Steampunk + Kismet

Random things keep entering my sphere of reality lately that are peripherally steampunky. I think the universe is telling me it likes what I'm writing at the moment. ;-) Here are a couple of links that connect to the early 1900s as examples.

85-year-old steam engine ready to roll again in Lewis County
16 Edwardian Colour Photos That Will Make You Feel Like A Time Traveller

There are links to more photos off that second one that I could spend hours happily perusing. But, alas, my m/m steampunk novel isn't going to write itself. Although every now and then I hit a scene that seems to do just that. If only it were always so easy. ::sigh::

I got the first royalty report on Solo Flight recently. Its first month did not draw close to what Hounded by Love did in its first month, but I wasn’t expecting anything spectacular after my two-year hiatus from writing. It hadn’t been a planned break, and despite my best made plans, I can’t promise another extended disappearance isn’t in store in the near future. As a colleague of mine likes to say “It is what it is.”

I have a wonderful new role within the company I love. The benefits include doing a job that better suits my skills and personality, but there are negatives, such as giving up a significant amount of “down time.” Without this free time, my non-work hours seem shorter than ever.

No, I’m not complaining. Not really. I’m nearly finished with the first of a three-part story I’m writing with a friend. It’s a het-vampire series, and with a character from one of the first novels I wrote “back in the day.” I also have half of the next M/M story written, and another on the back burner based off of a special submission call I saw on the Loose Id loop.

I’ll make no promises on what will be the next one I submit for publishing, but completing one will be high on the priority list. As are the former Silver Publishing stories – I hope to get them reprinted sometime this year, either independently, or with a trusted publisher. I’ll let you know as soon as plans firm up.

In the meantime, dear Readers, thank you for those of you who’ve taken the chance on Solo Flight. I enjoyed writing it, and I hope that its untraditional theme resonates with some of you like it did for me. Perhaps I should write more on that. But later. Remind me.

May the forth be with you, dear Readers. Have a great month!

~Pia

That moment when...

That moment when your characters first meet and sparks fly.
That moment when they begin to reveal secrets that you, even as the author, didn't know they had.
That moment when you discover a third voice is necessary to tell the story.
That moment when your "short story" passes 31K with no signs of slowing down.

I love that moment. :-D

Building a Steampunk World

It feels like ages since I've done any proper world building. I did so much of it for several years running, and then poof! Nadda. Just last month, that began to change. I love to read steampunk stories. I attended Steamcon V last October. These days, it is my favourite costuming genre to peruse online and find excuses to build. For a couple of years now, I've wanted to write my own steampunk story in my own steampunk world. My first attempts were with potential co-authors, but for varying reasons we simply couldn't get on the same page. (No pun intended.) Then I tried for months to work on an idea of my own, but the damned thing wants to come out as a movie script and that is just not something I can deal with right now. Plus, it has too many ambiguities even for me, and I am a classic example of a pantser. Now, at last, I'm in a groove. A writing groove, a world-building groove, a steampunky groove.

I've built the framework of the world and the general mores of two societies. I've done research that was more than just a string of increasingly unrelated distractions. I've presented a number of hurdles to my characters, and they are working hard to leap each of them in their arduous journey towards their HEA.

Now, if you'll excuse me, the two fine gentlemen talking at me inside my head would really appreciate having their story written down. I oughtn't keep them waiting.

New Worlds, Old Worlds, and Things In Between

As a primarily fantasy author, it should go without saying that I love world-building. In case it needs to be stated, well, I just did. Right now, I'm working out a story that's not quite fantasy/sci-fi, but neither is it historical. Can you guess? It's steampunk. (Natch.) I'm finding the creation of an historical-yet-fantastical world particularly challenging. How much do you stick to reality vs. how much do you fabricate? How plausible does your "science" have to be? How detailed do you have to get? Is it better if you just stick to general, broad descriptions of the tech? How historically accurate do you need to be, or should you veer away from historical events completely? I've read a fair amount of steampunk at this point by a variety of authors, and each finds his or her own balance, some with more success than others. I'm convinced that a solid knowledge of events of the time is the cornerstone of good steampunk. After all, when you know the rules, you can then choose how and when to break them. Of course, that means I wish I remembered more of my local and national history classes. Time to hit the books!

A Tense Situation

I'm having a strange time with my latest manuscript. Some of you might remember Rhys and Isaac from my m/m/f short story Play Music, Play Magic that came out a while back in the anthology I Put a Spell on You. Well, I've been wondering about the boys' origin story since I wrote that, and now I'm starting to drag it out of them. (They're both a bit closed-mouthed on the  matter, and as I'm writing I'm finding out why. *eep!*) Here's the weird part: they're both talking to me in first person. Okay, that's only half of the weird. The other half, and if you'll pardon the mathematical impossibility, the bigger half, is that they're both telling me their story in present tense. WTF, right? I mean, this is a trend I've noticed lately in the YA books I've read. There's a delightful immediacy to first person, present tense that I think maybe appeals to the modern young adult reader. But for erotic romance it seems a little, well, bizarre. Am I simply old-fashioned and out of touch? Do readers dig that sort of thing? Do they even care what tense a book is written in? Does it all depend? I'd love to hear what you think, because it's tripping me out, frankly, but at the same time I don't want to get to the end and then have to edit it all over into past tense.

When Pantsers Plot

This is a topic that's been heavy on me of late. I am a pantser. Always have been. But this year for NaNoWriMo, I had a plot before I had anything else. I didn't know any characters' names or much about the world itself when I started. I only knew that it was sort of like the present, only not; and that there had to be a psychic working with the police. To me, this is utterly backwards. My usual m.o. is characters=>world=>plot. This whole plot=>world + characters thing is downright freaky and wrong. As a result, my writing this NaNo has been sporadic. I'm still reaching my daily goal averaged over the month, but it's coming as 3K or 5K one day, and <1K other days. Why? Simple. It's because I know how the book ends and as a result, I'm bored. Nothing is as fun when you know how it ends! I've never been one to skip to the end of a book to see how it comes out, so writing as if I had done just that is incredibly challenging.

I'm finding that the days when I'm getting the most verbiage written, the days that are at times almost easy, are the days when I'm writing character-based scenes that I didn't plan ahead in any way. I'm making new discoveries and digging into these characters whose names I didn't even know until less than a month ago. At the same time, they are giving me insight into the world they live in, which is incredibly helpful because, dude, what is this world, you know? I still don't even have a name for the city! It's downright nuts. They're letting me in on the technology, the legal structure, the society—because like I said, it's here and now, only it's not quite. It's a little bit left of here and a little more ahead of now.  Think Max Headroom, only less prophetic. (Seriously, that show got way too many things right, and they're not the good things.) What did they say on that show's credits? A week from next Sunday? Something like that.

So I keep plugging away. I have every expectation that I'll reach 50K before the end of the month. I suspect, though, that this manuscript will need more rewriting and editing than any of my previous NaNovels because I can already see where I'm missing including details that would make the world richer and more complete. But that's not what this month is about. This month is about getting words and story out onto the page. Finesse is not part of the equation. That's what December is for. Or January. Or February... Oh, hell. I'll see you in the spring. Maybe.

Collaboration

I really enjoy collaborative writing, although I don't get to do it very often these days. Whether that collaboration means crafting a story from beginning to end with a co-author or trading it back and forth round-robin style without a communal clue as to where it's going, I like it. I started doing it back in grade school, in fact. Of course, then it took the form of "I wrote myself into a corner. Here. Write me out of it" along with the handing over of pencil-scribble-covered pages. Usually, it worked. Fresh eyes and a fresh imagination can always see something new. And I would naturally return the favour upon request. That's what partners are for. Writing is so often a solo gig, and sometimes it can get lonely. Sure, all those voices in your head can keep you hopping, but sometimes they clam up, and sometimes you need a break from those fictional people. Having a co-author to turn to, whether it's a means of getting you unstuck when you can't figure out how to get out of the mess you've gotten your characters into, or it's someone to bounce ideas around with until you collectively decide what happens next, can be an invaluable thing. I'm hoping I have the chance to do a bit of co-writing soon. It's going to take an alignment of the stars to make it happen, I fear, but I've got this really big magnet I've been dying to try out, so I'll see if I can't do something about that and the laws of physics be damned.

It's Been an Unproductive Week :)

Wow - I can't believe it's been two weeks since my last update here but when I look at what's happened in my world just since July 1st, maybe I can.

Things were already a bit hectic with getting ready for a potluck + fireworks with friends but I'd gone out with Jo (my Keeper) to IKEA on the 2nd only to get a call while we were shopping that just about floored me.

My husband leads off with "Hon, I just got off the phone with Dad and they're at Harborview...."

Now Dad is his father (mine is dead) and Harborview is Seattles Level 1 trauma (adult and pediatric center). My heart fell to the floor because I instantly thought something had happened to his mother. She's the heart of his family and it would be horrible.

No - it was, in a way, worse. My 12 year old nephew had been involved in an accident on a farm runabout he and two friends were playing on. On the afternoon of July 1st, the runabout had flipped and he'd been pinned under the rollbar. 911 was called and he was taken asap to the local ER who thought he had maybe some cracked ribs but decided to do an MRI anyway.

Damned good thing they did.

He actually had 2 cracked vertebrae, huge amounts of internal bleeding, a collapsed lung, liver and kidney damage. They couldn't even promise his parents he would make it through the first emergency surgery but they had to stop the bleeding and wanted to transport him to Harborview.

They removed his spleen and he was airlifted to Harborview the very early morning of the 2nd. He ended up having another surgery Sunday morning to remove surgical packing, add in a bunch more drains, etc. It wasn't until after this surgery that he started to improve.

He stayed in the pediatric ICU until Wednesday, when he was able to be moved to lesser care. I don't think he's in a regular room still but is back to eating on his own and sitting up, etc. I'm trying hard to not drive my husband's family crazy with requests for updates (I'm making him call for one today!).

So, as you may guess, not a lot of writing has gone on due to playing family support.

I'm actively working on Deepest Night today though. I'd like to get it done and to my editor for holiday release though. As usual, it wants to be longer than I thought. Is it tending toward "sweet" romances that makes me want more background, more emotion, more insight? I may never know but I can't seem to change from my own style to a more gritty, more casual sex, story.

Anyway, writing is now happening again!

The Runner and The Writer

I’m a runner and I’m a writer. The two go hand in hand. If I’m not running, my writing suffers and when I don’t feel like writing, I’m usually the laziest beast on the planet, curled up on the sofa flinging colorful birds at little green pigs with smug smiles.

It is a beautiful balance of physical and mental: both activities cathartic, renewing, and freeing. When I’m writing I’m hunched over a laptop balanced on my lap while doing my best to find a comfortable position in my chair without disturbing the cat. Not ergonomically correct by any means. After a good session at the computer, like yesterday when I added 3100 words to a chapter of Summer Lust (because a book with “lust” in the title needs more smut), I stood to stretch and that wasn’t enough.

I’ve run in everything but a blizzard. I love a rainy August afternoon, and a cool, crisp spring morning. I’m not fond of thirty degrees, but I’ve done it, with Bag Balm on my lips to keep them from chapping, and ugly, torn sweats over my running tights to keep my thighs from freezing. Yesterday wasn’t cold. Yesterday, in shorts, a tank top, and an old Patriots cap, I hit the road. It wasn’t the best run training wise – in fact, it was downright awful – but it did accomplish one goal, and that was to get the body moving, the blood flowing, and the brain back into a creative gear. I had fried the Muse with that new scene, and I needed her recharged to better vilify the ex-boyfriend in today’s edits. I returned home sweaty and with a loose synopsis of a sequel crashing around in my head.

And that, dear Readers, is the beauty of combining running and writing. When I’m on the road, my thoughts are focused on stride, pacing, breathing, and cars zipping by at fifteen miles over the speed limit and uncomfortably close to that thin white line at my right. While I’m distracted by all of those things, my subconscious is busy coming up with new ways to distract me once I’m seated in front of the computer again.

Hey, Conscious Mind, what if we introduce a little chemical influence to the next story?
Hey, Conscious Mind, what if we redeem the Evil Bad Guy?

Meanwhile, Conscious Mind hadn’t really intended to write a sequel, but it’s happy to start writing again, letting the creativity flow, and molding it to the needs at hand, which happen to be the original story, now more vibrant and alive with thoughts of the future for the men involved. Without realizing it yesterday, during that run I dove a little deeper into the reason Cody tolerates Alan in his life during the span of Summer Lust, and now I’m ready to make the scene with the two of them together darker, stronger, and more eye-opening than before.

Of course, after spending time writing this blog post, I may just sneak out for a mile or two first.

As for Summer Lust, I do not have an official release date yet. I like my teasing early and often, but I promise to announce more details once I’ve been granted the go ahead to do so.

Happy Beltane, dear Readers!

Ciao,
Pia Veleno

My mind has been taken over by editing

I've done very little in the last few weeks but editing. There are really several stages in the creative process. There's the initial idea ("Wow, I have an IDEA!"), immediately followed by doubts ("I don't really know how to write this – there's too much research involved – I have too much work on my plate"), then comes the writing itself, which again has several stages of enthusiasm and fear. Then you edit and submit the text. Then the text comes back.

And if anybody thought that by then – with a contract in pocket – things would be easy, they are dead wrong. The real work is to get the manuscript from 90-95% good to 100%. Personally, I think that's 50% of the work with very little of the fun. There's no fun in editing, just relief it's over and I solved a problem.

My writing life has also slowed down considerably. Last year I had 10 releases. This year, two are firmly planned and another one is very likely. I expect to finish two more projects (mainly big rewrites of stuff that's done), but that's it.

But the truth is, I'm no good at short stories. Even my novellas come out at the long end, and most projects I started as novellas have turned into novels. So, yeah, the two books coming out this year are the gay sici-fi novel "Father of All Things" (title might yet change) with Carina Press in August, co-written with Rhianon Etzweiler, and the gay fantasy novel "Scorpion", which should be out from Dreamspinner in May.

So, currently I'm doing the last edit on "Father of all Things" (at this stage, it's only details, after a fairly comprehensive re-write in January/early February), and the edits for "Scorpion" will hit my desk in the next few weeks.

I've been editing so much all I really want to do at this stage is writing. There are plenty of ideas, three books that want to be written urgently, but edits come first.

The good news is – next time I'm posting here (in two weeks), I'll have a sneak preview of edited text from one of the releases.

A Question of Age

This is something I've been pondering while working on a new book and I'd love some opinions. As long as a character is 18, are you okay with reading about him in sexual situations? Or is that still too young? What's your threshold? 18? 19? 20? Older?

And does it change when the story is historical rather than contemporary? Is having a 17-year-old hero okay in a historical depending on the mores of the time period? Does the age of the other half of the pair come into play? Say, two 19-year-olds is okay, but a 19-year-old with a 30-year-old makes you uncomfortable?

Does the plot matter? Would a BDSM story with an 18-year-old be off-putting while a sweet, traditional romance be fine?

Or does age not matter at all as long as it's a compelling, well-written romance?

Bring on 2011!

It's resolution time again and I've picked a new one. This year, I resolve not to travel to North Korea. (My old resolution of not buying Norway was getting old, and since I'll more than likely be in Norway later this year, not buying it--or at least small bits of it offered up for my touristy pleasure--seems unlikely.)

I had a reasonably good 2010. I know a lot of people who didn't, and I certainly wish them a better year in 2011. In fact, I wish everyone a better 2011 than 2010, which, if you had a good 2010, would hopefully make this year pretty darned awesome. :) I finished 2010 off well, IMO, by resubmitting a manuscript to a new-to-me publisher, and by hosting a New Year's Eve pajama party. January 1 was spent in the usual fashion: sleeping in; watching a marathon on telly (in this case, Wonderfalls on DVD); and making sure there were black-eyed peas with dinner. (I'm not from the south, but my granddad was, and who am I to argue with the tasty tradition of black-eyed peas on New Year's Day for good luck?) All in all, it was a great weekend.

I'm about to depart on another January tradition later this week. That of going to play in the snow for a few days. (Snowshoe badminton! Woo-hoo!) Another thing I try to do while there is finish whatever unfinished manuscript is on the top of my list. It's another NaNoWriMo novel again this year. I find the change of scenery and atmosphere most helpful in recharging my creative batteries.

Here's wishing everyone a productive, successful, and above all else, HAPPY New Year!

Fluff 'n' Stuff

Another weekend is upon us, and I'm looking forward to getting some writing done for a change. I have two m/m works-in-progress at the moment, and my loyal beta reader has had a chance to take a look at both manuscripts. When I received her feedback last week or so, she had some interesting things to say--particularly about the overall tone of each story. One is clearly more lighthearted and, dare I say it, fluffy, while the other novella I'm working on is turning out to be a lot more serious and drama-oriented, and my beta reader feels that the drama-angle is too overplayed in male/male romance.

I personally don't feel that way, but admittedly, I haven't been reading as many m/m novels as I was a year or two ago (and only because I haven't had much time to indulge). I'm curious to see if my beta-reader's sentiments are shared by others, and if so, why? Are too many stories relying on the same plot devices over and over again? Or are readers wanting a break from drama-llama plotlines because we've all got enough wangst to deal with every day? Inquiring minds want to know!

New and newer

I had to sit down at a different computer to write this blog post. It doesn't happen often, but I have a novel in my head that is writing itself. On the one hand, uber-yay! It makes it a lot easier when all I have to do is type what the main character says. I've never had one who's quite this talkative before, either, but then she is 13 and so I guess shouldn't be surprised. That said, though, it means that if I boot up my laptop, I'm there for the duration, taking her dictation and not getting anything else done. Hence the writing this post on a different computer. I know, I know: Shut your whinging, Maia. You could have way worse problems than that. ;-P

In other news, my novella, False Dawn, releases on MONDAY 26 JULY! Whee! I will be partying over the weekend, starting Friday because all weekends should start on Friday, right? Too right! Of course, being on the other computer means I don't have my pretty pretty cover to upload for you, but you remember it, yes? Sun flare over a planet; lots of stars; and a hunky guy. Sure. You remember. Pop over to my blog, Just add coffee, Friday through Monday and comment to win a prize! There will be an excerpt (maybe two, we'll see) and a release day bonus scene and I don't know what else because I tend to host by the seat of my pants, rather like how I write. I hope to see you there!

Patience - I don't haz it

I see I'm not the only one with waiting on the brain. ::waves at Marty and yesterday's post::

Right now, though, I'm waiting on fewer people and fewer projects than I was a bare fortnight ago when last we met. I'm waiting on edits of my m/m space opera novella. (At least I know when to expect them.) And I'm waiting on my critique partner's beta of two of my manuscripts. (She promised the first of them when she gets back from the big RT Convention - yay for long fights and laptop batteries!) So, what am I doing while I'm waiting? Well, I've been waiting for so many things for so long that I wrote a sequel to my GLBT paranormal novel, recently revisited an unfinished f/f manuscript--for which I think I might have figured out how to solve The Big Conflict, so yay that--and have been beta-reading an enormous ms for a friend. Oh! And I've begun putting together notes for a third GLBT paranormal. (Gee, d'you think maybe I should submit the first one somewhere before I start the third? ::rolls eyes:: Yes, well, that falls under the waiting category again and I don't want to wait.) I think this goes beyond multi-tasking into the realms of brain-fry, and yet... I'm really excited to add more! I can't wait to dive into the m/m/f novel that my CP is beta-reading so that I can polish it for submission! Of course this means writing a synopsis, which (again, it seems, like Marty) I DO NOT ENJOY. I always sucked at book reports, and this is nothing but a grown-up book report. And then there will be the whole waiting-to-hear-from-the-publisher thing again. But even that cannot but momentarily dampen my enthusiasm. What does all this waiting teach me? It teaches me that I am not a patient person. I'm not. I'm really not. I'm totally hooked on instant gratification. And yet... Every job has its good and bad aspects, right? Even the jobs we love to do. And this is no different--except that, if I want to, I can do that job in my pajamas. ;) And so I pretend I am patient, and I wait, and I write more things while I'm waiting that I will just have to wait on again when they're written. It's a vicious cycle, but it's worth it.

Sniper Fixation

I've been writing again (yay) and one of the stories really speaking to me is called Hidden Depths: Secret Graves. It features a sniper and a forensic geologist as two of the main characters and I've been reading a LOT about snipers and guerrilla warfare lately. I think my Evil Day Job co-workers are a bit concerned by this. I already have a bit of a reputation for being...forceful. But at work I limit myself to a cricket bat - really.

Have you ever really looked at an author's reference bookshelves? Seriously...mine look like my house is occupied by someone who flits between romance, history, forensics, terrorism and knitting. It almost scares me. Where else will you find a book on heirloom lace knitting right next to the Sniper Field Manual which is also next to a book on the Difference Engine?

Thankfully it doesn't phase Mr. Maura too much. He does like to borrow my books but I think he's now somewhat immune to amazement at the books arriving on our doorstep and the muttering under my breath I do as I read them and take notes.

"I'm an author." At least it covers a lot of ground.

So here's a bit of the start of Hidden Depths: Secret Graves to enjoy. I've got about 3 chapters but I'm layering and polishing them before I dare show them to my publisher. This story is her fault, anyway.

HIDDEN DEPTHS: SECRET GRAVES
(c) 2010 Maura Anderson

Damn, he was too keyed up to sleep. Again.

Simon stretched, his back protesting the movement. The kinks from the last three-hour shift in the hide on the hard rooftop of the commercial building made him feel every day of his thirty-four years now that he didn’t have his mission to focus on. It was a good day, though—the hostages were safe. Mission accomplished.

Too bad the suspect offed himself instead of facing the music. That cowardly final act cheated his victims out any kind of closure, but it also meant Simon been unable to take the shot he’d been set up for most of the day. Hours spent watching the building’s entry through the scope and waiting for the suspect to show himself were for nothing. The craven bastard had shot himself inside the store instead and couldn’t even do that right—he was still technically alive when the hostages managed to open the door, though not for long.

Running his hands through his short-cropped hair, Simon rubbed his fingertips against his scalp. Even his skin felt way too tight. The war of control between adrenaline and the need for stillness always made him jumpy after a mission. Exhausted or not, he was wide awake.

Ah, hell, maybe he could tire himself out enough that he’d relax and be able to sleep. Marius already told him that he was going to be off rotation for a bit and stuck doing some babysitting for some scientist Marcus was trying to recruit. Why Marius thought putting him together with some civilian was a good idea, he’d never know.

With the M24 safely stowed in his weapons locker, Simon stripped off his concrete grey BDUs and tossed on the running gear he kept in his locker. MP3 in hand, he headed toward BTI’s fully tricked-out gym.

It was late enough that the gym should be empty or nearly so. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, to dissect the mission or even to just make small talk. The muscles in his jaw jumped and he made a conscious effort to relax it.

He felt raw and vulnerable, like his nerve-endings were exposed. Damn, he hated that feeling, that weakness, and it only seemed to be getting worse lately. Instead he’d told Marius he was fine, just tired.

His boss hadn’t called him a liar. Quite.

Marius knew him far too well to be fooled that easily.

Pushing open the door of the gym, Simon saw there was only one other person there. Not someone he knew and the other man was doing bicep curls in the free weight area.

Simon got himself set on the treadmill and started running, MP3 player blaring the classic rock that helped him focus on his steps and breathing and to not think too much. But this time he found himself examining the other man’s reflection in the mirrored wall across from the treadmills.

The man was big, maybe six-five or six-six and really muscular. His features made Simon think of Hawaii or the Pacific Islands, with long black hair he’d pulled back in a ponytail at the nape of his neck and deep caramel colored skin.

Running at an easy pace, Simon watched the other man trade barbells and saw an intricate pattern of lines below the hem of his shorts, covering his thighs to his knees. Was it a tattoo? The man looked and moved like a pagan warrior.

But he’d never even shown he’d noticed Simon’s presence.

Hanging Onto My Pants

Once again I owe a huge thank you to Maia, who—to my great fortune—precedes me in the blog rotation here. I had in mind the topic of "pantsing," but of course, I didn't write it down, so I was staring at my upcoming blog date with a bit of apprehension. I knew I had a topic, but I couldn't remember it.

Although it's gotten Maia into a bit of a jam, I am here to sing the praises of pantsing (which definitely sounds like something an erotic romance writer would be into.) I'm a writer because I love to read. I love the magical page-by-page discovery of a story in my head. Once the story is told, it's a different kind of magic. That's not saying I don't love rereading old favorites, but that first time thrill is gone. That's one reason I can't be a plotter. If I know all the details of how it's going to turn out, I get bored, even with myself. (I know, hard to believe.) The mystery is gone. One of my excellent critique partners has her entire story plotted out on scene cards. She can pull up any scene from her book and write it in any order. I am awed by her ability even as it makes me shudder in horror at the thought of doing it myself.

For me, a romance begins and ends with the characters. The books I've written that had more to do with what than with who are still sitting on my hard drive, and rightly so, because I let the plot outshine the people. I've learned to start with the people, throw them into a situation and let them tell me the story. The characters take on lives of their own, the rat bastards, often dragging me down plot threads I never saw coming or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, but that's what keeps me turning (um, churning out) pages. Because I'm lost in their story as they tell it to me.

As Maia said, it can be frustrating. Sometimes these independent little brain children paint themselves into a corner, or worse yet shut up and refuse to tell you the rest of the story. I saw that someone suggested to Maia that violence might force her characters to speech. I'm all for it. When they pull that crap with me, I go back to who they are, remember what it is they fear most, and light a fire under their recalcitrant little butts. It may not work right away, but that's usually because I haven't dug through all their layers of protection to find out what will really hurt the most.

So while I heartily endorse flying by the seat of your pants, (the fact that I'm sniggering at "seat of your pants" only shows that one of my college-aged characters from my current work in progress is ready to come out and play), it's not for everyone. It takes a willingness to relinquish some of your god-like control over the world and people you've created. It takes a willingness to dig deep inside your characters and make them hurt. And since it's your world and they're your brain children, I guess you have to be willing to hurt a little too. But I'll take that over the scary empty space inside when there's nothing new to discover. I'm K.A., I'm a pantser, and as Henry James said, "The rest is the madness of art."

An unusual position

I hope I don't disappoint anyone when I clarify that I don't mean an unusual sexual position. ;-) The position I mean is one that we pantsers don't find ourselves in so often: that of knowing exactly where the story we're writing needs to go. That's the nature of a pantser, right? We don't know where we're going until we get there. Sure, we can guess at some stops to make along the way, or we know approximately what the destination is, but the excitement is in the journey of discovery. (Of course, this is why I've already had to go back through the current manuscript twice to tweak it to fit what happens later, but that's beside the point.) Only now here I am with a very clear laundry list of What Must Happen, and I'm stumped how to get there. It doesn't help that the chattiest character has suddenly clammed up, and it's his backstory I need to sort out. But that doesn't explain the rest of the characters all shutting up at the same time. I thought maybe that meant I was on the wrong track after all, but if that's the case, I need to build an entire new railroad, and I just don't think that's necessary. So you'll excuse the short post today, I hope, because I need to get back to work prying some words out of people's mouths and getting them onto the page.

Wish me luck. They're a tough crowd.

Land of the Brave

Don't quote me on this but I believe that every writer has that sub-genre (or genre in full) that they want to write in. For one reason or another though, they don't. Maybe because its a risk.

Because that's the big deal and I think the attraction of it all: risk. You risk your name with each story you put out. Not to say that one bad story will destroy your credibility as a reliable storyteller. But going outside the lines is sometimes a little daunting. One of the pleasures of writing GLBTQ fiction is that there are so many wide open areas to wander through.

With respect, obviously.

But believe it or not, I'm not here to discuss the varied ways to write about the GLBTQ community (another post, another day). I'm actually going to talk about mysteries and why I really want to write one (and why I haven't yet).

My biggest thing with mysteries is figuring it out. I'm constantly impressed by folks like Josh Lanyon who put together these intricate plots, lush with clues and actual investigating. I enjoy JD Robb's In Death series as well and despite the fact that the villians have much of the same personality flaws behind their murder, it's still awesome watching Eve and Roarke figure out whodunnit.

Naked in Death, the first book, still awes me. The Adrien English series (which is over, omgosh, and I still need to get DOAPK and Dark Tide! Eee!) is a full melee of detective work. James Buchanan's Taking the Odds series is stuffed with cops doing their cop thing and doing it well.

Cops, I might never be able to do as anything but side characters and I can accept that. But I want a mystery, y'all. I've just got to figure out the whys and whats and hows behind it. The clues that lead to this, making you backtrack to that and jump to that waaaaayyy over there! But here's where the risk comes in.

I'm not a mystery writer. I'm excellent (and this isn't tooting my own horn, this is a fact I've learned) at contemporary romance. The simplicity yet complex mayhem of a relationship - be it same sex or not - makes a kind of lyrical sense to me. This is what I know how to put together, from the first meeting to the second to the sex to the fight to the HFN.

Mysteries baffle me. Yet, I want to do it. That's my super secret desire. I took the first tentative step (of sorts) with Lost. However, you knew from the beginning what that one was about and it was more about the relationship. As a romance author, I will always center more on the people than the external plot. Love's about the lovers not the circumstances. The circumstances affect them though and that's what makes the rest of the story.

I haven't written a full mystery yet because I'm not sure how. I've figured by now that it's a process that I'll just have to start. One bad story isn't going to mess me up but hovering and fretting about what if it sucks like hell? will definitely keep me from learning anything. If I love it, I should try it. And maybe it will suck. Horribly. Then I'm sure y'all will tell me.

In a way, the latest kick in the ass about this is K.A. Mitchell. On Twitter ( I think it was on Twitter, possibly LJ) she mentioned that mysteries aren't her usual style. The mystery story (Chasing Smoke - LOVE that book, btw) is a definite departure from say, Collision Course. But she wanted to do it, she did it and you know what? I envy that. I mean, she even did a historical (An Improper Holiday)!

It's all about risk. But then, taking chances is what creativity is all about. So I'm going to take a chance and go back to my WiP and...well, I can't give everything away, now can I?