A Lot Can Happen in Five Years and 10 Pages

I can’t remember the last time I had such a hard time editing an intro. But oh my word, Designing America is killing me!

In a strictly intellectual/creative sense, of course. I don’t mean to follow up last Wednesday’s thankfulness post by complaining about how difficult my life is. Let’s face it: If the worst thing I have to deal with is a challenging piece of fiction, then I’m doing pretty darn good.

I fully acknowledge that. I also fully acknowledge that there’s no good way to transition from how peachy I have it back to complaining, so I’m not going to bother.

Let’s just acknowledge that I’m being a whiny baby and move on…

The reason behind why I’m struggling so much with prettying up Designing America? It’s those dratted historical details I care so much about. Apparently the feeling isn’t reciprocal, since they seem bound and determined to make my editorial life a living nightmare.

I’ve already cut out entire paragraphs in the first 10 pages, even about details I really, really like. Yet there’s still so much backstory that needs to be addressed in order to set up the current tale.

After all, Maiden America took place at the very end of 1776, whereas its sequel happens five years later during the summer of 1781. A lot can happen in a five-year span and a lot did, both for the non-fiction America and the fictional Abigail Carpenter.

It’s not like I need to breakdown every single battle between the combatants and every conversation made about them. Otherwise, that would be a textbook, not a novel. Obviously.

Nonetheless, 1781 was an eventful year with a whole string of crazy coincidences and strange happenings that factored into the successful campaign at Yorktown, Virginia. So much so that my multiple sources repeatedly mentioned “providence” being at work.

These weren’t religious resources either. They were the kind of academic accounts that graduate students might refer to while compiling their doctoral theses. Yet these professionals were downright amazed at how many completely unpredictable pieces came together in just the right way and at just the right time to set up a game-changing victory.

All of which seems well worth mentioning.

So how do I tell it in a non-boring manner? That’s the $500 question I’m struggling with.

I’m sure I’ll come up with an answer.

Eventually.

Maybe right after I get a better attitude.

What This #FirstWorldProblems Writer Is So Very Thankful For This Year

I was joking yesterday with my coworkers about #FirstWorldProblems, as I was going to have to complete today’s to-do list on a small screen at home instead of my large monitor at work.

I didn’t think much of it at the time. But lying in bed this morning, ignoring my alarm clock and thinking about Designing America, it hit me how significant my supposed silliness actually was.

You see, my next step since finishing my rough draft hasn’t been to edit. It’s been to go through my historical highlights and notes to make sure I’ve gotten key details and dates correct. And those highlights and notes, details and dates spell out a nearly overwhelming amount of pain.

The Revolutionary War was a miserable time period for those who had to live through it.

I mean absolutely horrific. The Brits were really quite rotten to the Americans.

That’s no offense to the British at large any more than it’s an approval of Americans at large. Any true student of history recognizes that there isn’t a perfect people out there. We’re all capable of committing atrocities, and we too often run with that potential.

Moreover, during the course of the Revolutionary War – as I flat-out state in Maiden America – the Americans behaved pretty darn badly a time or two as well.

Yet with that all said, in my very detailed research, I never once came across a story of American soldiers ripping open pregnant women, or crowding thousands of prisoners of war onto ships to let them rot away for weeks or months under the most inhumane conditions, knowing full well they’d die. (Many went insane first.) Those brutalities fall squarely on the British back then.

For kicks and giggles, I watched The Patriot on Sunday; which, yes, is filled with historical inaccuracies. Considering how that movie and Designing America share the same bad guy, I found myself shaking my head and rolling my eyes over and over again.

But that wasn’t what stood out most to me. What stood out most were the battle scenes, where men’s heads were blown off. Their legs shattered. Their stomachs skewered by bayonets.

Because all of that? That really happened.

Even when that wasn’t going on, those soldiers starved more often than not. They got little to no pay. And after the war, they barely got a thanks from a citizenry that was too often thrilled to celebrate victories but apathetic or downright hostile about providing anything else.

Black and white, free and slave, young and old, rich and poor male and female: Those “rebels” gave their time, their fortunes, their well-being, comfort and very lives…

The result is that I can laugh about #FirstWorldProblems.

For all of those sacrifices back then and my security today, I am truly grateful.

Designing America Is Done! Kinda… Sorta… Okay, Not Really.

I finished Designing America yesterday afternoon!

Admittedly, that makes it sound like a much bigger accomplishment than it actually is, so let me restate. I finished the first draft of Designing America. And I’m about 40,000 words short on my word count.

I was planning on writing a decent bit more before the “the end” part, but it just didn’t turn out that way. “The end” happened without asking for permission.

My stories are rude like that.

The thing is, normally they’re also a heck of a lot wordier. So I’m not quite sure what happened this time around.

One logical possibility is that I was focusing too much on the historical detail and not enough on the actual story. Because, guess what? I was.

I knew it all along, and I knew I’d have to fix it. There are so many important characters I introduced and then didn’t engage or utilize nearly well enough, all because I was so determined to get as many facts down as possible. At the expense of everything other than the plot.

The other reason why I might not have written as much as expected for this first draft is that – SPOILER ALERT! – the love interest isn’t even there most of the time. He’s in the very beginning and the very end. That’s it.

Without any swoons and sighs and such, it does make for a quicker read (and write).

Yet, regardless, I can’t be all that upset about the additional work I’m going to have to do for the second draft now that the first draft ended so soon. Not when it ended on such a perfect note!

I’m normally horrible about last lines. Like absolutely horrible. I hate them. They always sound so contrived to me. Might as well write “and they lived happily ever after,” as that’s as good as it’s going to get.

This one though? It’s beautiful! It’s perfect! It doesn’t require me to tear my hair out in anguish!

Which is a major relief. So I’m not going to look this mixed-gift horse in the mouth.

Designing America Draft 2? Here I come…

And yes, I promise the final copy will read like a story and not a history text book.

The Perks of Working for People Who Trash Talk You Behind Your Back

I’m writing today’s post on Monday afternoon, mainly because I’m in a meeting that’s about as boring as… ummm… something that’s really boring, okay? Since it’s sucking all creativity out of me, you’ll just have to take my word for it.

Far less mind-numbing is what I found out this morning about my direct supervisor and another supposed superior. While I was out of the office last week, they were trash talking me in front of a large room full of my direct coworkers.

In their defense, I had a rather busy four-week period where I wasn’t as reliable as I usually am. 

There was the Friday wedding late last month in New Jersey that I had to take a full day off for… the apartment pest issue on the 4th that had me out all day scrubbing down my apartment… Faeriecon two days later, which meant I took off another Friday… my younger sister going into labor, prompting me to leave work two and a half hours early last Tuesday… my flat tire on Wednesday… and then working from my parents’ house Thursday and Friday in order to give moral support to my exhausted mom.

Like I said, it’s been busy.

In my defense, however, other than those two Fridays, I handled every single task required of me despite some ridiculous deadlines. If my supervisor really has a problem with me, she should say it to my face in a private meeting. I gave her fair warning about everything that was going on, yet she told me it was okay.

Sounds like a horrid work environment, right? Well, it ain’t impressive. That’s for sure. But I’m truly grateful for it nonetheless. It offers something most other occupations don’t… an insane amount of downtime overall.

Because of that, I’ve had ample time to write eight of my now-published books, get through 40,000 words of Faerietales Book 5 and write another 40,000 words of Designing America. And that downtime is especially wonderful now that I’ve reached a tedious point in the latter.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still having a blast! But there’s too much cross-checking and unknowns for me to be able to write 1,000 words per hour like I was averaging before. So some extra story time is definitely appreciated.

Maybe I’ll even put my two “superiors” somewhere into Designing America. Considering how four of the British officers in Maiden America were also based on coworkers, I’m sure I can manage to fit two mean girls in somehow, right?

I’m thinking Americans loyal to King George III named Amanda Mahneck and Rachel Treaghart…

Oh, this is going to be fun!

Editor/Writer/Publisher's Note: Since writing this Monday, I have not only gone ahead and added Amanda Ross (name changed to fit historical facts) and Rachel Mahneck to the official story line; it also looks like they're going to serve as major catalysts!

In other news, I officially reached my NaNoWriMo-dictated goal of 50,000 words! And that was with Faeriecon and my new baby niece vying for my attention. Go me!

In other, other news, so what? I'm not even halfway through the story by my calculations. So it's right back to work... My new goal is to finish the entire first draft by the end of the year. Here goes something!

Since I’m Not Empress of the Universe…

Once again, I’ve been very remiss in writing my weekly Muses and Musings posts. And this time around, I can’t even blame it on my younger sister or my darling little niece.

Don’t get me wrong, I definitely did spend time fussing over L.J. and holding Maggie. But I also got another several thousand words down for Designing America, bringing my official word count up to 40,000.

Considering how I only have one book-related event this coming Sunday and no more nieces making their official debut into the world any time soon, my current plan is to reach that lauded 50,000 word-count by the 20th.

That’s the goal, but we’ll see. I do realize that life has a way of “happening.” And I’ve had ample opportunity over the past 32 years to see that I’m not in charge of those happenings, only how I handle them.

If I was in charge, believe me, there’d be a few little changes made. For one thing, I’d be empress of the universe. My first order of the day would be to force all Maryland drivers to retake their drivers’ test. FYI: Since most of them can’t tell the difference between a stop sign and a yield, most of them would fail. Miserably.

Since I still had to deal with Maryland motorists this morning, clearly I’m not empress of the universe. In fact, I’m not empress of anything, even my stories. As I’ve said before, I don’t rule my storylines in any way, shape or form. That came to light once again while incorporating historical details into my storyline last week.

(As a side note, I think I’m putting way too much historical detail into Designing America. I’m going to have to focus on adding dialogue and plot points into the second draft, since not everyone is obsessed with random period-specific factoids as I am.

No idea why.)

But back to not being empress… I was absolutely certain I knew how the next page or two were going to go. It was going to be perfect!

Until I wrote the very next line, where a nine-year-old character ended up stealing the scene and almost making me cry.

It’s that kind of surprise that makes writing such an adventure, taking my literary journeys on amazing twists and turns that end up being so much more worthwhile than if my word was law.

In which case, I suppose it’s better that I’m not empress. As much as I’d like to kick most Maryland drivers off the road, there’s so much to be said for letting someone else run the show.

Keep Writing!!!! Unless This Kind of Thing Happens. Then Who Cares About Your Novel.

I’m writing this blogpost really late today. Why? Because my beloved younger sister went into labor on Monday night.

I’ve never had kids. So when it comes down to it, I’m no expert on what it’s like to carry a baby inside me for nine months and then go through hours giving birth. But from everything I hear, that latter part is not a fun experience. So knowing that my kid sister (not really a kid at 28 years old, but still) was going through such trials and travails was more than a bit distracting.

I did get 2,000 more words written to Designing America on Monday night. But Tuesday was an absolute wash. I was practically crying at my desk that morning, drove up to Pennsylvania (where she lives) that afternoon, and then waited and waited and waited some more that evening.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my novel-in-the-making. I love the time period (Revolutionary War), I love the historical details, I love the characters and – sure – I love my own creative process.

It’s just that I love my sister so exceptionally, overwhelmingly much more. So while my fretting away over her experience didn’t do her a single bit of good, I can’t say that I regret focusing on her instead of my story.

There are just some things in life that are more important than NaNoWriMo. And family is one of them.

My Weekend at Faeriecon

I haven’t worked on anything NaNoWriMo in three days.

You see, there’s this little thing called Faeriecon that took place this past Friday, Saturday and Sunday. And that’s exactly where I was instead of working on my story.

Despite my absolute love of faeries, I only found out about this venue last year. So this year, instead of checking it out as a consumer, I went right ahead and signed up to sell my Faerietales books. I thought, what the heck! They’re about faeries, my books are about faeries… why not?

So I put together a fantastic poster, designed a new flyer to give out to any writer wannabes, and printed 100 copies of Not So Human, along with seven copies each of To Err Is Faerie and Up in the Air. Obviously, I was hoping to sell all of them, but I understood the very real possibility that I might lose several hundred dollars out of the venture.

Which I did.

Turns out, Faeriecon is more for people looking to dress up like faeries than to read about them. There were two other authors on the floor I was on, and they didn’t appear to be any more popular than I was. Though it wasn’t an entire wash, as I might have gotten some editorial clients out of it. I gave away the majority of my flyers, so here’s hoping for some bites!

Plus, some of my vending neighbors around me were highly entertaining. There was Bobby across the way, who was selling jewelry. He had vampire fangs, a kilt and a long list of entertaining stories to tell. And Lauren and Kristin right beside me were just as hysterical.

Lauren, a djinn, had painted herself the most vivid shade of blue, complete with large, twisted horns sticking out of her head. She looked utterly awesome, and while I was rather envious of her aqua pigment choice, there is no way I would want to duplicate the look, as it took her at least an hour and a half to get all done up every morning.

That’s patience I just don’t have.

Her best friend and business partner was a faerie with the curliest red hair ever. If Disney Princess Merida had pointy ears and wings, she would look exactly like Kristin. I swear. Once again… jealous.

But overall, lesson learned. Faeriecon is for faeries, not for authors.

Tomorrow, it’ll be right back to NaNoWriMo for me. Which, incidentally, isn’t worrying me despite my three-day sabbatical.

I reached 25,000 last Wednesday. So I think I’m good.

An Amusing Villain to Read About in Designing America (Just Not in the History Books)

Normally I write both week’s Muses and Musings blogposts on Sunday, but it’s now 8:11 in the morning on Wednesday, and I’m just starting today’s.

It’s been one of those weeks.

Not all in bad ways, admittedly. I mean, Sunday’s NaNoWriMo kick-off had me writing 10,000 words in a day. And between Monday and Tuesday, I wrote another 10,000 despite alleged bedbugs and a hectic work day, the combination of which had me sobbing like a 14-year-old on my mother for the first twenty minutes of my drive down to last night’s NaNoWriMo write-in.

Not fun, right?

But what is fun is my one villain. I hate to say that, because this isn’t a villain of my own making. Lieutenant-Colonel Banastre Tarleton was a real person and a real jerk according to American history books. You know The Patriot starring Mel Gibson? The antagonist in it... Colonel William Tavington, who locks civilians in a barn and then burns it down?

 

That wretched fictional character was based on the wretched real-life character of Tarleton. And while I didn’t come across any actual accounts of him burning anyone to death, what I did read was disturbing enough. Always a brash young man (who, it turns out, got a brief mention in Maiden America, though not by name), he was a skilled cavalryman and commander who didn’t think much of the people he was sent to subdue.

Hence the reason why, after his victory at the Battle of Waxhaws, South Carolina, he ordered his men to go through the list of surrendered American soldiers and bayonet them to death.

As for those men, it can easily be argued they were even worse. Here’s a history-filled excerpt from Designing America’s (and Maiden America’s) heroine Abigail Carpenter’s perspective:

The clear leader of the sizable Calvary reins in his brown horse, leaving the mount champing at the bit to get back to his canter. It’s a magnificent beast with its own mind, I can tell, so it says a lot about its seated master that it only tosses its head and lets out a whinny before quieting down altogether.

I know who that master is before he introduces himself. His immaculate attire speaks volumes by itself, as does the appearance of his men. They are all well-clothed and well-fed. In a group that size, that means they won’t be Americans.

I think the man himself in his mid-twenties, and he is very attractive to look at with his red hair and broad shoulders covered by a green coat with gold trimmings and buttons, and white breeches beneath. His hat is black and billed with a very large black plume atop it, and his boots are black up until his mid-calf and then brown the rest of the way to his knees. Moreover, along with the two buckled belts slung over each shoulder, he is fitted with a saber and a long musket.

His name is Lieutenant-Colonel Banastre Tarleton, and he’s a monster, no matter how pretty and proud he sits there before me. It is his men who have been accused of mutilating and murdering pregnant women. It was also two of his men who were hung back in May on Cornwallis’ orders, not their direct commander’s, on charges of robbery and rape.

I imagine not nearly enough of them swung from the gallows that day.

So again, I’m not proud of myself for smirking over this character. In my defense, he’s been nothing but nice to Abigail, since he’s trying to prove himself a respectable gentleman instead of the monster she very obviously regards him as during their entire first day of acquaintanceship.

That alone wouldn’t make me enjoy him (notice I’m staying far away from the word “like”). It’s the fact that, in trying to stay true to the history books, where even some of his fellow British officers described him as an arrogant little brat, I’ve turned Tarleton into just that… an arrogant little brat, who will roll his eyes in polite company when polite company turns tedious, and make the kind of comments you really want to say to irritating individuals but can’t because you’re too well-mannered.

It’s a bit hard not to snort in amusement over that kind of villain. I dare you not to do the same when I’m done writing Designing America.

Did I Achieve My Crazy Goal for Day One of NaNoWriMo?

Today was my very first day of NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. And here’s how it went…

I arrived at the kick-off event in Laurel, MD, at around 9:00 am. Armed with my laptop, my research books, three bottles of Vitamin Water, and 36 yogurts to share, I was ready to start my 1-month journey of writing the first 50,000 words of Designing America… or die trying.

Okay, not die, but definitely heave a sigh of regret. Same dif when you’re a melodramatic writer.

Anywho, I knew I had two challenges to overcome in this first week of NaNo, starting with the fear that I had already exceeded my creative quota for the quarter. In a pre-NaNo prep period, I had challenged myself to write 2,000 words per day of Flights of Fancy, the conclusion to the Faerietales series. And boy, did I do good with the test-run, completing 40,000 words in 17 days.

That’s awesome! Right? But also a little intimidating.

I mean, I couldn’t believe how easy it was to get my ideas down on paper. I barely struggled at all with writer’s block, leading me to wonder whether I would pay for that effortlessness when the deadline actually “mattered.”

I put quotation marks around the word “mattered” because NaNo doesn’t dictate anything. There are no prizes other than bragging rights that I know of. Yet I suppose I’m too competitive for my own good, because I’ve told myself that this shindig “matters” and so therefore it must.

My other concern going into Day 1 was the fact that I have a crazy week ahead of me with little time to write. Faeriecon is this Friday to Sunday, and Thursday night is going to be spent checking out what I have to work with there. So basically, today had to count for five days.

If I’m sticking to my 2,000-word goal, that’s 10,000 words down on paper by midnight, my official bedtime, which translates to a whole lot of pressure.

So how did I do?

I’m proud – no, thrilled. Ecstatic, even! – to say that at 9:24 pm, just shy of 12 hours after I wrote my first word, I hit that target. (Just for the record, there were a lot of breaks in there, sometimes hours long.) I can’t promise I won’t revise every single sentence I put down when I go back to edit the first draft, but hey…

As the cutesy little NaNo sticker I got puts it, this month is all about three things:

·         Moments of pure genius

·         Gaping plot holes

·         Unintelligible typos.

In which case, I’m right on track!