wishful thinking

YOU (imaginary) GUYS. All of my characters for LAYLA: FAST TIMES AT MOUNT MYTHICAL have their own plot arcs. Not that they didn't before, but now the information's written down and shiny and magic marker-y. Right now I'm as happy as this girl with the balloons. (Well, I can't exactly see her face, and therefore can't see The Happy—but she's frolicking in a field with BALLOONS. That means she's happy, right? RIGHT.)


I CAN ALMOST SEE THE END OF MY STORY. I will also now proceed to knock on every item I pass that is wood. And do my homework so I don't have to worry about it while I'm trying to finish LAYLA AND THE HALF BLOOD HARPIES. Or that's a lie, because I hate homework.


*Current draft* word count of WIP:

30110 | 65000

the importance of being edited

Lately I've been baffled by under-edited books. Sometimes stories really do need another edit; it's Truth. I’ve read fully published books that feel more like first drafts—and unless you're a writing profesh, there's a pretty good chance your first draft sucks. And probably your second. Maybe even your third.

Embarrassing example: In my main writing focus (which was my first EVER), my MC didn't develop a palpable personality until the fourth or fifth draft. (They were all partials, but DANG.) She had her hints of wit and pinches of personality, but mostly it was just me trying to put a book together by writing out some kind of immense manifesto. But that's also how I got to know my characters and whittle them out. Like tiny wooden bear figurines, obvs.

It's important to get that massive over-detailing out of your system, if only so you learn how NOT to write, and so the words you've already written can be inspiration in later—better—drafts; that's the point where page-long descriptions and the vast majority of adjectives should get cut down (and hopefully characters develop personalities). Oh. And it's really okay for characters to purely "say" things. They don't always have to "agree" or say "angrily" or "carefully" . . . or is all of that just from MY past drafts? It's totally possibly. Make sure it doesn't happen to your final drafts by EDITING! And then EDITING some more!

Last thing (which I'm sort of stealing from my creative writing class): Dialogue’s an awesome way to show readers what the story's trying to say. It avoids over-explanation—and the readers going, "Oh my Calliope, muse of epic poetry; I GET it."

Happy writing! Please don't punch me (if you actually read this)!

*ALSO! It's mine and Harpy Layla's one-year anniversary. I hear a margarita being blended tonight!

monotonous? me?

EDIT: Given the fact that I've become a better writer (a girl can dream) since posting the original snippet of LAYLA: FAST TIMES AT MOUNT MYTHICAL, I'll post a scene from the latest draft instead. Without further (or, y'know, any) ado:

“I’m not a millionaire, you know.”

“Well what do you suppose we do?” Cam mocks. “Molt into butterflies and flit up into the ether?”

“Butterflies don’t molt.”

We’ve made it as far as the end of the driveway, grazed by a weeping willow on the sidewalk, where Cam stopped me when he learned I don’t have a car. I’m currently worth like thirty dollars; of course I don’t have a car. According to Cam, our plans are now ruined. I’ve also learned his full name is Sycamore. Sycamore.

He makes an odd face. “Yes they do.”

“I can’t believe your mom is forest spirit-y and you don’t know that caterpillars transform into their less fuzzy counterparts. Snakes molt.”

“Well, unfortunately for me right now,” he says, resting an elbow on our mailbox, “my dad was a god of the land, not of the air.”

“So you–” Oh. Shit. I just heard what he said. “You don’t mean that literally, right? Your dad’s a . . . land god, as in . . . a really great lumberjack or farmer or . . . something.”

Cam does that sheepish back-of-the-head-scratch thing in reply.

“But wouldn’t you think gods can’t –” I shut my mouth as quickly as I can, but I think he hears last word anyway. – die.

His muddy green eyes turn up to the purplish sky. “They can, as it turns out.”

That's it! Hopefully-Line is still set for Thanksgiving. . .

but I digress. . .

Whatev-line has come . . . and gone.

Am working on six different stories. SIX. Is that normal? I actually DO like all of them, so that's probably a good sign.

'Til the next.