Saturday, December 9, 2017

Of Brush Fires and Distractions While Writing

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So my week hasn’t exactly been normal, starting on Tuesday right before lunchtime when my son-in-law had to grab the baby and the cat and literally drive out of their apartment complex parking lot as fire was burning down the hillside above. (Sometimes the mandatory evacuation orders don’t arrive until a few hours after you needed to be OUT, so stay aware if you live in a brush fire zone!).  My daughter and her family sheltered here all week in my apartment and we did our best to make it as stress-free as we could, all the while wondering what the fire was doing. 0% contained for two days…fortunately the huge winds forecast for two nights ago never did materialize in our vicinity and the wonderful firefighters got a handle on the fire. I’m always supremely grateful to the men and women of the various fire departments involved when these brush fires start up. (Well grateful to them anytime, of course but especially during the grueling fire ‘season.’) Our little drama has a happy ending – the mandatory evacuation order was lifted today, the apartment complex didn’t burn and now they are back at home.

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The baby was resilient, as babies are, although plainly puzzled by various things, including two ‘new kitties’ (mine) who did not wish to be petted…the lack of his crib, his toys….

I got no writing done. Too much else needed doing! I did manage to keep my commitments on blogs and other activities but my hero and heroine of the next book are stuck in limbo. (I did have a new release on Monday – details below – a new series starter!).

In general, I prefer to write in silence, at my desk, with sleeping cats strategically located nearby. I could never write in a coffee shop or other public place. I like to sink into my own zone, be in the flow and just write….I can block out distractions, but I’d rather not have them there to begin with! When I was younger I used to write to a soundtrack, nothing particular, just an endless mixtape of my favorite songs, but starting a few years ago I found that was too distracting.

The blurb for the new book, Aydarr (A Badari Warriors SciFi Romance Novel): Sectors New Allies Series Book 1:
Jill Garrison, a maintenance tech at the Sectors Amarcae 7 colony, goes to sleep one night as usual only to wake up in her nightgown stranded in the middle of a forest on an unknown world. There’s no time to think as she’s stalked by carnivorous predators and rescued by genetically engineered warriors calling themselves the Badari. Turns out they and she, along with her whole colony, are now prisoners of the Khagrish, a ruthless race of alien scientists. Working for enemies of the Sectors, the Khagrish have created the Badari to be super soldiers.

Aydarr, the Badari alpha, isn’t sure he can trust Jill but his attraction to her is undeniable. He impulsively claims her as his mate to prevent her death at the hands of the Khagrish.

Can he continue to protect her from the experiments already underway?  Will his claiming her put his pack in jeopardy from their alien masters?

As Jill searches for a way to rescue her fellow humans and get them all to safety, she finds herself falling for Aydarr, despite the secrets he’s keeping. She has a few of her own.

The situation becomes dire when Aydarr and his pack are sent offplanet on a mission, leaving Jill unprotected, prey for the senior scientist. Can she escape the experiments he has in mind for her? Will she be able to thwart the Khagrish plans and liberate humans and Badari alike? How will she and Aydarr reunite?

A quick excerpt as the novel begins:
Why am I lying face down on the wet grass in the rain?
Jill rolled over, putting a hand to her forehead in an attempt to quell a ferocious headache. Opening her eyes gingerly, she blinked at the vividly colored pink, purple and blue leaves on the tree above her, which certainly had never grown on Amarcae 7. She’d been all around her home colony on various repair jobs, and nothing there had riotous leaves in these colors, much less with spikes at the tips. As she watched, one of the leaves snapped into a tight roll to capture a slow moving insect.
“Thank the Lords of Space I’m too big a bite.” Wary, nauseous, she sat up, swaying a bit, and examined her unfamiliar surroundings. She was in the midst of an old growth forest, with other forms of vegetation besides the carnivorous trees but nothing recognizable.

A loud roar in the distance gave her the shivers, and she forced herself to stand, staggering a few feet to lean on a less colorful tree’s broad trunk to stay upright. Despite the rain, her mouth was dry, and she had a hard time swallowing. “What the seven hells?”

Her mind was curiously blank, no memory of how she’d gotten to this place, or what had happened in the last few hours. She guessed it might be late afternoon here, from the glimpse she got of the white sun above the horizon, before the clouds drifted in front of the orb again. She refused to contemplate the fact that the star providing heat and light to her colony was yellow. If the sun here was white hot, the reality of where she stood, lost in the galaxy, was terrifying.

She remembered eating dinner in her small modular house on the edge of the colony, falling asleep watching an adventure trideo she’d seen a hundred times then…nothing.

                “And now I’m here.” She took a closer look at her left arm and did a double take. A black bracelet she’d never seen before was solid against her skin just above the wrist, with no visible hinge or fastening. As she gawked at it, prying at the edges in an increasingly desperate attempt to make the band move, flickers of red and yellow pulsed inside the cool, hard surface. The bracelet and what it might mean scared her more than the loss of short term memory or even the unknown sun above her.

                The roar came again, closer, and was answered by another. Something hunting me maybe?  Distracted from the ominous mystery of the bracelet, she was briefly tempted to try climbing the tree, but the lightheadedness persisted. Also, the smooth trunk didn’t offer anything in the way of handholds. She pushed off, realizing she was barefoot, wearing her short, pink-and-black nightgown, molded to her body by the rain. Lingerie was her secret luxury after a day spent in technician’s coveralls, but certainly not suited to this experience.

                Am I dreaming? She paused, gazing at the sky and pushing her damp hair off her face. The shower had tapered off and now the sun was shining but an ominous gray storm front was advancing. A bolt of lightning arced across the sky, and Jill broke into a zigzag run, forcing her body to respond to her terror. Standing anywhere close to a giant tree in a thunder storm was a recipe for disaster.

I’m in a nightmare, not a dream, but it’s all too real.


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Friday, December 8, 2017

Here to Breathe the Vacuum

One of my girls was diagnosed with cancer on her ear and had a bit of surgery to handle it. Here's Cuillean, post surgery with her radical ear tip. Fortunately, this was a mast cell tumor and surgery is pretty much a cure in cats. Yay.

She wants you to know the other guy (the vet) looks much worse. ;)

Writing habits.
Solitary or company for writing? Yes. Usually both at the same time. Couple of ways that goes down.
  1. 5AM while everyone else is asleep. But they ARE still present. So I'm not sure what this is, really. Vacuum or company. My only interaction is with the cats who wander through for the occasional pet.
  2. Coffee shop/tea shop where no one knows me. I'm in a public, but I create private space by holing up with my drink, my earbuds, and a screen to hid behind. And I do not make eye contact. No interaction, except with a barista for my drink. Maybe that doesn't count.
  3. The bench on the screened in porch. This is my current favorite. Everyone else has gone off to day jobs. My alarm goes off and I sit down to work in silence. Except, I'm online with a partner and we're doing an hour of writing sprints. Communication is limited to "Go", "Time", and a report on how many words we each managed during the time. It's a little like having a work out routine. You may pay money to belong to a gym, but it doesn't mean you go. If you know you have a friend or a coach waiting for you, though, you'll haul your butt out of the warm bedclothes. In this case, it's a way to be accountable to someone else about hitting your word count goals for the day. This one is the true hybrid experience. I'm alone, but still interacting with other writers. And if one of us gets really, really stuck, we schedule a Skype session to talk out the stuck bits. Works really well. 
Granted, my ultimate goal is to be able to write anywhere. Haven't achieved that, yet. All I care is that the words happen and I exercise the focus muscles. Stretch them, maybe. Writer yoga. The more focus stretches, the better and longer and stronger the focus.

Thursday, December 7, 2017

The Work Space for my Head Space

I do not have the luxury of being especially twee about my writing space.  For various logistical reasons, I do not have a permanent desk or workspace.  So I've got to be a writing nomad, moving to whatever flat surface I can find.  That's what I've gotten used to, and I've managed to make it work for me, even though it can be rather frustrating at times.

So, for me to get into the creative headspace, it takes a certain degree of focus.  Distractions or interruptions tend to knock me out, and I need to start over again.  So I do my best to minimize them.  Oddly, working in public can be a good thing for me, as long as it's a public space where I'm not expected to interact much.  Coffee shops are good.

BUT, I need the focus, and that means a good set of headphones.

Nothing is more critical in terms of centering me, regardless of where I'm working.  If I can drown out the world and give myself a good dramatic score or thumping baseline, then everything comes together.

That's it.  As long as I have the comfortable place to sit and the outside world can be shut out with a good beat?  I can work miracles.  Everything else?  That's extra.

(Not that I don't want an office of my own.  I so do.  I will also happily accept any offers for writing retreats, if anyone wants to make them.  The advantage of being a Writing Nomad is I can easily go anywhere, including a remote lakeside cabin in the mountains.  If, you know, you've got one of those.)

And speaking of, new works won't write themselves.  Time to get to work.

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

I'll Stay Home, Thanks


When it comes to writing, I can be very much like an old hobbit on party day.

In fact, I would rather write in my car than in a coffee shop.

I can work better cramped in the car, in the cold, and in the dark than I can if venture inside a warm and toasty establishment of any kind. Because PEOPLE are in there.

I've tried. But there is no avoiding those people. They talk... about their lives, their daily trials, their dirty laundry - or other people's. They bring their children, who sit far enough away from mom and dad to think they have some kind of freedom, but they either sit there doing the same noisy things or they poke each other and giggle.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.

Even with earbuds, the music wanes every few minutes and I cannot avoid hearing them. Or they move about drawing my notice. Or they encroach on my bubble.

Or someone among the crowd seems...off...and I suddenly don't feel safe letting my guard down enough to focus on the work. 

To that end, many hours have passed with me in the driver's seat, laptop wedged between me and the steering wheel as I await my son to come out of either his parkour class, his acting class, the dentist, the barber, or any of the other places I have to take him. But given my druthers, I'll work in my office, thanks. Where the coffee is just how I like it. The music is just as I like it. The heater or fan is on just as I like it. And the creativity is unencumbered.

Tuesday, December 5, 2017

Get Away From Me: Writing in the Oubliette


I laughed when this topic came up. I am definitely one of those writers who can't deal with distractions. Writing in public places is not going to yield much of a word count. I might get a whole fifteen words written. I'm too on edge, too alert to the happenings around me to sink into the brain space of creativity.

I much prefer to write in a cave, usually a dark cave where the blackout curtains are drawn, a lone lamp lends the barest hint of light, and no people are anywhere near. None. Nope. I'm a curmudgeonly vampire in that respect...okay, in many respects. Yes, the dog will force me into the light just long enough so he can pee, but then it's back to the oubliette where I am most productive.

That's right folks; when I have a hot date with my imaginary friends, it takes a lot of alone time to get them fit for public.  Don't worry, it's not you.  It's us.


Monday, December 4, 2017

The Bell Jar

The question is which do we prefer, writing in a vacuum or writing where we can have interaction.

That is painfully easy for me. I prefer to write in silence, or with the radio playing softly I need to be alone with my thoughts as much as possible if I am going to accomplish anything, In point of fact, I have started turning off the internet to avoid the distractions.  y all means, when I'm thinking about a project, chat away. Interact. be friendly. When I am actually writing, I nee the quiet.


So Tuesday sees THE LAST SACRIFICE released as a mass market trade paperback. I'm good with that. A month later FALLEN GODS comes out I'm good with that, too!

In other news, I'm editing an anthology of horror stories with Christopher Golden, It is an open market anthology. There are no spaces reserved for marquee names. The anthology will actually have completely blind submissions. We don't know who wrote it until we accept it.

We are doing a kickstarter to work up the cash flow, because, you know what? Publishers don't buy anthologies without big names. If you are interested in submitting I'll put up the proper address when the time comes. In the meantime,, if you write horror the only guideline is 3,000 words or more and make it your best. Paying professional rates. If you are interested in contributing, the address is right here: https://www.gofundme.com/the-twisted-book-of-shadows

Keep smiling,

Jim  

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Listening for the Quiet Voice of Creativity



AMID THE WINTER SNOW, an anthology of fantasy romance holiday novellas is now available for pre-order! It releases December 12, 2017 and contains four all-new, meaty novellas in each of our fantasy worlds. Early reviews have called it "gorgeous," which I just love.

As the snows fall and hearths burn, four stories of Midwinter beginnings prove that love can fight its way through the chillest night…

THE DARKEST MIDNIGHT, by Grace Draven
The mark Jahna Ulfrida was born with has made her a target of the cruel and idle all her life. During the long, crowded festivities of Deyalda, there’s nowhere to escape. Until a handsome stranger promises to teach her to save herself…

THE CHOSEN, by Thea Harrison
In her visions, Lily sees two men fighting for her tiny country’s allegiance: the wolf and the tiger, each deadly, each cunning. One will bring Ys chaos and death, one a gentler path—but she’s destined to love whichever she chooses. The midwinter Masque is upon them, and the wolf is at her door…

THE STORM, by Elizabeth Hunter
When her soul mate died in a massacre of the half-angelic Irin people, Renata thought she’d never feel happiness again. She’s retreated to the snowy Dolomites to remember her hurts—until determined, irrepressible Maxim arrives to insist on joy, too. And before she can throw him out, they discover a secret the Irin have to know…

THE SNOWS OF WINDROVEN, by Jeffe Kennedy
As a blizzard threatens their mountain keep, the new Queen Amelia of the Twelve Kingdoms and her unofficial consort Ash face their own storm. Ash knows a scarred, jumpy ex-convict isn’t the companion his queen needs. But when a surprise attack confines them together in their isolated sanctuary, the feast of midwinter might tempt even Ash into childlike hope…


We've been getting an amazing response, so thanks to everyone who's already pre-ordered!

Our topic this week is writing in a vacuum—which is better for you, writing in a closed space or writing where people can interact with you?

This is a short and easy answer for me, because I'm a vacuum kind of gal. I like total silence and minimal distractions. I keep my desk pretty well cleared off. I have a long and peaceful view down the Galisteo Basin to the mountains. My very favorite is if no one else is in the house.

If I can get a lot of quiet psychic space, that's ideal.

I can write on airplanes, or in Starbucks, if that's the only way I'm going to get the wordcount in, but I'm happiness with utter quiet. I believe that's the best way to let the subconscious speak. Sometimes the voice of creativity whispers. In total silence, I hear it best.

Friday, December 1, 2017

Book Nostalgia

So this happened. 

It's a cover for a short story that I'd written some time ago for an anthology edited by former blog member James Ray Tuck Jr. I've had rights back for a bit and the story just sat there because I couldn't, for the life of me think what to do with it. 


Until I got tired of having dreams about pissed off lions. So I commissioned this lovely cover and published the story to Kindle Unlimited. Mostly because I'd never published anything there before. Look at me swimming in unfamiliar water. Really, I just adore the cover. So I had to show it off. Made by the fabulous Danielle Fine at By Definition.

As for book nostalgia, let's see if I can keep from repeating myself. I doubt I can. 



1. The Witch of Blackbird Pond - I got on a kick at one point of reading all of the Newberry award
winners as a kid. It paid off. This one stuck with me. And hey. Late grade school, when I picked the book up, alienation and learning to adapt were big themes. I got Kit. Still do.


2. The Island of the Blue Dolphins - Tough story, but gorgeous writing and that was enough for me. It's one of those books that haunts you and it made me start making up stories about how I'd have gone out there to get Karana off the island. There may have been pirate ships and bargains with the devil in some of those stories. So I guess my adult brain didn't fall far from the little kid apple tree.

This last one is a cheat because it's three books in a box set.
3. The Wizard of Earthsea - though, frankly, it looks like the little blue-gray box set I have doesn't exist any more. So no secret that I love Ursula K. Le Guin's work. I cop to reading this trilogy when I was far too young, probably, to appreciate it for anything more than the series of events and adventures that happened. Yet, as often happens with content that's packed far fuller than a reader is consciously aware, the stories and characters stuck in my head and kept unpacking bits of the subtext and layers I'd been too young to comprehend. That meant I could go back and reread the trilogy and have a new experience each time. So yeah. I read Le Guin to have my cranial capacity expanded as much as for the love of great story.

And now, back to the word mines. I have a thing to finish. And by all the gods, it will end before the end of this year or I'll die trying to wrap it. So let's do this thing.