Stuck

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I’m stuck.

I can’t figure out what to write next. No wait, that’s wrong. I can’t figure out HOW to write what’s next.

The weird thing is that it’s not writer’s block. I’ve got several great sections just begging to get written, I’ve got an insane goal of finishing the (rickety) first draft by Halloween, my inner zombie is ready to go, but by golly, I haven’t a clue about how to properly segue into the next scene.

Even my earlier Khumbu ice fall ladder method is failing me this morning.

The only thing I can think to do is type PLACEHOLDER and move on to the next scene.

Danger, Will Robinson! Unexpected novel twist up ahead

There’s a reason why I like partially outlining and then leaving things to chance because when I do, I inevitably strike creative gold.

This week is proving to be no exception. After digging up bones all last week (and adding some rather grotesque imagery courtesy of all those CSI episodes) I happily assumed this week would continue on the same route.

That’s right. I thought my main character was simply going to head into the local diner for some pie and coffee before leaping once more into the fray of researching just why it is bones are showing up on her property.

Not so. Didn’t happen.

Instead, one of my minor characters pitched a fit right in the middle of the diner and got kicked out. My main character slinks off shortly after because the pitched fit involved the bones found on the property. Better to make a quiet exit, she thinks. Better to employ the old ‘discretion is the better part of valor’ tactic before anything else explodes.

So now the main character is walking home when out of nowhere, the minor character sneaks out of the shadows to warn her that maybe the bones have something to do with it, maybe not, but there’s more than what meets the eye with that old house.

Sounds like a typical segue, right?

Ok, I’ll give you that but only up to a point because what this character is talking about is the perfect red herring to throw my readers off the trail. Something I could’ve never planned if I’d rigidly outlined my whole story.

But I’ll know for sure by the end of the week.

Digging up bones

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

It’s gonna be a great noveling week!

Why? Because I can finally start digging up bones. Gosh, I’m so excited! Or as one of my friends used to say when she couldn’t wait for a particularly cool hiking trip; “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

But wait, there’s more.

Because once all the bones are exhumed and the forensic anthropologist gets done figuring them all out, I get to indulge my inner research nerd. My main character gets to sift through dusty old libraries, check out Ancestry.com, and ultimately decide whether she wants to live in a town having such a horrid history.

Even better, she’ll have a cool sidekick to help her figure things out. Hint: he’s a retired archeologist turned local historian.

And just for the record, let me state again that my novel is not horror–it’s a historical murder mystery.

So to kick things off and to start getting in the mood for Halloween, I thought I’d share some of the funny epitaphs out there in old New England cemeteries.

Funny Bones: http://wp.me/p6pQ0-2D

More Funny Bones: http://wp.me/p6pQ0-3d

You know, the Puritans don’t necessarily have the best reputation in this country but after reading these, you have to admit their sense of humor was a real scream.

No pun intended.

My muse is a zombie

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Yesterday started off so innocently.

I sat down at my desk with the perfectly blended cup of coffee–the kind that only happens every few weeks when the coffee gods finally deign to answer my prayerful genuflections in front of the French press–and began to write.

I wrote and wrote and wrote. I wrote so much I could barely manage time for lunch and bathroom breaks because the words poured from my brain and down into my fingertips like an out-of-control firehose.

What an amazing feeling–at least until I realized what was really happening.

My muse is a zombie.

When he/she/it gets on a roll, there’s no stopping until the blood lust is fed. Or in this case, satiation is achieved only after the words finally come to a dripping halt. I finished up my day with over 4,500 well-structured words that, in the cold light of morning, still stand.

Let’s see, word count and decent structure?

Hmm.

Maybe I shouldn’t whine about feeling like a truck ran me over. Maybe this zombie muse has got something going on.

Sure, he/she/it isn’t necessarily the prettiest thing to have around what with the ripped flesh, gaping chest wounds and ratty, smelly clothes but hey, in a world that thinks it’s better to look good than to be good, I’ll take the being good.

Hey zombie muse! Wanna come help me write again today?

Monday morning inspiration

I’m gonna have that theme song running through my head the rest of the day but you know, it’s worth it.

Writing helps #2, aka a swift smack upside the head

I follow several writers’ blogs that constantly offer useful, practical and inspirational advice. Today, I saw a post from Seth Godin that nicely summed up the truth about pursuing a dream.

Quote:

It would be great to be picked, to win the random lottery, to have a dream come true.   But when we rely on a wish to get where we want to go, we often sacrifice the effort that might make it more likely that we get what we actually need. Waiting for the prince to show up is a waste of valuable time, and the waiting distracts us from and devalues the hard work we might be doing instead.”  

Thanks for the reality check, Seth.

Gonna get back to work now–there’s a novel waiting in the wings.

Naming your characters

Apparently, a rose by any other name smells just as sweet.

Really? What if a rose was called something else, like skunk cabbage?

Skunk cabbages are a particular type of foul greenery that, “when leaves are bruised or crushed, the plant releases a strong odor which smells like rotten meat. This smell attracts insects.“

Nope, I want my roses to stay roses.

But isn’t that point? When we name our characters, we need to choose something that will stand out, be memorable in our readers minds. It’s really no different from naming your children. You want something unique, individualistic, but not too strange lest he (or she) get tormented mercilessly through middle school and high school.

Frankly, I think the name’s gotta fit the book. For example, for a romance, I’d choose something like Sir Percival Cabot Montmorency III for the swashbuckling hero and Lady Penelope Lucinda Cartwright (of the heaving bosom) for the plucky heroine.

Since I’m writing more of a plain spoken sort of mystery, my choices are a little more constrained. Unfortunately, this translates to my main character experiencing several identity crises over the past few weeks because I keep bouncing between two monikers. Hmm, X has more oomph but then again, Y sounds like it’s got roots.

Thankfully, I think I’ve finally settled on something that should wear well in the wash. It may not have the immediate grittiness of Jack Reacher, the polished tinge of Gabriel Allon or the superbabe punch of Charlie Fox, but it works.

How have you named your characters?