the fan pretty quickly. I just need to wrap my head around how it's all going to go down.  Of course, I probably won't actually know til I sit down to write it.  Cuz that's how I seem to roll.  I can plan where the story is going, but ultimately I don't really know til I start typing away. 

I'm excited to finish this one, though. I think it's really got some potential, if I can clean it up and tighten it up and stuff.  Ah, revisions.  How I'm both dreading and looking forward to you at the same time.

In other news, holy crap you guys, it's already like, the end of February!  I can almost smell the fresh spring air and see the flowers bursting out of the ground.  Spring seems like an appropriate time to work on revisions, doesn't it?  The world is waking up, being reborn into something beautiful, and hopefully my story will, too.

So close...

So, last week ended up being a hell of a lot crazier than it should've been.  I can't even remember what I did on Monday night, but Tuesday I ended up at a car dealership until almost 8 pm, and I unexpectedly drove home a shiny new car that night.  Totally spur of the moment; my lease wasn't up until September but thanks to some crazy deals I got the updated version of my car with some fun new features and I'm paying $20 less per month.  Crazy, right??  Anyway, then Wednesday I had to head back to the car dealership after work to pick up my garage door opener I'd left behind in the old car (dooops) and drop off my old spare key, and Thursday I hosted the girly night...so basically, what I'm trying to say is that writing was on the backburner last week.  Until Friday, when I thankfully took a mental health day and was able to plug away at the WIP a bit.  I also managed to squeeze in some time on Sunday, so when all was said and done, the week was not a total wash:

Total Words Written: 2,385
Total Hours Spent Writing: 2.5 hours

Total Word Count Overall: 70,872

That's not so bad, huh?  I mean, I know I've been consistently under the 3,000 word mark, but eh.  I'm still happy with how the story is progressing.

That being said, I'm actually allllllllmost done.  I think there will be two, maybe three, more chapters to go and then the rough, rough first draft will be complete.  I already know the revision process is going to be a beast and a half on this one.  I flat out hate the beginning (again) and I really want to add a bit more "oomph" to certain spots.  I've been revising a bit here and there as I go, mainly because I think of things, write them down, and just want to get them added before I get ahead of myself.  So anyway, at this rate, now I'm thinking it might end up just under 80,000 words.  Which is sort of funny, because originally I thought it would go on longer. 

Just goes to show that the story is in control, not me.