Am I Being Too Mean to My Villains?

About two months ago, I handed the fifth-draft copy of the upcoming Faerietales Book 4: Wing and Dagger to a certain influential individual in my life, figuring she could have fun reading it while I waited for my way-too-savvy editor to savage the thing.

Since the person in question is the whole reason why I wrote another installment in the series, I figured she’d be happy. And she was.

I think?

The reason why I’m not so sure is because she talked less about the aspects she liked and more about how, in the first three chapters, I’d been so mean to two particular characters.

Out of all of the possible criticisms I could have gotten, I never saw that one coming. Which was probably stupid considering her past reactions to how I’ve treated previous villains.

Yup, I said villains. The two characters she was upset about are bad guys. Unrepentant ones too. Martin was in Not So Human, where he pushed Sabrina to her literal snapping point, and Ryan was a manipulative little liar who tried to mess with her head in To Err Is Faerie.

Neither of them were main antagonists. But they certainly weren’t nice or good or likable.

Which means I don’t understand feeling bad for them. I didn’t throw them to crocodiles (which, admittedly, they don’t have in Scotland). I didn’t even have anyone beat them up, which they would have deserved considering how they’re still willingly employed by the HPAC.

All I did was make them think Sabrina was going to kill them. And in the creative world, that’s low-key. Practically chick-lit material, really.

If you want “mean,” how about having your protagonist track down his wife and daughter’s killers, inject them with paralyzing drugs and then saw them into pieces while they’re still alive?

I’m not making that up. I actually hope I couldn’t make it up, since it’s a level of disgusting I don’t care to dwell on.

(Never watch a movie just because it has a pretty face and form in it. Even Gerard Butler might not be able to make up for the rest of what you’re in for.)

I also can’t stand burning characters – villains or otherwise – or permanently disfiguring them in any other way, shape or form. If you want that kind of stuff, go read or watch Game of Thrones.

All of this is to say that I do think you can be too mean to your villains. However, I don’t think I crossed that line.

If I ever have, Ii can guarantee it’s my heroes who’ve suffer the worst. 

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.

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!

My Personal Challenge for November

November is almost upon us. And for writers, that means one thing: National Novel Writing Month, or NaNo!

As I explained in Monday’s blog, that’s the challenge to jot down the first 50,000 words to your next novel. What I didn’t mention is that I’ve never done it.

That’s not to say I’ve never completed the challenge so much. It’s more like I’ve never started it in the first place. In past years, I was always in the middle of a manuscript when November rolled around and unwilling to set it aside to start something new.

However, lo and behold, October dawned to the perfect situation… I had published all the books I’d planned on publishing for the year… I knew I’d soon complete the third draft of the first book I’ll be publishing in 2016 – Faerietales 4: Wing and Dagger… and I had finished up my research for Designing America, the story of the Battle of Yorktown, Virginia, and the sequel to Maiden America.

It was perfect!

Admittedly, since that was October 1st and there was no way I could go a whole month without writing anything, I started Faerietales 5: Flights of Fancy as a test run to see if NaNo was possible. I’ve always been skeptical of anyone apart from professional authors – who get paid to write all day – being able to write 50,000 words in one month.

Turns out though, it is possible! I started officially working on Flights of Fancy on October 15, and as of October 25, I was 26,000 words in. That’s an average 2,363 words per day! Moreover, I even had a social life during that time and worked some projects for my freelance business, Innovative Editing.

Admittedly, I’m also single and my day job involves sometimes significant downtime. So that certainly didn’t hurt. Neither did the fact that writer’s block hasn’t kicked in yet. I’m on a roll!

I don’t expect Designing America to be anywhere so easy, in large part because it’s a historical novel and I’m going to have to be flipping through my research books every other second to make sure I remember my facts correctly. Moreover, there’s no pressure right now; it’s not NaNo. Come next week, I might be making myself sick trying to make something happen that’s just not meant to be.

The 50,000-word deadline, I mean, not the novel itself. That’s happening one way or the other.

But hey… Bring it on! If nothing else, I’m more than ready to try.

The First Step Is Admitting You Have a Problem. Okay, I Can Do That Much...

Hello, my name is Jeannette DiLouie, and I have a writing addiction.

It all started when I was six years old and wrote my very first book with a word count of maybe 60. It seemed so innocent at the time. Not at all the kind of thing that would have me locking myself away in my apartment, shunning friends and ignoring family to focus on my addiction.

But that’s what it is. It’s an addiction. And it just seems to be getting stronger.

On Tuesday, October 13, I finished working on the third draft of my 12th novel-length manuscript, Wing and Dagger, the fourth installment of the Faerietales series. By Thursday afternoon, I had it uploaded to Amazon’s CreateSpace to order a proof for review. By Thursday evening, I had started writing two new books.

Two!

The first is the conclusion to Sabrina’s story, Faerietales 5: Flights of Fancy. The second is something much less certain. Who knows whether I’ll ever complete it…

It’s the story of Haley, a 10th grader who somehow develops the ability to read minds. It’s a power she’s always wanted to have, yet she quickly comes to realize it’s much more trouble than it’s worth. First off, knowledge isn’t always worth the cost. And secondly, if she had just stayed nice and normal, she never would have attracted the attention of Mr. Conner, who’s intent on using her gift for his own purposes.

Worse yet, I’m planning on starting still another story next month: Designing America, the novel I never had any intention of writing until my enablers (a.k.a. readers) pressured me into penning a sequel to Maiden America. Which was supposed to be a stand-alone book. I swear!

Then there’s the work I really, really, really hope to begin sometime next year: When Dignity Was a Crime. That’s all about Ariana, a spoiled little rich girl who lives in modern-day Boston and gets to go on a cruise ship through the Bermuda Triangle, an area frequently linked to paranormal activity. Her life dissolves into a science-fiction conundrum when she’s yanked back in time to Baltimore circa 1836 to experience history through her ancestors’ perspective. And since her father is descendent from slaves, that means she’s in one complicated mess.

So there. I admitted I have a problem. I’m a writing addict. You happy?

Now go away so I can get back to my plotlines.

President Obama Isn’t a Reptilian but Faeries Do Exist

Did you know President Barack Obama is an alien intent on subjugating the human race?

 

If you’re a liberal, hold the hate comments… Because so is former President George W. Bush. And British Prime Minister David Cameron. And Hollywood actress Angelina Jolie.

Actually, the same can be said of most powerful people throughout the ages, be they politicians or entertainers.

Think I’m insane yet? Well, I’m not. I’m just repeating what actual crazy people believe.

Crazy people like David Icke, a conspiracy theorist who says the planet is controlled by “reptilians,” shape-shifting aliens bent on global domination.

Oh yeah, and they like to drink our blood.

I learned about this from an ex (not the British one), who liked researching conspiracy theories. When he told me about reptilians, I thought it was hysterically entertaining to the point where I probably went a little overboard learning more.

My love affair with such ridiculousness ended abruptly after I discovered that David Icke based it all on a supposed vision he had. Greatly disappointed with what I deemed a total lack of imagination, I dropped the subject altogether.

Until I got 144 pages into Farietales Book #4 (which still doesn’t have a name).

No, Sabrina and her fellow faeries don’t co-exist with reptilians. Nor do they believe in them. I came up with a much cleverer, more logical and – dare I say – amusing way of incorporating the supposedly scaly, sinister aliens. And I grinned the whole entire way through.

I’m smirking right now just thinking about it. With the hope that you smirk too, here’s a snippet from the rough draft. I’m really hoping it makes the final cut…

(My most sincere thanks to my ex for providing me with such entertaining fodder!)

Five HPAC employees and two Scottish faeries were dead after the joint raid they’d conducted on Katharine’s house. So were twelve perpetrators. The firefight had been intense enough to alert the authorities upstairs, yet brief enough to maintain the anonymity of everyone involved. The only thing the cops found when they arrived was a fight scene with no fighters anywhere. Kenneth and Sabrina’s forces, along with the HPAC team, had extracted everyone, even the corpses.

International tabloids were already running their takes on what had happened, and conspiracy theories were running wild, though none of them mentioned faeries.

Alien abductions were high on the list. British conspiracy theorist David Icke’s group was going nuts about it. Those people had long-since claimed that reptilians – also known as reptoids, reptiloids, saurians or draconians – were out there X-files style. Though the aliens in question were significantly larger than the average human in their real forms, they were also shape-shifters, capable of looking like whatever average man or woman they wanted to.

Except, with that kind of power, who would want to be average? Certainly not the reptilians, who had a long history of messing with earthling governments. Strangely both political and apolitical at the same time, David Icke managed to both delight and irritate almost every political group ever. Because according to him and his followers, George W. Bush was an evil alien. As was Barack Obama. The same went for the UK’s Tony Blair and David Cameron, Germany’s Angela Merkel and the highest factions of Hollywood. Just about anyone with any iota of power throughout the ages was an extraterrestrial with a taste for human flesh.

Sabrina had learned about the group years ago thanks to a former boyfriend with an enormous IQ and matching nerd proclivities that had him reading anything and everything sci-fi related. It seemed to be her type, she supposed, which was working to her advantage now.

Justin Hills hadn’t actually believed in reptilians; he just liked researching them and other conspiracy theories. Since she’d found them fascinating as well, she’d listened with delight to his explanations about the cult, doing her own investigations on the side. As a result, she found the tabloid material exceptionally diverting.

Being a former newscaster himself, David Icke knew how to milk attention from any story presented to him. So he claimed to have video footage of reptilians sneaking away from the premises, holding onto limp human bodies. As expected, the documentation wasn’t high-quality, but the conclusion was solid nonetheless: The victims were headed for the dinner table.

This Month’s Big Publishing Reveal Is…

Today’s the 24th, and I have nothing to publish.

For the last seven months, I’ve announced the publishing of a book every time the 24th rolled around. I picked that number specifically because, once upon a time in a magical land called Moonachie, New Jersey, I was born one freezing February 24th.

So I thought it’d be kinda fun to run with it.

In January, I published Maiden America. In February, I debuted my Faerietales series with Not So Human, followed by To Err Is Faerie in March and Up in the Air in April.

Next was my Dirty Politics series. The Politician’s Pawn came out in May, Moves and Countermoves in June, and Amateurs Play Elsewhere was what I debuted for July.

Now it’s August. August 24th. And I’ve got nothing.

I’m not upset. All good runs have to end, and I’m having a blast editing the recently completed manuscript for Faerietales #4, even if I still have no clue what to call it. I’m also researching the siege of Yorktown for Maiden America #2, which does have a name: Designing America.

Both are fascinating and fulfilling, and I can’t wait to get them to the point where they’re publishable. Though that won’t be until next year, I’m sure.

That gives me another however many months’ worth of 24ths where I have no big announcements to make and nothing amazing to share. And considering that I don’t have another seven books lying around, I suppose I’ll never experience that particular kind of run again.

Oh well. Moving on.

I’m sure there are plenty more paths out there to explore!

Playing God Isn’t Always All It’s Cracked Up to Be

I love a good series.

Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files (fantasy fiction), Kate Quinn’s tale of Rome (historical fiction), Lauren Willig’s bouquet of flowery spies (historical fiction meets chicklit), Kyra Davis’  Sophie Katz (straight-up chicklit), Dee Henderson’s O’Malleys (Christian fiction), Seanan McGuire’s October Daye (fantasy fiction)…

My shelves are filled with them. There’s something about following a made-up character from book to book, seeing them grow, journeying with them as they struggle and cheering for them when they win that mimics real-life friendships. And friendship is a beautiful thing.

Yet reading a series and writing one are two very different experiences. At least, that’s how I felt while constructing the Dirty Politics trilogy. I was so happy I wrote them all before publishing them, seeing as how all the details I changed in The Politician’s Pawn while writing Moves and Countermoves, and Moves and Countermoves while writing Amateurs Play Elsewhere.

To me, it seemed unbelievable that an author could keep plot points and character development and themes running from novel to novel without taking some serious time to first map them out.

And who knows. Maybe that’s how Butcher and Quinn and Henderson do it. I don’t know.

But in writing Faerietales Book #4 after publishing the first three, this little pantser is learning that it might not be so intimidating after all. It can be a giant, intriguing puzzle that makes your brain swell and your eyes sparkle as you rise to the challenge.

Really, it’s a lot more like living life instead of playing God.

You see, someone who writes a single book is the deity of her created world. Her final word is law. End of story.

Until she publishes it and writes a sequel. Then, all of a sudden, she’s bound by the same rules as her characters.

I’m not gonna lie. It’s kinda scary letting that control go!

Yet it’s also totally doable. I’ve managed to turn minor characters from the original trilogy into much bigger players, develop details I’d intentionally left fuzzy, and revive old plots I thought I was done with.

Sure, I’ve also had to take different roads when my original brilliant ideas clashed with my canon. But overall, I have to say I’m enjoying this new journey with Sabrina instead of above her.

I guess that makes her one of my fictional friends.

What I Got Out of Being in a Carefully Crafted Harem

Normally, I’m difficult to phase emotionally. To a casual observer, I often come across as either a sweetie pie or a tongue-tied spaz case; but behind that cover, my snark stays undefeated.

Try treating me like I’m stupid, my opinion isn’t valid, or I’m just your next piece of you-know-what. It doesn’t affect me. Because you’ve already displayed how little I should care about your opinion.

Not to say I don’t get angry, sad, irritated or bewildered. I’m not a drone, after all. But off the top of my head, I can honestly think of just two men who got past those defenses to make me feel like trash: my creepy ex-coworker, Robert K., and my manipulative ex-friend, Damon W.

I already turned the former into a character in Maiden America, uncreatively naming him Lieutenant Robert Caverish. I also gave him the same disconcerting blue eyes, long lashes and bad habit of staring at his desired object until she wanted to disappear into the floor.

Ew. Yet as much as I can’t say the experience was worth it, I did enjoy getting back at him through my storyline.

These days, I’m getting the chance to do the same to Damon in the so-far unnamed and unfinished Faerietales Book #4. And yes, I'm loving it.

You see, I met Damon at college, where I quickly came to consider him as the big brother I’d never had but always wanted. He teased me, made me laugh, taught me drinking games and naughty words, but still gave a completely convincing impression that he cared about me.

Until the day he found out I fell for someone. My British boy, to be exact.

Unbeknownst to me, I had become part of Damon’s carefully crafted harem of women he used to make himself feel better about life. I belonged to him; and as such, I wasn’t allowed to date anyone else. Which he let me know by trying to seduce me.

He never did. Never even got a kiss. I take great pride in the fact that I'm one of the few women on this planet Damon tried and failed with. But he did manage to make me feel helpless and small and uncertain… for months on end.

If you asked me why I didn't dump him as a friend right on the spot, I'd have to tell you that he got into my head enough that I made excuses for him. I concluded that he was more damaged than I'd originally realized, that it was a one-time screw-up on his part, that he wasn't really "like that." So I have plenty more Damon stories to tell after that low point in life, not that they fit into Sabrina's faerietale at all.

What does fit in, however, is the larger theme of him being one of the greatest emotional con-artists you’ve never heard of.

Until you read Book #4, of course.

Can’t wait ‘til it’s done!

Stranger Than Fiction: What If My Characters Weren’t Characters at All!?!

There’s this movie with Will Ferrell called Stranger Than Fiction.

I’d say it’s really good for a Will Ferrell movie except that it’s really good for any movie.

Plot, characters, acting, opportunities for introspection: This film has it all. And it’s original too! As far as I know, anyway.

The storyline follows Harold Crick, a thirty-something IRS agent who leads the most monotonous life ever until he’s assigned to Ana Pascal, a bakery-store owner who’s intentionally not filed her taxes properly for years. Naturally, the unlikely pair falls in love, but that’s not why Stranger Than Fiction is so brilliant.

It’s brilliant because of the backstory, which follows Karen Eiffel, a famous novelist who always kills her main characters off at the end of her books. And this time around, her main character is Harold Crick. Only she doesn’t know she’s writing about a real live person.

I own the movie. It’s good enough to watch repeatedly. But it always makes me wonder…

What if my characters were real?

When Karen Eiffel learns that she’s been essentially murdering real people – that she’s a serial killer – she’s horrified. As well she should be. And while I don’t normally kill off the good guys (if she was reading this, my darling mother would point out – with a disapproving air – the three exceptions to that rule), I do a lot of other horrid things to them.

I mean, in the Faerietales series, Sabrina gets terrorized mentally, emotionally, physically, psychologically… and by multiple characters. If some poor young woman was really chained to an evil shrink’s couch being questioned at the end of an electric baton because I dictated it?

Than, pretty much, I’m a horrible human being.

The same applies to Kayla in the Dirty Politics series. Evans brought some of the torture on himself, but I still gave him a rotten backstory to explain why he went rogue. (I’m so sorry, Sarah!) And I’ll even admit I’d feel bad for putting Rod through what I did. It’s amusing if he’s just fictional; not so much if he was an actual human being.

When it comes to my historical and Christian fiction stories, I did some serious research for those two. They’re based off of too much verifiable documentation for me to blame my imagination.

But as for my fantasy and political thrillers? Well, I would like to take this moment to express my most sincere hope that reality really isn’t stranger than fiction.

Faerietales 4: Because Trilogies Are So Cliché

At the beginning of the month, I mentioned how I’d started another story despite my plans to work on completely different novels.

So here’s the big reveal now that  I've officially published Faerietales 3 (available on Amazon.com in both print and Kindle copies)... I’m working on Faerietales Book 4.

It had to happen, I suppose, considering all the questions I left unanswered at the end of the appropriately named “Up in the Air.”

It’s not a cliff-hanger ending. Don’t worry, guys. I had originally intended this to be the last Sabrina-focused book, and so I gave her a promising new future. But it did still end in such a way that left a whole lot of room for a whole new story.

At least that’s what a certain lovely, lovable, obnoxious someone I know told me after reading Book 3. And I guess I caved to the pressure.

Nah… That’s not being fair to her. If anything, she got my imagination fired up. That’s it. The rest is all my fault.

So here I am, typing away, reusing memorable tertiary characters from “Not So Human” and “To Err Is Faerie” that I never thought I’d write about again. Oh yeah, and I’m introducing a new character based on one of the greatest emotional con-artists I’ve ever personally met.

Unexpected though it is, it’s totally fun!

Don’t ask me what the title is, because I’ve got nothing right now. But I do have a good grasp of where the plot is going. And let me tell you… It’s going to rock! As is Sabrina. No more scarred little faerie… This princess is ready to rule.

Since I’m still in the early stages of writing, don’t expect this baby to fly free until next year. But here are a few elements I may or may not have already written into existence:

·         There may or may not be a wedding involved.

·         There may or may not be a faerie plot to kill humans for a change.

·         And Sabrina may or may not have to work hand in hand with the HPAC at some point.

I wish I could say more, but I really can’t. For one thing, it would be giving away too much of the recently-debuted “Up in the Air,” which is now available on Amazon.com in both Kindle and print copies.

But also, I don’t like locking myself into anything. I reserve the right to go back and edit out anything I want to until I push that “publish” button.

In the meantime, feel free to post any suggested titles in the comments below. I’ll take all the help I can get!

Why Is the HPAC President a Black Woman From Africa?

Here’s a question some people might wonder after reading parts two and three of my Faerietales trilogy… Why in the world did I make the HPAC president a black, African woman instead of like my otherwise very white, Western-World male villains?

Great question, and I have an immediate answer: I have no clue.

The unnamed but very distinctive Madame President was never anything else in my mind. She came into being with the gender and skin color and origins that she did, and I never paused to dispute it.

I don’t plan out most of my characters. Yes, some are based off of specific people, whether friends or acquaintances or public figures. But for the most part, they just kinda come with the physical characteristics and personality traits that they do.

Deanda, for example, was supposed to be based off of my two best friends. Instead, she took on her own sense of self. And neither of the women I originally intended her to mirror have the long, dark, curly brown hair that she does. Or violet eyes. That’s simply the parameters she “was born” with.

Dr. Stewart? He was always a dark-haired, blue-eyed, self-satisfied and very intelligent creep.

And Kyla? I’ve got to admit that I’ve kinda come to associate at least her image with one of the characters from Disney’s Tinker Bell movies (Fawn, for anyone who cares). But she came part and parcel with her delicate frame and confident personality.

I don’t know anyone like her. Or Dr. Stewart, for that matter. The latter of which I’m very happy about.

The same goes for Madame President. I have to say that I’m really rather happy she popped into my head and onto my Microsoft Word doc that way, and not just because the Faerietales trilogy would have been a little too pasty otherwise.

I do like showing that there’s no perfect group out there. Anyone can be bad if they only choose to be. Black, white, male, female, intelligent, slow, North American, European, African… and yes, human or faerie (if faeries existed, which they don’t, of course. I know that. Really). We’ve all got it in us to behave pretty darn rotten when we want to.

Hence the reason why I pick on just about everyone I can in my writing, including both major American political parties (my own included) in my upcoming Dirty Politics series. (Then again, I also pick on both sides because I can’t stand most politicians, whatever letters come before or after their names. But that’s a topic for another blog post.)

So while it does delight me to have Stewart and Morrison kowtowing to a chick, I can’t take any real credit for that fact. Madame President is who she is; there’s nothing more to it than that.

Scottishisms: No, They’re Not Typos

Anyone who read the first two books of my Faerietales series – “Not So Human” and “To Err Is Faerie” – may very well have noticed some stuff that looks a whole lot like typos.

If you thought I screwed up and missed an edit, that’s understandable. But I swear that isn’t what happened. They’re what I call “Scottishisms.”

Way back in January – I believe for my first blog post, actually – I wrote that I had made a fool of myself with my Scottish editor, writing “British” and “English” as synonymous terms when they’re not at all.

For those of you who didn’t read that blog and who are on the same ignorant level as me, “British” means any citizen of the British Isles, i.e. the United Kingdom; whereas “English” means someone from the much more specific geographic locale of England. Makes sense, right?

Editor Alan Freeman was exceptionally helpful in pointing out that kind of blush-worthy mistake, and he’s also responsible for helping me flesh out my setting with lines like:

“The dense cityscape gave way to seedier neighborhoods, and then again to suburban high-rises until the last of even those buildings disappeared. The limousine kept rolling through flyovers and farmland, and finally into a hilly scenery that was downright stunning.”

That’s from “Not So Human” when Sabrina takes in the Scottish countryside. I had already seen that years ago, so I was able to remember the following thought without any outside help:

“Sabrina had heard people talk about the forty shades of green in Ireland, but she couldn’t imagine seeing more human versions of the color than what she saw on the thirty-minute ride.”

But Alan was the one who prompted the very next lines of:

“And when they drove into a brief rain shower, the following delicate light dancing off of both watery leaves and roadway made the journey even more picturesque.

“Staring out the tinted windows, Sabrina made an offhand comment about the strange weather, only to learn that it wasn’t strange at all. According to her driver, whose partition was down, the Scots had a saying: four seasons in one day.”

Love it, right? And there were plenty of smaller edits he also suggested, such as changing:

·         “Wouldn’t” to “wouldnae”

·         “Not” to “nae” or even “no”

·         “Brook” to “burn”

·         “Such” to “suchlike.”

Oh, and apparently the Scots don’t say “mate” like the Brits – excuse me, English – do. They’re much more likely to say “pal.”

Overall, I was pretty delighted with the changes he recommended. Though I do have to take some issue with the vernacular edits he made to the English Dr. Stewart’s dialogue in Faerietales 3: “Up in the Air” (which is out April 24 on Amazon.com).

Some of them were just downright creepy! I mean, I know I intentionally designed Stewart to be a wretched jerk, but he even had me shuddering with his new vocabulary choices.

Ugh!

Maybe there’s a reason why the English make such convincing villains. Their language alone is disturbing.

Disney World: A Break From the Dark Side of Faerietales

Two weeks ago, I flew down to Disney World, where I paid over $100 to walk around out in the hot sun and wait in lots of lines.

According to the marketing department over at Disney, this all makes for a magical experience, filled with love, laughter and dreams-come-true.

I might be 32 years old, but I willingly admit I fell for that advertising ploy hook, line and sinker.

Between flying on magic carpets, getting pixie dusted, purchasing one of the “Mine. Mine. Mine” birds from “Finding Nemo” for my one best friend Ashleigh (she got me back for that unauthorized purchase by refusing to let me pay for my Tinker Bell paraphernalia purchases), and singing “Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me” along with lifelike Johnny Depp figurines on the “Pirates of the Caribbean” ride, I had an absolute blast.

I even got to meet Tinker Bell, which I’ll admit I felt very, very stupid about at the time. After I made such a very big deal out of the opportunity, my four fine friends who were vacationing with me followed me into line and then refused to let me leave when I wanted to back out.

Let me tell ya, the actress who played Tinker Bell? Amazing!

She never broke character once, exclaiming over my “lost things” earrings, coming up with gadgets she could make out of them, and generally behaving so very much like the little kid’s cartoon character she was supposed to be that she had me talking to her like she was a three-year-old instead of a twenty-something like I’m sure she was.

I hope that girl gets a pretty paycheck for that kind of skill. I’m downright certain I wouldn’t have the patience for that job. (For that matter, neither would Sabrina, no matter what the cashier says at the beginning of “Not So Human.”)

Now, I’ll admit, if I wasn’t with such a great group of people, Disney World wouldn’t have been nearly so much fun. And I can’t imagine going there more than once every few years, which I’ve heard some people do.

But I left one happy little kid, covered in “pixie dust” glitter, clutching my bag of Tinker Bell acquisitions, and loaded up with fun pictures of tea cups, castles and elaborate treehouses first found on deserted islands.

Disney might be utterly ridiculous in so many ways, but it gets it right at least in this regard... Sometimes, it really does pay to “let it go” and forget your age.

Tinker Bell Stole My Credit Card

Here’s a piece of information that won’t shock anyone who knows me or who has read any part of my Faerietales series, starting with the first few chapters of Book 1: “Not So Human.”

I like Tinker Bell. A lot.

I mean, I intentionally created my main character Sabrina to look like Tinker Bell, va-va-voom curves and all.

Back at my apartment, I have Tinker Bell mugs, glasses, throw blankets and a lamp. I named my new flash drive Tinker Bell (for which my family gave me much-deserved grief), and I even have Tinker Bell pillowcases and t-shirts, both of which are safely tucked away in my closet.

I have to draw the maturity line somewhere, and at 32 years old, I figure having cartoon characters on my bed or torso is a bit too much.

Why do I love the pint-sized pixie so much? Well, mainly because she’s a sassy little minx (other less polite words might suffice here as well) who says and does whatever she wants to. Sometimes, I wish I could just tell people what I’m thinking so blatantly too.

Sadly though, my mama taught me to be polite and considerate of other people’s feelings. Drat.

Anyway, I’m mentioning all of this because, this week, I’m going to be down in Orlando, Florida… at Disney World! And therefore, I will be surrounded by Tinker Bell paraphernalia galore.

I’m telling myself that I won’t buy anything. I don’t need it to begin with, and how am I going to fit it all into my suitcase anyway?

That’s my logical side saying all of that. And yes, believe it or not, Tinker Bell fanatics can have logical sides. Remember: I don’t actually wear my Tinker Bell shirts out in public any more.

Unfortunately for my wallet, I also have an illogical side… which is telling me that it’s humanly impossible to resist such concentrated amounts of adorable sass. Maybe faeries like Sabrina can resist such siren calls, but I’m just too weak.

And then there’s my very illogical side. That’s formulating even more ridiculous excuses to go nuts down at Disney. So far, this is my favorite one:

It wasn’t my fault: Tinker Bell stole my credit card!

Dratted pixie.

Creating a Villain. Or Two. Or Three.

In Faerietales Books 1 and 2, I have three main villains… Which, come to think of it, is rather mean of me. Pitting Sabrina against any one of them is bad enough, but all three? That’s definitely an unfair fight, even with her superior faerie strength and sense of snark (i.e. sarcasm).

Oh well. The stories are already written, and I ain’t changin’ them. So she’ll just have to deal.

And yes, if I was Sabrina (which I’m not, since I have short brown curly hair and brown eyes, not straight yellowish hair and green eyes. Such a big difference), I’d hate me.

But moving on to how I created Mr. Smiley, Dr. Morrison and Dr. Stewart.

Believe it or not, I didn’t base them on anyone in particular. Not at first anyway. Stewart did take on a few characteristics of a former creepy coworker of mine, but that was in much later drafts.

The truth is that all three characters are fairly “typical” villains, when you think about it. There’s nothing redeeming about any of them, and unless you’re way too kindhearted for your own good (*cough* *cough* *Mom*), readers are supposed to want them dead. That’s how I intended it.

I could have gone into depth about their good qualities, since I do believe everyone has at least one. I can’t think of a single person who is wholly evil, though some individuals certainly come close.

Simply put though, I didn’t want to. I wanted to show how ugly bigotry (Mr. Smiley), egotism (Dr. Stewart) and unscrupulous pursuits of science (Dr. Morrison) can get.

Warning: Here’s where I might get a bit preachy.

Most of us know that judging people by generalized category is unfair and hurtful. The same goes for being an arrogant little prat, placing our inclinations above everyone else all the time.

But idolizing intellectual studies can be just as dangerous. How so? Try talking to a pretentious English major and you’ll understand pretty darn quickly.

Ok, that’d be more like chit-chatting with Stewart, not Morrison. So check out the Nazis instead.

It’s a documented fact that the Nazis were inspired by Darwinian science. They used it to justify the designation of “sub-humans” suitable for lab rat-status. And the experiments they consequently ran on twins, dwarfs and other individuals with genetic anomalies were revolting.

(If you ever want nightmares, do a study on Nazi doc Josef Mengele. Ugh!)

That kind of intellectual superiority, which doesn’t always show itself so vividly, bugs the heck out of me. Hence the reason why I probably portrayed certain villains as harshly as I did.

Then again, come to think of it, maybe Morrison, et al were inspired by some of my college profs... Hmm.

Some of the Most Fun Book Dedications I’ve Ever Seen! (Mainly ‘Cause I Wrote Them)

No offense to other writers, but I find most book dedications drippy and uninteresting. They’re obviously geared toward one or two people, though presented to thousands… maybe even millions.

For my part, I like having fun with them. I already told you back in January about my historical novel “Maiden America” (available on Amazon.com in print and Kindle copies), which I took great delight in dedicating to some real-life antagonists of my own. (This is why you shouldn’t tick off writers.)

But here are a few more of my favorite ones I’ve written…

Faerietales Book 1, “Not So Human” (available on Amazon.com in print and Kindle copies):

To Danae, who read this story cover to cover repeatedly… Thank you so much for putting that time and effort in. It meant more than I can possibly say. To Christina, my favoritest big sister ever… I owe you for tearing into all the tiny details the way you did. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m certainly glad you’ve got my back. And to Tanja, who caught a few glaring errors as well… I love you. Just not enough to give you money.

Faerietales Book 2, “To Err Is Faerie” (available on Amazon.com in print and Kindle copies on March 24, 2015):

To my usual cohorts, Christina and Danae, for reading this over and telling me when to dial my creative proclivities down a notch or two (or three or four). And to my darling, kindhearted mom, who still loves me even though I didn’t give a certain HPAC villain the redemption story she wanted me to. In my defense, he really didn’t deserve one.

And to my brother… He doesn’t care about my writing, but he is awesome. (He added that in himself.)

My brother really did add that last bit in, and I thought it was way too entertaining to take out.

Dirty Politics Book 1, “The Politician’s Pawn” (available on Amazon.com in print and Kindle copies on May 24, 2015):

To Ashleigh, the best nurse and fellow cookie dough connoisseur a girl could ask for. Thanks for ensuring I didn’t mess up any of the medical details! And to Christina, for lending her ever-thorough eye and making sure I didn’t get eaten by a shark before I could write this story down. Clearly, I owe you big time. Like REALLY big time.

I wish I was kidding about that last part, since getting eaten by a shark is one of my worst fears in life. Christina and I were out in the ocean a few years ago when we saw a shark fin go by. Christina, being the intelligent creature that she is, started walking back to shore since we were only up to our chests.

Me? I tried to swim it, and then panicked when a wave dragged me further out… toward the shark. If you know anything about sharks, then you know that thrashing around like an idiot is the absolute worst thing you can do around them. Yet that’s exactly what I ended up doing.

Christina had to get right in my face, and nearly knock me out, to make me calm down enough to walk to safety.

I have the best big sister ever.

Not So Human

On Monday, I promised I’d talk more about my upcoming novel, Not So Human, the first installment of my Faerietales series. (And yes, I know I spelled “Faerietales” incorrectly. It was on purpose.)

As the title implies, the story is about someone who isn’t nearly as normal as she thinks she is. She’s in fact – *GASP!* – a faerie.

I know. You totally didn’t see that one coming, right?

The story actually started out autobiographical in nature. You see, once upon a time, I was working a temp job where I had about fifteen minutes worth of tasks each morning, and then pretty much nothing else to do for my remaining eight hours and fifteen minutes there.

Don’t ask me why they needed a temp in the first place. It was an utter waste of their money.

It also isn’t my idea of a good time. Neither is listening to coworkers who constantly joke about inane sexual stuff, like using animal crackers as condoms. I kid you not.

But moving on…

My boredom and disgust pushed me to start writing about a 24-year-old college grad stuck in a dead-end temp job with coworkers who could put Spencer’s gifts to shame. And somehow or another, my story took off from there, landing squarely in the fantasy realm.

Here’s the recap:

Sabrina might not care for everything about herself, but she’s still fairly used to being a human, an orphan and an everyday average American. However, her life changes forever the day she’s followed home by four men in dark suits and sinister shades. A crash-course in reality reveals that she’s actually a faerie princess, with a royal family in Scotland and some particularly brutal enemies hunting her down in the U.S.

Fleeing the country doesn’t solve her problems though. It only adds to them. With her new tiara to try on for size and a potential romance that seems bound to go badly before it begins, Sabrina still has to stay one wing ahead of the Human Preservation and Advancement Committee. Which has made its mission to ruin her life. Permanently.

And here's the working cover. I know it's a bit blurry, but this is the general idea: