It’s a Good Thing When You Like Your Own Book, But…

As a general rule, I like my own books. Which is a good thing considering how many times I read them over, changing words, rearranging paragraphs, scrapping scenes and fixing plot points to get them as perfect as possible for publication.

(To anyone who hates alliteration, I apologize for the sentence above.)

Right now, I’m putting the finishing touches on “Not So Human,” the first installment in my Faerietales trilogy (which, incidentally, might turn into a four-part series since I may or may not have started fiddling around with another book last week. I'm sick; what can I say). 

I have a printed copy in book-form, and I’m going through it line by line one last time to make nitpicking changes before I officially publish it on February 24.

Honestly, I’m enjoying myself as I do. Not to say that my red pen isn’t coming out, but I rather love my story about Sabrina and her flight to stay one step ahead of the evil, faerie-hating Human Preservation and Advancement Committee. I’m almost up to the part where I introduce a crucial new character, which has me smirking in anticipation, even as I write this.

I kinda love this particular upcoming character. And not just because I designed him with most of my specs on male physical perfection in mind. He's also quite the entertaining blend of everything that can drive a girl mad... in the best and worst of ways.

Like I said, it’s great that I’m so delighted with my own story. It’d be sad if I wasn’t. But my opinion isn’t the only one that’s gone into the final product, and I'll admit that some of the outside opinions I've solicited have been downright irritating at some point or another.

Based on such feedback, I’ve cut out entire sections, deleted I-don’t-know-how-many random words, and added setting details I could personally care less about since I can see the scenes in question just fine in my head, thank you very much. (I also don’t care very much about setting as a reader, which shows in my writing if left to my own inclinations.)

I’m saying all of this to admit that it’s not always fun receiving criticism. But hey, like I said on Monday's blog post, what doesn’t kill a writer makes her story stronger… and her readers a whole lot happier.

Which makes it all worthwhile.

So since no writer - at least no good writer - is an island, thank you to all the people who already read “Not So Human.” Since I was too busy enjoying my oh-so-amazing story lines and OMG, like totally engaging characters... I really needed someone to do the necessary nitpicking I couldn’t do on my own.

So editors, please know that I appreciate you in the long run! 

No matter what I might say in the short term.

What Doesn’t Kill You Can Go in Your Novel

They say “it takes all kinds” to make the world turn, but let’s face it: That motion could be a whole lot smoother without certain people around.

Like, I don’t know…

·         That person who doesn’t like you for no good reason, as far as you can tell

·         The boss who doesn’t give you a raise or bonus two years in a row without explanation

·         Your ex who really was a nice person but lacked the spine to be honest with himself so that he vacillated about the relationship every other day until you’re forced to break up with him on New Year’s Eve, ensuring an utterly miserable evening.

Not that I have anyone in particular in mind, of course…

Except that I do. Obviously. And yeah, I don’t care for the individuals described in bullet points one and two. As for the third example, well, I sincerely wish him the best despite how he could have saved us both a lot of trouble way back when by making up his mind one way or the other.

Life is filled with such annoyances. And there’s often nothing much to be done about them.

Unless, of course, you’re a writer.

One of the many beauties of writing stories is that you can take the kind of revenge on reality-inspired characters that you could never take in real life. Not to say I go around knee-capping my supervisors or burning down other antagonists’ houses with them in it. I could if I wanted to, but that’s probably going a bit too far. I don’t dislike them THAT much.

However, I have given one little letch I used to work with debilitating stomach cramps. Twice. That’s in “Maiden America.” I don’t regret doling out that batch of poison one bit.

And I portray politicians from both parties as conniving, arrogant lawbreakers with delusions of godhood in my upcoming Dirty Politics series. That round of venting felt pretty good too.

But above and beyond the emotional enjoyment of sticking it to the man or woman or group of people driving me crazy, I can use that real-world experience with negative factors to make my fiction more believable and ultimately entertaining and/or compelling.

Hence the reason why I wrote my dedication to “Maiden America” the way that I did:

This book goes out to the amazing individuals who listened to me 
blather on and on and on (and on) about how cool all my historical 
research on Princeton circa 1776 was. You know who you are!

And also to some particularly obnoxious people of my 
acquaintance, who made for amazingly easy models of irritating 
British officers. I could have done it without you guys, but it 
wouldn’t have been nearly so much fun.