10 Books You Should Read Before You Die

“Giving Good Book One Story At A Time… Copywritten by the year of the Nutty Butter”

If I were to Ever Forsake Writing and Live a Life of Crime

I’d rob an Office Depot. Laugh now, but just wait until I’m swimming in a sea of neon-orange post-its.

So, question: If you weren’t doing what you were doing now, what would it be?

The One Thing I Missed While Writing a Young Adult

SEX.

I don’t know about other romance writers, but I have to remember what it’s like to feel sexually attracted to someone. Lynne has to tap into this primal feeling which means I have to get in the mood to write in this way.

What do I do?

This never fails me:

By Now You Should Have The Very Sad News

I lost YA Magic in the crash. Yeah, the book I slaved over during NaNo. Yup, I’m pissed and sad. Yup, I’m thinking about buying a very large bottle of wine to drown my sorrows in. But that’s not what I want to talk about today. Lets talk about when is a book worth re-writing.

As some of you recall I dreamt this book right before NaNo. The idea wouldn’t leave me alone, and I was bombarded with details. I had to write this story for the reason the idea was beyond cool. Now what I didn’t expect was how much I learned from writing this book. A fantasy, a YA fantasy, no less was way out of my comfort zone.  At least to myself I’ve wanted to stretch my writing wings.  I also wanted to know if I could write 50k in a month.

I now know this, but is the story worth re-writing? *Let me make a list*

1. I already have an idea and plot for a second book in this series.

2. I have A LOT of notes while I was writing this book. The notes include the rules of the world, actual scenes, turning points, and a cast list.

3. I believe I know these characters enough to flesh them out.

4. I was going to re-write a lot anyway during the revision process, anyway.

5. I’m stubborn and the thought of just letting this book go because of computer issues feels like giving up.

5. I love this book and it still won’t let me go.

This last reason is enough for me to pull up my big girl panties and write this story again. I’ve only re-written one other book before, and that was my first book. The set of facts were completely different, but the bottom line is that I loved that book, I believed in that book enough to re-write it.

Funny I don’t think non-writers could understand how much goes into writing a book. It’s much more than putting words on the page.  Cian and Jalani are real to me. Right now it just feels like I pushed pause on the story that they want to tell. They deserve to have their story.  But first, Lynne’s story. She’s been waiting long enough.

Oh, and this is all I have left of the story *sob, I tried to be brave, but….*: 

“Are you levitating me or am I doing it?”

“You’re doing it, I’m just giving you the extra boost.” She started to ease off the boost, but he stayed leveled. She smiled down at him. “So, Superboy, how does it feel?”

He placed his hands behind his head and smirked. “Not bad. This is pretty cool.”

She eased off all her powers and he dropped an inch and then fell to the pillows when the spurt of fear took over what he had been doing naturally. She sighed. “Well, I wouldn’t buy a cape just yet.

My Computer Flipped Me the Birdie

Hence my prologued silence. First it started with my internet acting wonky. Then I had to restart my computer every time I wanted a connection. That lasted for 20 minutes of pure Internet bliss.

And, that’s when it happened, my computer wouldn’t start up like it used to. I did what would give any computer geek an attack–I repeatedly hit the power button. It finally dawned on me I should save all my important docs, if not my programs and restore my WHOLE FREAKING SYSTEM. After 14 hours…

Now I’m pretty much crossing my fingers it worked. So if you don’t hear from me…my computer, once again, has flipped me the birdie.

An 11 Day Break and I’m Already a Wimp

Today was my first day back at the rat race. It’s 6:32 and it feels like someone beat me with a dead horse.  How in the hell did I do it all day every day. A 40 hour week job. Two kids. Writing. School.

I’m buying me a tranquilizer gun and shooting myself with it.

Tapping Into the Honest Part of Me, Part Tres

So, after all this time it dawned on me, I want to write fluff when it comes to my contemporary romance.  Well, fluff that covers up deep issues. I want to pull in my reader with the laughter and do an upper-cut with emotions. I want to write books heavy with dialogue, but when I write that stuff in between I don’t want it to just be window dressing.

Basically I want to be a romance author. Who writes the funny well. Writing funny is hard as hell. For me at least I have to be in a dark mood to get the snark just right. Again, for me, when times get rough I don’t get woe is me, I get funny as hell. Make you pee in your pants funny. I want my writing to be funnier than me in real life. I seem to can’t get past that I need to be open when I write. Literally, I put up a guard when I sit down to write.  It’s thin, but it’s there. And that thin barrier keeps me from writing the things that are truly funny.  I second guess the spur of the moment funny, poignant, life-changing for myself and the character. All for fear that the reader won’t like it. That the true me will be rejected.

Now if that’s not honest I don’t know what. I’m finally getting to the point in my life where I’m liking the me I’ve turned out to be.  I’m pretty cynical, nit-picky , it takes a lot to impress ME. So why is it so hard for me to believe the average Jane won’t like the real me that I can put in my books? Or more to the point, why am I putting that same “maybe they won’t like you” personality cap on my characters?

The fact is it circles right back to me. I give every character a piece of myself. Sooner or later those pieces could probably make up Melissa.  Talk about a writing block inducing fear.

But, ya know, I’m going to tell myself no one will ever read this book, so who gives a flying fig. Probably will end up being the best book I’ve written. Might be the worse, but it’s the leap of faith that matters the most here.

Have you taken a leap of faith lately?

Tapping Into That Honest Part of Me, part II

“You don’t know where you are going, until you know where you’ve been.”

Not sure who said it, but it’s one of the things I believe. I love history. I watch the History channel. I read the captions in text books. I’m hungry for all the hard lessons learned. Plus, I just love a story in any form you give it to me. So, it’s no surprise that I’m obsessed with my own family’s history.

*Back story* My mother was four months pregnant when my grandmother died of a heart attack. When my mother and father went to pack up her apartment there were stacks of books every where. I didn’t know this fact until my mother stepped into my room one day. Of course, I just began my love affair with books. I was getting ready for bed and I had just got some books from the library. And, if you are book lover you know those “new” books must be tried on for size. All of them. In my bed. My mother paused and muttered something along the lines of, “Ohh, you just like Willie Mae.”

Yes, that’s my grandmother’s name. Willie Mae. She grew up in Gibsland, Lousiana. A town famous for the Bonnie and Clyde final showdown. I never met her. I can’t recall if she ever touch my mother’s stomach while pregnant with me. I do know some days my mother can’t look at my handwriting without getting misty-eyed. I have an affinity to make a homage in every book to her ’cause I like to think I inherited this loving for reading trait from her, along with full cheekbones.

Outside of those fun fact I’m not sure what this has to do with tapping into the honest part of me. It was something on my mind, so I’m following a gut instinct in a few days, months it’ll make sense. Of course, my mind is still swirling with story details, little things that will make the story come to life. And, I’m thinking maybe the hero will have gone to Grambling University. Another homage.

Again, I won’t know. But here’s something for you to chew on: What things in your family history has shown up in your life at odd times?

Oh, and here is Willie Mae Lyons.

Tapping In That Honest Part of Me

This has been an ongoing struggle for me. I can’t get to this place in my writing easily. It takes about 20,000 words before I can hit this sweet spot with my characters.  It’s the reason why my revisions are fleshing out the emotions. I do emotions. Like most people I’m scared to open that flood gate ’cause it may never close.

But the crazy thing is I believe that’s why I write. So I can have a safe place to open that flood gate. In my head I believe I have control over that flood gate in my writing place. When I write THE END I’m closing that flood gate. It’s also the reason why it takes me so long to write another story. I know I’m not only going to facing a blank page, but whatever emotion I need to deal with at the time. I know I’m going to be pulling off the scabs of old wounds and letting myself bleed again.

And the underlining fear is that when I’ve bleed all that there is to bleed what will I write then. Maybe that next story is my last and I would have dealt with all my demons. My friend said to me last night that writing is a very personal experience. That’s why rejections do take a toll. Bad reviews do get under the skin. I put a piece of true self out there and someone doesn’t like it. Ouch.

Yeah, I know, deep thoughts, but it’s where my head is at. I’m thinking about what emotions I’m going to have to pull out with Lynne.  I know from experience snark covers old wounds. I’m picking at a scab hers and therefore one of mine. So, I’m scared and excited to see what’s going to bleed.

Anyway, how do you get yourself into that honest place?

Make a Left At Snark

Sidenote: There is something about desperation that gets the muse awake.