I  word counted my novel, and I have too many words! I never thought I’d end up with more than 120,000 of the little buggers. Uh-oh.

What should I cut? What are the parameters for cutting? (Back to HTRYN directions.) How long should a debut space opera novel be, anyway? Should I play the game in my query letter and follow the rules set by publishers? Could I divide my monster into two books? Is self-publishing an option?

Honestly, I did think about all this when I started the novel, I really did.  According to my plan, I estimated I’d barely make 100,000. Because my writing is so lean, I sold myself short. Keeping the balls in the air, chapter to chapter, page to page, and scene to scene obliterated all but the most immediate problems from my frazzled mind.

Panic overwhelmed me, but TX from the HTRYN forum  comforted me with an upbeat and encouraging discussion about agents, editors, and publishers. I’ve made my decision, and now I’m working revision again. Turns out it’s not as bad as I thought, and there’s something reassuring about writing tight and struggling to cut. I’m telling the story with grace and clarity. I am where I want to be as a rookie writer.

Sort of.

How about you, fellow Word Wizards? Are you over or under, or do you care?

My husband chipped in for my bigger screen monitor, and I’m waiting for its delivery like a kid waits for Christmas morning.

This thing is huge. Not as decadent as the 24″ and 27″ iMac screens at work, but it’s big. At 21 1/2 inches, I’ll will be able to see the Whole Word Page. I’ll be able to open two files at once, see them both, full size, real deal, OMG.

What a relief. For the last year, I’ve struggled with a 17″ Samsung screen. It works fine,  but my eyes are killing me. Also, believe it or not, I’m sneaking up on the last phase of final revision. Only nine chapters to go. The event horizon is in view, and now it will be real size, sexy and gorgeous.

And, this new monitor has speakers that, according to the reviews, aren’t great. Who cares? I’m sure they are better than the speakers that came with the tower.

But, one draw back. Beautiful screens like this lead to evil time-wasting. The lure of TV episodes has already wormed its way on to my iPod. Imagine how amazing True Blood and Game of Thrones will look on my new screen. (Now you know my guilty pleasure viewing habits.) And, heaven forbid, I could even become a gamer.

Naw.

I have too much writing to do.

Sacrifice. Operative word. Anything a writer slings out into pixel land is immediately absorbed and lost. While I’m not saying my plot, theme, and characters are particularly valuable, they could be stolen, copied, or reinterpreted. The way I write is unique, it is mine. I won’t share it. Not yet.

Being published is an affirmation many writers, myself included, seek. After publication sharing my work doesn’t seem threatening, but before publication it’s out of the question. For me.

I‘ve heard J. K. Rowling kept her first manuscript and ideas in a box. The contents of the box were off-limits to everyone. Everyone.  Maybe this is just a myth about a famous author, but maybe she still protects her writing this way.

If she does, I understand.

So, those of you who want a sneak peek, please be patient. Someday my novel will be available in a book store near you or on your kindle. And, I’ll be thrilled to autograph it for you!

Chapter 14 revision completed.

Onward!

I didn’t send a card. I sent you a blog.

I want to thank you for the many things you did that natured me creatively.

You read to me.

You taught me to draw, read and write.

You taught me how to think outside the pencil and how to translate concept to graphite on paper.

You introduced me to science-fiction and fantasy, from Azimov to mZb, and everyone in between.

You taught me chemistry in the kitchen and string theory in the living room.

You shared your love of the natural world, and you still love it. You are the only one in your building with a garden on your porch.

You taught me the survival skills of making bread, feeding a family, and washing my own clothes.

You took me on flights of fancy and walks of mystery.

You taught me the importance of women friends.

Thankyou, darling girl.

Here are the photos I promised.  In no particular order and a rookie layout. If you run your cursor over the photos information about them will appear.

Our brains are our personal aquifer. Everything we have ever done, seen, or felt nestles between our ears. Our memories are like water moving through the chaos saturated rock of every day life. The constant pulse of the present slows the flow of these memories until, over the years, they become a trickle.

Three weeks ago, a young friend of mine died suddenly. The circumstances of her death were tragic.  Unexpectedly, memories of my life with her family began flowing again, gushing up through the years into right now.

Within a few days of learning of her death, I wanted to write about grief and  how we handle loss. It shouldn’t be too hard, I thought, as I sniffled into one soggy tissue after another.  After all, you’re a writer, I told myself. You can express these feelings and share them, adding compassion and depth to your work.

It was much more difficult than that.

At first, I thought I would write about her, the girl I knew and our times as a family. But that seemed too much like a memoir.  Or perhaps, I could chronicle the last year of her life.   But that seemed too much like tasteless  prying. How did I want her to be remembered?

Remembering her through my fictional characters as a beautiful child,  a gorgeous young woman and a loving mother sounded like an excellent idea. So, the next time I need a sprightly little girl, a daring young gal, or a fierce warrior, she’ll be ready to step into my story.

Writers can, if we choose, let the dead speak through our words and let our memories speak for the dead.  And, if we are able to do so, it is our obligation.

Onward.

The problem is, I don’t like the plan I made when I was writing out my revision scene cards, and I don’t like my outline. My novel bogs down in the middle. It’s as simple as that. I feel as though I’m pushing a boulder up a hill with a straight pin, and I’m not sure what to do next.

Part of me wants to plunge on ahead, following the scene cards in spite of my reservations. Another part of me wants to combine the chapters, skimming off a bit of each scene, melding what remains into something tight and clear. Yet another side of my whirling mind says go back, do all three chapters over, from scratch.

I won’t do over, but I may combine the scenes into two chapters instead of three. All that’s necessary is a better outline.  After all, three chapters of crossing the universe in an escape boat the size of a school is more than my  stalwart characters can endure.  It’s certainly driving me nuts; I hate to think what it’s doing to them. I don’t even want to think what my beta readers would say about this.

Keeping the story moving, focusing on immediacy and intensity, will get my heroes to their destination with their lives and my sanity in tact.

Onward!

What recurring themes show up in your writing?

As you can imagine, the answers ran the gamut from beautiful to beastly, from twinkling to twisted.

My particular theme is moral ambiguity, and it affects all of  my characters. I make them deal with those inevitable times when dark vs light = grey, when they find themselves on the left side of right. Are they bad people if they make a morally ambiguous decisions?

What does it take to make a person step into the light — or not. I’m talking about more complicated issues than black and white “Come over to the dark side, Luke” tales. I’m speculating on how people grapple with the conscious choice to pursue a path that is not ethically correct but is expedient at the moment.

I love this theme. I use it with humor in some stories and with horror in others.  I see it everywhere in life, and it adds a layer of conflict to my fiction I couldn’t get any other way. It fascinates readers because we’ve all been there.

Another theme I use is the semi-happy ending. To me, a happy ending isn’t always necessary. Certain genres depend on happy endings but my genre, whatever it is, does fine without hand-in-hand, off into the sunset stuff. Even though I’m writing fiction and science-fiction at that, I want to push my characters to their limit. Readers want to see what characters will do and wonder if, in the hero’s shoes, if they would do the same.

Rewrite update: Chapter Ten in the hopper.

So, what the heck are they doing all this time, and how do I keep my readers enthralled?

This is a tough one. Until now, every chapter has been fast paced, full of action, emotion, and menace. Suddenly, seven people are cooped up in a tiny ship the size of a Greyhound bus (yes, they still have Greyhound buses), travelling X 2 infinity miles an hour (I love space opera — relativity be damned!). Things are going to slow down, whether I like it or not.

It came to me today these chapters are created in the same way I paint an oil painting.

First, I fill  the canvas with a delicate  background tone. The viewer doesn’t see this color when the painting is finished (unless the artist wants her to) but, without this background, the painting will be flat. It’s the  same for a slower paced chapter. The background color is the world these characters inhabit, the food they eat, the segments of their days, the blackness of space filling the observation ports, the paint peeling off the bulkheads — you get the idea.

Next, I paint my scene, using broad stokes, bold colors, white space, dark space. The viewer’s eye travels the canvas to the point of interest. And, in my chapters, the point of interest is the lives of these characters. They share broad strokes of memory with each other, tales of bold actions, admissions of the white space of triumph and confessions of the dark spaces of despair.

So, in other words, they talk to each other. This talk has to hold the reader, keep him wondering and hoping for a good outcome for the heros. And fearing their unknown fate.

Onward!

The uncontrolled repetition of my blog got me thinking. Repetition and success go hand in hand. Sounds like a duh observation, I know, but without repetition nothing gets done. Repetition encourages good habits — like writing every day and finishing your revision. But, it also encourages bad habits — tinkering with Facebook, eating too much chocolate, or staring off into space (don’t confuse this with Spring Fever which is right around the corner.)

Whether we glory in good habits or fall prey to bad ones, only one thing can save us. Discipline. The D-word. Crawling forward on the revision reminds me, once again, how little discipline I have. However, I’ve made it this far. So, I’ll give myself credit for that.

All of you artists, writers, musicians, and photographers, you have more discipline than you think. You’re out there doing art day by day.

So, I hope you only see this blog only once, read it, and pat yourself on the back for being creative!