Natalie Whipple on Beating Revision Fatigue

I just found an awesome post on how one author staves off exhaustion and creates at the same time. Check it out. I put the link in the title and I’ve added her to my blog roll, too. And SQUEE! She’s got a book that sounds like it’s set in Japan. 🙂

The Proper Use of a Thesaurus

This is hysterical. A friend sent it to me (Thanks, Mary!) and I had to share.

I have a very enthusiastic Thesaurus user in my 10 yo dd! I don’t wantto discourage her from using new words, but sometimes the usage is questionable. Here is an example from the first lesson of All Things Fun and Fascinating:Effelgent, Brobdingnagian Monoliths Rocks levitate in the solar system. Actually, some get hauled to the earth. Tumbling through space, they look like smoldering stars while hurdling through the air! On Earth, they look like descending stars. Although most of them are bantamer than a grain of sand, few voluminousones hit earth. One bopped a sustenance brute. It pummeled a dog in Egypt, in 1911. We should be frantically rapturous, that our firmament fortifies us.

Goal Setting Time!

Oooh, this could hurt.

It’s time to set goals for the next book. I’m so obsessed with the current novel, I haven’t worked as hard as I need to on my take of Wang Mang’s life. Still, I’m pretty sure I know where I’m focussing, so here go the goals:

1. I will know who my main characters are. (Minor characters can pop up as needed.)
2. I will know my basic plot. (Twists and complications can occur as needed.)
3. I will be ready to write by the end of October.

Right now, I’ve got one of the main characters and the events of his life are the driving force of the novel. But I need two other characters as love interest and antagonist. I know who they’ll be in his life (or I think I do), but I don’t have enough information on them yet. More research is required.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Chinese history, Wang Mang is vilified by some as regicide and murderer of children, to some he’s a self-sacrificing would-be empire salvationist. To me, he’s a fascinating personality. He lived about 180 years before my current story arc happened.

And Now For Something Frivolous

I was just reminded of a Getting-to-Know-You game I’ve played and I thought it would be fun to do it here.

If you were a car, what would you be? Not what car would you buy. What kind of car are you?

For instance, I am a rusting 1970 Ford Truck. I’m not pretty, I don’t go in for a wax job or reupholstering – ever. I don’t take crap, but I’ll do my best to perform my job. Give me an oil change now and then and put gas in the tank and I’m good to go. And go.

And go.

What car are you?

Backspace Competition

I’ve got my entry for the Backspace Competition ready to go. I’m a day ahead of myself, but if I don’t get it mailed tonight, it won’t get out at all.

I wonder how many competitors I’m up against? Probably the known writing world, considering how many times the competition arrived in my inbox.

Well, just in case you’re interested, I think I’ll post my first and second pages. I won’t bore you with the majority of the query letter, although I think it’s damn good. Here’s the gist of the story:

When Liu Jie vows to serve his Emperor, the Son of Heaven, he embarks on an epic journey where ghosts are guides and heroes are traitors. Jie endures the brutality and anguish of war before facing his greatest fear: Must he sacrifice his family to save his empire?

And here are the first two pages. Feel free to make suggestions. 🙂

MOURN THEIR COURAGE
By Victoria Dixon

Chapter One

In the Ron Empire, wars did not erupt over cups of rice wine, which was why Liu Jie and his family stopped at the Peach Orchard Inn. It was a meager tamped-earth structure, but he did not care. Traveling was too stressful in these times. They wanted rest.
Despite his guard’s protest, Jie dismounted and opened the inn’s courtyard gate himself. The cold, flaky metal felt good and solid after hours of nothing but leather and horsehair under his fingers. His wife and son’s litter passed inside and Jie helped Mei and Shan out of the stuffy sedan chair. A breeze blew the smell of earth and peaches through the courtyard and all three of them breathed deep. Together, they entered the inn.
To his right, several men gathered around something mounted on the wall. It was an unrolled silk scroll and it caught and held his attention. The weave of the ivory fabric was intricate, and the Imperial Chop blazed like a crimson brand in a corner. He read it in a glance.
The Son of Heaven requires the aid of all men, as sons might come to their father. Rebels assault the people and threaten the capital. All districts report.
Jie took a step toward the scroll and stopped, hands clenched.
Beside him, his wife read it and blanched. “No,” she whispered.
“We knew it would come to this, Mei,” Jie said.
“I’d hoped-“
Jie nodded and took her hand in his for a quiet moment. When servants brought in the family’s luggage, Mei followed them past garish red pillars and up the stairs. He knew she wanted to avoid the noise of the tearoom and the implications of the notice.
Their son, Shan ran outside to play in the last rays of sunlight. Jie bought a cup of rice wine and sat at an empty table. He contemplated how to respond to the summons. Servants lit paper lanterns and the tearoom filled with more men who crowded the notice.
A group of boisterous young men sat at a nearby table and a game of sixes commenced with a clatter of dice.
The voices and noise blended into a monotonous drone. When the innkeeper brought him a plate of dumplings and a set of chopsticks, he barely tasted the food. Instead, he used the chopsticks and wrote plan after plan in the congealing sauce. He abandoned every scheme as impractical.
He did not have enough money to fund a campaign against the rebels. I may have no choice –
The inn door slammed open and Shan rushed inside.
Bemused, Jie smiled as his son looked around the room as if all the demons of hell chased him. After all, he is eight.
Then Shan’s wide-eyed expression found him, and Jie knew something was wrong.
“Papa, come outside, quick!”
“It’s dark outside, Shan. There’s nothing to see.”
“There’s a body!” Shan said. “A dead boy is in the garden.”