So, first of all I'm excited to announce that my short story Burned will be appearing in this month's Ethereal Tales. Yay! I love short story writing, so I'm always pleased when I actually get something published, and I'm especially pleased in this case because it's a Scarlett story. Scarlett and her gang of werewolves, necromancers, lost gods, and pyschics being my first writing love and all that.

Anyway, I've seen this on a few people's blogs, butkazdreamer  is encouraging everyone to do it, so here we are.

'I wish you were coming with me tonight.' - SILVER KISS (which is rolling along nicely, thanks!)

A fire storm was brewing. - Wonderland (which has stalled because I'm too lazy to work on the much-needed worldbuildling).

She ran through the forest, the metallic tang of blood in her nostrils - Wild (which one day I will finish rewriting because I love it, damn you).

The vampire slunk through the dead leaves and damp earth, a parody of the woman it had been in life - Death for the Born (don't really have any witty comments for this one).

 

13011 / 60000 words. 22% done!

I had a most productive Girton Write-In last night and added a hefty 3k to Silver Kiss. And my arm isn't even too sore this morning, which only adds to my smug sense of satisfaction.

I'm at that stage in the writing process where the more I write, the more I want to write. I've got to grips with most of the world-building - Pack laws and rituals, how the werewolves have integrated with the humans, all the fun stuff. Now it's time to bring on the Issues! Which Ayla has lots of! Apparently I can't write a werewolf story that doesn't have Issues. Lizzie, the heroine from Wild was addicted to heroin and accidentally killed her boyfriend (... but I've said too much ...). Christian, the werewolf in the Scarlett novels, is an irrepresible playboy with too much money and not enough morals.

So far Ayla hasn't taken any drugs, killed any of her loved ones, or slept around yet but hey, it's early days.

ETA: Squid can hear! Just further proof that they will one day be our masters. And I for one welcome our cephalopod overlords.

So I've recovered enough from watching Mega-Shark v Giant Octopus (except I dreamed about it all last night and haven't stopped thinking about it all morning) and now I've realised that I need to add a new subplot into Death for the Born. This is highly inconvenient given that it's out on submission and I'm still waiting to hear back from two agents with partials.

I guess if everyone rejects it, I can add in the new subplot and start over, but if everyone rejects it, is there any point? And I've learned from the epic mess of an ongoing rewrite that is Wild that adding in new subplots drives me mad. Grr. This is why I need to be working part-time. If I had more writing time, messy rewrites wouldn't annoy me so much because I wouldn't feel like I was cramming everything in around my damnable day job. I'd feel like I was cramming the day job in around my writing. Which would be much nicer.

Groan. I always eat too much when I spend the weekend at my parents'. I try to balance it out by going for long walks with Holly, but there's only so much damage I can undo. I got through a whole bag of Kettle Chips with Mum on Saturday night while we watched The Boy In the Striped Pyjamas. (The film isn't as good as the book, although bonus points for David Thewlis!) And then today there was cake and ice cream. Like, a lot of cake and ice cream. Good thing I didn't buy a whole load of new clothes last weekend ... Oh no, wait. I did.

On the plus side, I added 1000 words to the short I'm working on for Queered Fiction's gothic anthology. I've no idea if it's gothic enough, but it has a ghost and an all-girl boarding school and a chapel that was destroyed by fire in the 18th century, so... Another 1000 words or so should wrap up the first draft. And I spent a lot of time thinking about a shapeshifter novel that's been swimming around my head for the past week or so. I'd like to start working on it, if I wasn't already working on two other novels and if I wasn't planning to redraft Wild. What I really need is a sabbatical from work so I can put some real hours into all these projects.

Hmm, probably not about to happen. In the mean time, I have Friday 13th part 8 playing too loudly, so all is well.

ETA: Damn, apparently Victorian girls didn't go to boarding school. Why can't history just bend itself to my will?

* Bill Barnes and Gene Ambaum. This post has nothing to do with explosions, car chases, nudity or espionage. Sorry.

Anyway, I've been thinking for ages I need to write this post on how books are like boyfriends but then I signed up to Facebook and Twitter and the world disappeared... But now I'm sort of overwhelmed by Facebook and Twitter and have stepped back to write the post. So:

Books are like boyfriends (or girlfriends if that's how you roll). Writing a book is like being in a relationship, each one having a different affect on you. I take my own work as examples:

Fire and Moonlight: My first love, the novel I will forever see through rose-tinted glasses despite it's many faults. The one I measure all other ideas, characters, plots, and novels against, despite it's flaws. This is the novel I loved first, and after this I just loved love. Or novels. Or something. Whatever. It's inevitable that I will return to this and we'll kiss in the rain, or I'll write it in the rain or something.

Wild: This is the bastard boyfriend/novel who made your life miserable but you loved him/it anyway and you keep daydreaming about getting back with him/it even though he/it took drugs and probably cheated on you with other women/novels. I'm convinced I can make this book work. It just needs a year of rehab and some anger management.

Death for the Born: This is the current relationship, and whilst everything seems to be going well now and we're having fun and he/it makes me laugh, I have a sneaking suspicion it will all be over soon. Because, you know, I'll finish the redraft and have to send it out to agents. And it's like that whole "if you love something, set it free" and you sit at home and chew your fingernails and wonder what your life would be like if you'd stuck with that drug-taking bastard/novel from before.

Night and Chaos: Now, this is destined to be a short relationship because it's only a novella, and it's like that guy I dated at university where I knew we'd break up when I graduated but I didn't really care. It's fun, it's sweet, but it's not serious and it's never going to take the place of the first love. Or even the drug-taking bastard/novel.

Okay, I'm probably not making much sense. I did put a lot of Baileys in my hot chocolate tonight. But I think I have a valid point in here somewhere. You develop relationships with your WIPs. After all, they're in your life for quite some time and they take up a lot of your energy. And you're always holding out for The One that will be perfect and take you away to Paris for the weekend win you that elusive publishing contract. So here's to promiscuity of the writing kind!

Oh, and this is the first picture that came up when I Googled "nudity and espionage." So, you know ... enjoy ...

(That title has nothing to do with the post. I just thought it had been a while since I had a picture of Dr Zoiberg on here, so...)

Anyway, I knew I shouldn't have made a schedule. Because now I'm going to tear it up. I have new plans for Wild (thank you, TWC) which will require a third, pretty extensive redraft, and frankly I'm reaching burn-out with this book. I love it and I want it to sell, but I need a break from it. I'm giving myself the rest of August and all of September off, and I'm going to fiddle with Death to the Born and play with a few new ideas that have been rattling around my brain instead.

My deadline for September's Explorer horoscopes is tomorrow and I've done nothing. Nothing! Not even glanced at my tarot cards for inspiration. I'll be doing some hardcore horoscoping tonight. And now that Pip and I have finished all our Lost dvds, I have one less excuse for not getting things done.

I suspect it may never be, and I might have to accept one day that there comes a stage when you just have to say "I've rewritten enough." But that day is still far away, so lets look at the facts:

Chapters rewritten: 24
Drinks spiked with LSD given: 1
LSD-induced maggot hallucinations experienced: 1
Ears bitten off: 1

So, I am now over halfway through the Wild redraft. Lizzie is struggling desperately to convince her family she's not taking heroin anymore, and her family are struggling desperately to remove her from the house. I just thought of another subplot to stick in, so I may never actually finish writing this book, and my RSI is giving me hell, so my hand my fall off long before anything is resolved anyway. 

Chapters revised: 21 
Zombie hunts attempted: 1
Zombie hunts successfully completed: 0 
Number of times Lizzie has been kicked out of someone's house: 1 
Number of times Lizzie has kicked someone out of her house: 1 

This Friday is tooth-yanking day, after which I have a week off work to recover from all the trauma. I'm hoping to get loads more done on Wild then. Watch this space... 

I sorted out extra accommodation for RNA. Huzzahs all round! And my stay there may be further aided by the fact that I'm having my wisdom teeth taken out the week before and will probably need a week off work after that. In theory, that means I can travel to Chichester at my leisure, swollen and bruised face notwithstanding. Sometimes Fate does provide for me. Although, I have to say, I'm kind of dubious about the whole thing. This is an approximation of the referral form I was shown at the hospital:

Reason for removal of wisdom teeth: Prevent pain, infection to gums.

Possible after-effects of removal: Pain, infection to gums.

Not promising...

On the plus side, I finally figured out what to do with Harris' mistress and it's awesome! And will involve a fight at a funeral, which will be awesome! In a grave, dignified manner, of course.

Get me. After a mini-marathon session on Wild last night and this morning, I'm now officially over a quarter of the way through the redraft. Only 60k-ish words to go! I think it will definitely need a third sweep though. Up until this weekend, I had a long scene where Lizzie goes to buy drugs from a woman who turns out to be Harris' bit on the side. The scene and the woman have major implications for the rest of the plot ... and now they're gone. I have a choice of cutting the woman out of the entire novel, or finding some other way to layer in Harris' affair. And I can't possibly make those kind of decisions at this stage because I'm too busy cramming other shiny exciting things into the plot.

So:

Chapters revised: Twelve, if we discount the amount of chapter-splicing I've been doing. Fourteen if we don't.
Number of people Lizzie has hit in the face since I last did this: Three.
Number of people who have hit her back: One.
Levels of ominous foreboding: Through the roof. I'm past the point of foreboding. Now it's just regular boding.

22,127 / 85,000 (26.0%)

I can't believe Latvia didn't win the Eurovision Song Contest. Everyone loves pirates, right? Maybe it was unpatriotic of me not to want the UK entry to win, but our song was crap. This ... this was genius.



Speaking of wolves, the rewrite of Wild continues apace, although I should point out that my word metre lies. The total wordcount right now is 80481k, thanks to all the hacking and slashing I've been doing. But I'm getting to some of the really cool, big plot adjustments, so I'm sure I'll make up for the lost words. It's all tension!action!excitment! right now. Will Lizzie ever dump Harris? Why do strange men keep following her on her manic runs through the city? WIll she ever satisfy her desire for a cheeseburger?

18,682 / 85,000 (22.0%)

 OMG, you guys. You guys, OMG. Go and buy A Rush of Wings by Adrian Phoenix. Go now. Go right now. Seriously, when have I ever lead you astray? You go buy it, I'll wait here.

Okay, you're back? You got a copy? Good. Moving on. Yesterday I cut almost a chapter and half out of Wild, which was painful. Hopefully what I replaced it with is good and adds to my "spice up the plot" quota. I'm not sure yet. It's like I'm halfway through conducting a major operation and I've had to stop because I can't remember if I'm taking out the heart or the liver. I do think a lot of what I'm cutting out is unnecessary waffle (or bad cholesterol, if you will), but it's quite scary to think I might be replacing it all with even more unnecessary waffle. Let's look at the evidence:

Chapters rewritten: 10. Technically it's twelve, but I cut one chapter altogether and merged two more into one.
Menacing encounters with werewolves: 3
Number of times Lizzie has resolved to quit drugs/break up with Harris and failed to do so: Countless.
Sinister predictions of Doom from strangers: 2
References to teenagers being killed by clowns: 1

8,391 / 85,000 (9.9%)

Look at the slow creeping forward of my word meter for Wild! Yes, it is shiny, it does excite. I'm making some rather huge changes to the basic plot and it's a frustratingly slow proceedure to chop out massive chunks of writing and fit in new pieces, and then make sure the new pieces mesh with the original. But I'm getting there. Let's look at the evidence:

Chapters revised: Four.
Drugs used (not by me): Heroin, cocain, morphine (for medicinal purposes), cannabis.
Deaths: One.
Werewolf sightings: Two.
Punch-ups: One.
Instances of eerie foreshadowing: Too numerous to count.

(BTW, Rogue by Rachel Vincent? OMG. Somebody else hurry up and read it so I can talk about it with you.)

Ricia's about eight chapters away from the end of Wild and her verdict so far is good writing, predictable plot. I'm now frantically trying to think up things I can throw in to add more twists and turns. So far I've come up with:

Werebats

Lizzie's long-lost father turning up and being a werewolf

Vaughn dying

Cannibals

Necrophilia

A freakshow of some sort featuring werecreatures (actually that might be book three...)

I'm not sure how well any of these things will fit in at the moment... I might hold off until Ricia's finished.