I've been writing my YA Paranormal, A TOUCH IN THE DARK. So, my Jersey shore peeps have taken a back seat. I haven't given up on them, I just needed to write something new. So, go check out what I've been up to here. Let me know your thoughts!
Sometimes traffic is stressful, but not all the time. When you have to be somewhere, let's face it, it sucks. But, when you're just chillin' and some way-back-when tune bounces out from the airwaves, you can't help but smile, bop your head, and pucker your lips.
iPods and such will never have that ability. A DJ does. To this day, I LOVE listening to the radio. Hearing some Rob Base this morning made me smile, bop, pucker, and think of those days at the skaing rink in my spandex pants and Bon Jovi hair. I can smell the aqua net now. "I'm not from the Old School or from the new..."
Some of you may have read here about how a family tragedy spawned this creator of tales and woe. Well, said tragedy has been on my mind quite a lot lately. Good for writing fuel but bad for my overall mental well being. And my usual mental well being is a bit off to begin with.
I am writing a YA Paranormal about a girl with a hideous scar on her face. Said scar being the result of downed power line snaking across her body. Not a scar from being struck by lightning. Why did I choose one over the other? I didn't want this book to hit too close to home. But this character has taken over. The more I think about it, lightning not having a role would be selling out on who I am and how I got to be here, typing in cyber space to a small audience. *Insert crickets*
So, I am changing things, tweaking things. Lightning will play a role. It scares the shit out of me to write about it. I researched scars early on. See, my character has a scar that wraps around her left eye like a vine. The scars I envisioned on her face resembled Lichtenberg scars. Scars from the result of being struck by lightning. But I insisted that they would be from a downed power line, not the thing that took my brother from me. Secretly, really deep inside, I think I knew lightning would become a part of this story. I just wasn't ready to face it until now.
The more I write about Rori I wonder if my brother had any of these vine-like scars? Do the survivors that were lucky enough to walk away have any? He was the only one to die that night. I toy with trying to contact them but I'm already pulling on the band-aid over my heart as it is.
I was told that the bolt that killed him hit him in the back of the head and exited his chest. At the funeral I saw no visible scars on his deathly still and beautiful face. The writer in me came from this morbid sense to create an alternate universe. One where he may be alive. Because, young men at the ripe age of twenty-one aren't struck by lightning and killed. Not when their whole life was ahead of them. College graduation, marriage, just being my big overbearing and protective brother. In my heart I couldn't believe such things happened. So, he must in a witness protection program. Kidnapped. Somewhere suffering from amnesia. Maybe he hated us and ran away to live another life. I made up anything so I didn't have to face the truth.
My brother was struck by lightning and died instantly. He left us with scars, some are still gaping wounds. The falling domino still chases me and I wonder if it will ever stop?
Now I create worlds were people survive the unthinkable. I am writing about a fifteen year old girl who survived being struck by lightning. (It's a YA paranormal, kind of scary, no way representing my real life). I'm not sharing that writer part of me yet. This site will remain a place for my Women's Fiction.
While I'm not writing any Women's Fiction at the moment, waiting to see how things pan out for MEET ME IN JERSEY, I am writing. Writing about scars both old and new, the slightly scabbed over and the ever oozing ones. Scars always have a way of ending up in the tales we weave. Finally, I'm able to put the most prolific scar I have into a story. Maybe then I can let it fully heal. Maybe.
So, I am in between writing novels right now. I need to take a break from my shore inspired Women's Fiction. To be quite honest, I'm working on a YA Paranormal. Scary! Fun! And very scaaarryyy! It's about a teenage girl whose dead mother is haunting her. No, real life is not inspiring me at all. No mother wants to torture their teenage daughter. Its all kisses, hugs, and rainbows. More on that another time.
I've had quite a few bites for MEET ME IN JERSEY with some editors and agents. It's a mixed bag of reviews. Most in conflict with one another. Kinds of makes me scratch my head, a lot, like I got cooties. It's put me in this in between place. In between having faith in my novel/ability to write and calling up my local community college for basket weaving classes.
One said the characters blurred together but the plot was great! Another said the characters were amazing but there are plot issues. There was an instance where they quoted some of my passages and felt I could've drawn out more emotion and the next day someone else said great emotion but the pacing is off. A few said great premise but in the end, not for me.
Sigh. Bottom line, there is probably some thing wrong with the novel but no one can put their finger on what exactly. Or are they just not the right agent for me? Again, this in between place.
However, I did have an agent call me! Yay! Not THE call but a call nonetheless. I'd queried her agency the day before and she wanted to read the full. My email bounced back so she decided to give me a ring. We chatted and she asked so many amazing questions about me, my writing, my other works in progress. There were a few coincidences about our lives that overlapped. *That happens to me a lot in real life.*
At the end of the conversation I felt that not only did someone get my characters, my story, and my writing, but they got me. This writer me few outside my writing circle would even understand. Humbling is putting it mildly. I teared up on a few occasions, especially when she asked whay inspires me to write. A heavy breath left me and I whispered, "My brother."
Agent Amazing said she'd seen my website and read about him. I got so choked up but carried on. She also looked at my other WIPs and inquired about them. It was all so surreal. I mean, we know as aspiring writers agents will probably peruse our websites but she really took the time to read about me, my work, and who I am.
Agent Amazing said she'd get back to me in a week or so and we'd chat again. Then she emailed me what a pleasure it was to talk to me. Wow. Simply just wow.
So, I rode cloud 9 all the way home. Chatted with my amazing writing partner AJ and gushed to the hubby.
Next day another rejection from a full came in with similar issues like above. Great, I thought. Cloud busted and back to reallity. In between again. In between feeling that Agent Amazing may be the one for me and thinking she'll find 99 problems with the novel. (The song 99 Problems is now in my head and probably yours, too. Sorry about that.)
Hopefully I will have something amazing to report next time. Hopefully. And there's nothing wrong with having a little reason to hope once again.
Dave Matthews Band, Crash Into Me
You've got your ball you've got your chain
tied to me tight tie me up again
who's got their claw in you my friend
Into your heart I'll beat again
Sweet like candy to my soul
Sweet you rock and sweet you roll
Lost for you I'm so lost for you
You come crash into me
And I come into you
I come into you
In a boys dream
In a boys dream
Touch your lips just so I know
In your eyes, love, it glows
so I'm bare boned and crazy for you
When you come crash into me,
And I come into you
In a boys dream
In a boys dream
If I've gone overboard
Then I'm begging you to forgive me in my haste
When I'm holding you so girl, close to me
Oh and you come crash into me,
And I come into you
Hike up your skirt a little mor and show the world to me
Hike up your skirt a little more and show your world to me
In a boys dream... In a boys dream
Oh I watch you there through the window and I stare
as you wear nothing but you wear it so well
tied up and twiste the way I'd like to be
For you, for me, come crash into me
I'm the king of the castle
your a dirty rascle, crash into me!
"Love is a temporary madness.
It erupts like volcanoes and then subsides.
And when it subsides you have to make a decision.
You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together
that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.
Because this is what love is.
Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement,
it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion.
That is just being 'in love' which any fool can do.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away,
and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.
Those that truly love have roots that grow toward each other underground,
and when all the pretty blossom have fallen from their branches,
they find that they are one tree and not two."
~ From Captain Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Bernieres