Lena Corazon

Flights of Fancy

Author: Lena Corazon (page 13 of 24)

Monday Inspirations: “Some Days”

December 12, 2011 / / 18 Comments

Today’s Monday Inspirations post is a wonderful example of the gems that can be found while aimlessly surfing YouTube — Broadway star Audra McDonald performing the song, “Some Days.”

Audra McDonald is one of my personal heroes. She studied classical voice the Julliard School and has gone on to have an incredibly full career. She’s won four Tony awards for her work on Broadway, making her one of three actresses to do so. She’s also performed countless concerts across the country and appeared on television, most recently as Naomi Bennett on ABC’s Private Practice.

What makes this song special is that the lyrics are taken from a poem by James Baldwin, the African-American poet, novelist, and social critic who is remembered for his frank discussions of race, class, sexuality, and oppression during a period when such topics were considered taboo. The poem is incredibly moving, and made all the more beautiful by Audra McDonald’s magnificent voice.

1.

Some days worry
some days glad
some days
more than make you
mad.
Some days,
some days, more than
shine:
when you see what’s coming
on down the line!

2.

Some days you say,
oh, not me never ⎯ !
Some days you say
bless God forever.
Some days, you say,
curse God, and die
and the day comes when you wrestle
with that lie.
Some days tussle
then some days groan
and some days
don’t even leave a bone.
Some days you hassle
all alone.

3.

I don’t know, sister,
what I’m saying,
nor do no man,
if he don’t be praying.
I know that love is the only answer
and the tight-rope lover
the only dancer.
When the lover come off the rope
today,
the net which holds him
is how we pray,
and not to God’s unknown,
but to each other ⎯ :
the falling mortal is our brother!

4.

Some days leave
some days grieve
some days you almost don’t believe.
Some days believe you
and you won’t.
Some days worry
some days mad
some days more than make you glad.
Some days, some days,
more than shine,
witnesses,
coming on down the line!

ROW80: ROW-ing Through the Snow

December 11, 2011 / / 9 Comments

ROW-oh-ing, ROW-oh-ing through the snow, writing bells are ringing…

Happy Sunday, friends and ROWers! Yes, that is my one-line attempt at a ROW-flavored holiday song. For fun, here’s Nat King Cole singing the original:

I’ve been back in San Francisco since Thursday, and right now, life is good. Here’s my mini-list of exciting accomplishments:

  • Work: I’m half-way through grading final papers, and for the most part, the students have done a wonderful job. I’ve been reminded of my favorite part of TA’ing ethnographic methods classes: I get to supervise students’ research and watch their projects (and their skills) develop over the quarter. Many of them have come a long way since the first few weeks of the course, and have written up excellent accounts of their research projects. Even better, some of them actually read the feedback I provided on past assignments (you’d be surprised how rare this is), and incorporated my suggestions and edits in their papers.
  • School: I had a great, albeit somewhat impromptu, meeting with my advisor before I left. She’s asked me to help her with a research project that she and I have been discussing for the past couple of years, and I’m really excited — it involves archival research about religious communities (i.e. Catholic nuns) in the United States. The project is in its preliminary phases, but if she can get funding I can come aboard as a paid research assistant. We also started discussing plans for the dissertation fellowships I’m going to apply for next year, which is really exciting.
  • Writing: Now that NaNo’s finished, I’m back to rotating between my multiple unfinished projects. After some not-so-gentle nudging from the characters of my steampunk tale, I’m working on a plan for edits and rewrites. Apparently I’m also writing a short story or two of prequel-esque backstory, because Tempest Dumont has demanded it, and she’s the sort of gal that one can’t refuse. I pantsed the first draft of TELL ME NO LIES, and now I’m struggling to impose some structure on my sprawling mass of scenes. It’s too short — only 51K, with about 35 scenes, so now I have to figure out where to fill in the blanks, and what to add. I won’t lie, the whole thing is incredibly daunting. Sometimes I think I’d be better off sticking with short stories or novellas…. but we’ll see how things go.

Now that we’re firmly in the midst of December, how is everyone else holding up?

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Fiction Fridays: The Music of Tell Me No Lies

December 9, 2011 / / 16 Comments

Today’s Fiction Friday post is brought to you by the voices in my head. Yes, my characters not only try to dictate my storylines and plots, but now they are conspiring to stage a coup and take over my blog posts as well. 🙂 Because Tempest Dumont, the main character of my steampunk WIP, TELL ME NO LIES, has demanded it, I’m going to talk about the music behind the story.

For anyone who’s unaware, TELL ME NO LIES is my crazy steampunk romantic thriller, set in 1890s San Francisco (the Barbary Coast, to be specific). Tempest is a popular saloon singer who finds herself targeted by a mysterious serial killer who is bent on murdering those scandalous “ladies of the stage,” Jack-the-Ripper-style. The police refuse to believe that the murders are connected, and so she sets off on a one-woman crusade to find the killer and bring him to justice. Along the way, she receives the help of Adam Davenport, the one detective who believes her claims and wants to see justice served. The two of them are like oil and water, and they struggle to set aside their differences (and ignore the growing of attraction between them) to solve the murders.

Tempest is one of those characters who just won’t shut up. She’s incredibly different from my other MCs — loud, brassy, and cynical. She had a rough upbringing, ran away from home when she was 15, and ended up falling in love with a ne’er-do-well airship pirate who eventually broke her heart and tried to frame her for one of his crimes. Now she thinks that she’s heartless and incapable of love… but she just might be wrong.

The playlist has a distinct folk/country feel to it. Even though the tale takes place at the end of the 19th century when San Francisco has become refined and urban, there’s this residual “wild west” vibe that I can’t quite shake.

The first song that I’ll share with you is “Tennessee” by Gillian Welch (Lyrics). In so many ways, this is the definitive Tempest song, just from the first verse alone:

I kissed you ‘cause I’ve never been an angel
I learned to say hosannas on my knees
But they threw me out of Sunday school when I was 9
And the sisters said I did just as I pleased
Even so, I tried to be a good girl
It’s only what I want that makes me weak
I had no desire to be a child of sin
Then you went and pressed your whiskers to my cheek.

That scandalous, whiskered man? Gillian Welch is of course referring to Jack Davenport, the rakish airship pirate who broke Tempest’s heart and double-crossed her. In all seriousness, however, I love Gillian’s voice, and I am sorta convinced that this song was written for Tempest. It’s the perfect theme.

The second song is “Barton Hollow” by The Civil Wars (Lyrics).

Tempest is the sort of gal who doesn’t really believe in redemption, and who carries around a lot of baggage when it comes to dealing with her past. The chorus resonates with all those themes:

Ain’t going back to Barton Hollow
Devil’s gonna follow me ‘ever I go
Won’t do me no good, washing in the river
Can’t no preacherman save my soul

The final song isn’t folk or country, but pop — Pink’s “Glitter in the Air” (Lyrics).The entire album, Funhouse, is on the playlist, but this song is my favorite. Incidentally, I’m convinced that this may be the best awards show performance I’ve ever seen. Pink kills it here:

I love this song to the marrow of my bones. It is achingly beautiful, and the last lines of the song move me to tears sometimes:

Have you ever wished for an endless night?
Lassoed the moon and the stars and hold that rope tight
Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself
Will it ever get better than tonight?

This the song that plays in my head whenever I think of Tempest and Adam’s romance. They’re two souls who have been scarred, who are a bit bruised and broken, yet somehow fight their fears and allow themselves to be vulnerable to one another.

So there you have it, the music of TELL ME NO LIES. It’s not a definitive list by any means (the “official” playlist is over 60 songs long), but I think these three songs capture the overall vibe of the novel. Just listening to them makes me want to drop everything and start working on it again — or maybe that’s just Tempest talking. 😉

ROW80: The End-of-the-Quarter Vortex

December 6, 2011 / / 38 Comments

I should be writing a 1-2 page self-evaluation for my feminist studies course, but the thought of trying to expand the single sentence that I’ve managed to write into at least 1 page makes me feel pretty “meh” at the moment. Seriously, how else can I say “Give me an A because I came to class and did the work and participated in discussion”? Talk about the worst assignment ever. :/ So here I am, writing a very rare Wednesday ROW80 check-in!

I haven’t touched anything blog or social media-related in quite a few days, and wow, I’m going through withdrawals. But I thought I would try to be a responsible sort of student and close Tweetdeck and Google Reader so I could focus on all the work that I have to do — painful, but necessary.

Classes ended last Thursday, and after that I fell into the spiraling madness of thesis-editing and final paper-writing. It is a strange vortex, rather like an alternate universe, where I forget the days of the week and maintain really odd sleeping hours, punctuated by brief sprints of writing and odd breaks filled with television and/or video games, and longer periods staring into space and avoiding work altogether.

This weekend, the television show in question is the original UK version of Being Human, which is so bloody awesome I cannot contain my glee. It is about a ghost, a werewolf, and a vampire who share a house and grapple with their attempts to fit in with humans without revealing their supernatural status — a genius premise, if you ask me. It is dark and somewhat creepy and funny and touching, all at once (for the record, I cried twice during the first 3 episodes, which I was not expecting at all). I’m almost through with Season 2, and I highly recommend it.

On the writing/work front, things are coming along. I finished writing a 14 page final paper for my feminist studies class today, which actually turned into a paper that I am proud of. Better yet, it opens up some interesting ideas that I can potentially explore for my dissertation.

The thesis-editing is finally happening. My methods section is totally finished and I’ve tackled rewrites and line-edits for half of the findings section. Now all I need to do is finish the second half of the findings section, tack on a few transition statements here and there, brush up the introduction, and write a conclusion. Cross your fingers that I can get the whole thing fixed and shiny by mid-month, so I can send it off to my advisor and be done with the whole business (at least until I get her edits back in January, that is).

Things are lightening up, but I’m not out of the woods just yet. My students submit their final papers tomorrow afternoon, so grading is my weekend priority. And I take off on Thursday morning for my parents’ house, where I’ll be for the next month (so exciting!). As result, blogging will continue be a little sparse through next week, but I will hopefully be back in full force once I vanquish all my school stuff. I have countless ideas for blog posts floating around in my head; the challenge is finding time to sit down and write everything out!

Finally, on a fun note, I did get a chance to get out over the weekend and pop into my favorite store that sells sparkly jewelry things. I found these amazing peacock earrings and had to buy them, since I am building an accessory wardrobe of feathered headbands, hairclips, earrings, and necklaces.

The longest, most epic earrings ever.

I’m excited to get back to my Google Reader and check out all of the posts that I’ve missed from y’all. Can’t wait to get back to blog-hopping!

Monday Inspirations: Don’t Steal Corn From a Porcupine

November 28, 2011 / / 36 Comments

Today’s Monday Inspirations is more on the unrepentantly silly side. It’s my first day back to school after the holiday weekend, I’m still a little drowsy from all the tryptophan and my ridiculously long drive yesterday. I needed a little laugh out loud funny to start my morning off right, and oh boy, I found it over on Jezebel.

Folks, porcupines make ridiculously adorable Disney creature noises. And they eat corn. And woe betide the person who tries to steal their corn, because they will grab at it with their tiny little fingers, and emit high-pitched noises of fury and protest.

I am sure they will also attack with prickly quills, but I don’t care. I now need one in my life, and I will endure the threat of prickles with absolute delight.

So let the cutesy woodland creature inspire your day as you struggle through the post-turkey-and-football coma! I am, er, off to find a porcupine to steal borrow befriend.

ROW80: 50k, is that you?

November 26, 2011 / / 53 Comments

Well, I did it. I’m not quite sure how I did it, but the seemingly impossible has occurred: I’ve written over 50k for PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE, validated the novel, and gotten many shiny things and goodies for winning NaNoWriMo.

Yes, that’s right. It bears saying once more: I somehow won NaNoWriMo. And I totes have proof:

WINNING.

I suppose I shouldn’t be completely shocked; after all, I won CampNaNo in August. But I wasn’t working or going to school in August, and the experience was completely different. I ran out of story half-way through the month, lost a few days obsessing over exactly what I was doing, and basically made up a ton of stuff in order to squeak my way past the finish line.

PPT is far from finished. It’s pretty much unreadable at the moment, filled with tons of holes and missing words and placeholders and characters with horrible names. There is no discernable system of magic (and, er, this is supposed to be a fantasy novel), a romance subplot that currently hasn’t taken off, and all sorts of twists and turns that I haven’t figured out. How does my MC manage to save the world and avert certain danger? I have no friggin’ clue… but for once I have the confidence that I’ll figure it out.

In the meantime, I am going to keep working on this novel, though I have others that have decided to surface in the last few days. TELL ME NO LIES, my steampunk murder mystery, beckons. I’ve managed to evade it over the last few weeks, but I had a moment yesterday. I spent the afternoon in San Francisco, and saw a protestor in Union Square wearing a creepy sort of gas mask. He carried a protest sign with a George Carlin quote: “That’s why they call it the American Dream, because you have to be asleep to believe it.” The image struck me, and made me think about how my steampunk world, set in late 18th century San Francisco, might not be so different: there are the haves and the have nots, and a whole set of outspoken rabble protesting the existing social order. It’s just one of a whole host of things I want to add to the tale, and I’m itching to get started.

And let’s not talk about the idea I had for a semi-new story based on a short piece I wrote in high school about an all-women’s academy called “The Court of Enchanted Oaks.” The original story was a fantasy tale that was a combination of Harry Potter and my high school experiences (I went to an all-girls Catholic school on a campus nicknamed “The Oaks”). This new twist turns it into a steampunk world, where the students find themselves inadvertently in the forefront of an unexpected war. My muse tells me that this is a story about the clash between female lore/magic (the “old ways”) and the enlightenment science/engineering stuff that has replaced it (masculine rationality, etc.). It is a tantalizing idea to toy with, one that echoes the main theme that keeps cropping up in my work: challenging binaries and bridging social divides. The MC, at least as she exists at the moment, could unite both old ways and new, and somehow help to end the war.

Seriously, I don’t know where this stuff comes from. I just write it down.

Before I can really do much with my writing, however, I have decreed that the first half of December will be known as LeTheWriFort: Lena’s Thesis-Writing Fortnight (rolls right off the tongue, don’t it?). I have a thesis draft to finish, a final paper to write for my feminist studies seminar, and come December 9th, a stack of 30 final papers to grade from my students (although I will just note that this is nowhere near as much work as I usually have to grade at the end of the quarter).

Anyway! This is a rambly sort of update, potentially due to the fact that I am exhausted and need to get some rest, as tomorrow morning I leave my parents’ and make the 5 hour trek back to school. I’m not terribly excited to go — this visit was far too short, and I’m not ready for it to end. However, I’ll be back by mid-December. Better yet, I’ll have an entire month to do nothing but read books, write fun stuff, and visit my friends — pure bliss.

I hope those of you who celebrate Thanksgiving had a wonderful, restful holiday. For my fellow WriMos, I wish you luck with completing your writing goals, whether or not that involves the 50k finish line or another of your own choosing. As always, be sure to swing by and visit the other ROW80 participants, and cheer them on as they tackle their goals. 😀

Fiction Fridays: Imagining Path to the Peacock Throne

November 25, 2011 / / 14 Comments

For this week’s Friday Inspirations, I’m reposting a piece from July 2011, where I first introduced some of the ideas and images that serve as inspiration for my NaNoWriMo novel, PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE. Enjoy!

***

Art by Susan Seddon Boulet

I’ve been nursing the idea about country founded and governed by women for some time now, and it was in April that I started to build the basic structure of the land I have since named “Vao Artan.”  The central organizing myth is that the realm was settled by seven sisters, siblings who were in the goddess’s favor and blessed with dominion over the land.  Each sister had a specific talent — the cultivation of land and livestock; hunting and martial prowess; music, painting, and the arts; scholarly research; mathematics and science; magic; and diplomacy and rule.  The descendants of each sister correspond to a specific strata or occupation within the society.

This is where things get interesting.  Each of the seven sisters is associated with a type of bird — swans and magic, owls and scholarly research, nightingales and the arts, etc.  The bird imagery continues throughout the duration of the society, to the point where the military’s headquarters is known as “The Falconry,” and the royal mage is known as “The Cygne” (cygne being French for “swan”).  Each queen takes the name of a bird to represent her personality/rule.  The current queen, Vaedyn, is known as the “Eagle’s Claw,” which symbolizes her status as a warrior.  My main character, Liandre, will take the peacock for her standard.

So with that in mind, I’ve been collecting all sorts of bird-related things to help me out with world-building.  I’ve been thinking about fashion, architecture, and decor, among other odds and ends. Today, though, I’m going to look at fashion. Luckily, the fashion world has been drawing on avian inspirations for ages now, so there’s a wide range of ideas from which I can draw.

Feathers will be integrated into this tale, from the crests that adorn the helmets of the nation’s soldiers and warriors and other accessories, like jewelry and belts, to elaborate gowns, cloaks, and other items of clothing.

Take, for example, this headpiece by Arturo Rios, which is elegant and dramatic, as well as a bit gothic.  It’s just the sort of thing the aristocrats of Vao Artan might wear.

Makeup by Mark Lim

I also love the idea of drawing inspiration for makeup and cosmetics from birds, like makeup artist Mark Lim did here, using this absolutely gorgeous peacock headpiece and choker.  (This is actually a look I’ve attempted with the bright blue and green eyeshadow, but I’m not nearly this talented!)

Necklace by Lucy Hutchings

 

Other pretties include these phenomenal necklaces designed by Lucy Hutchings.  They are apparently inspired by the Bowerbird, “who loves to feather his nest with lots of blue to attract an egglayer,” according to Trendhunter.  I’ve introduced a similar sort of necklace into the third chapter of PPT, which is worn by the witch (or “Mother Cygne”) Simone.  Instead of being made from stones of blue-green, it is a rope of egg-sized, rough-hewn amethysts.

The women of Vao Artan, I think, like their jewelry big and bold, their clothing bright and colorful, and their accessories noticeable.  They are women after my own heart. 😉

Finally, here’s one last gown, created by Indonesian designer Anne Avantie.  It doesn’t have any explicitly avian details, but the color scheme is absolutely perfect for a young woman about to assume the “peacock throne.”  The model also reminds me of the way that Liandre appears in my mind, which is an extra bonus:

Kebaya by Anne Avantie

And there we have it!  A wee peek into the world that I am attempting to craft for PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE.  For more pictures and ideas, you can visit my tumblr, where I organize my world-building ideas.

Where do you turn for inspiration when you’re crafting a new tale?  How do you organize your ideas — scrapbooking, collages, digital photo galleries?

ROW80: Writing Like a Fiend

November 19, 2011 / / 41 Comments

Before I get to my update, I want to thank everyone who commented on Wednesday’s post. I didn’t quite realize how my story of finding community among this wonderful group of writers would resonate with so many people. Thank you for sharing your stories!

On the housekeeping front, wordpress.org users have finally been upgraded to the snazzy wordpress-run subscription widget. Since Feedburner’s been acting wonky, I’ve disabled it in favor of the WP one. You’ll see it on the right sidebar on the home page, and on the footer of each page. If email subscription is your thing, feel free to sign up. 🙂

Writing: This week has been a lot better than last week. I’m actively editing my thesis, so progress is being made on that end. Even better, I’ve broken out of my NaNo slump; at the time of writing this post, I’ve reached 33,687 words, which places me slightly ahead. I am writing, as my title suggests, like a fiend, embracing imperfection as fully as I can. By the end of the month, I’ll have the first layer of a novel that will need lots of TLC, and quite a bit of work, especially where world-building is concerned, but something is better than nothing!

I’d like to write another 1400 words or so before bed tonight, because I doubt that I’ll be able to write at all Monday or Tuesday. I’m on campus from 9 till 6 on Monday, and Tuesday I’m driving to San Francisco so I can spend Thanksgiving with my family. I am so unbelievably excited; all I want to do is load up my truck, hit the highway, and head north. No stopping, no looking back, no collecting $200 till I make it back to the Bay. 🙂

Exercise: This, friends, is where I have failed. I worked out 5 days this week, but I’m trying to undo some bad behavior from a couple weeks ago, when I was sick. During that time, I didn’t exercise because I was worried about my asthma flaring further. That would have been okay… if I hadn’t decided to buy a bag of ginger cookies from the store and devour them in a single weekend.

"No Cookies," by Mike R. Baker

Yeah, that’s me, face stuffed full of cookies. Needless to say, my pants are definitely tighter than they should be, and it’s sort of discouraging, because those same pants were starting to get loose just a few weeks ago.

I’ve had to make some difficult decisions regarding health and nutrition. I’ve been buying at least one bag of cookies, and/or bar of dark chocolate, and/or pint of ice cream each week since October, all with the promise that I would only eat a little bit at a time. Clearly, my self-control is non-existent. Until I can get to the point where having 1 cookie doesn’t turn into the entire damn bag, I’m banning myself from sugary things.

I keep trying to remember that I have succeeded at breaking these bad habits for longer than a week. It’s a hard transition, replacing candy with fruit, cookies with veggies, empty foods with healthy, filling ones. If anyone has any good suggestions for healthy snacks (I’ve got the 3 main meals covered, but snacks are my downfall), I would love to hear them.

Anyway, that’s it for me today! Be sure to swing by and check out how everyone else is doing this week. Also, stop by the Fun Not Fear! blog, where Em and I are hosting the weekly check-in thread. And, hey, while we’re at it, have a wee snippet from my NaNo tale, PATH TO THE PEACOCK THRONE.

Image: Photography by BJWOK / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I hate writing synopses, but here’s the basic gist: Liandre, the main character, was stolen from her birthplace 20 years before. Raised as the daughter of a king in a distant land, she learns of her true identity at the start of the novel. Her homecoming has been less than auspicious: her claim to the throne is challenged by one of the major political factions, isolationists who don’t take kindly to a “foreign” woman becoming queen. This scene is a snippet of Liandre’s first meeting with her mother since she was taken.

-oOo-

Simone slipped out of the room on silent feet, and shut the door behind her just as quietly. I was alone with my mother at last.

Mother. The word was foreign on my tongue. Once, when I was a little girl, I had tried to imagine what it would have been like to have a mother in addition to my beloved father. I dreamed of how she would love me and cosset me, tuck me in at bedtime, sing me precious lullabies. I had eventually grown out of those fantasies; what else could I do, believing my mother to be dead? But now here I was, sitting before her, and I had no idea where to start.

Here in the privacy of her chamber, there was little trace of her famed ferocity. She looked tired and gaunt, her shoulders hunched, face turned from mine. I could only imagine what she had endured during my absence, a queen beset by invaders and internal conflict, heartbroken over the abduction of her only child and heir.

Moved by a sudden surge of emotion, I reached out for her hand. An unexpected jolt went through me as our fingers brushed, and I swallowed back a sob. She must have felt it as well, for she started in surprise. We sat in silence for a long moment, hands linked, heads bowed.

When she spoke, her words were halting, abrupt. “Your journey. Was it agreeable?”

“It was… an adventure, to say the least.”

“Good.” There was another awkward pause as she pulled her hand from mine and turned away. “I knew you for my own the moment I saw you.” Her voice was harsh, fierce with barely-suppressed emotion. “How any could challenge your claim is beyond my ken.”

I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. It had been my deepest fear that she would reject me, the same way the hecklers had challenged my identity during my formal reception, but she knew me. She was willing to claim me as her own, to love me, and in that moment it didn’t matter that the rest of the country seemed resolved to hate me. So long as I had her love, I could endure any challenge that came my way.

She brushed the tears from my cheek with gentle fingers. “The mark of our line is stamped upon your face, in the arch of your brow, the curve of cheek, the point of your chin. All will acknowledge it before long, I promise you.”

“Mother?” There, I had said it, and the warmth of her smile soothed the anxiety that thrummed through me.

“Aya, you once called me.  It is a name that only children use, but…” Her hand trembled in mine. “Would you humor me, gosling?  When you come of age, I promise I will treat you like the woman you are.”

I tried the word once, twice, and then nodded, for this word fit better than any other. “Very well, Aya. I would be honored.”

Fiction Fridays: Tapping Into Writerly Extrasensory Perception

November 18, 2011 / / 15 Comments

Today marks the final day of the Warm Fuzzies blogfest. I’m not quite sure where the last four weeks went, but here we are, over halfway through with November, hurtling our way to the winter holidays.

Our prompt for the week is a bit of a timely one, given that I am easing my way out of a rough writing patch and trying to regain momentum with NaNoWriMo:

This week, post what makes writing worth it for you and most importantly, post one of your Warm Fuzzy moments. It can be a scene from a WIP, short story, poem, anything that strikes your fancy. Visit one another’s posts and enjoy the writing you find there.

Writing involves blood and sweat and tears (the blood is hopefully metaphorical, unless we are discussing paper cuts). It can be stressful, frightening, disheartening. Sometimes I can end my writing time feeling down-in-the-dumps pathetic, like I’m the worst writer to walk the face of the planet, and how in the world am I ever going to turn this piece of tripe into something that people want to read, let alone pay for?

Sometimes, it helps for me to think of writing as a sort of treasure hunt, or some vast archaeological dig. I like to imagine myself the intrepid adventurer on a quest, armed with a map and some tools, along with a folder holding the bits of research and scraps of paper and a clue or two.

Image: taoty / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

No matter how detailed my preparation for the excursion, however, I never fail to wander into unmarked territory. It’s in those unmarked spaces that I find the most unexpected gems, the most valuable pieces of treasure. It’s in those off-the-beaten-path spots where I suddenly find the capacity to listen.

Sometimes the things I hear resonate with the guideposts on my map; sometimes they take me into brand new territory. No matter what, this is where the magic happens.  Characters suddenly reveal a handful of new secrets. Mundane settings become more vibrant. Flat, uninteresting plots gain complexity, along with a few twists and turns. Ideas are infused with life, with passion and vibrancy and wants and needs,

This is why I write, aside from the fact that there are characters chirping in my ear, demanding that their stories be told. I write because I can’t get enough of this strange extrasensory perception, this third eye that allows me to see and to hear things that don’t exist. I write because I have the faith that my hard work will be rewarded with those wonderful, incandescent moments of joy, when a scene that’s been hazy and vague suddenly crystallizes in my mind.

Given the furious pace of NaNoWriMo, it’s been difficult to tap into my writerly ESP, to take the time to sit down and just listen to what my characters want and need. It’s one of the things that I’m hoping to do this weekend, because I know the story needs an injection of vitality, a little (or maybe a lot) extra oomph.

All of this is a roundabout way to preface my excerpt, which is not taken from my NaNo novel (sorry, guys, it just doesn’t have that “zing” right now). Instead, I’m posting a flash fiction piece that I wrote for a Halloween-themed challenge last month. You can find the original post here. I love this piece because it’s a little creepy, moody, and dark, which is out-of-the-ordinary for me.

Enjoy, and be sure to swing by and visit the other bloggers taking part in the Warm Fuzzies blogfest!

-oOo-

“Midnight Walker”

It was a small thing, really: a single globule of blood, no larger than a dewdrop and just as delicate.  If Alaric hadn’t been starving, his veins parched and dry, it would’ve been easy enough to ignore.  Restraint and willpower had always been his strengths, even before he was reborn.  But then again, he had never been deprived of sustenance for so long. There was no way he could withstand such temptation.

That drop of blood was a siren’s song of lust and desire, flooding his mouth with saliva, sharpening his gleaming fangs.  It gleamed in the flickering glow of the streetlamp, adorning the whore’s neck like the most precious ruby.

She’d been bitten already — a sloppy kiss from a drunkard, for her intoxicating bouquet was tainted by the acrid, burnt smell of whiskey. With his preternatural senses, he could hear the beating of her heart, the borborygmic trembling of her stomach; she was hungry as well, her face pinched and pale beneath a heavy coating of rouge.  It mattered little. By the time Alaric was through, food — or lack thereof — would be the least of her worries.

The whore turned limpid eyes upon him, lips parted in a drawl of invitation, and Alaric’s hands shook as his slid the coin into her hand.  A thrill of delight coursed down his spine as he followed her into the dank alley nearby, even as his conscience uttered one final whimper of protest.

He would hate himself come morning, when the alleys would be strewn with evidence of his excesses, but the salt-sweet elixir on his tongue drove away all regret.

 

Wicked Wednesdays: The Importance of Community, And Blog Awards

November 16, 2011 / / 54 Comments

Today’s Wicked Wednesday post is a little late, but it was one of those days where everything else seemed to take precedence to blogging. But according to my clock, it is still Wednesday, so here we are. Today, I’m thinking about the magical, wonderful online community of writers, and passing out shiny new blog awards!

Finding my way to the online writing community is probably one of the best things to happen to me. Not better than, say, finishing college or getting into graduate school, but pretty darn close.

See, I’ve always been something of a loner. It wasn’t necessarily by choice; I was labeled the Smart Kid in elementary school, and never really grew out of it. As many of you might know, becoming the Smart Kid is akin to social suicide: the cool kids think you’re lame, no one wants to hang out with you, and everyone assumes that you’re nothing more than, y’know, a pulsating brain in a chair — no personality, no wants or needs, just a vat of intelligence that’s there to dispense information.

“Lena, what’s the answer to number 3? Lena, will you do my homework for me? No? But you understand this book so much better than I do, and…”

No, I’m not bitter. Seriously, guys, I swear.

Anyway, as a result, I didn’t get much more social than hanging out with my tiny cadre of fellow outcasts during lunch breaks. I spent most of my time alone, immersing myself in make-believe worlds of books, poetry, and creative writing. That solitude became my refuge, and after a few brushes with clingy, toxic friendships in high school and college, being alone seemed far preferable than anything else.

But humans are social creatures, and we crave connection and intimacy with others. I tried to go it alone after my writing partner and I “broke up” after 5 years of working together (the relationship rather imploded in the messiest and most painful of ways). After close to to years of writer’s block, though, it became really clear to me that the Silent-Loner-Writer thing just wasn’t going to work. I didn’t want to collaborate again, but I needed people. I needed feedback. Better yet, I needed non-grad students who I could talk to about writing and books, about things that weren’t anchored in the dysfunctional dynamics of academia, or my thesis topic, or the other old conversations that make grad student gatherings feel so suffocating.

I started this quest for community just over 1 year ago, when I signed up for a Livejournal account and started poking at the world of fan fiction again. A month or so later, I broke up with my boyfriend of almost 2 years, and the imperative to write and connect became even stronger. I latched onto writing communities on LJ, and while that helped a bit, there were only a handful of people who were involved and committed.

Fast-forward a bit, to May 2011, when I accidentally stumbled upon A Round of Words in 80 Days. When I say “stumbled,” I do mean it. One of my LJ friends linked to the Plot Whisperer, and I went peeking at her site. I started poking at her blogroll, and eventually I found one that was talking about some ‘ROW80 check-in.’ I followed that link, and lo! History was made.

ROW80 led me to an amazing network of supportive, engaging, creative, and wonderful people. It also pushed me to dust off my long-defunct Twitter account so I could hang out over at the #ROW80 hashtag. In turn, Twitter opened the doors to the #myWANA crowd, and to an unbelievable treasure trove of blogfests, writing challenges, writing blogs, fun communities… Really, I could go on and on.

If someone had told me last November that, in a year, I’d be furiously writing my way towards winning NaNoWriMo, I would have laughed in their faces. If that same person had added that I’d have over a dozen flash fiction pieces and three novels in-progress to my credit, I would have laughed even harder. And if that strange, bizarre, crazy person also said that I’d have over 600 followers on Twitter and a Google Reader bursting at the seams with amazing blogs written by people I would call friends, I would’ve checked them for mental problems.

But it happened, improbably enough, and as we speed ever closer to Thanksgiving, I find myself more grateful for this community than ever. My mother, who knows me better than anyone, told me recently that this is the happiest I’ve been in ages. I know it’s due in large part to the enthusiasm, support, and genuine caring that I’ve found from all of you. So consider this blog post a sort of love letter to all of you, dear friends and readers.

As part of this mutual lovefest, I am passing out blog awards! It seems as though I’ve been accumulating them over the past few weeks, hoarding them up because I haven’t had the chance to pass them along, but I am sending them along at last. 🙂

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