Level Up Blogfest

Thank you to Mithrel Wisdom and Geek Banter for hosting the Level Up Blogfest. This is a great idea for blogfest. I didn't know what I wanted to write at first, but I knew I wanted to play.

I decided to take a look at what the phrase means to a writer, and I found a fun analogy. Hope you enjoy.

 ***

When you first start writing, you are not sure how to play the game. You've picked up the controller (the pen) and know that something is pulling you towards it. You want to explore it, see how you do. You press forward and as you come to obstacles, you have to learn how to leap. Oh, you get snagged by that first one, but you stand up, dust off, and try again.

As you navigate through the game, you gain experience. You get points for writing daily, points for editing, points for reading. Those things that once seemed so hard before, now are just tiny obstacles. It starts to become more difficult. Now you aren't just going through simple motions, you are attacking missions-- first draft, query letter, second draft, synopsis, third draft, agent, forth draft, publisher, fifth draft, readers. Each level a new mission.

Somewhere along the way, you realize that you can't beat it alone. You begin to search for other people on the same journey. A band of souls trying to survive each of those levels--just like you. You have to go into the vast web and find them, building a team. Next mission, blogging.

http://shirtoid.com/14324/coins-2/

 

Once again, experience becomes a virtue. You start with just trying to first find that one reader, and soon you are excited about your next milestone. The first 10, the first 50, the first 100! You keep playing, gaining more knowledge, more skills, better gear. Tricking out your blog with gadgets and banners. Proud of all your accomplishments. All those points are adding up, and your momentum feels unstoppable after you step into your first blogfest, which feels like a room full of treasure. 

You were unstoppable, but something shifts. You hit sluggish parts of the writing. You feel you have been stuck on one part for far too long. You consider giving up the game. Walking away from all of your work, away from all of your hours of dedication, away from what you once couldn't imagine being away from.

Should you put down the pen?

No. You don't. You keep trying. You may fall down into the same pit, over and over again. But you keep pressing, "play again." You push and push and you break through. You level up.
   
Image from anarchycamp.tumblr.com

Indie-kissing Blogfest & Vampire Bite Blog Hop

For Valentine's Day, I was torn between two great blog hops. So, I decided to do both. 

 The first is the Indie-kissing blogfest hosted by the Indelibles.   The excerpt I chose is from my newest WIP, The Wish. This scene is all about the kiss, so I will not bother you with any backstory. Hope you enjoy.

           In Nate’s eyes, Amanda sees her future. He is like a pair of blue jeans in a world full of suits, a comfortableness that she hasn’t felt before. It has been years since she has been ignited with passion.

            The night wind dances in her hair. The moon glistens off the pavement. Her mind runs through every reason why she shouldn’t be with him, but his chocolate eyes are melting her resolve. His luscious, pink lips look like a perfect landing pad if she would allow herself to fall.

             He eases towards her, as if he heard her thoughts.

             She slides her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down, making sure that her mouth is awake. Her body is tingling, a deep burn.

             “I shouldn’t,” he exhales with a trail of breath that tickles her cheek.

             “We really shouldn’t,” she whispers back.

             He pauses.

             She leans in closer.

             He closes his eyes, and then the gap between them.

             His lips are as soft as she’d imagined. The kiss starts gentle, slow, as if he is afraid he will break her. Her face is a porcelain egg that he cradles between his hands. He pulls back, looks into her eyes, and then leans into her once more. The kiss catches fire. 

The next blog hop is very different. So, maybe you should get a drink of water and cleanse your palet before continuing to read. Precious Monsters is hosting a Vampire Bite blog hop. Given that my first novel, Iron Thirst, is all about vampires -- it was a given that I would participate. The excerpt is actually the prologue. Adam Bristow sets the scene...

***

The night has just begun when I spot Gabriel locking his sights on his first victim. His trance-inducing stare caught her the moment she stepped into the bar. If he has his way, the curvaceous blonde will be in his bed in under an hour, and shortly after her blood will be staining his lips. 

Thursday night at DragonCon is when most of the guests check into their hotels and start the weekend with a drink in hand. For me, the first night of Con is when I begin my patrol while the out-of-towners descend upon our city. I’m not worried about the geeks, the costumed fans, or the party animals. My concern is very specific--those who are removing their disguises. Vampires get this weekend to be themselves, but there are rules, and this bloodsucker is dangerously close to breaking the first one--aggravating me.

His fangs are protruding, turned on by the blue-eyed soon-to-be donor. She doesn’t blink as she gravitates towards him. What irks me is that she’s an unwilling snack. There will be plenty of those, but I ain’t going to stand by and watch. She may be walking to him on her own two feet, but the brain in her head belongs to him.

What a lovely time to buy my dear old pal a drink.

“Hello, Gabriel.” I step between them, breaking their eye contact and the hold he has over her. The bastard snarls at me. “Run along, love,” I tell the blonde over my shoulder. 

She blinks a few times, lets out a heavy sigh, then scurries along to look for her friends. 

When I glance back, Gabriel has painted a smile on his face. “Bristow, if you continue to chase off my dinner then I will be forced to believe you are volunteering.” He leans in close. “Although, you’re not my taste. Your blood is much too bitter.”

No one likes a clever vampire. I pull the unlit pipe from my lips, and raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re not threatening me now, are ya?”

His smile vanishes. “I was not harming anyone, nor am I breaking any of your precious rules.” 

“That’s debatable, and I’m not really up to the debate. So, just behave yourself and you’ll live, well--exist, to see your two hundredth birthday.”

“Ahh, you flatter me, but I am not nearly that old.” His eyes flicker to a spot over my shoulder.

“Why, I recall my two hundredth birthday. So long ago,” I hear from behind me. The smooth Egyptian voice climbs up my spine like a spider. “I was a proud fighter alongside Sultan Al-Kamil the night we sustained Cairo. Those Christian boys looked just as surprised then as you do now.”

My fingers instinctively dance towards the butt of the gun holstered under my jacket, but Zamir’s hand is on my wrist before I can blink. “And Adam, what are you? A whole thirty-five? And heart still beating? Such a shame. We could help with that risky little problem.”

I jerk my hand free from his grasp. “I’ll keep my ticker tocking, thank you.”

I’m a rather smart bloke. I wouldn’t still be alive if I wasn’t. So allowing a thousand-year-old vamp to sneak up on me is just piss poor form. I turn to see the dark-skinned vampire, fangs extended, staring back at me. I haven’t seen Zamir in nearly ten years, and if I’m being honest, I ain’t thrilled at seeing him now. I take a step back so they are both in my sight. A vampire in periphery is an open invitation to empty veins.

“What brings you to Atlanta?” I ask Zamir, rubbing my palm over the prickly stubble that is my hair.  

“You a Stargate fan, or is Buffy more your style?”

 “Ah, my dearest Bristow, you do not seem happy to see me. No matter. Many of my progeny look expectantly upon this weekend, and I find myself wondering what all the chatter is about. Thought I would come and see for myself.”

Rubbish, I’m sure. “I’m on my early rounds making sure everyone keeps it copasetic. We want all the humans’ hearts beating and the secret safe. We got rules in this area. So, keep it peaceful.”

As I turn to walk away, Zamir says, “Adam, we are aware of your so-called rules, but I have my own laws that govern my actions and the actions of my people that take precedence over the lawyer’s little treaty. Maybe you should run along and check the more recent additions to our world.”

I hate the way his words crawl over my skin. I glance at Gabriel’s smug face, grinning as if he’s getting away with something. I didn’t work so hard on my reputation to allow a measly hundred-fifty-year-old vamp to get the better of me. I’d love nothing more than to knock him arse over elbow, but starting a fight on the first night over something as silly as pride would not be my best bet. Not without back up. Currently, the rest of my team is patrolling the other three hotels.

If the humans knew what was swarming DragonCon, they might have just stayed home behind locked doors. Not that a flimsy door would keep the monsters out.

For more excerpts from Iron Thirst, please click here. 

Re-Introduce Myself Blogfest

 

 Thank you to Mark Koopmans, Elise Fallson,  C.M. Brown, and Stephen Tremp for hosting the Re-Introduce Myself Blogfest. I thought I would have a little bit of fun with it, and do a multiple choice quiz. The answers are at the bottom of the page. Hope you enjoy guessing to see how well you might know me, and maybe learn a few new interesting facts about me along the way. 

1.       Who of the following would I rather hang out with (dead or alive)?

a.       Johnny Depp

b.      George Carlin

c.       Dick Chaney

d.      Edgar Allen Poe

2.       What is one of my irrational fears?

a.       Fear of the elevator door shutting on me.

b.      Snakes

c.       Bugs trying to climb on me.

d.      All of the above.

3.       What industry do I work in?

a.       Retail sales

b.      Financial/Brokerage

c.       Writing restaurant reviews

4.       If I didn’t have to work, what would I do with all the extra free time?

a.       Work on my novels, travel, and play tons of capoeira

b.      Buy drawers full of pajamas and invest in a great television and all the best cable channels.

c.       What? I would still work, because I love what I do.

5.       Where did I grow up?

a.       San Antonio, Texas

b.      Atlanta, Georgia

c.       Crossett, Arkansas

6.       Who am I rooting for in the Super Bowl?

a.       San Francisco 49ers

b.      Baltimore Ravens

c.       Most awesome commercial

7.       What is a movie I could watch over and over again?

a.       Star Wars movies

b.      Princess Bride

c.       Gone with the Wind

d.      All of the above

8.       What is one of my favorite songs of all time?

a.       Ice, Ice, Baby

b.      Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone

c.       Freebird

9.       Which of the following describes me best?

a.       Animal lover, tree hugger, and mountain climber.

b.      Financial analyst with strong analytical thinking, prefers charts and graphs over human interaction, and reads academic journals for fun.

c.       Mother of two, loves to write, needs music to breathe, uses humor to survive,  and who can be a bit too idealistic at times.

10.   What is my favorite place I have travelled?

a.       Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

b.      London

c.       Paris

d.      All of the above, I LOVE to travel.

11.   What is the most redeeming quality in a person and is required in all my friendships?

a.       Loyalty- My friends must be loyal to me, I do not tolerate betrayal. Off with their heads.

b.      A sense of humor – All my friends love to make people laugh or love to explore humor.

c.       Must think that I am freaking awesome.

12.   What is my favorite style of music?

a.       Anything labeled as Indie

b.      Rock, both heavy and soft

c.       World music

d.      Trick question, I love almost all music

13.   If I could be a superhero, what would be my superhero power?

a.       I would love to time-travel. Flash in and fix things from the past, save the world, prevent embarrassments, and invest really well in the stock market

b.      Mind Control- If I could control people with my mind, then well—I could just make people do whatever I wanted. I would be the most awesomest, awesome, superhero ever.

c.       What? I am Batman.

14.   What is my favorite sport?

a.       NASCAR

b.      Capoeira

c.       Football

15.   What do I love most about writing?

a.       Being able to say things the right way. You know how in real life, after many conversations you think, Dang, I should have said this, or I wish I hadn’t said that. In writing, until it is published – you have that ability.

b.      Exploring characters and their psychological makeups.

c.       Creating realistic dialogue.

d.      All of the above.

 

Three Beginnings: Writing, Iron Thirst, and Blogging

Below you will find my contribution to the Beginnings Blogfest, courtesy of L.G. Keltner over at Writing Off the Edge.

  ***

http://banoosh.com/2012/08/10/life-is-about-creating-yourself/

I didn’t grow up with visions ofbest seller lists dancing in my head. I had a wild imagination, but never madethe connections to becoming a writer. So it was quite the surprise to me when Ifinished the first three chapters of Iron Thirst (which was once IronObsession).

When I turned thirty, I startedtrying to “find” myself. Asking questions like – what is my purpose? Maybe itwas a third-life crisis (as opposed to mid-life, hope to make it past 60!),maybe it was the question of legacy – I don’t know. All I knew was that Ineeded answers.

I turned to God, and asked him.“Lord, I’ve been thinking. Trying to figure out the gifts that you gave me, andwhat you want me to use them for. Not to be rude, but I’m coming up short. I’mnot questioning you – ok, maybe a little. You seemed to be in a silly mood theday you picked my skills, because you put together some very odd choices andsome that I’m not sure that I could ever use in the real world.”

Here’s what I knew. I am an avidpeople-watcher. I enjoy watching how people relate to one another.  I canbe rather silly. I love to look at the world in new and unique ways, and pointthose out to others. I am empathetic to the point of ridiculousness. Seriously,why do I cry at cotton commercials? And with that comes the ability to putmyself in other people’s shoes. My imagination is a tad bit out of control (nomeds please). What “job” in this world could use these skills?? (If you knowthe answer, shh, don’t tell. She ain’t figured it out yet. That’s coming.)

So, off I went on my journey to“find” myself. Who would have thought that a kick-ass store in Decatur wouldhave the answer hanging on a wall? (Heliotrope, for the locals.) I walked inbrowsing, just killing time. Up on the wall was a print with the words thatwould slap me in the forehead. “Life is not about finding yourself. Life isabout CREATING yourself.”  “Hmmm,” was all I could say. I wanted thosewords. I wanted them tattooed on my backside, but knowing that I would want theworld to know them too – I decided against that. Running around mooning peopleis not my style.

One morning, I sat up in the bed andlooked at my doting husband and said, "Wouldn't it be cool if someonewrote a story about DragonCon? You know, playing on the idea that some of thefantasy exists there was actually real?" And instead of saying -"Woman, you're nuts!” he said, "That is a pretty cool idea."

I continued getting dressed and let the idea dance around a little more insidemy head. By the time I arrived at the office, I had pretty much laid out theoutline for the first chapter minus character names. When I arrived home thatafternoon, I read him chapter one. And so the journey began.

While working full time, going to school full time, and still being a prettydecent mother (who am I kidding, I rock!), I wrote the bulk of the novel inabout 4 months. The idea became much more than a book about DragonCon and morea love story that was plagued with obstacles while maintaining a humorous tone.My logic - laugh or the world will kill you. And in this story, oh does it try.

I had taken the message to heart. Notonly was I creating myself – I was creating other wonderful people and a worldfor them to live in. Their lives existed from my typing. The battles they facedrequired me to save them. They needed me, and I needed them. All that goofystuff, those unusable skills were suddenly so clear as to why I possessed them.And I’ve never felt closer to God than when I am writing.

I was very hush, hush about mywriting in the beginning. My husband knew what was going on. He watched mewrite, but beyond him, I didn’t tell a soul. I hid behind my keyboard at night– my dirty little secret.  I was terrified that if I said it out loud itwould stop. Or worse, people would think I flipped my skull. I mean – it wasjust a phase, right? Like marathon running, painting, or interpretive dance (ok– never did the last one, just making sure that you are paying attention.)

But it didn’t stop. I continued towrite, keeping my new passion hidden from the world. When I realized that thiswas more than just a fun past time – that it was a dream – I knew I would haveto go public. Come out of the writing closet. The book was nearly finished. Iwas halfway through act three. I made the leap and mentioned it to a friend atwork, and waited for the look. You know- THAT look, one eyebrow up, smirk,switch to dead-pan, “Oh, that’s nice.”

But it didn’t come. She was proud,excited, curious. Ok. Let’s try again.  New person. This one haddreams of being a writer and never made the leap. He had tons of questions ofhow to get started.  And as I continuedto share, I found more and more people who wanted to write, but didn’t knowwhere to start. So the blog was born.

So, three beginnings in one –how Ilearned I loved to write, how Iron Thirst came to fruition, and why the blogwas born.

So,tell me. How about you? Did you always want to be a writer? If you blog, whatmade you start? Did a character appear in the night, or did you mold them outof clay-slow and steady?

Recycled: The Conversation

Tune in on Wednesday, January 9th for the Beginnings Blogfest, courtesy of L.G. Keltner over at Writing Off the Edge. There is still time to participate if you'd so desire.


In the meantime, I am recycling an old post from my early days. Oddly enough, it is as fitting today as it was when originally written. Deeper oddity still, it is Iron Thirst and Touch of Light once again vying for the attention, meanwhile Blend sits idly by. Sad really, since Blend may be the best out of all them. Ah, as it goes. I figure since I'm going through this for the second time, it might resonante with some of you.  Hope you enjoy the post. 

The Conversation 
originally posted 11/3/2009

Now that book one is finished, well as finished as it can be right now, it’s time to pick up and start a new project. You’ll notice on the sidebar that Craving Copper is currently at 15,000 words. This is the sequel to Iron Thirst, and it’s already been started. I was working on it before I decided to go back and revise Iron Thirst. It is the most logical choice.

Then there is a new idea. Something that I have been mentally chewing on. A complete departure from Iron Thirst. This is the idea that I was talking about last week. It is the one talking to me and pulling at me. The problem here is that it scares me. This book is going to take me down some dark paths, some very unfamiliar terrain. On one hand, I am excited. On the other, I am terrified. Even though it is the project that is talking to me, I’m not sure I am ready yet.

But more on the fun side. I’ll give you a dramatization of what’s been going on.


THE CONVERSATION

Craving Copper stands arms crossed, toes tapping, clearing his throat in exasperation.

“What?” I ask.

“I think I’ve been more than patient.”

“You have, and I appreciate that.”

“Do you? It’s hard to tell since you started a whole new book. One that has nothing to do with us.”

“I know, I know. It’s just--,” I stare at my toes unable to look into the eyes of the betrayed. “He’s the one talking to me. You haven’t really opened up.”

I can feel the anger radiating from him.“You do realize that the only reason why I shut up is so that you could go back and clear up the unfinished business with Iron Thirst. You said you’d be right back. You promised!” He stomped his feet, matching each syllable.

Dear God, don’t let him cry. Wet pages are so hard to deal with. “It’s not that I’ve forgotten you. You are very important to me.”

Through wet eyes, he says, “But, shouldn’t you write about us right now. While all the voices are still so clear. Think of the tone.”

“I plan on writing about Fee and Blake and Bristow for a long time. I have ideas for at least two more books. Complete outlines.”

“So, are you bored with us? Is that it? Do you like this, this, Touch of Light better?”

Good grief. Books are just as sensitive and insecure as the writer. “All right, listen. Don’t be jealous of Touch of Light, I mean, that’s just a working title anyway. You have to take some responsibility for yourself.” He starts to interject, but I hold up my hand. “Let me finish. You can’t just blame it all on me. You shut down first. Say it was Iron Thirst, but you know as well as I do that if it was not perfect, you would never see the light of day.”

“So,” sniffles and wipes nose, “you’re saying that if I open up, if I talk—you’ll listen?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“I owe you that.”

“Thank you.” He gives me a joyous hug.

So after a little tough love, we are all in agreement. We’ll see what happens.