Write that Romance!

Honorable Mention from ReadingWriters.com--For Me? Yay!

2008-12-14T11:06:00.005-05:00

I have GOT to start reading my email more regularly! I just got off the phone with a great pal and found out that I'd gotten an Honorable Mention over at ReadingWriters.com for their Crime Scene contest ("NHI")--Woo-hooo!

If you aren't familiar with their site--check it out: professional writers and editors willing to work for you at reasonable rates.

So, anyhow--I'm totally thrilled (they'll post an excerpt on their site probably this next week). Now, if I can just land popular vote at TextNovel.com for "13 to Life"(an interactive YA fantasy w.i.p.) and "Of Storms, Seas and Pirates"--What? You didn't know you should be voting for me? Right now? Well, I don't hold a grudge (often ;-), so go on now--Read for free and VOTE FOR ME!

Have fun, gang!
~Saoirse

Asking for Votes: Read for Free, Vote for Me!

2008-12-14T10:02:00.004-05:00

So, maybe it's true. If you're writing--really writing--maybe you can't be blogging. Because since my last post here, I've been writing. Like crazy. I currently have 2 w.i.p. at TextNovel.com --the "Of Storms, Seas and Pirates" which deals with pirate Anne Bonny's early years in a magical colonial America and, more recently, "13 to Life" (a YA werewolf tale).

Both are in the top five of the "Most Popular Stories" list. "13 to Life" is at #5 and "Of Storms, Seas and Pirates" is at #2. Right now, the contest says that to win an entry should have 20 chapters (one spot mentions 200 pages) and (obviously) be popular. But the contest rules also say that the rules can be changed at any time...The contest closes on December 31. So there's time for everything to be swapped around... Enough time for me to get a big old ulcer wondering what could change, too. ;-)

So--please, please, please, go vote for "13 to Life" and "Of Storms, Seas and Pirates." If you subscribe to one or both (I'll love you even more ;-) and my points will go up even higher. I'm just worried that if this thing goes to JUST the popular vote I'll be out of the running. I've never been that popular gal (ugh--middle school sucked ;-) and I haven't spent a gob of time (okay, I've spent like no time) on networking, so popular vote is tough for me.

If you're curious as to which story I'd like to win (of mine, of course) I have to admit it's "13 to Life." I know pretty much where it's going, but I'm writing it very organically and using polls to let readers help vote on upcoming action. It's also pretty timely, considering the Stephenie Meyer's Twilight stuff (anything Anne Bonny could be released later and not suffer in numbers). So, it's interactive, it's fun (a light read really) and filled with teen angst. Oh yeah--it also has at least one werewolf...Come read and check out the "cover" graphic in the preface.

Please, please vote and subscribe--
~Saoirse

Spoiled Rotten and Still Writing

2008-11-23T21:57:00.003-05:00

I just recently returned from an amazing journey into America's Midwest to visit UWSP. It was a fabulous trip to see the premiere of a film my art (yes, my art under my original name--nothing to do with my writing) was used in. Picture it--a sold out theatre/auditorium--a live orchestra accompanying the film playing the music of the talented and prolific composer Charlie Barnett, and pirates! Oh, yes--PIRATES!

I was spoiled there--treated wonderfully. :-) But it was that project that took me away from here for so long (but oh--SO worth it). Now I'm back. I'm inspired (and a touch overwhelmed with hosting the fam for the holiday) and back to writing Of Storms, Seas and Pirates-- my TextNovel.

But now I want to blast through the character building essentials and the initial action and get right to the parts filled with piratical goodness (and badness ;-). But I have to hold the reins in and build the story the way it needs to be built. Strongly and with reason and character motivation. I keep reminding myself that this is an exercise for me at TextNovel.com . The novel I write there, step by step, is only the skeletal structure of a richer read that will develop as this gets fleshed out in editing and rewrites.

So the pirates? All that rollicking raiding and pillaging in the Caribbean? It'll come. :-)

Yay! I mean--Arrr!
~Saoirse

RootClip.com as a Writing Prompt Tool

2008-09-29T07:48:00.005-04:00

*First things first--please vote for my story "Of Storms, Seas and Pirates" at TextNovel.com. Right now it's on the main page, but maintaining a popular vote is tricky... Your help would be appreciated. :-)

Okay, so I'm working on a couple of Elance projects right now--can't complain because it's paying the bills--WELL. :-)

But this weekend I was utterly absorbed by a new (new to me, at least) website called RootClip.com . My hubby's got a student of his in a film making competition there. The basic gist of the site is this--the folks at RootClip film an opening clip of a short movie. They leave a cliffhanger. Then the madness ensues as would-be film makers from across the country film and submit the next "chapter." Voting is done (popular vote and then the judges vote) and the winner of each chapter is announced. Winning one of the chapters enables the film maker to participate in the final chapter's segment. The winner of the final chapter gets some great prizes.

As a writer speaking to writers and readers--go to RootClip.com and check out what they do. It will open your mind to possibilities, techniques and a few terms you may not have known. If you want to get the most out of it without directly competing, use the opening clips (and even subsequent clips) as writing prompts for you to journal out. Then, after you've written yours, check out the subsequent clip. Did you come up with something similar or a totally different direction?

That's it for me for now--need to wake the boy and feed him...
Keep Writing!
~Saoirse

Woo-Hoo! On the Main Page of TextNovel.com!

2008-09-28T22:16:00.003-04:00

Woo-hoo! Yippee! My story--"Of Storms, Seas and Pirates"--just made it on to the main page--home page of TextNovel.com . I'm hoping this will stir up a little more interest in that particular w.i.p. of mine.

"Of Storms, Seas and Pirates" is based on the earlier years of eventual pirate Anne Bonny's life and set in a sort of fantasy/folk magic rich early colonial America. I've had a love of the Anne Bonny story for about a year or so now (been curious about all things female-pirate-related for close to two decades, thanks to the novel "Grania"). Getting to write my interpretation of her early years (because I believe heroes and villains aren't born, they're made--yes, yes, I'm a nurture, not just nature sort of gal) is a great deal of fun!

Granted, there aren't gazillions of readers anxiously perusing my progressing story--TextNovel.com is still quite young, but there are some folks taking a peek. And yes, I did finally break and contact TextNovel.com members with the TextNovel.com networking option so they'd think about taking a look. BUT. If there's one thing I'm coming to realize more and more in life it's the unfortunate fact that often it's not what you know, but whom. So, I'm networking. Ugh. I'm not sure I'm socially motivated enough to really make the system work for me. But I'll try nearly everything once. Nearly everything (I have my standards, you know ;-).

So, once again I'll suggest that any of you dragging yourselves past my little blog should stop over at TextNovel.com. Make an account. Start your story. Maybe win $1,000 and a publishing contract. But if you don't win the prize, at least check out the site. It's a great idea and there are good people making it work so the rest of us can play.

Anyhow--go to TextNovel.com. Vote for me! ;-)
Oh yeah...Take care and Keep Writing! :-)
~Saoirse

Something to Read

2008-08-28T08:59:00.002-04:00

Of course I'm still suggesting you read the works posted at TextNovel.com, but here's something to read that will help your writing and lift your spirits. Check out the ezine "The Verb" at ReadingWriters.com .

Ok, I've got work to do... Still dealing with a case of double conjunctivitis, too (yes, when I do something, I do it in a BIG way :p). We're on medicine #2 as the first had no impact at all (what fun!).

Anyhow--hope things are better for all of you!
Saoirse

Re-Kindle Your Love of Reading

2008-08-17T18:45:00.003-04:00

So I was listening to the Sunday stock report this morning (yes, I listen to that sort of stuff as well as a wide variety of music) and they mentioned that Amazon.com 's stock is up and a nice chunk of that is due to sales of the Kindle (I think they said 6 million, but I was Elancing).

What the heck's a Kindle and why should I care? A Kindle is a "wireless reading device." My husband summarized--"It's an iPod for books." From what I can tell, he's said it, in a nutshell. Essentially, Amazon ran with the idea of having a handheld device that allows you to read on a monochrome screen (for high contrast, of course). You can connect (to their bookstore) anytime for free! If you first pay $360 for the privilege of owning this particular device ;-).

Chatting with the venerable Deb Blake ;-) today, she pointed out that she'd prefer books. And I wondered... How many of us love the feel and scent and visual impact of a book over the convenience of uploading and downloading? It's something I've thought about before--I even like the sound of pages when I ruffle them. Maybe I'd enjoy the Kindle, but anything smaller than my laptop usually falls into the nebulous folds and pockets of my purse or bag--seldom to emerge in the same condition (a hazard of having a curious 4 year old ;-).

So, what would it take for you to try a Kindle? I'll try darn near anything once, if provided with the appropriate and necessary tools (in this case, the Kindle). But short of that, I'm a paper page turner. Yes, it's not the greenest thing about me, but my novels don't require batteries and I don't need to read a manual to read them.

Besides, there's always TextNovel... :-)

So, anyone out there have a Kindle and want to tell me about it?
~Saoirse

Just for Fun...

2008-08-16T17:17:00.005-04:00

Okay, sometimes my brain becomes oatmeal, but I enjoy(envy ;-) the creativity of others especially in those moments. So here are a few cute links authors should check out--

When you're searching for an agent and get discouraged, go here.

When you've hit a moment of utter disillusionment with the writing and publishing process, go here.

When you're imaging what you might do when you hit the big time as an author, go here.

Need cute advise on revising? Try this one. Yep, I think I'm officially a Jackson Pearce fan. Ah, well.

It's great to find such cute and clever stuff--kudos to the creators!

~Saoirse

Plugging Along on TextNovel.com

2008-08-14T10:26:00.003-04:00

More and more folks are joining TextNovel.com --get over there and prowl through the virtual pages! Start reading or writing on your cell phone --TextNovel.com is free (at least from the TextNovel side--I guess the rest depends on your phone's service).

I'm still working on my "Of Storms, Seas and Pirates" cell phone novel (and one called "Phonies") over at TextNovel.com, but my time is being eaten away by visiting in-laws (who I wouldn't trade for the world), moving more worldly possessions (which I'm finding more and more I don't really need) from our old place to the new one, helping move in the owner at the old place (because he believes we have more time than we ever do) and Elance. Ah, Elance (I think my head's gonna' explode while working my way through one job with a foreign publishing house).

I haven't been doing the prompts I want to, and even when I'm trying to "come down" after a long day I'm getting assaulted by ideas for new novels. I appreciate each one, but MAN! I need to be able to finish what I've started. And, if all holds true, it looks like two more Elance jobs (one editing, one illustrating) will head my way before summer's end. I know I should be grateful. I AM grateful. But I'm also overwhelmed with work-related writing and it's squeezing out my creative writing. Ugh.

I hope things are going better for all of you!
Saoirse

Manic Monday: Bibliophobia

2008-08-11T08:53:00.004-04:00

If it's Manic Monday (and boy, buddy, is it--the in-laws are coming! ;-) then we need a fresh mania or phobia to make us think... Today's phobia is Bibliophobia.

Simply put, bibliophobia is a fear of books. Now this doesn't strike me as a common ailment, although who knows when you consider an Internet audience (as the Internet is technically book-free)? So, let's consider two characters, one with biliophobia...

Martin was a well-bred man, the first son of a prominent family. There was money and power in his lineage, Susan's mother had assured. And virility. Yes, her mother had pointed out, naming a long list of his sibling, Martin came from quite a line.

Susan cared very little about Martin's attributes. At this stage in her life a match was a necessity as she teetered on the edge of spinsterhood. Had she not also been one of a line, she might not have cared so much. But there were three siblings set to inherit ahead of her and she had two choices--the convent or Martin.

Her siblings had all made fair matches for themselves, but Susan had not been so fortunate. "Too quick to speak her mind." "Too fast to point out my mistakes." "Too fascinated by research." There had been a list of complaints longer than Martin's list of siblings.

And, having never put much faith into organized religion, Susan hoped Martin would be the better choice.

"He's here, lady," the maid bobbed in and out.

A tall, slender man stepped into the room, surveying the place like he already had a claim to its contents. Dark and handsome with a dangerous air that Susan immediately found distasteful, he strode forward. Ah yes, Susan recalled. He had hunted lions in darkest Africa. He had a predatory nature etched in his every glance and move.

Susan stood and closed the book she had been reading.

Martin shrieked, eyes wide.

"Well, I admit it is not Shakespeare," she said tersely, waving the book, "But every book has its merit."

Martin danced backward on quick feet. "Keep it away," he choked, eyes locked on the embossed cover.

"For Heaven's sake. It is merely a collection of John Locke's essays." She paused, noticing how his face drained of all color. "What's this, then? Are you frightened of this book?"

"All--books..." he scuttled backwards , knocking into the wall.

"Dear me," she whispered, falling back onto the loveseat. "I think I am destined for the convent after all..."

Ok, your turn--what might happen if someone had bibliophobia (other than the fact they'd never have an overdue book fine...)?

Always curious...
~Saoirse

3 Word Wednesday: Gamble, Omitted, Temporary

2008-07-30T23:35:00.003-04:00

Ok, ok--so I did my 3 Word Wednesday prompt, but I did it as part of my TextNovel on TextNovel.com. I actually used mine in the 3rd section of my "Of Storms, Seas, and Pirates" (a somewhat more magical interpretation of pirate Anne Bonny's early life).

I think this will successfully link you to the right section--you can vote on the TextNovel thus far, but I don't think you can truly comment there (from what I understand). Hmm.
http://textnovel.com/stories_list_detail.php?story_id=113&_p=3

Maybe folks'll comment here, maybe it's too awkward to do the reading and then come back to comment... Guess we'll see. ;-)

Anyhow, the previous formatting is fixed and things are looking readable. Yeah! :-)

~Saoirse

Read It and Weep ;-)

2008-07-29T00:03:00.004-04:00

Okay, okay, so I'm experiencing a tiny bit of frustration with the formatting of my text through TextNovel.com. It may simply be because I'm not actually texting in my text (I can't believe I just typed that phrase and my computer didn't explode ;-). I can't text in my text. I'm Pennsylvania Dutch.

What the heck does that have to do with anything, you may well wonder! We tend to have short, thick fingers. Hmm. Pretty often we have short, thick waists, too, come to think of it. So we are doubly damned in this era of high fashion models and text-messaging ;-). Besides the fact I live out (waaay out) in the countryside and must drive about 5 miles to get a cell signal. So, old-fashioned me, I'm typing my text in from my laptop ;-). For some reason the formatting doesn't stick (I've contacted tech support and I'm sure they'll educate me appropriately :-). But until they can help me out, I have huge single paragraphs that run the length of entire chapters.

Don't get me wrong--it's still readable, but it looks daunting. I can just imagine ADHD readers' heads exploding when they glimpse my first chapter (maybe that's just the certified teacher in me, though). I noticed some of the other writers actually have theirs looking like you could read it on a cell phone--I wonder if they texted (yikes--is that proper conjugation?) their text in from a cell phone.

So, I'm just waiting to see what I need to do to make my stuff more readable before I post too much more. I'm liking my story thus far, I'm liking the TextNovel.com site (other than this little snare) and their founder. I haven't chatted with any of the other board members, but I'm sure they're decent, too :-).

Maybe tomorrow after I drop my kid off at his summer program I'll try seeing if I can access the site on my cell phone. I'm curious to see what it looks like on the cell phone screen, too.

Once I'm happier with the look of it, I'll link so you can pop right over to my story (because of course you will :-). Until then I'm afraid you're eyes will bleed if my chapters are too long. Perhaps I need to study the venue a bit more...

Anyhow--I'm having fun with writing my TextNovel--still learning the ropes!

Keep writing (and reading)!
~Saoirse

Trying TextNovel.com

2008-07-26T22:07:00.003-04:00

Yep, so I’m going to give it a go and try the whole TextNovel.com thing.

Here are my reasons:

1.) You can’t read much on a cell phone screen, so chapters and sections should (I think) be pretty short. My brain seems to work best during short bouts of lucidity, so woo-hoo! ;-)

2.) Short amounts of reading mean short amounts of writing and that’s all I can squeeze in with my hectic schedule.

3.) I’ve toyed with the idea that most novel concepts I’ve devised can be reworked for multiple audiences and different, distinct tones and levels of maturity. For example, the Tam Lin stories are really quite adult in nature but can be toned-down significantly if one just thinks about it. So it’s not like I’ll necessarily lose anything by participating in TextNovel.com (especially as they’ve tweaked out their contract to be much more author-friendly).

4.) I could actually rally some interest in my writing by making it available in a different venue. Publishers do like to know you at least have people’s interest—eh, that’s a double-edged sword, depending on whom you talk to.

5.) I could work on a set of actual deadlines—I think it might be cool to have a new section or chapter available at a regular time each day or week. I need deadlines, by the way. ;-)

6.) I want to try out some new and funky publishing venue. Cell phone novels may just be it—who knows?

7.) And they're running a contest--I'm a sucker for contests!

So—now that TextNovel.com's got a new and friendlier contract—anyone else gonna’ give it a try?

Seriously curious,
Saoirse

Cellphone Novel SiteTextNovel.com Redeeming Itself?

2008-07-25T11:04:00.004-04:00

You may recall my relatively recent (well, relatively recent when you consider my sudden lack of internet, a couple power outages and the time that moving a household and fulfilling Elance obligations require ;-) posts (perhaps even rants) about TextNovel.com, the beta cellphone novel site for United States citizens.

At the time of my last posting, the contract language of TextNovel.com was definitely "wanting." It was waaay heavy on the publisher's rights to anything you might post/publish on the site and could have really messed up what starry-eyed authors may have hoped for with their early publishing experiences.

HOWEVER...

That post got founder, Stan Soper's, attention. He was kind enough (and humble enough) to realize the clause he'd figured was pretty standard was actually not necessarily fair to would-be writers. He suggested (via comments) an alternate clause he could replace the previous one with.

Unfortunately it was between the time of my post and his posts that my internet came to a squealing (like an angry piglet) halt. I had no idea Stan had posted his comments and only realized and replied (briefly) last night.

I hopped over to his site just a few minutes ago to see if the contract language had indeed changed. It has. Here's the new clause:

2. Content: Textnovel does not acquire ownership of the content you publish on the Site, unless you win the Textnovel contest (and in that case, only the rights specified in the Contest Rules and in any publication agreement you sign). When you publish content on the Site, you continue to retain all ownership to the content, subject to the license terms described herein.

* You retain all rights to any content you submit to Textnovel, except for whatever rights you grant if you are the winner of the Textnovel Contest, pursuant to the Contest Rules (and you will have the chance to approve the grant of those rights at the time you choose to accept the prize). However, you understand that Textnovel will have the right to display your "public" works to its readers.

* You represent that you are the sole and exclusive creator of any content you submit, or have a valid license or agreement to post the content, and have the authority to grant the foregoing license. You represent that the content you provide to Textnovel does not contain any viruses, Trojan horses, worms, time bombs, or other computer programming routines that are intended to damage, detrimentally interfere with, surreptitiously intercept, or expropriate any system, data, or personal information in or connected to Textnovel.

Now THAT's a heck of a lot better! I must congratulate Mr. Soper on his willingness to revisit and revise contract language which might frighten off potential authors.

So, Saoirse, (you may be asking yourself ;-) How do you feel about TextNovel.com now?

I feel MUCH better about TextNovel.com. Let's be frank (when aren't we? ;-) --It has a ton of potential, especially for genres attracting young and tech-savvy audiences (in my mind that's the YA market, Fantasy, Science Fiction and Romance, initially) .

Will we ever see gobs of Westerns and memoirs as cellphone novels? Maybe someday... My Dad consumes Westerns faster than I can down good coffee, but he still gets stumped by his cellphone ("the electronic tether," as he jokingly calls it). I think if TextNovel gets the press it needs it can be a great start for writers--maybe even their chosen venue, in time.

If TextNovel were my cellphone novel site what would I be doing next? I'd find some writers to hit any and all blogs, ezines, mags, etc. on TextNovel's behalf as fast and as hard as possible (while still being pertinent and not pesky). I'd get a MySpace and Facebook account for TextNovel. I'd do press releases like crazy. Any news agency that covered the cellphone novel craze in Asia would be getting a press release from me, too. I'd look up any tech-related conventions or literary-type events that a TextNovel board member can get to and at least get fliers on tables or in bags, if not set up a table/booth (I could even suggest a few of these, personally). I'd get an ad on the NaNoWriMo site in hopes of snagging great stories at the end of this year's November run. I'd offer a few widgets so folks participating in TextNovel can post a visual link to their story from their blog or site. A couple of well-placed ads in mags like Writer's Digest and The Writer... But it all has to be done like yesterday because of the lag time faced by regular print magazines.

I really do wish TextNovel the best--there is some cool potential for it. Will I personally submit a book? I'm considering it again, thanks to Stan Soper. :-)

Thanks, Stan! Much luck! :-)
Saoirse

No Internet

2008-07-17T20:51:00.001-04:00

Sorry--no net right now--driving 20 minutes each way to get to a connection--blogging not priority right now, Elance must be.

Back as soon as I can be!

Keep writing!
Saoirse

3WW: Indifferent, Pour, Reason

2008-07-02T07:57:00.002-04:00

This week's 3 Word Wednesday list is: indifferent, pour and reason. I'm still thinking about this one for here, but I have an idea for my Dreams in Red: Anne Bonny site...

I'll be back...

;-)
Saoirse

The Power of Great References... Antiquarian Book Fair in Cooperstown

2008-06-29T09:51:00.004-04:00

There are plenty of stories and books that can be written without using any reference books.

The adage "Write what you know," may help remind you of how this can be done. If you follow that advice strictly you'll wind up writing something only about your own life and direct experiences, quite possibly never needing a reference book (unless you spend time examining the eras in which you lived and some of the people and motivations around you ;-). But there are books that you can write requiring no references.

I just don't have much of an interest in writing books of that sort. So my library of reference books is building. Yesterday two references were added. One was free (a catalog of medieval and Renaissance style clothing and accouterments by Museum Replicas) and will be nice as a visual touchstone with Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills.

The other was a book (that will help me with Dreams in Red) from 1926 that I found in the 14th annual Antiquarian Book Fair in Cooperstown, NY. My father actually bought it for me, talking the price down from $225 to $200 (waaay out of my price range). The reference book was one I'd seen listed on many bibliographies (but few writers seem to have access to one), but couldn't find. Mine is not a first edition, but it's amazing! Even in the first paragraph (of one of four lengthy chapters that relate directly to my book) I found 3 specific facts I hadn't found anywhere else. And that is just the beginning :-).

This reference will change many aspects of my writing--and deepen the authenticity of it in amazing ways. I challenge you to think about the way great books can make your writing even greater--Is there a particular reference book or antique book you'd want to add to your reference library?

Excited by a new (hmm---old?) book to use as a resource,
~Saoirse

Organizing...And Blogging...And So...

2008-06-28T22:26:00.004-04:00

So...

I was thinking about my blog here and realizing it's grown into a bit of a monstrosity. I've fallen into the trap of having too many things here that sort of relate, but could be more effective in different, more focused areas. So I'm thinking I need to split stuff up a bit. I'll focus on the aspects of writing romances, developing writing vocabulary and skills here while focusing on the research and specific stories elsewhere. I don't know--sometimes it makes more sense than others. At the moment it makes a bunch of sense, though.

So here I'll do the Romance Writer's Word of the Day (except weekends), I'll start Manic Mondays again, comment on the life of a would-be-writer, discuss stuff related to publishing and the business of writing, post my own occasional reviews and and link to polls, contests, publishers, agents and prompts I like.

The specifics of my growing "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills" novel will wind up elsewhere (there will be links here to it, of course). And the growing "Dreams in Red" novel (earlier called "Barrister's Bastard") will have a place all its own. It seems it wants to grow pretty badly (or perhaps pretty well ;-) right now.

I hope that all makes sense... Maybe after I sleep it will to me again, too. ;-)
~Saoirse

Sunday Scribblings Prompt: Vision

2008-06-27T22:26:00.003-04:00

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is "vision." Hmm. So many different types of vision, really. Let's see what I can make clear in a story form (anything for me to gain further insight into the books and characters I'm working on, right? ;-).

"James--" she paused, squinting.

He stood before her, fists balled at his side, jaw jutting forward--ready for a full blown confrontation.

Today, Anne decided she would not give him the satisfaction. She brushed her gloves together, crumbs of rich soil clinging stubbornly to the leather.

"What?" he challenged, his eyes seeming to shrink as they became a very distinct and unattractive likeness to a pig.

Anne sighed and swatted the remaining dirt off her gloves and onto her skirt. She knew the servants would shake their heads at such a thing, but she needed a moment to think. Reaching up, she tilted her hat very subtly and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"James," she began again, more softly, "I know what made my father so ill."

James' eyes narrowed further--Anne wondered how they could, they were so like the tiny French knots her mother had used to create doll eyes.

"I know it was oleander in father's cake. And I know you were the one who did it." She held up a hand to signal he should keep his mouth shut.

It still gaped open in surprise.

"It occurs to me that having the two of you living under the same roof may not be a wise idea. You are far too eager for my inheritance, and my father is far too eager for me to be free of--well, of you." She tugged off one glove, finger by finger. "It all seems quite inevitable, really. Had you not tried to kill him first, surely he would have tried to murder you--accidents are far too common on plantations." Her gaze flickered to him, a silent, yet pointed threat.

Her brows drew together for a moment as she peered at the base of his throat. The spot his charm used to hang. Odd. Hadn't he said he had lost the thing in a tousle with a slave? She shaded her eyes and glanced towards the sunlight filtering through the trees. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but from her spot under the myrtles she could have sworn his charm was still there, glowing eerily on a ghostly chain around his neck. She swallowed. Odd. She tore her gaze away again, busying herself with the other glove.

He grated the words out from between his teeth: "So what do we do now, Annie?"

"Well, as I am your wife and ill-suited to plantation living and the normal standards of local society, I think--" she paused. "Do you smell smoke?"

He pulled back, looking at her as if she'd finally gone utterly insane.

But even as he was reacting, she knew there was nothing for him to react to but her. Behind him she saw strange shadows, like dark tongues of flame. They licked around him, snapping and popping as she watched, and then--they were gone like the very shadows they had been. She wobbled and he grabbed her by the arm to steady her.

"Annie?" he asked. "Are you ill?"

"No," she replied, straightening. She felt cold. She licked her lips. She would need to get the visions under control if she was going to make this work. "James?"

"Yes, Annie?"

"Take me away from here. Take me on a grand adventure--like the stories you told by the dockside." She fixed him with her most alluring gaze. "Let's not fight anymore. Let my father have the plantation--he's an old man. How much longer will he live without your interference?"

He moved towards her, the heat of his body so close made a fine sweat bead around her temples. "Where shall I take you, Annie?" he asked, eyes sparkling.

Anne found herself thanking God that James' ego was so predictable. So where could they go that he'd be no more threat to her father? Where could she clean up the mess of this marriage she'd been so eager to create? She smiled up into his eyes, curling into his arms and whispered the answer. "Take me pirating."

Okay, so it doesn't spend as much time as I wanted to on the snippets of visions that have been causing Anne to falter, but it's something. And it feels good to try a SS prompt again, too. :-)

For more great answers to Sunday Scribblings prompts or to participate yourself, go here!

Keep writing!
Saoirse

Blogging E-Award for Excellence

2008-06-26T09:05:00.008-04:00

I'd like to thank Sara for passing this award along to me (although it was months ago and I somehow overlooked it).

Now I need to re-download the award as it's gone forever in the depths of my other archives--and choose 10 awesome bloggers to pass it along to...

Ah, here:

Nuts. I'll need to save it and tweak it--sadly, my computer is not wanting to accept excellence today, so I'll try and convince it to be comfortable with the mediocrity we seem able to maintain. ;-)

Here:

So here are my ten bloggers I'd award this to (must grab links):

1.) The Novel Racers (because they're still plugging along)

2.) Bone's Blog (he hosts 3 Word Wednesday, too, btw)

3.) Unusual Historicals (VERY informative)

4.) The Word Wenches (also quite smart)

5.) more to follow, must get the sheep... 2 new lambs

6.)

7.)

8.)

9.)

10.)

Keep writing!
Saoirse

3WW: Spontaneous, Shook, Rumor

2008-06-25T16:01:00.008-04:00

3 Word Wednesday--Trying to get this out between blackouts... Blue skies are pretty, here, though... Hmm... Used to only get blackouts when it stormed...

Janet was the last one the servants would call "spontaneous."

She fastidiously laid her clothing out three days in advance. She would have gladly prepared better, but three day's clothes was all she owned. She liked to think it simplified her choices. She couldn't fathom dealing with the vast array of clothing the triplets, Mary, Kate, and Ashley had amassed... How did one ever decide what to wear each day when faced with so many options?

Janet's east-facing bedroom chamber was a study in organization with each item carefully tucked in its special place. Everything was neat and well-maintained, and Janet preferred it that way. In a household where so much was always in a state of frantic anticipation (but what could be expected in a home with three girls, all of marrying age?), it was important to Janet to maintain some sort of eye in the perpetual storm.

Her life was as well-ordered as it could be--it was a necessity when someone ran a household, Janet believed. Everything had a time and a place. All meetings and arrangements had specific dates. The grain was delivered

So it shook her to the core of her being when she sat up in bed suddenly that morning with the overwhelming desire to ride, alone, into the heart of Carterhaugh. She tried to ignore the impulse, going about her normal routine as best possible. She shrugged into a shift and tugged on her mantle--blue, because it was the second day of the new month.

"What?" Janet leaped out of the skirt in dismay. "Oh, no, this won't do," she muttered, looking at the wet cloth. "Where did--" But she remembered the rain on the rooftop last night, and saw where a drop of water hung, threateningly, over her clothing's normal place. "Oh!"

She reached into her wardrobe and pulled out the green mantle, tugging it up over her slim form and smoothing it out. "Green. Hmm."

The single window in her room opened, pulled free by a sudden gust of wind. The scent of spring and running water reminded her of dense forests and--she swallowed--the Ettrick Forest and the rivers that burbled along the borders or Carterhaugh.

She brushed her hair, trying to slow the strange racing of her heart. Why did she want to ride into that area? Ever? Certainly it was a beautiful place, and she was doomed with it as her dowry, and if the rumors were to be believed--

She gasped, looking down at the green mantle again. "No--that is certainly not in my plans--" She recalled the song the bard had sung last night so merrily:

"There's none that goes by Carterhaugh
But they leave him a gift,
Either their rings, or green mantles,
Or else their maidenhead."

With a groan she reached for the red mantle and set her jaw, determined to ignore the strange pull she felt from the east. Fiercely she prayed it wasn't destiny calling, because--Dammit, she thought, getting the red mantle settled--I don't recall making a date with destiny at all.

That's it for me,
Saoirse

*See other 3WW posts linked here.

Why I Won't Be Joining Textnovel.com

2008-06-23T17:59:00.010-04:00

*Authors' rights have improved vastly since this was first posted! I invite readers and writers to look at the revised contract and read through founder, Stan Soper's, correspondence here, too. (Note added 7/26/08, my original post and comments follow immediately, as they first appeared.)

And I quote:

* By submitting your content to Textnovel, you grant Textnovel (and any Textnovel successors-in-interest, subsidiaries, or parent companies), a worldwide, perpetual, irrevocable, transferable, non-exclusive, sub-licensable right and license to, in whole or in part, with or without attribution to you, use, copy, modify, edit, adapt, publish, publicly display/perform, translate, display, create derivative works from and/or license (or sell with your authorization) and/or distribute content posted to the Site. Textnovel's rights to content you submit includes the right to make editorial revisions to your content; to use in any way the materials you submit on the Textnovel website or in other Textnovel media, whether now or hereafter created; to use for our own internal business purposes; and/or to reproduce and distribute the materials for Textnovel's marketing and publicity purposes.

Ah, well.

So a cellphone novel isn't immediately in my future after all... Although my novels haven't yet been fished out to traditional publishers, I don't think it's fair for me (or any writer) to hand over all rights (and essentially make your work cannon fodder for a publisher).

I'll admit, it's an inventive idea that may allow lots of people to read new works by new novelists, but man... The whole rights issue is a major sticking point with me. This is a "turnip clause"--a clause only someone who "just fell off the turnip truck" would agree to.

I hope TextNovel makes the adjustments to their contract that'll allow them to get better talent to sign on (without fear for their intellectual property), but, for now I'll wait for someone else with a more balanced contract to come along.

*Please note: TextNovel DID make great adjustments to their contract as I hoped--very few publishers are that open to suggestions from would-be writers. Yes, yes, this is like a total "about-face" of my opinion on this, but if you read Stan's comments--which follow this original post--and then check out their new contract language (also covered in my updated post) you'll understand why I've changed my tune. (Note added 7/26/08)

*Please note: The importance of reading and fully understanding the implications of a contract (ANY contract--with a publisher or an agent or a whatnot) cannot be stressed enough. If you do not understand the full potential scope of a contract, get it in front of a publishing lawyer--trust me, it'll save you lots of headaches in the future! (Note added 8/4/10 by a far wiser author)

Keep writing!
Saoirse

Cellphone Novels

2008-06-22T11:26:00.003-04:00

Perhaps you're familiar with the new publishing rage sweeping Asia. Maybe you saw the news spots. It's fascinating really--one more way to read a book--and a way to save paper, too!

I'm talking about the cellphone novel. Yes. Read a novel on your phone.

There's a cellphone novel "publisher" (I think we need to call them that when you consider the things that currently make work "published") that recently posted on Elance. And they invited me to bid. Ah--temptation!

They can be found at http://www.textnovel.com/ and are currently in a beta state (hey, we've all been there--I think it's called adolescence in humans ;-). Anyway, it seems like an interesting way to get your writing "out there." And, as the site's only been up for about a week, all genres are pretty well open.

And-- did I mention there's popular voting and a prize involved? Yes, I'm a bit of a sucker for additional perks, it seems.

If you've stalled in your writing, maybe this is the royal kick in the rump you need to keep going. I mean, after all, you should start to build a fan base as you write (it appears you retain your rights--READ THE FAQS AND CONTRACT/TERMS OF USE, of course) and hopefully, those fans will depend on YOU to entertain and enlighten them. How dare you refuse? ;-)

So, will I or won't I?

Time, and a couple answers to posted questions will tell...

Keep reading (and writing)!
~Saoirse

3WW: Frequent, Someday, Open

2008-06-19T11:14:00.000-04:00

It's Three Word Wednesday! The words this time were: frequent, someday and open. Here's what I've got...

Frequently she caught herself pausing on the windswept knoll and staring out to sea, an undeniable hunger growing within her. She would rub the hollow where her belly had so recently bloomed, shake her head and begin the long and slippery walk back down to the beach and its shamble of buildings. And she promised herself each time: "Someday."

"Someday he'll come for me." But she wondered if absence made the heart grow fonder or if it simply let chasms between lovers grow.

"Someday he'll forgive me." And she knew he would--he'd never said he'd wanted children, after all. And with their babe lying freshly dead in the sandy soil, he'd have nothing to tie him down. Nothing to tie him to her, either, she remembered, swallowing the thought like a bitter pill.

But the words that always caught in her throat were, "Someday I'll forgive myself." That she had the least faith of all in, probably because she always had the least faith in herself.

Everyone in the spot of a village knew she was losing her mind.

So when the storms rushed in one morning, it didn't surprise them to see her standing where she always did--perched atop the knoll, hair rushing behind her in the coming gale like a long red flag of warning. But this time--

"Gods," Katrina whispered, pointing to the woman suddenly silhouetted in a lightning flash, "Jack's gonna' kill us!" Grabbing Kristen and shouting to Karen, the trio began the dangerous race up the slope, kicking rocks back with each step, scattering sand into the air to swirl and batter. Hand over hand they climbed, glad to have forsaken the long garish skirts many of their type favored.

Above them, Anne's arms were spread wide open, welcoming the coming winds that would toss her onto the rocks below. She took a step forward. "Someday," she whispered as the wind tore the words from her lips, "Someday I'll be free--"

"Not today, you dumb whore!" Katrina's hand snaked up over the ridge and grabbed Anne's ankle. "Get her, girls!"

Kristen sprang up and knocked Anne to the ground, arms wrapping around her waist. Karen sat on Anne, weighing her down like an anchor.

As Katrina managed to get up the last bit of the slope, she released Anne and signaled her comrades to roll Anne over to face them.

"You will not kill yourself on our watch!"

Anne simply stared up at the roiling clouds that blackened the skies like great bruises on the sky above. Her chin quivered and then the clouds burst open and mercifully poured rain down on the four women.

Her victors never saw the tears that slipped silently down her cheeks they were so washed with rain. For that, at least, Anne was grateful. Limp, she let the women lift and half-carry, half-drag her down to the shoreline. She would not resist. If life wanted her more than death, she'd continue to struggle along.

There's mine. Here's a link to where you can find a bunch more and join in yourself!

Have fun!
Saoirse

A Brief Rant : The Other Boleyn Girl

2008-06-16T23:24:00.005-04:00

Ok, I'm sorry, but I finally got to see The Other Boleyn Girl, and instead of enjoying Hollywood's rendition of a book I REALLY loved, I spent most of the movie with part of my fist shoved into my mouth (the part when I wasn't telling my father and my husband just how Hollywood had botched this scene or that character)...

I don't think Dad'll rent any more movies when he comes to my place and my hubby--Well luckily having a son has stopped most of our efforts at getting to the movie theaters, so he'll just adjust (out of sheer desperation) and probably not allow me to read a book again before seeing a movie.

In the end I felt bad for Philippa Gregory (the author) the most, but I felt bad for almost everyone involved in this severely truncated and malformed beast of a movie. Thank God the costumes were marvelous and the acting was sound (not great, but--yep, "sound" is the best I can truly give them). But there were so many scenes Hollywood could have used from the book that would have created a far more powerful piece of cinema--They missed so many blatant opportunities I wanted to see the screenwriter's head on the block, not Anne's.

Anyhow, so that I don't spoil the multitude of surprises you'll encounter in the movie (because, if you did read the book, you WILL be surprised--maybe even a bit horrified), I'll end this post here and simply suggest that you see the movie, then do your best to forget it and READ THE BOOK. But for Heaven's sake, do it in that order (the forgetting will come naturally as a defense mechanism for some, luckily). Man, they could have done SO much better... VERY disappointing as movies go.

Hope you're reading...
Saoirse

And So It Begins... ;-)

2008-02-07T07:13:00.000-05:00

It's the beginning of the Year of the Rat and I'm actually feeling pretty good at the moment.

Last year wasn't a really great one (Year of the Boar). My mother died in mid-June, my aunt passed away Monday (soon it'll be 2 weeks past). I've been to VA once already to help with her things and the will(s) and will return tomorrow (a loooong drive) to do even more. Yesterday my big and brawny Highland cow miscarried a beautiful bull calf at seven months. We think she may have slipped on the ice we were suddenly hit with in our region.

BUT--that is in the past now. I am working to learn from the past, accept it and let it go.

Today marks the first day of the Year of the Rat. And my husband and I are both Rats by the Chinese calendar. So what does the Year of the Rat mean? It is a time to start a new project, launch a new product, make the connections that will help you find new opportunities in the upcoming years. Opportunities will show themselves to many, but Rats will continue to actively seek them and maneuver into them. This is a year of hard work and building in order to reap the benefits in the future.

Do a focus board or a vision board. Get your goals lined up and begin to push towards them. Keep the faith and open your eyes to see the opportunities before you.

Already this year I'm lined up to edit a YA novel (through Elance), write several more animation scripts (through Elance), illustrate a children's book for a gal in CA and help edit a fiction novel for a friend who already has 2 books "out" through a major publisher. I, frankly, am getting more work on Elance than I can easily handle. I have 2 willing patrons I've had to put off because I'm so swamped...

Anyhow.... Things are looking up. I hope your Year of the Rat is as good as mine is sure to be :-)

Take care and get writing--THIS is our year!
~Saoirse

Do Something Good With Your Brain

2008-01-30T08:51:00.001-05:00

Go to FreeRice.com

In the realm of using your vocabulary skills for good rather than evil comes this site.

The site tests your vocabulary ability AND gives rice to needy folks as you pass from level to level.

It was just on the Early Show on CBS... It's probably on their website, but I don't have time right now to look... Anyhow...

I shot over there and played with it (because I don't suggest sites unless I've used them) and there were simple words and then whamo! They toss in some tougher ones (some are pretty obscure, so you'll want to think back to your Indo-European language roots ;-).

But, trust me--It's very cool, educational and good for less fortunate folks.

Have a great day! Oh--remember--today's 3 Word Wednesday (link's on the left under "Writing Challenges").

I'll try and update on all things novel-related later this week...
~Saoirse

Where Does the Time Go?

2008-01-06T15:29:00.001-05:00

It feels like forever since I've been here. Man, have I been busy!

The holidays were a whirlwind and I joined Elance (under my real name) in late December. I immediately got a writing job for an online college group that asks you to research colleges and write up accurate and completely original blurbs for them. I got paid pretty quickly and the girl I worked for was very pleasant.

I then picked up a job doing a script for an animated ESL project and they've already set the funds in Escrow (which makes me feel much more secure).

I've looked at other jobs, too, but some of them have ridiculous expectations (and, quite frankly, want someone to do all the work for them for a pittance). There is one I'd really enjoy, I think, but we'll see how it all comes out.

Other than that--

Lots of things going on for my real name... ;-) I'm illustrating a great children's book (we're doing it all at a very relaxed pace) and will post links to it after we're more comfy with our web-presence.

And the farm--well--It's a lot of work, but how much of a surprise is that, really? I actually have found myself with free time recently...Spooky!

Hope all's well with you all!
~Saoirse

Happy Holidays, Folks!

2007-12-24T15:41:00.000-05:00

Things seem to balance out here. Good, bad, light, dark... I worked like a devil to get everything "just so" because the bil/lan'lord wanted to bring his high school pal (now middle management for Philip Morris or somesuch) over to see bil's property (which we're renting currently). He had asked(well, not really "asked"--more like "informed") me a month or so ago that my family would have the pleasure of hosting them on the 22nd. I mentioned my bro's b-day (also the 22nd) and bil didn't even blink. I should've said, "Fine, tell him to bring a gift," but I was stunned. Too stunned. I shouldn't have been--we hosted friends of theirs before (total strangers in our home), providing food we ourselves raised and prepared, while the sil just looked on like some queen.

I've never much liked royalty or the folks who act like they ARE royalty. So we decided to move. Bought property, are building a home on it. The bil and sil were outraged (because, who would simply pay them rent and have to answer to them for the rest of their lives but us)? Anyhow...

I cleaned like a mad woman before bil and his buddy showed (expecting them to cancel last minute, which is also part of the charm of hosting them). I butchered a wether, a goose, a duck, and tried to improve the health of my pregnant milking goat, Helen. I tried to kill a fisher that was attacking my animals at night. I wound up spending a night in the hospital due to a freaky EKG, numbness in my left arm, dizziness, chest pain and pressure in my back and chest.
My goat miscarried twins. I had several pieces of art that were requested (and needed by the holidays). I had to make something for a Yule dinner and buy gifts for a gift exchange game.

The bil and buddy were late showing up. My goat (who had rallied) took a turn for the worse on the 22nd. My father turned off the oven, not the stove, while I rushed to help the goat. My torte suffered a bit, so I made a fudge wreath and took kirchwasser and rum balls (and sausage balls and two legs of lamb) to the Yule dinner. The dinner was wonderful--conversation was great, the people tremendous. I came home and yesterday my goat died. I was devastated.

But I am assured we are selling my Lighthouse/gallery, my art sales are up and I have a new writing job online (that pays decently).

Life has really been dramatically up and down this year. I hope yours has been more balanced, and in ways, less eventful.

I look forward to next year for many reasons: new house, new property, new neighbors. It'll be the Year of the Rat. I happen to be a Rat. I'm looking forward to next year being my year.

Take care!
~Saoirse

Manic Monday Prompt: Kainomania

2007-12-03T17:37:00.000-05:00

This week's Manic Monday prompt is about kainomania. Kainomania is an obsession with new trends and possessing the very newest things. Think of "keeping up with the Joneses" to the extreme.

Think about your characters--any like that?
~Saoirse

I'll be back with my example...

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 11/29/07

2007-11-29T10:48:00.000-05:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is...

...raiment.

Raiment [ray-mehnt] is a noun meaning, "clothing; outfits; garments."

Here's a sentence:
The simple lines and dull colors of her raiment diametrically opposed her brilliant and complex personality.

Have a great day!
~Saoirse

3 Word Wednesday Prompt: Afford, Cigarette, Dim

2007-11-28T13:46:00.000-05:00

Hmm. So this one's tougher for me since I seldom write in a time period where cigarettes are common. This week's 3WW words are: Afford, Cigarette, and Dim. So let's see what brainstorming will get me...

woman
cigarette
flapper
dancing
prohibition
bar
dim lights

Ok, here we go...

The alleyway was dim and she paused to tug at her artificial silk stockings, pulling in a ultimately garconne manner at the garter belt just below her outfit's dropped waistline. Her bobbed hair flipped loosely around her ears and she scanned the alley through heavily painted eyes, gathering her coat around her shoulders. She was certain this was the place...

A large man stood guard outside the single doorway, about halfway down the muddy alley. She itched to hear the sounds of jazz and dance the night away with members of the flaming youth. She had saved up for three weeks to blow it all here and now. Finally she could afford to have some fun.

"Hey, babe," the heavy man grunted from his spot, partly cloaked in shadow and evidently holding up the building.

"You the Bruno of this scatter?"

He grinned. A few spaces interrupted a nearly perfect smile. "I'm the Bruno if you can prove you're a hoofer."

"Yeah, I can dance. What do I look like, some bindle punk?"

"No way, doll. And you don't look like no bluenose to me neither."

She snorted, though considering the way he was eying her, she did feel a bit prudish. The fringe of her skirt's hem tickled across her knees.

"So, you got some cabbage for me?" He chuckled.

She was already swaying to the faint strains of jazz music pushing through the door. She shifted anxiously from foot to foot. "I've got cabbage if they've got corn inside." She pulled out a few bills and handed them over.

"Corn aplenty inside," he assured, tucking the money into his coat and knocking five brief raps on the door. The door opened and he gestured for her to move along.

Ginger stepped inside, the music racing over her like the chills. She pulled off her coat and headed straight for the bar. "Bourbon neat," she ordered.

A young man at the bar turned and looked her up and down. "Nice gams," he complemented.

She twisted one ankle around the other and forced a smile. The bourbon would surely help her loosen up, she thought.

"Corn for the dame," the bartender exclaimed, exchanging the glass for more of Ginger's hard-won money.

The man beside her was trying for her attention again. "Like a gasper?" he asked, pulling out his cigarettes.

Ginger pounded back the bourbon and looked at him with wary eyes. She shrugged, letting the alcohol warm her all the way down. "Sure, mac." She tapped it against the back of her hand and rested it between her made-up lips.

He pulled out a lighter and lit the cigarette for her and one for himself.

Ginger thought her night would go just swell now that she was here and making friends, but there was still something odd about the young man paying her so much attention. She had never been to a place like this before. She knew no one at the bar or on the dance floor. She couldn't help but think maybe she was in over her head.

Ok, I didn't know many of the terms (slang) from this era, so I found this cool site and probably got a little heavy-handed with them, but hey! It got me writing... :-)

Hope you enjoyed it!
~Saoirse
PS--Please fill out the poll on interesting cities (pretty far down the page).

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 11/28/07

2007-11-28T07:56:00.000-05:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is...

...indomitable.

Indomitable [in-dohm-i-tah-buhl] is an adjective meaning "unconquerable; unable to be subdued or broken."

Here's a sentence:
Small and slight of feature, she was a mouse before him, but he knew too well the indomitable nature of her will.

Who or what is indomitable in your story?
~Saoirse
PS--Don't forget to try the poll near the page's bottom! Thanks a bunch!

Poll

2007-11-27T11:47:00.000-05:00

Have you taken the poll partway down this page that wonders about which cities intrigue you? Do it! :-)

~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 11/27/07

2007-11-27T09:14:00.000-05:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is...

...provocative.

Provocative [proh-vahk-uh-tiv] is either an adjective meaning, "provoking, stimulating, encouraging" or a noun meaning, "a person, place or thing having a provocative nature."

Here's a sentence:

The subtle toss of her head sending her hair around her slender neck like waves tumbling ashore, the pout of her rosy lips--all added to her devastatingly provocative charm.

What does your character do to provoke interest or action?
~Saoirse

PS--One of the neatest people-watching things I ever did was when a group of friends (male and female) went to a Hooters restaurant. I munched on wings, listened to the conversation adding the occasional "Yep," "Uh-huh," and "You're kidding," but the whole time I was watching the provocative interplay of the waitresses and male patrons. They flipped their hair, they winked, they touched, their lips pouted and pursed... All those things you know from Psychology 101 that are meant to attract a mate, all beautifully portrayed like I was a game photographer for Wild Kingdom watching an exotic bird's mating ritual. How much fun!

Manic Monday Prompt 11/26/07

2007-11-26T16:04:00.000-05:00

It's Manic Monday and I nearly forgot (the last few days have blurred together)!

This week's mania is...

Metrophobia-- the fear of poetry.

Here's my thought on it...

She paused in the hallway, her back tight to the wainscotted wall, chest rising and falling rapidly, face flushed. She heard boots thumping heavily on the hallway's sculpted carpet as he approached and she tried desperately to become one with her surroundings. Oh god, she thought, why could I not be less noticeable? Why could he not have passed me by? Why couldn't I have been born as plain as the other girls?

He was humming in that signature sing-song way of his. The same rhythm, the same tone, the same... Dammit. The most she knew about song and poetry was what she didn't like. And after hearing twenty-three of his inspired (insipid) poems written expressly for her, she knew she didn't like a bit of them.

And if the rumors were true, tonight he would regale a room full of society's finest with a twelve-page ballad illuminating her many virtues. In couplet after miserably rhyming couplet. The footsteps drew nearer and she held her breath and closed her eyes--wishing she was anywhere but here.

There was a rustle and she knew he was shuffling papers. A pause--he was wiping the perspiration from his wide and furrowed brow and running a now-damp hand through his thinning hair. She shivered and dug her fingernails into the wood boards behind her, summoning silence.

"The beauty of your countenance glimmers in your eyes
The color of your irises as blue as cloudless skies.
The sun shines brightly on your hair's soft curls so golden,
To you my heart and soul shall ever feel beholden..."

The sound grew mercifully softer as the noise of his footfalls faded and he traveled away down the hall, still hunting for his muse.

She gasped and fanned herself. Her heart raced and she felt as if she might swoon, dropping straight to the polished oak floor. How much longer could she avoid him and his horrible poems on their sweat-stained, crinkling papers? She grabbed her broad skirts and, lifting them to expose her dainty shoes and trim ankles, dashed down the hall, feeling as if rhyming words chased her, singing out the most trivial aspects of her life in a most annoying way. As much as she adored high society, literature and the arts, she felt she was quickly becoming metrophobic.

Have a great week!
~Saoirse

Sunday Scribblings: Misspent Youth

2007-11-26T15:13:00.000-05:00

Here's my answer to the Sunday Scribblings prompt "Misspent Youth." It comes from the prologue I'm working on (off and on) for "Dreams in Red: Seadog."

The train of horses and wagons has only just completed its first day’s pace of painfully inching forward. Already I chafe under the slow pace, the plodding mentality and the questionable intent of those we will come to consider neighbors on the wild and western frontier of these New World colonies. I have become accustomed to quick ships and sea foam, the roar of tall waves and the creak of salt stained wood beneath my feet.

I am accustomed to drama and flight, not the slow swaying pace of grunting oxen and mumbling men brandishing switches like swords. How I miss the ships, which for too few years carried me on bright and dangerous adventures in the sparkling waters far to the south of this mosquito infested trail. The charms of the Caribbean Sea are never more beautiful than they are in the memory of the so-called landed gentry. The thick and loamy scent of flanking forests and the stink of fresh manure make me long for the surf and salty spray of the sea and the warm floral scents of island breezes.

And yet, even as I suffer my way forward in this new and secretive life, I know that if this is hard on me, it must be nearly unfathomable for my husband, a sailor long before I joined him.

I had often considered keeping a diary of sorts while at sea. But the thought my descendants might someday stumble upon my writings and believe me to be arrogant because I felt my story important enough to tell... It is said “Pride goeth before the fall.” I have never wished to fall, only to soar. So I stayed my hand and kept my quill quiet. Even when most tempted to reflect upon a day’s adventures, I kept still, knowing the danger if the true reasons for my actions were ever found out. I have long danced along a double edged blade, barely keeping from slicing myself apart at the hands of my enemies as I am one thing and act the part of another.

Ironically it is only now that I might be my true self, and yet, society has again bound my hands. Only one other soul knows the truth of my adventuring, and I keep him closer than my shadow. Even now, as I write, he dozes with his head in my lap.

Through these simple words I write, I will endeavor to shine the light of truth upon the misguided assumptions and multitude of speculations people have already made about my previous lifestyle and my own self. I will most readily admit that I did make some unfortunate choices. My youth may be best described as misspent. Nearly wasted if you ask those in authority. But every moment shaped into what I am today. An indomitable woman.

There were tragic mistakes and unforeseen consequences because of my impulsive nature. The plantation fire, my marriage to James... My self-centeredness and youthful naivete caused me to burn more bridges than I suffered to build. I was, if not misguided and somewhat troubled, certainly guilty of being young.

History will not remember me fondly, and that is the right granted those who debate the usefulness of their fellow human beings and attempt to find meaning and order amidst past circumstance. Historians and those who write policy, remembering with their own taint and color and speculating on the rest the past we few lived may well vilify me. But there are issues and circumstances few know of that shaped me, making me into an arsonist, rebel, pirate and simple thief—and something far greater than the parts of the whole simply combined. Even with all of those labels, I find the one that fits the best is that of “American.”

I was very nearly born here. Just a child when I made the ocean crossing, my most formative years were lived in the strange realm somehow between the ruling crown, the society I was expected to be a contributing member of, the American natives, the Africans and the pirates. So, I have always walked the edge. I have been a woman—lover, wife and mother-- and yet dressed and lived as a man to be more independent until my daring set me free from the last of my societal conventions.

In a world dominated by men, it is we women who must work behind the scenes whenever necessary to improve our own lot and the lives of those who depend on us. Working in the shadows must only make us hungrier for the light. We must strive to demonstrate our competence and capabilities. Can we be weapon-wielding women capable of defending ourselves and all we have worked for? Yes! Can we set down the sword and still pick up our stitching, being the gentle and wise matron of a household? Yes! As women we may be whatever we aspire to be. We are only constrained by the limits of our own imagination and the company we keep. For myself and my family, I seek the western frontier where there is greater freedom for bright and daring women with the courage to be all that they can imagine being.

For I am, irregardless of name and association, at my heart, and always shall be, Anne Bonny, adventurer. If you must question anything about me, question not my intent, but rather my basest and beggaring beginnings. Let all who read this know that no matter your start in life, the rest is up to you. You are the only one capable of placing limits on yourself and your future.

Sincerely,

Ann C. Bonny, 1722

Hope it was enjoyable--Yes, I'll be twisting history to meet my odd vision of what it could have been...
~Saoirse
PS- poll on interesting cities near the page's bottom...Please mark your opinion. :-)

Tangent Alert: Site for Dreamers

2007-11-22T22:21:00.001-05:00

I stumbled upon this blog today (everyone's eaten their fill and we're all just winding down in our own generally anti-social ways ;-).

It's Dream Keyper (run by Suzy and Polly) and, considering the success of such things as The Secret and exercises like "focus boards" (thank you Oprah and Deb ;-), I think it's got a great thought and feeling behind it. These two gals are asking for you to send your dream to them and they'll paint a key for you and send it to you as a reminder or focus token so you face your dream every day, eventually allowing you to unlock the door to your dream.

I think it's cool. If you've studied visualization at the Olympic level you'll understand the power of such seemingly small things. And the fact they want to be involved in helping dreamers focus--Well that's cool, too. That's giving back in a potentially tremendous way. Anyhow, I feel like I've pretty much used up my allotment of intelligible words, so I know I'm not really doing their site justice. Guess you'll have to see it for yourself... :-)

Me, I have to send an email about my dream...

Take care, all!
~Saoirse

Home and the Holidays

2007-11-22T11:31:00.000-05:00

My Dad's snoring away in the easy chair, my brother's showing my son how to make silly photos using his Mac, my hubby's lying down in our room, and me? I'm nuking potatoes to get them ready for mashing and baking (while evaporating goat milk). Turkey's in, casserole-type stuff's made and waiting for baking space...

I still have animals to feed and lots of farm-type stuff to do. That was my mistake. I didn't outline my expectations for a farmer's Thanksgiving. Hubby did milk the goat, but (in retrospect) that was the least of the things to do. Ugh. Must remember men can't read my mind....

Anyhow--Take care! Happy Thanksgiving!
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 11/22/07

2007-11-21T22:17:00.000-05:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is...

Holy heck--it's Thanksgiving! Shouldn't you be sleeping off your annual turkey binge? Or, depending on how early you got up and read this (I know, I know, this is the first thing you do each day after starting the coffee ;-) perhaps you're putting the turkey in or perhaps trying to tear yourself from the screen and get in your car to drive TO Thanksgiving (thank goodness gas is so cheap). Anyhow...

Happy Thanksgiving!

Our word of the day is...

beholden.

Beholden [bee-hohl-duhn] is an adjective meaning "thankful; indebted; appreciative; obligated; under a moral obligation to another."

Here's a quick sentence:
Though he had been freed of his debt to the Lord and Lady, he felt beholden to the beautiful lady who roamed the halls of the manor, a prisoner in her own home.

Have a great time with family and turkeys (even when they are sometimes interchangeable)!
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 11/21/07

2007-11-21T07:24:00.000-05:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is...

furlough.

Furlough [fuhr-low] is a noun meaning "a military leave of absence; temporary layoff from work."

Here's a sentence:
Although he wanted nothing more than to linger in her loving arms, his furlough was over and duty called.

I hope many of our soldiers have a peaceful and fulfilling furlough during the holiday season!
~Saoirse

Location, Location, Location...

2007-11-20T13:06:00.000-05:00

Real estate agents know it's true...

The location of a property can change its value dramatically. Good neighborhood, higher value, more power in the marketplace. Bad neighborhood, lower value, passed by, passed over. So what do the rules of location have to do with your writing property?

Location as Setting

There are some places and time periods that just capture the imagination. That imagination and perception is a powerful thing to use in your writing.

As a little girl, I remember hearing that Paris was the most romantic city in the world. To be kissed on the Eiffel Tower? Heavenly! In my imagination I still think of Paris as romantic and artistically inspired (even though my reality included dragging students through city streets littered with dog poo on shoddy tours led by an inept tour guide). Paris is a powerful setting for a story. Its rich history (Abelard and Heloise, Notre Dame, French Revolution, Napoleon) has helped endear it in our cultural treasure trove of fantastic places. Write a story in a Parisian setting and (if you know it inside and out) you'll have at least a guaranteed handful of readers who have an insatiable love for that location and will pick up your book out of loyalty to location alone.

The Medieval period and Renaissance are locations in time that attract a following all their own. Our country is dotted with Renaissance Fairs and Medieval Festivals and there are even educational and social societies that have cropped up to help people relive the history. There are other time periods that also attract people's imaginations, consider the strength Regency romances had (and still have) in the marketplace. If you can write to one of those time periods, you are also likely to attract people who regularly read similar things. Just be wary--they will know details about the period and place--you will need to do your research!

Am I telling you to write a story set in a place or time that is already popular in people's minds? Not necessarily (although you probably will because one's already snared your attention, curiosity, or loyalty). Just know your landscape intimately and use whatever things you can to create a strong foundation on which your intellectual property is built.

Location as Publishing House

Obviously, the publisher that picks you up says quite a bit about your writing and target audience. Choose to send out your manuscript packages or queries to the publishers on your "A list" first. Consider their power in the market and their catalog of books as your "neighborhood." If they have a good market share, your "property value" is stronger (and your royalties might be, too).

Think carefully about what authors and works you want as your neighbors, because they speak volumes about you as well (if only because people will compare you to them first).

This, of course, raises the question of self-publishing. Do you want to be compared to other self-published authors, or could it be detrimental to your sales? It will depend on the mindset of your audience. If a potential reader has a bad taste in their mouth from the last self-published book they got roped into reading, you'll have to really work to sell your far superior book to them. Either way, you'll want to investigate your marketing approaches. Consider "guerilla marketing" strategies as ways to reach your target audience.

Think about the location you're seeking for your book... Is it the neighborhood you want to grow old in or is it just a slightly nicer place on your way to a prime location?

Good luck!
~Saoirse

Pirate Poll Results

2007-11-20T07:54:00.000-05:00

I had a poll at the page's bottom dealing with people's favorite pirates or privateers. Making the list were:

Blackbeard/Edward Teach.............................0
Black Bart/Bartholomew Roberts.................0
"Grace" O'Malley.............................................1
Alwida................................................................1
"Calico Jack" John Rackham..........................3
Stede Bonnet....................................................0
Captain Kidd.....................................................0
Anne Bonny......................................................2
William Moody.................................................0
Mary Read........................................................2
Sir Francis Drake.............................................0
Sir Walter Raleigh............................................0
Alexander Selkirk............................................0

A new poll will be posted shortly--please participate and let your opinions be known! :-)
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 11/20/07

2007-11-20T07:17:00.000-05:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is...

ascetic.

Ascetic [uh-set-ik] is a noun meaning, "a person who follows a lifestyle of contemplation and extreme self-denial " and it's an adjective (asceticism) meaning, "extremely strict regarding religious practices; austere; following extreme beliefs on abstinence."

Here's a sentence:
He could smell her sweet breath mingling with her heady lavender perfume as she spoke to him of joyous moments in her garden, and the hunger coursing through his body made him curse the moment he'd turned to a life of asceticism and denied himself such pleasures as her.

Do you have a character with ascetic leanings?

Tell us about them! :-)
~Saoirse

Manic Monday Writing Prompt 11/19/07

2007-11-19T12:17:00.000-05:00

Have you ever heard of this mania, romance writers?

Gamomania. It's the nearly uncontrollable desire to make outrageous, over-the-top or simply odd marriage proposals. I also found it listed as gamonomania and an interpretation of this can also be the overwhelming desire to get married, sometimes resulting in polygamy.

Consider the difficulties for a person suffering from this mania (I'm thinking especially of the variety leading to polygamy--I remember hearing tales of men who occasionally kept several wives and families, totally separate from each other and were essentially living multiple lives at the same time--sounds exhausting to me!). Try writing a snippet that shows a case of gamomania in action. I'll post mine here...

Stefan fingered the flocked box nestled in his coat pocket. 3 carats, pink, emerald cut. Size 7. It was surely no Darya-i-Nur, but it was the most he could afford for his Indian princess. He smiled as she entered the room and allowed herself to be led to his table in the bustling restaurant's center. Thick black hair shimmered and flowed down around her face and shoulders like a waterfall on a moonless midnight. She smiled at him, all elegance and lithe grace.

The host pulled out her chair and with a soft rustle of silk, she sat. Her eyes glittered with golden flecks as her gaze skimmed the room. Stefan's breath caught in his throat as he waited for her approval.

She looked at him again, lips twisting in a grin, gently slanted eyes crinkling at their edges. She reached across the table and took his hand. "It is beautiful, Stefan--extravagant," Alanni whispered.

Stefan exhaled. He was certain he was grinning foolishly now. There was nothing and no one else in the restaurant but his Alanni. The mood lighting, the waitstaff, the exotic dishes and other restaurant guests all evanesced. The room seemed to shimmer and he was suddenly seeing her before the altar with him, dressed like a goddess, surrounded by flowers and candles, a final ring winking on her finger.

His heart raced. He slipped out of his seat and onto one knee, never letting go of her hand. Around him was a flutter of activity he barely noticed, so fixed was he on her and their inevitable future.

A waiter stepped in, ready with champagne and glasses. A violinist struck up a sweet tune and approached on nimble feet. And in the restaurant, all eyes turned to Stefan on his knee.

He cleared his throat. "Alanni, every moment we are together fills me with such joy that I know I cannot live any longer without you forever at my side. Your eyes, your laugh and your generous nature--all these strengths of yours have brought us to this one moment."

She was tearing up. He pulled the box from his pocket and snapped open the lid, one-handed. She gasped.

"Will you, Alanni Arasaratnam, marry this most unworthy man?"

"The Hell she will."

Stefan blinked and the splendor of the setting was shattered by a dour-looking middle-aged woman standing before him, fists balled on her ample hips.

"Stefan? Stand up, Steven, you dumbass. You aren't getting married to her."

"Or anyone else. My god, Stevie. Don't you have enough wives?" Another one of them had stepped forward. "Thank god we found each other on the internet."

Now clearly out of his happy haze, Steven was confronted by Nancy, Susan, Debbie and Marie. Not a one of them looked pleased.

"So this is your business conference?" Marie snapped, crossing her arms. Sweet little Marie's eyes glowed like the bowels of hell when she got angry. Steven fell into his chair, Alanni quickly forgotten as the desire for self-preservation took prominence.

"Business conference?" Susan chortled. "I was told he was scouting out a new investment property." Susan's normally joking demeanor was cold as ice. "So is she what you're trying to stake out? Crap, you could have at least used a different proposal!"

Debbie just snorted through her perfectly dainty nose.

Nancy opened and closed her fists. "What shall I tell the children, Steven?"

"How many do you have?" Marie asked, widening her stance. "I have two."

"Three," Nancy growled, pulling her hair back in a knot.

"One," Susan quipped, stepping out of her heels.

"Guess I was the favorite of this clumsy-handed sloppy kisser," Debbie added between snorts and angry puffs. She picked up one of Susan's shoes. "I have 4 kids at home. What do you say to a hit per kid?"

Nancy rolled up her sleeves in response.

And Steven just sat there, thinking they had all been so much prettier wearing white...

So there's my take on gamomania. If you write to this prompt of gamomania (a scene, a character description, a simple plot, or a commentary) add a permalink to your post on your blog in my comments. I'll try and list participants' links here so we get some more visitors...

~Saoirse

Manic Monday Writing Prompt

2007-11-19T11:40:00.000-05:00

Do you remember that song? "Just another manic Monday, wish it was Sunday..." I know, I know, I'm totally dating myself when I quote the Bangles.

Anyhow, I was thinking about writing prompts and my desire to know more about human nature and psychology. So I thought a regular prompt Monday mornings about manias, phobias, et cetera might help us all add even more depth to our characters and different dimensions to our plots.

Please note that although I'll try to be sensitive (yet lighthearted) about my treatment of these things, I'll be learning along with you and I might flub up occasionally. So, don't be too sensitive about these topics, my handling of them may sometimes be clumsy. Please also leave a permalink to your post if you use the mania/phobia or whatnot of the day to write to.

So here we go... Look for the sign and start thinking (ok, I'm sure you've started thinking before now, but you know what I mean...;-)

~S.

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 11/19/07

2007-11-19T08:04:00.000-05:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is...

...evanesce.

Evanesce [ehv-uh-ness] is an verb meaning: "to dissipate, to become almost imperceivable, to be ephemeral, to vanish/disappear like vapor dispersing."

Here's a quick sentence using it:

She could not fathom how it had happened, how things had changed between the two of them, but secretly watching him with her sister she realized his feelings for her had evanesced.

*As a note, this term shows up after 1810, so you'll want to make sure it doesn't pop up in dialogue if your story's setting is before that.

What sentence might you construct using evanesce or one of it's forms? (evanescence, evanescible... ;-)
~Saoirse
PS--If you're not writing romance, it's still okay to participate and leave a sentence here--we only grow stronger through sharing and learning from each other, right? :-)

Thankful for Being a Writer

2007-11-19T07:20:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here sipping some pretty rough coffee (my fault) and trying to get up my courage to go into the cold and feed the animals and milk the goat. And I'm thinking that I'm thankful I'm a writer.

Don't get me wrong, I'm thankful for lots of things-- my husband (a man quite tolerant of artistic personalities), my son (quite a character), my father (even when life becomes far more complex because of his involvement), my mother's love and influence although she can't be with us physically anymore, my brother (although I don't get to see him nearly enough now), my in-laws (urgh--generally ;-), the smattering of friends and acquaintances I have even here in the bowels of New York ;-), anyone reading my blog (Sara, especially :-)... I'm also thankful that we're closer than ever to being pretty much off the standard Walmart, etc. foodchain. We're cutting chemicals and striving for healthier living in doable ways.

And there's more, but back to being a writer...

I'm thankful that I have the opportunity to express myself and live out my strangest dreams, fantasies and fears through characters that I create (and seem to grow on their own). I'm thankful that even on my worst days, writing is there like a mental cushion to fall back on. I'm thankful I was able to get enough of an education that I have a keen appreciation of language (and languages) and the crafting of characters and building of worlds. I'm thankful that writing is a craft that is usually done in a warm, sheltered setting with coffee nearby. I'm thankful I am blessed with enough creativity that it never seems there's enough time to write all the stories in my head.

There's more that I'm thankful for, and I try to be mindful of the small things daily, but it's good to "count your blessings" sometimes and realize there are lots of things still right in the world, despite what's obviously wrong (like the number of parents gypping in line to exit the parking garage at Playhouse Disney Live on Stage last night--nice modeling of behavior for your kids! I'm sure those behaviors won't bite you in the butt later! ;-). Ahem... Anyhow... I'm thankful for LOTS of things. I hope you're feeling thankful, too.

Thanks for stopping by!
~Saoirse

Strengthen Your Queries by Using Persuasive Essay Techniques

2007-11-18T19:03:00.000-05:00

I had a tutoring session the other night that was noteworthy. Being a believer in the idea that teachers must be constant and active learners, I jotted down a few things I learned while quizzing the kid. As they were working on writing a persuasive letter, I got them to tell me what sorts of things their teacher wanted them to include in their persuasive format.

Their list included:
parallelism
metaphor/analogy
imagery
allusion
logic
rhetorical questions

Working through the session with them, I realized the same things they were trying to utilize are things I should consider more often when drafting query letters to would-be publishers.

Parallelism: consider comparing what you're selling them now to something successful already in their catalog. Remember that publishing houses often ask you to be familiar with their current catalog before submitting so you're aiming at the right publisher.
Metaphor/analogy: consider using active language and powerful words to show how your work connects to their company and target audience.
Imagery: try being visual--show your storytelling ability when constructing the query.
Allusion: think about referring to one of their popular authors/illustrators or books that have influenced you.
Logic: be orderly, logical and sensible in your delivery.
Rhetorical questions: Eh, this one could be utilized, but you want to be careful to not get "cheesy" by saying something like: "Who wouldn't want to buy my book?"

So, how might you use that list to strengthen your own query letters?

Ever curious,
~Saoirse

Sunday Scribblings Prompt: I Carry

2007-11-17T22:15:00.000-05:00

This week's Sunday Scribblings' prompt was: "I Carry." There are many things I carry, burdens both real, imagined and emotional. But this isn't about me. And sometimes, that's how I prefer things to be. ;-) Here's my answer to the prompt, it comes from what I was calling "Barrister's Bastard" but have renamed "Dreams in Red: Seadog."

She felt it every day. It was the weight she carried. It spread along her shoulders, digging into her neck, pressing her spine against itself and bending her back if she wasn't mindful. She never had been so aware of her posture as she was now at nearly twenty. Now that she knew the true weight of her obligation to the Crown.

She took another sip of the thin ale, her eyes sliding the length of the tilted bar. Damn the man, he was smiling at her again. She blinked at him, trying to convince him that she couldn't care less about his attentions or intentions. She turned her back to him, but her spine seemed to wobble beneath the heat of his continued stare. She tried to find something more interesting in the tavern. Pirates to her left and pirates to her right... Suddenly they all blended and became drab parts of the everyday when compared even to the memory of him.

Ann glared into her mug suspiciously. Her stomach fluttered. She sniffed the ale. Ale was ale. Safer than the water, less interesting than rum. She was fairly certain she wasn't getting ill, but she didn't feel herself, either. She closed her eyes. Thought. She only felt this way once, and then so briefly. She straightened on the stool in recognition. She felt this way the day she met James. She had even convinced herself that she felt the same all the way through their rushed wedding. But now she knew better. She felt infatuation only once before. Love? Never.

She tossed back the last swish of ale. If she could continue to ignore him, she might yet keep him safe. It was the tragedy of involvement with her that sentenced a man to swing. The Crown watched her too closely for anything but obedience. Those who were friends before were nothing but tally marks now. It was only luck that kept her from being found out. She tapped the bar and got a refill.

"Here."

She spun to face him, the heat of his body nearly searing her own he was so close.

"I'll get this one," he offered with a wink, sliding his payment to Tina.

Tina glared at him. "Just like Jack," she muttered. "Buy a lass a drink."

Ann tilted her head. "So?" She watched them both. Sparks seemed to fly between them.

"Expects more than conversation," Tina growled.

Ann chortled. "Don't all men?" She turned to face him and leaned against the bar. Letting herself go lithe and inviting. But she knew he read danger in her eyes. "But what one expects and what one gets are often quite different, aren't they Calico?"

He leaned closer and her heart raced realizing the danger thrilled him as much as it did her. "So surprise me."

She knew then she must betray him. Must bring him down and hand him over to the Crown. The weight of that knowledge was enough to crush her remaining spirit. And yet, she felt light enough beneath the intensity of his gaze to take wing and fly...

Yep. Anyhow, my eyes are tired, so that means bedtime. Hope you enjoyed this snippet. It was fun to try and pound out here. :-)

'Night!
~Saoirse

Self-Publishing and the Aspiring Artist

2007-11-17T08:31:00.000-05:00

So I'm on the phone this morning with a pal and we're chatting about publishing and she asks about ebooks.

I give the definition of them I understand, something to the effect that ebooks are still not as popular as print media due to readability issues and the tactile and possessive nature of humanity. I also mentioned that royalties tend to be greater for ebooks because sales numbers tend to be lower. I try to avoid generalizations, but that's what I've personally found. I also noted that ebooks tend to be an easier market to break into because there are so many ebook publishers.

My pal chuckled and said, "Yes, I always thought they were just one small step above self-publishing."

We talked a while longer, but her comment made me think about self-publishing or "vanity" presses. My background in social studies reared its head and I thought, "What's more American than self-publishing?"

I mean, think about it for a moment. Ben Franklin was self-published and he was certainly no slouch. Thomas Paine (I believe) and Paul Revere's prints...also self-published. Wait--I know what you'll argue: "Back in the day you had to publish that way. There weren't many other real options. But today..."

Actually, there were publishing houses "back in the day" (man, I hate that phrase). But, if you were a free-thinker, bucking the trends and with a real vision in mind, you still needed (or quite possibly wanted) to self-publish (or be a landowner powerful enough to get a house to publish for you because of your name--ah, celebrity). We stress "freedom of expression" in this country as well as freedom of choice. Therefore I think America should be proud of its self-publishing tradition. Sure, there's plenty of things that are awful and still get published (thanks to self-publishing) but there are also things that are awful and get published by "traditional publishing houses" (ah, celebrity).

So here's what I'm thinking: Publish with the traditional houses IF they meet your needs. Will they treat you fairly and respect you and your work or will they ask for so many changes you won't even recognize it as your own? Will they do more than the "traditional" $200 worth of "marketing" for your book (thank you Robert Gould for some numbers that publishers use as standard :-)?

If they can't meet your needs or understand your vision, do some soul searching. Publish when and how you want. Let the public choose who to read and support. Let's face it--freedom of choice still probably ensures OJ's book "If I Did It" will outsell most of us lumped together--but ah, celebrity! ;-)

Do what's right for YOU and your vision. You are your greatest advocate, traditional publishing house or not.

Take care and step out boldly!
~Saoirse

Tangent Alert: Finding Moments of Joy

2007-11-16T19:32:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to believe you have to actively search for joyous moments in life--few are the times that joy gets you unless you're open to receive it.

Tonight we took a few hours off to have a decent dinner (salmon alfredo pasta--good for the brain), milk the goat (yes, there's a goat now--2 actually) and play hide and go seek with our son (who will be 4 next March). I had forgotten how much fun playing hide and go seek is.

My hubby was supposed to hide first. He did great, confounding our son to the point that hubby gave up and came out. I mentioned that he's a good hider, so my son stated wryly, "Ok, DaDa, you hide in my room." Ah yes, place restrictions on your opponent's movements--didn't Machiavelli suggest that, too? ;-) My hubby hid (not in our son's room--treachery! ;-) and not too well once he started cracking up as I narrated our search for him. Finding him, our son decided he would hide.

The foldout bed is still open from my father's recent visit, and my son crawled under the sleeping bag while my hubby counted. "Ready or not, here I come !" was answered with giggles. My hubby raised an eyebrow. "Where's Jaiden?" he asked. "I'm here!" came the chuckled reply.

I cracked up. But it's very similar to Jai's take on traditional knock-knock jokes.... "Knock-knock," our son says. "Who's there?" one of us asks. "You!" replies our existentialist boy. Yes, amidst the heartache, the loss and depression, there's still joy. We just have to hunt for it a bit more actively some times.

Take care!
~Saoirse

Random Thought...

2007-11-16T14:51:00.001-05:00

The arrogance of the moon is only surpassed by that of the inky blackness surrounding it--for what good is a diamond without the appropriate setting, the darkness begs to ask.

Eh, I'm sure my punctuation is lacking in that thought--that's what you get scribbling thoughts on bank envelopes.

~Saoirse

An Update/Apology

2007-11-16T07:32:00.000-05:00

I feel the need to apologize. Perhaps it's the fact I attended Catholic school as a child. Perhaps it's the fact the Southern Baptists, of whom my mother was a member, had a corner on the guilt "market" that rivals that of the Catholics (and, Deb's informed me, so do the Jews). Perhaps being surrounded by so much guilt, I feel the need to apologize more often than some people.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not just apologizing to you (any readers that stumble by) but, in a way, I'm apologizing to myself, too.

I'm sorry I haven't been blogging recently. Blogging does make me feel better--more connected, more open. I know I've had a few of you that have stopped by relatively often. I appreciate that.

I'm sorry I haven't been writing my stories recently. I signed up for NaNoWriMo and was earnestly excited about it, but then I think (in retrospect) that it freaked me out a bit. I mean, I've written (completing) many short stories and children's stories, and poems a-plenty in my youth, but knowing I have to FINISH a novel-length piece--It's like beginning and ending something you love. I guess I'm not so good at ending something that I love so much. But, I feel like I've abandoned my characters. They're always there, standing along the borders of my brain, tapping their toes and huffing and puffing like actors waiting for the director to give new blocking directions.

But still, my fingers won't cooperate on the keyboard when their files are open. I'm not suffering from "writer's block." I don't give the notion of "block" any weight or power. But fear--honest to goodness, bloodchilling fear of weaker words and piss-poor prose--that stops me in my tracks. The ideas are still circling in my head. The plot is strong, the characters are ready for adventure and growth. But I'm holding them back because I don't want to end things.

I think it comes back to my mother's death in June and the fact the holiday's have just pounced on me. I just realized this morning that I'm hosting my father and my brother for Thanksgiving, but my mother will never join us again. My eldest bil asked if we were all coming to "second Christmas" (their family's rather hobbit-minded when it comes to celebrations). My heart stopped and I stuttered about responsibilities here---I just dread the idea that "second Christmas" might make me cry openly--and what a bummer for the other attendees! It would be very selfish of me to attend and then "rain on their parade."

So I'm feeling sorry about not attending because I'm still feeling sorry for myself. I haven't been meeting my obligations in other ways recently, too. I am supposed to be writing regularly as part of my writing group trio. Instead of getting me to write (as I also supposed it would), I've stubbornly thrown on the brakes. I'm even supposed to schedule the next meeting. But I can't bring myself to open my e-mail and respond or write anything. Ugh.

So, I apologize. To myself, to my readers, to my characters and my kick-ass writers' trio. I'm still getting my head together. I thought I was "over the hump." I didn't expect the holidays to wallop me like they have.

I'm fighting to return...
~Saoirse

Yesterday...(Tangent Alert)

2007-10-05T15:43:00.000-04:00

So, the odds were nearly even at the first meeting of our little writers group--3 adult women and 3 children under the age of 4. The cat seemed to tip the balance, though, when she adroitly grabbed the fork from one child's left over macaroni and cheese, probably hoping to go in search of meatier fare.

Who were the three women? Deb Blake (I've mentioned her here once or twice--she has two books contracted through Llewellyn--Circle, Coven & Grove is already available and her next book comes out next September) initiated the meeting (so it's all her fault ;-). Deb's current works are nonfiction and she really wants to try a paranormal romance novel. She's got something started already and, frankly, it sounds pretty darn good. I was present, too (no kidding, right?) and, like the super nerd I am, I brought a handful of different things and put them into folders for the others to keep. Did I bring "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills?" Oddly enough, I didn't. I'm not totally sure why I didn't, but, as Deb and Robin both knew I was working on a "trashy romance," talk turned to "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills" anyhow. Now I'm expected to produce 10 pages a month. Yes, yes--it's a good thing. Robin rounded out our trio, she's the youngest of us by about a half-dozen years, and has a hard drive that looks like mine. Lots of things started. Lots of ideas and worlds in creation--nothing totally done to the point she wants. She's going to work on a paranormal YA novel. She has some neat characters and a nice plot line that should twist well at key points.

All in all, a good group with good intentions--uh oh--we all know what path good intentions puts us on... ;-) But really, I greatly enjoyed the discussion and brief reading (even when things were interrupted by potty breaks and snack time--both mainly the kids, not us ;-).

Today I ran to Hallstead (maybe that's one "l") to meet with my father and brother. My minivan began to overheat (and why not--it is a record-setting day for heat in the area and the van only recently cost me $500+ to get this same issue fixed). So, as I'm watching the temperature gage ratchet its way higher and higher, I've got the windows rolled down and the heat pumping through to cool the engine. That was when a song I can only presume is called "Hot Mama" began to play on the radio. Yeah. Funny.

After seeing "the fam," I headed back towards Binghamton (and the nearest Barnes and Noble--yes, sad that I drive an hour from my home to find the nearest respectably-sized bookstore). My son recently proved he's truly potty-trained and had picked out a "big boy toy" (an interactive book about drawing--in the B & N bargain section) that we needed to get. I picked up "Girl with a Pearl Earring" and "I am Rembrandt's Daughter" for a number of reasons (long trip on Thursday and Monday for one). The van rebelled a couple more times (my father had checked the coolant level and filled it up again), but I believe the issue is indeed the fan (another thought of my father's). So, continuous movement--forward momentum = good. Hey--that's just like writing, isn't it. Ain't life funny that way?

Take care!
~Saoirse

3 Word Wednesday: Feather, Useless, Misplaced

2007-10-04T00:40:00.000-04:00

Feather, misplaced, useless...These are the 3 words this week for 3 Word Wednesday. Since Sara was kind enough to stop by and ask if I was going to do it, I'm going to give it a shot. Here's what I'm doing as I do it:

Brainstorming:
feather falling
useless feather
Silkie's feather
unable to fly
angel
broken wing
wounded wing
misplaced honor
useless angel...ugh. Let's see where this goes...

"The baby is coming--the baby!"

The midwife stood and made her way to the quivering door. The only baby that was due--wasn't. She wrinkled her nose and reached for the door.

The man was still shouting--pounding on the rough hewn wood that stood between them.

Serina slid the bolt back and he nearly fell through the open doorway and onto the wizened woman. "Back, Petros!" she snapped, faintly wondering how much of what dripped from the man was rain and what was perspiration. Men. They were always like this with their firstborn. Always simpering, useless idiots. And yet women kept having sex with them. She shrugged into the cloak that always hung by her door. Eh, such were the true mysteries of life. Birth--death--they were not mysterious. Both were merely cycles to be ridden out. Love--that was the greatest mystery.

He was babbling. "--Mother Serina, it is too early--"

Pfah, she hated the title the townspeople had assigned her. Mother? A term of respect or a bitter pill to swallow as Serina had born no children of her own. She had been present at hundreds of births in her lifetime but had never once carried a child back to her own home. She wrestled a moment with the shabby barn door and finally yanked it open, spraying water. Thank the gods the rain had stopped. But Petros had not...

"--her water has broken and she is crying--"

Serina nodded, a curt movement. She saddled the swayback mare as Petros paced and cursed. She shook her head. Utterly useless. "Up, Petros!" she demanded and he lifted her onto the horse with a swiftness she feared would toss her over the other side. "Take the reins, Petros. As fast as you can lead us is as fast as we may ride."

Petros was out the door and racing into the darkness with them faster than Serina had imagined a man of his size could move. She thanked the gods she had the forethought to make him hold the reins--without the physical connection she might have easily misplaced him in the gathering blackness. She clucked to the mare. "Follow, Tilda. Follow."

The graying mare obeyed, a ghost in the soggy night spattering mud up as the rain began to fall down once more.

Timairin stood by the roadside, just one more tall shadow nestled between the slender trunks of the trees. Cloaked, wings tucked against her back, she watched the hurried progress of the man leading the horse that now struggled to keep up in the sticky mud. She blinked. Something tugged at the back of her mind, warning her. She knew she should not be here. Should not be preparing to do this thing she had impulsively planned. Should not contemplate going against the God.

She closed her eyes and sighed. There were few choices for an angel when their God had gone mad. She reached a hand out towards the horse on the road below.

The mare slowed to a stop, nearly pulling Petros off his feet and into the ankle-deep mud. She whickered. Petros cursed. In the saddle, the old woman pulled the cloak tighter, trying to keep out the strange chill she suddenly felt raising the hairs on her arms.

Unseen, Timairin shed the cloak and her mortal form, slipped down the slope like dappled moonlight and slid into the old woman's skin. She shuddered as she seeped into Serina and sought the midwife's soul, tucking it away so there'd be less problem later. With a touch she set the horse into motion again, filling it with a line of light that flowed into its veins like a rush of youth.

Petros now lagged behind as the horse launched forward, seeming to know instinctively when to turn and when to stay straight on the rutted and torn track connecting the villages. The house glowed in Timairin's eyes and she felt the woman's labor long before she heard her cries of distress. The door stood open and Timairin wore the midwife like a fleshy costume, dismounting and racing inside to stand beside the woman now stretched on the home's only bed.

The bystanders gasped to see old Serina move so fast and Timairin tried to temper her reactions to the expectations of the crowd. Finding the old woman's voice, she said, "Out, you!" With a shake of a gnarled fist she cleared the room of all but the frantic husband. This type was always the worst. Timairin tried to ignore him and focus on the writhing woman. She took Betka's hand in her left, passing her right hand gently along the woman's bulging midsection. She shook her head. The energy was too tangled, too thick and angry to glimpse the real story without going deeper...

"I must consider the safest action to take," she made the midwife say to Petros. He nodded.

Good, she would need his belief to buy her time for what came next.

She sucked in a breath and tugged slightly out of the midwife so that her spirit was free to reach what even spirited hands might not. Sinking glimmering fingers into the swirling mess of energy, she slowly teased them apart like a spinner with new fiber. Ah--the baby showed himself--angry, red and gloriously wrinkled. But positioned wrong. Not breech, no, that would be simple. Wrapped in his own cord, strangling, fighting and his back up against his only true exit.

"She's bleeding!"

Timairin heard the words as if cotton filled her ears. She stepped fully out of the midwife and opened the box where the soul was stored with haste. The woman might be disoriented, but she might prove more useful yet on her own.

The midwife stuttered, blinked and rushed to staunch the flow of blood. Timairin saw something had torn loose inside the woman, something she had no name for, yet knew would probably end her life before the woman knew the true meaning of motherhood. And still, the baby fought as the mother faded. She had to make a choice. The baby or the mother. Both--an impossibility even the most optimistic of angels could recognize. Life in the mortal world was about balance... Equilibrium.

Something crept out of the shadows at the room's corner, unseen by the man, the woman or the midwife. But Timairin knew it well. The spectre sat up straight, a mix of wolf, wyvern and something far less holy. Two horns sprouted from its head and it fixed its hungry gaze on the weakening woman and the child she had yet to bear.

Timairin's wings swept in protectively. Not both. She struggled to pierce the veil of the future, knowing those hunting her might track her more easily once she did. Still, Timairin sought the knowledge deemed forbidden to all but the God himself.

She hissed at what she saw, sending a cool breeze across Betka. The woman shivered in the draft. Petros was beside her now, wiping the sweat from her brow, whispering reassurances.

But no words could fix something so broken. If the mother survived she would live a few years in a weakened state. There would be no child for her, only sadness at what might have been. But if the child lived... There was hope like this world hadn't seen in lifetimes. And this child would be that hope's companion and nemesis--and so much more.

"Stay with her Petros," Serina whispered. "I cannot stop the bleeding."

"What?" he gasped. But he nestled closer to his wife, held her hand tighter and whispered still more tenderly. And he prayed. He prayed harder than he had ever prayed before.

Timairin sank her fingers into the whirling energy, wings tucked close around her like a shield. And as she reached the strangling babe, she became material enough within the woman's womb to grab the child and unwrap the cord and reposition him.

"I might yet save the child..."

Petros wiped at his face.

Timairin pulled back, wingtips trailing. As the child faded from her sight, she saw a small fist reach up determinedly--like even he sensed victory--and he snatched a feather from her disappearing wings. She gasped in surprise, but the shock of being recognized by anyone was quickly replaced with a tenderness for this child who fought for life and stole feathers from twice-fallen angels.

The beast in the corner snarled and Timairin reached across and snapped off one of the two horns on its misshapen head. Not both, her eyes glowed. Then she leaned over the woman and kissed her forehead, drawing back to watch as Betka rallied for a final push and then fell into a fevered sleep.

Timairin heard the sound of trumpets and knew she must speed away to evade the hunters now. Readying to blend back in to the cramped and dirty mortal world she had come to prefer, she heard Serina say: "A healthy boy--how odd--he's holding a perfectly white feather..."

And the little one shrieked his triumph as his angel fled the scene.

Ok, what you don't know is that this scene came to me years ago when I was listening to a Celine Dion song. I wrote an original version that (if read at a normal pace) could coincide with the song lyrics. I was working on comics and animation then and had a strong desire to blend a few things together. But I don't know where that original version got to. That was an entire hard drive ago. This scene is actually the genesis of one of my main characters from a YA-styled thing I was writing some years ago. Some day I'd like to return to it, but for now it sort of reminded myself of its existence as I was brainstorming.

Hope you found it interesting,
~Saoirse

Happy Birthday!

2007-09-28T07:53:00.000-04:00

Happy birthday to the bra--the piece of clothing closest to our hearts! Men struggle regularly to overcome their confounding closures and many of us are just thrilled to feel like we have support without issue! They define us as women and change the way we're perceived as we transition from girls to young women. 100 years ago Vogue first coined the term "brassiere." So, strapless, sport, training, push-up, underwire or other, let's all salute the valuable (and generally burnable, if you feel the need) undergarment that's helped hold us together all these years! ;-)

LOL (or giggle madly),
~Saoirse

Sunday Scribblings Prompt: Powerful...

2007-09-27T23:30:00.000-04:00

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt deals with the feeling of being powerful. Personally, I think power is a highly volatile thing. If you don't have it, someone else does. And who hasn't struggled for it in some fashion--power in a relationship, power in a career--power over oneself. But that is just me. Let's see what someone else might think of power...

Tomorrow. I'll be back after I sleep and coffee up!

Good night folks!
~Saoirse

Holy Heck--It's Three Word Wednesday!

2007-09-26T23:35:00.000-04:00

Ok, I almost forgot. The pig is gone (don't ask) and I'm covered in briars and trying to do so many other things... Ugh! But Deb wrote 4 pages today after chatting with me and I have a meeting with a couple writers next week and nothing --NOTHING-- new written in so long...

Ok, the 3 words were: caught, eager, perfume. I'm new at this, so I'll start slowly...

He turned down the hallway. A door at the hall's far end closed with a "click." He thought he glimpsed the hint of a ruffled blue train just as it was swept inside by momentum, but he couldn't be sure. So he quickened his pace, only reminding himself of the necessity of gentlemanly reserve when he stood just outside that same door, hand warming the knob. He dared not go in. What would she think if she knew he followed her, eager as a hound cornering its quarry? But then he caught a whiff of her perfume, the scent of lilacs swirling up to tease his nose. Was she so close then? Only separated from him after these long years by a single wooden door?

Eh, it's something at least... Now I can bring in the dog, get a shower and sleep... Ah, yes. I remember sleep...Tomorrow I'll check out other 3 worders...

G'night all!
~Saoirse

Hi! Are You New Here?

2007-09-25T08:22:00.000-04:00

I thought I might sort of introduce my blog to you--take you on a bit of a tour. I'm a published writer working on hammering out a novel or three, the one that's furthest along is "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills" and draws inspiration from the ballads of Tam Lin, Burd Janet, Thomas the Rhymer and a bunch of research. You'll notice my word counters in the left margin.

Every weekday (barring madness and loose pig or cattle--which brings on madness) I post a "Romance Writer's Word of the Day." It's like a vocabulary word that I've either found several times when reading in this genre, or it's a word I think would add to your writing (in this genre or others). You are encouraged to respond with a comment including a sentence of your crafting (or a favorite quote) that includes the word. A master list of the words (links) is also in the left margin.

"Story Samples" are linked on the left. If you see an SS that means it was from a Sunday Scribblings prompt. See an HH, it's about "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills." See a BB, it deals with "Barrister's Bastard" (now "Dreams in Red: Seadog").

Opinion pieces are on also linked on the left. See Just My "Humble" Opinion? I try not to bring too much of my personal opinion here, but occasionally it's inevitable.

I'm also updating a list of Romance Publishers (also linked in the left margin) as time goes on (and I have time to do it).

I have Writing Prompts (left margin) that you may participate in at any point and I've also recently added Tips and Tricks (little "articles" about ways you might improve your writing).

Towards the page's bottom you'll find whatever survey or poll we're doing here--feel free to participate if it's still open. I'm very curious about people's thoughts.

Want to participate in Writing Challenges? I have links to some of them on the left, also. If you have one to suggest, let me know and I'll check it out.

I also include my Useful Research Links from "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills" (below), Publishers and Contests (left margin), Blogs I Breeze By and The Archives. I also occasionally post prompts here, too. I try to include viewable labels on all my posts so you can quickly and easily find similar things via links.

I hope you find something enjoyable and useful here!

Sincerely,
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 9/25/07

2007-09-25T07:55:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

Facade [fuh-sahd] is a noun meaning "a false-front; an illusion of something; (in architecture) the front or public-facing side of a building."

Here's a sentence (eh, two):
She dabbed at her eyes and fumbled to repair her makeup. Regardless of how she truly felt she knew she must maintain the facade that he no longer meant a thing to her.

So what facades have your characters tried to maintain (or succeeded in maintaining)?

Have a great day!
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 9/24/07

2007-09-24T22:47:00.000-04:00

Well, today signaled what seems to be "the annual catching of the pig" event here on the farm. Pig broke loose in the middle of the night (which explains why our dog suddenly had to go "out" at 3:40am) and evidently had himself quite a bit of fun (he was nearly black with mud when he trotted over to me this morning). I corralled him in with the pastured birds (which created havoc). Then, when the hubby came home and we tried to get said pig into a place he couldn't destroy more madness ensued (a lasso, "wheelbarrow", squealing/screaming as he was carried). What fun! But you aren't here for that. ;-)

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

languish.

Languish [lang-gwish] is a verb meaning "to suffer or pine away with desire; to suffer being delayed, disregarded or neglected."

Here's a sentence:
As frequently as he turned his attention to other women at the ball, she feared she would languish as a wallflower because of his undeniably short attention span.

Have a good day!
~Saoirse

Identity Revealed!

2007-09-24T09:26:00.000-04:00

The Sunday Scribblings last time was "Hi, my name is..." We needed to introduce someone. I introduced a character in my upcoming NaNoWriMo "experience" which I'm calling "Barrister's Bastard."

I'd like to thank the brave souls who read the entry and left a comment: Paisley, Jo, Robin, Paris Parfait, MissMeliss, and Tumblewords. Thank you for participating! Kudos go to Robin for first identifying the character speaking in the prompt...

Drumroll, please... Yes, it is indeed Anne Bonny, the child (by the last name of Cormac) first dressed as a boy and taught to lie by her father (whom, by all accounts she adored).

Thanks to everyone who visited and left a comment or a guess!
~Saoirse

An Aside... or Rant...

2007-09-23T18:24:00.001-04:00

How frustrating! I was just in a tutoring session with a 10th grader who was suffering writer's block. His/her assignment? Summarize Lord of the Flies, but only write the introductory paragraph for the essay and don't bother with any "hook"--get right to the thesis. Ok, not a bad way for the teacher to break apart and essay and make it less overwhelming, but evidently the teacher's not helping the kid's self-esteem. The student had issues with timed district writing tests and felt they were lacking in writing ability somehow because of that. They thought their first drafts were worthless.

I assured them that they were normal and timed tests are laughable when viewed by real writers of any worth. I let them know that first drafts are usually pretty pitiful--that's why we edit and edit again and then submit manuscripts to editors... They seemed to feel better about their abilities, but I thought, "Why must I reassure a child about their rough drafts and performance on TIMED tests?" I mean, what are we thinking when we decide to trim all semblance of "art" out of writing and go for timed production writing? It's just obscene.

But that's MY opinion...
~Saoirse

Once Again a Pleasant Writing Diversion

2007-09-23T10:50:00.000-04:00

Thanks to Sara for finding a neat new (to me at least ;-) relatively random weekly writing exercise at: Three Word Wednesday. Each Wednesday they post 3 words and you need to write something using them. Think "Sunday Scribblings" but with words you must use, not just a friendly, general prompt.

Anyway... I certainly came to the party late this week (need to stop by Sara's more often, I guess) but I'll try and get myself ready to participate next Wednesday.

Hope to see you there!
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 9/21/07

2007-09-21T15:21:00.001-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

barrister.

Barrister [bahr-uh-ster] is a noun meaning "a lawyer (usually in England) who may plead to higher courts."

Here's a sentence:
Holding her in his arms he felt he could make any case for their love, even as the beginning barrister that he was.

Take care!
~Saoirse

Sunday Scribblings Prompt: Hi, My Name is...

2007-09-21T14:58:00.000-04:00

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt was "Hi, my name is..." We're supposed to introduce ourselves or a character, or something. Since people have occasionally said they like the amount of research I pour into my writing, I thought I'd introduce someone I'll be writing about for NaNoWriMo ("The Barrister's Bastard") and see if anyone can guess who she is. Still working out a few details, but 98% of my research and timelining's done. So here:

Greetin’s, love! You and I haven’t had the pleasure of meetin’ yet, but as yer here, I may as well introduce meself. Aye, that’s a wee bit of a lilt ye may be hearin’ in me voice. I was raised in Ireland ‘til me father’s scandal was discovered and he brought me and me mother to Carolina.

What was the scandal? Me mum was naught but me father’s wife’s maid. His wife discovered his wee indiscretion when she slept in the maid’s bed one night and he sneaked in to have a bit more ‘an the regular service... Needless to say, both of ‘em were quite surprised!

Life in Carolina was good. Me father settled us in Charles Towne and claimed us as his legitimate wife and daughter. He started business again as a bit of a barrister and then bought a proper plantation to better establish us in society. He tried to raise me to be a proper lady, but I was fascinated by men’s pursuits. I learned how to run the plantation and received enough of an education in weaponry to strip me swordmaster’s clothing from him, button by button. When a young gentleman – I use the term loosely— attacked me, I beat him so severely with a chair he was abed for several weeks.

I had a bit of the devil in me, I reckon, and ‘twas that that led me to the docks where I met me husband, Jamie. Me father wouldn’t suffer him as me spouse as he was nuthin’ but a bootless soldier and privateer. But there was the light of adventure in his eyes and—and I was still young then. Me father cast us out and in the heat of me foolish passion the plantation burned. Jamie and I set sail for warmer waters and more tropical settings. New Providence, we call it. I made friends quickly and left James when he turned informer on our mutual friends.

I had a few relationships, made a few mistakes along the way. I still insist that knockin’ that wench’s teeth out at the ball was one of the best decisions I ever made—she was quite simply rude and I will not suffer disrespect. So James and I haven’t been together for a while now. Still stings his pride to see me with me new man...

Aye, that’s him o’er there in the fancy calico cloth. Bit of a coxcomb, but he’s quite a captain, too. Just needed to be inspired by a fierce woman. But enough about him, you were askin' 'bout me. Oh, ye weren't? So much the better!

Here—have a drink and rest yer weary bones. The night is young and we’ve just gott'n news that Blackbeard’s been killed. Let’s all raise a glass to the best damned pirate among this beleaguered bunch! To Blackbeard!

Any ideas or guesses? Some of you will surely get it quickly as pirates have been "hot" over the past couple of years. Good luck! And for more "Hi, my name is..." participants, go here...

Have a great weekend! Enjoy!
~Saoirse
PS--I will reveal the "lady's" (and I use THAT term loosely) identity Monday morning by 10 am. Stop back in if you aren't sure, or if you're curious...Also, take a moment to take the new survey at the page's bottom, please. Your time is MUCH appreciated!

Survey Results: Classic Romances

2007-09-21T12:29:00.000-04:00

Okay, so in my last survey I asked out of (a very small number of) "classic romances," which people had read.

Here are the results:
9 people responded (hey, quality over quantity, friends ;-)

Title: # of People Who Read It:
Gone with the Wind....................6
Jane Eyre.........................................7
Great Gatsby..................................7
Pride and Prejudice...................4
Wuthering Heights.....................6
Phantom of the Opera...............1
Tale of the Genji..........................0
The Scarlet Pimpernel..............1

Personally, I read "The Great Gatsby" (required in high school) and watched 2 versions of "The Phantom of the Opera" (one much better than the other; one musical, one not--the latter surely felt as long as any book might ;-). I watched "Gone with the Wind" (and learned quite a bit about the cinematography in the process). I tried to watch a version of "Wuthering Heights." I really did. But my brother and I weren't in the right state of mind (if there ever is one) for that particular version of that particular movie and started laughing too hard at the melodramatic acting that threatened to ooze free from the television set. We turned it off in self-defense.

But yesterday, I bought a copy of "Sense and Sensibility." I intend on reading it--soon.

What "classics" do you recommend? I loved "The Hunchback of Notre Dame." I have to think about the others I thought were remarkable...

Take care!
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 9/20/07

2007-09-20T10:17:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

coxcomb.

Coxcomb [koks-kohm] is a noun meaning, "a conceited man; a vain man; a "dandy" or overly stylish man."

Here's a sentence:
He adjusted the frill of lace that ran like a waterfall from his high-collared neckline, and smiling, pursed his lips at the realization his peers underestimated him as nothing but a simple coxcomb.

Have a great day!
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 9/19/07

2007-09-19T13:05:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

bootless.

Bootless [boot-luhs] is an adjective meaning " useless, ineffectual; seemingly broken and beaten; helpless; worthless."

Here's a sentence:
Every time he saw her he thought how bootless he felt leaving her again to suffer at the hands of her abusive husband.

This word has really early origins, so almost anybody can use it (or a related form of it).

Have fun!
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 9/18/07

2007-09-18T08:06:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

salacious.

Salacious [suh-lay-shuss]is an adjective meaning "lustful, even to the point of obscenity."

Here's a sentence:
He could barely bear to see her so scantily clothed--he tried desperately to keep the salacious feelings that pumped through his veins from showing in his glittering eyes.

Have a great day!
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 9/17/07

2007-09-17T14:07:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

ataraxy.

Ataraxy (also "ataraxia") [at-uh-RAK-see] is a noun meaning "a freedom from mental unrest or disturbance; freedom from passion; a certain imperturbability or tranquility."

Here's a sentence:
The very sight of her made him feel imperceptibly aware of her every sensual detail, so he often disappeared and sought ataraxy, having failed too often among such temptation.

Have a great day!
~Saoirse

Sunday Scribblings Prompt: Collector Personality

2007-09-15T11:37:00.000-04:00

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt was: Collector Personality. Well, no need for fiction here--I AM a collector. Always have been. If you saw my kitchen today, you'd think I was a collector of apples. But that's only circumstance. It is harvest-time, after all ;-).

I come by collecting quite honestly. My father collected hobbies. He was a photographer, jeweler, poet, scuba diver, swordsmith and herbalist.

My aunt collected cats. Yes, she was a librarian, and single. No joke.

At first I collected odd friends. There were several with messiah complexes. Others were martyrs and habitual victims (what fun they were in the same room!). I had a small collection of minor sociopaths and a few narcissists for good measure. There were also those too complex to easily label.

Two of them were also collectors. One collected troubled young men, and the other collected little braided rings of hair that were keepsakes the Victorians had of dead loved ones. I preferred the troubled young men as collections went. They at least were alive (and far more interesting).

In college I collected stories. Folktales, fairytales, history and the odd circumstances of life that people dispersed during wayward conversation. And then there were the languages... Spanish, Russian, Chinese... a smattering of French and enough Arabic to insult a man (what can I say? I had fun friends with diverse backgrounds and fierce senses of humor). I collected every story in every language that I could.

After college I had a real job (not the collection of temp positions and summer work during my college years: cave tour guide, belt counter, mortgage filer, line worker for Godiva and Campbell, educational director at a private zoo). It provided nearly real money so my collecting changed. I collected things I thought would better define me as the "class" I hoped to fit into more comfortably. I had Swarovski figurines, pearls and amber in both red and royal.

But the beauty of those small riches did nothing more to define who I really was then, nor what I am today. They were nice with their glitter and gloss, but not ME. I was the teacher dealing with the brilliant thugs and broken dreamers. What good did paltry shows of money do in reality when you worked every day with kids kicked out of their trailer homes so their mama's new lover had a place for his illegitimate offspring? The Swarovski seemed cold, the amber lost its shine.

Don't get me wrong--I still hosted wine-tastings and traveled, but it meant increasingly less when I stared down such bleak reality day in and day out. Then I moved back north to be closer to "family."

My Swarovski and amber are still packed away in a box or two somewhere. I have no great urge to pull them out and display them.

So you may ask: Are you still a collector?

Oh, yes. I most certainly am. But now my collection is far less tangible. Yes, now I collect words on my way to collecting knowledge. You see, I was one of the "disenfranchised" youth. Powerless in my own society. I was not a member of a recognized minority, yet I took the brunt of the harassment in middle school as any African American in an all white school might have. Actually, I knew that kid in my school and he was treated with more respect than I rated.

But early on I heard that elusive promise: "Knowledge is power." And so I wanted to know it all.

From odd jobs most would scoff at to strange sayings that made the most sense in foreign languages--I sucked it all up. I read, I wrote, I explored multiple art and craft forms.

Now I still collect words like "abacot" (a word that may or may not exist) and "alexipharmic" on my way to hopefully finding "ataraxy" ;-). I still collect information. Some "useless" (or so some jokingly may say) but all fascinating and usable in the right context. For example, tomorrow I'm making a tarte tatin and will tell my guests the story of the French women and their flirting which supposedly caused it to be created in its most accepted form. Perhaps I'll write a short story about its legendary beginnings eventually.

My collections have changed, as I hope I have changed and grown. Personally, I look forward to many more years of collecting words and stories.... And hopefully using them wisely to craft my own true knowledge and better define myself and my small contribution to society.

Write on! ;-)
~Saoirse

Me and My Sporadic Lifestyle

2007-09-13T10:55:00.000-04:00

My son's in the background suggesting I make pancakes, my surprise overnight guest has now departed, the animals are fed and I've sprawled some work out on the dining room table (my not-so-secret-sin when my husband leaves for his work ;-). I'm on my second cup of coffee--the cold snap following two days of rain signaled coyote activity last night.

They howled, I got up and checked the livestock. I crawled back in bed and they howled from a closer location. Back and forth we went, I throwing on pants boots and grabbing the flashlight (no gun necessary yet--they aren't quite so bold until nearer winter (I hope). They woke me 3 times last night. My son (with occasional night terrors and growth spurts) woke me 4 times.

I apologize for not getting everybody's comments posted in a timely manner, I've been busy. I really do appreciate everyone's comments. They brighten my days. :-)

So, other than coyote stuff, what has kept me away from my blog? RESEARCH. This gets me every so often. It seems when I get stressed, I get an undeniable urge to learn something new. This can be good, as one of my sisters-in-law says, "You can talk about anything with anybody. You're so smart." Eh. It might be more helpful if I didn't occasional sink into definite times of absolutely antisocial behavior, I guess ;-) . Or if I got invited to more social events, I guess :p . So, anyhow...

I now have about 200 index cards filled with facts (and a handful of speculations) regarding a historically-based situation that (if handled well) could lend itself to a cool romance or a trilogy of YA books. The characters are neat enough without me tweaking them too much (truth often being stranger than fiction) but the occasional "legends" that arose around them have messed up the timeline. Different sources disagree on when certain things happened. Some disagree on WHAT happened. So I guess I'll be going back to the earliest documents I can find without traveling more than 2000 miles to a far warmer climate. Thank goodness for the internet and public domain resources ;-) . Maybe I'll put my research to good use for NaNoWriMo.

I'm a bit bummed out that I don't have "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills" finished and published yet... There's an event I'm going to as my "real name" that it would be gobbled up at. I just need to get it done and see what happens, I guess. I'd really like a release date in September/October for "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills" because of the last chapters. Hmm... Maybe I'll get lucky (if I can get it done pretty fast...). Next year's supposed to be a good one for us "rats" anyway...

Ok, I'm officially rambling and my son's running naked in my kitchen.

Gotta' go (before he does ;-) !
~Saoirse

Sunday Scribblings Prompt: Writing

2007-09-07T08:03:00.000-04:00

The good folks at Sunday Scribblings want to know what we think of when we think of writing or when we write. Hmm...

There was a time I didn't think when writing, I simply poured. Words fell out of my pens and off of my pencils then and I indulged in stream of consciousness writing. Raw and unbridled, my emotions lay exposed on the pages of a cheap hardcover journal. When I didn't write my heart out (I was a teen, after all, so writing my heart out was frequently necessary then) I wrote fan fiction, learning the basics of characterization and plot using other people's works.

I wrote through my teen angst and through my youthful imagination. My own characters and body of work started to grow out of those moments of childhood (and often childish) writing. I won publication when I was still a child. It opened a realm of possibilities to me. Suddenly I knew there was a bigger venue possible. Perhaps my words and thoughts wouldn't simply stagnate on a page with premade lines--perhaps they'd go further and be shared with others.

So I tried writing for others. It didn't work. If I tried writing to suit someone else's needs, it felt hollow to me. Cheap. I struggled to find a balance. Sometimes I stopped writing (but never for long because it tugged at my mind, paper and pen beckoning and teasing long before I could afford a computer). Whenever I would begin again, my mood lightened (even when writing on dark topics) and I felt almost unfettered.

Writing got me through my grandmother's sudden illness, my teen struggles with identity and peers, and most recently--Writing got me through the early death of my mother. When I could do nothing but be there, I could still find security in the fact that my stories (Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills and others) were waiting... Controllable in their own reassuring ways.

Life throws conflicts at us constantly, sometimes we expect them, other times they're so much more than we could dare expect. In writing we control the conflicts. We throw them at our characters and watch them grow despite the struggle. In writing, we are all gods for as long as the pen or pencil touches paper or our fingers coax something from a keyboard. The tools change, the stories change, but our power is at least a constant in the realm of our own wordcraft. So write!

Much love!
~Saoirse

Tangent Alert: Why the Word is Late Today...

2007-09-06T13:16:00.000-04:00

And now for something completely different... ;-)

Yesterday afternoon I got an editing test from an online publisher. I went through it with as fine-toothed a comb as I have ;-) and sent it back to them just a little while ago. I'm not sure how quickly I'll get results, but I am curious. The text was around 5 pages in length and definitely had some rough patches and issues. I used Microsoft Word with its "track changes" and "comment" abilities (which, frankly, were a bit new to me). There were moments I felt more like a ghostwriter than a proofreader or editor. I guess that's something I'd need to rein back in (for the sake of time constraints, if for no other reason).

So, what's the worst that can come out of this? Theoretically I may have just alienated whatever writer created the text (gosh, I hope it wasn't an early submission from any of their staff). Other than that, I learned to use some new tools, faced another fear, and hopefully will wind up with a cool title, more freelance work, and involvement with an interesting group of people with somewhat similar interests. At least I've gained a little more experience in this genre. ;-)

That's why the Romance Writer's Word of the Day is late today... Apologies!
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 9/5/07

2007-09-05T08:18:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

flagitious.

Flagitious [fluh-zhish-uss] is an adjective meaning "shamefully wicked or cruel; nearly criminal."

Here's a sentence:
His face was angelic, but his slowly spreading grin was nothing if not flagitious.

Have a great day!
~Saoirse

Another Prompt...

2007-09-05T07:27:00.000-04:00

In our materialistic world, what we own is often as important as what we are. This, however, isn't a really new "trend" as tribes in Africa (and other traditional peoples) have often equated personal value to personal wealth.

So, here's the question: What accessory might one of your characters have that they would NEVER be without? How does it define their attitude and personality?

For example: My Tam Lin wouldn't be without the small silver bell that hangs around his neck on a leather thong. It was a gift from childhood and one of the few things that allows him to still feel a bond with the mortal realm. I'll let you draw initial conclusions about him since he is never without the bell...

So, what might you write or detail about one of your characters--or yourself?
~Saoirse

Tangent Alert: Ugh. Morning.

2007-09-05T05:43:00.000-04:00

Okay, so this is what I get, I guess, after complaining yesterday about having to wake up at 6am. Yes, if there's anything worse than getting up at 6am to help the hubby start the school year, this has got to be it. 5am.

Coffee's made (hallelujah), lunch is packed and hubby's had a decent breakfast and is out the door. Me? I'm contemplating falling back into bed (I had a very late night last night researching). I haven't had any coffee yet, so sleep might work...

*yawn*
Back with the "Word" soon,
~Saoirse

Be Prompt! The First in an Off and On Series of Writing Prompts

2007-09-04T11:33:00.001-04:00

I believe prompts are best if they just get you to think about things a little differently. They can help your brain percolate any number of ideas, hopefully creating something worthwhile as a result.

We'll start this one with a picture...

Consider how any body art OR unique body features of your hero or heroine make people react when first seeing them. Does your hero dress and act like a stockbroker but have a mysterious prison tattoo underneath it all? Does your Goth heroine have a penchant for voting Republican and attending church regularly? Does your baby boomer heroine have a heart so young she rivals her grandchildren's exploits?

When the people around them realize the difference between how they look and how they act (or the appropriateness of it) how do they react? Do they take it all in stride or do they worry that if this is what the person's really like, maybe they don't know them after all?

What do you think?
~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 9/4/07

2007-09-04T09:25:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

Okay, okay, this word might work even better in fantasy writing, it just sounds fantastic... But considering the currently melding of fantasy and romance, I thought we'd use it here today (and I used it in my Story Sample (answering a Sunday Scribblings prompt) here. So...

Widdershins [widd-er-shins] is an adverb meaning "in a counterclockwise direction."

Find my sample sentence (5th paragraph) here. Also, as a note, when writing fantasy that includes magic/k, understand that direction is mighty important. When something travels "widdershins" it foreshadows the idea that a good spell (like Jennet's circle of protection) may be undone by dangerous forces. I hope that makes sense to you.

Take care!
~Saoirse

Tangent Alert: Escapism

2007-09-04T06:57:00.000-04:00

I'm here trying to pry my eyes open this morning--my instant cappuccino close at hand... I wish mine was as pretty as that one above, but mine's in a nearly olive green mug, no saucer, no elegant swirl of foam.

But then, this--waking at 6 to see the hubby off to his first day back at school (other than the obligatory summer work days when he could go in later), flipping on the "god light" (so-named because it shines blindingly bright) because a chicken made an odd noise...

Yes, this is my current reality. Do I love it? Eh. I love aspects of it. I love being so close to the earth, even though it means I'll be going out and graining the livestock soon. I love knowing the veggies grown in my garden are organic and I didn't have to pay an arm and a leg to get them. I love knowing the assorted livestock I raise is respected and treated to pasture and fresh dandelion greens and treated well up until it's on my plate (tho' it's respected even there). I love the tiny nook of a valley we're nestled in and the way the mist has to peel off the mountaintops each morning. I love that my son is learning so much about life's value. So I get up early and I do the stuff a homesteader generally does, and sometimes I escape doing those things (and bigger issues) here.

I think that's what makes blogging so attractive. Escape. Let's face it, considering what we're inundated with in the paper and on the news, can we blame anyone (or dare we judge anyone) for wanting some escape? Think back to earlier days in romance publishing--days when women were struggling more openly for any shred of equality they could. Was it any wonder they would escape into a book men viewed as paltry?

Any big surprise that the hero then would be a strapping alpha male who, though messed up, could be changed eventually into something fabulous? Are we not now seeing such trends on the upswing again? The alpha male (the powerful and potent protector) seems to be making a comeback in romances. And why not?

Our military is still in a war that's dragging out too long, the housing market's not doing so well (the economy's soft), gas prices are gougingly high and our President's still insisting he's right about everything. In contrast, we want a legitimate alpha male who can be changed (which requires knowing he was wrong) and sweep us off our feet. No big surprise that romance is hot today. So yes, I'll take escape--my mental vacation--any day gladly.

Hope you're enjoy a bit of a mental vacation being here--no more words on war or reality (outside of publishing) for a while ;-).

Take care!
~Saoirse
PS--Poll at the bottom of the page--which of those classics have you read?

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 9/2/07

2007-09-03T08:28:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

Braggadocio [brahg-uh-DOH-shee-oh] is a noun meaning "a person who brags; braggart; open boasting; a bold and swaggering manner."

So here's a sentence:
He never seemed able to speak without braggadocio.

Have a great Labor Day!
~Saoirse

2007-09-02T22:12:00.000-04:00

Sunday Scribblings Prompt: The End

2007-08-31T23:47:00.000-04:00

This week's Sunday Scribblings' prompt was "The End." So, drawing form my work in progress (Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills) I worked towards that end ;-)

She held him, panting, her eyes finally closed against the horrors she had just witnessed.

He shivered in her arms, naked beneath the emerald green mantle she threw over him. His skin was tight and hot--fevered--she suspected; it slid tautly across muscles still bunched in anticipation. She opened her eyes, drinking in the sight of him. Mortal, vulnerable. Rescued. “Shhh,” she cooed, a finger pulling the sweat-soaked hair back from his glowing and narrowed eyes. “Tam Lin...”

He quaked at her words, and his lips twisted in a pained smile. The eerie glow left his eyes. “No,” he whispered. “Not Tam Lin—Thomas.”

Jennet grinned. It was over. The battle was won, her lover was freed. Surely their troubles were at an end and tomorrow they would be wed and greet a life filled with grand beginnings. Jennet had never thought how much joy an end could bring...

But it seemed one end was not enough. Indeed, it seemed that Jennet had reached another end, the end of the Dark Queen’s patience. The Queen’s voice broke through her reverie, sharp as newly broken glass. “You have taken my Tam Lin, girl. Stolen what was yet mine.” Her steed stamped a golden hoof, sparks glittering across the scattered flagstone of the old Roman road. Leaves skittered across the ground making noises like tiny scraping claws before they began to swirl around Jennet’s circle, widdershins.

Jennet hissed, crouching above the still prone form of Thomas, protective as a mother wolf. She had not forgotten the danger that stood just at the edge of her carefully warded circle—how could she when the eyes of all the ambassadors of the Realm stood glittering and glaring down at her frail mortal form nearly draped (with no great grace or forethought for propriety or aesthetics, she knew) over a newly mortal man. Yes, such disapproving eyes were hard to forget.

She stood, pulling herself to her full height—damnably diminutive when faced with the long slender elves and graceful fae. But such thoughts merely gave her a fiercer determination. “He was never yours,” she said, biting each word off crisply. “And he never shall be again.” Her chin jutted out with newfound arrogance.

She deserved a bit of arrogance, didn’t she? After all, she had just wrestled the Dark Queen’s favorite chew toy from her icy grasp... Her circle flared--and flickered. The dark and drifting things (which defied explanation from all Jennet knew of myth, legend and religion) at the edge of her circle rolled closer. Jennet blinked. Not now, she willed, digging her toes into the ground and connecting with the earth, the root of her blossoming powers. The circle glowed a cool blue, and steadied.

The faeries took a respectful step back.

The Dark Queen raised an elegantly shaped eyebrow, nonplussed by a show of mortal power. “He was mine in more ways than you can imagine, little one,” she purred. “He was marked...”

“What? This old thing?” Jennet asked defiantly, slipped a toe beneath the serpent-shaped brooch and flipping it across the boundary that held she and Thomas safe.

The Queen snarled.

“I marked him first,” Jennet declared, grabbing Thomas by the shoulders and pulling him to a kneeling position before the whole of the Unseelie Court. Around his neck the leather lacing still hung, and at its center the silver bell winked boldly.

The Queen shrieked her rage and raised a quivering hand towards the pair, eyes glowing bright as hellfire....

Sorry, I can't really do the end, like "The End," you know? And yes, this is rough, and yes, I'd probably rework some parentheses so they'd disappear into the story, but hey. ;-)

Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless...

~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 8/31/07

2007-08-31T08:40:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

sybarite.

Sybarite [SIB-uh-rite] is a noun meaning "a person devoted to pleasure and luxury."

Here's a sentence:
She sighed, just looking at the extravagantly decorated silver tray stacked high with delicate pastries. Surely her unnamed sponsor was quite the sybarite.

Have a great weekend!
~Saoirse

One More Handy Site on Publishers...

2007-08-30T10:59:00.001-04:00

Ok, I REALLY need to get some work done, but instead I'm just strolling the web... Here's a site by author Piers Anthony (you may know him if you've read fantasy or sci-fi--Remember the Xanth series?). He started a "survey" (more like an alphabetical database) of publishers with focus on internet publishing houses. He summarizes what he knows of each (having used some "stool pigeons";-) who let him know about their personal experiences with different publishers.

Frankly, it's like a "Better Business Bureau" site of ebook publishers :-). Cool :-)

So, when you're done figuring out your "short list" of who you'll submit your story to, you may want to look them up here (there's an alphabet so you can hop about 1/3 down the page, I think) and see if they seem kosher.

Hope it helps!
~Saoirse

Something I Just spotted and Wanted to Share...

2007-08-30T10:06:00.000-04:00

This site, The Passionate Pen, lists publishers of romances, from the traditionals (like Avon and Harlequin) to ebook publishers, etc.

Each listing includes links to the company's site or their submission guides. Woo-hoo! You don't need to be an RWA member to check out this database and you don't need to buy a book. Cool!

So, take a gander at the Passionate Pen's site and maybe you can find a publisher (or three) to look at your work...

~Saoirse

Update, update! I just found a few supposed Romance Publishers not at The Passionate Pen. As always, do your homework to find who or what works best for you as a potential publishing house. But here are a few places to also look...

ArcheBooks Publishing --agented authors only!

Arrow Publications, LLC -- romance stories in graphic novel format.

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 8/30/07

2007-08-30T07:30:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

vainglory.

Vainglory [VANE-glor-ee] is a noun meaning "pride to the point of vanity" or "a showy display."

Here's a sentence for you:

With a flourish of his sword, McGovern made a deep bow to the ladies in the crowd, just as MacDougal's sword point jabbed into his opponent's rear--ending McGovern's vainglory when he yelped his surprise.

Yes, it's an awkward sentence. I wanted something sort of humorous, but I'm not happy with it as it stands. Anyhow... Do you have a character who'd fall victim to a vainglorious action?

~Saoirse

Thought for the Day 8/30/07

2007-08-30T07:04:00.000-04:00

Here's a thought for you...

"Perfect Love casts out Prudery together with Fear."
-Richard Garnett

What do you think, does Love make people bold--fearless? Does it make lovers less likely to be "prudes?" ;-)

Personally, I'd never dare say the love my hubby and I share is "perfect" (can anything really be perfect, after all?) but knowing I've got someone in my "corner" has emboldened me (sometimes to hubby's chagrin ;-) . And no, we're not nearly so prudish as we (okay, okay, as I) used to be. ;-)

~Saoirse

Romance Writer's Word of the Day 8/29/07

2007-08-29T07:30:00.000-04:00

Today's Romance Writer's Word of the Day is:

boulevardier.

Boulevardier [boo-leh-var-DYEY] is a noun meaning " a man who often wanders fashionable areas and is socially sophisticated; a man-about-town (most often Parisian)."

Here's a sentence:
He seemed quite out of place in the cramped bookstore, looking as if this handsome boulevardier had wandered too far from the bright lights of the Champs-Elysées.

What sentence might you use the word in?
~Saoirse

Thought for the Day 8/29/07

2007-08-29T07:22:00.000-04:00

Here's a thought for you to chuckle at...

"God is Love, I dare say, but what a mischievous devil Love is."
-by Samuel Butler

What other quotes or anecdotes have you run into that show the way an emotion opposes its own nature?

~Saoirse

New Poll Below

2007-08-28T09:26:00.000-04:00

There's a new poll posted near the page's bottom. It's a quick one, and it's just there because I'm curious (and feel guilty that I haven't read much of the classics in this genre). It's not a complete list (by any means) of classic romances, and please, if you would recommend a classic romance (even not one listed) you read to others, please leave a comment about which and why.

Thanks a bunch!
~Saoirse

First Poll's Results...

2007-08-24T15:14:00.000-04:00

A while ago (when we were first able to do polls here) I hosted one. I was quite proud to get 8 participants (I prefer quality participation to quantity anytime and if you're participating, surely you're of high quality :-). Anyhow, the poll was:

What is Most Important in a Good Book?

The options I gave (and votes gotten in return) were:

Characters I can personally relate to. ...........................2
Intriguing setting. ...........................................................1
Conflict and resolution. ..................................................1
Strong plot construction. ...............................................4
Tension. ..........................................................................2
Hooks and cliffhangers. ..................................................1
Romance and passion. ....................................................1
Twists and turns. ............................................................1
Ability for me to escape into the story completely. .......3
All are equally necessary. ...............................................1

*You may have noticed--"Hey--that adds up to more than 8!" Yup. People were allowed to vote on more than 1. Makes for funky math, but interesting results anyway.

I'll be putting up new polls (at the page's bottom) every once in a while. I hope you can participate :-)
~Saoirse

Word Count

2007-08-23T14:49:00.000-04:00

Today I wrote 686 words in my "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills" novel. It's an early scene between Jennet and Thomas, happening about ten years before the novel's main action. I think I'll use it, but I'm not sure yet. I like it, but I've got to figure out how it fits in best. Possibly in flashback--but I don't want to get carried away with that particular thing ;-).

What do you worry about having too much of in something you write? Is there any literary device you worry you use too often?

Are YOU writing? What?
~Saoirse

Easing Back in to Blogging...Tangent Alert!

2007-08-21T10:21:00.000-04:00

I've actually been getting some work done on "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills" (I need to update my word counts) as well as other projects.

Our Highland Cattle arrived Friday (Tracy a pregnant cow with bull calf at her side, Seamus a white 17 month old bull, Brigit a red 17 month old heifer). I'm still perturbed at the guy we bought them from--the bull calf was cut up from a tangle with barbed wire (my only guess) and the guy didn't treat him. Tracy's too skittish (and motherly) to let me near him to treat the wounds and I'm just hoping her attention and the cool weather will keep the flies at bay. The previous owner said if the calf dies he'll refund our money. Then he said he'd let us have a different bull calf instead. Ugh. I'm just glad I don't need to deal with that guy again (I hope).

So the cows are in a pasture that stretches into an old apple orchard on the property. Apples are dropping early this year (because of this freakish cold snap) and the cows are eating their fill!

We just got the Jacob sheep's new pasture fenced, so I need to move them today. They seem to be doing pretty well (had quite a scare with one of them a week or so ago now).

Acquired two mutt-ducks (Charlie and Matilda) and three African Geese (two boys, 1 girl), and 5 pigeons (3 girls, 2 boys). This place is starting to fill out as a nearly-respectable farm.

Trying to get together with Deb and her pal, Robin, to do some writing exchanges, but our schedules aren't meshing so well. Deb's working on her first novel (paranormal romance) and Robin's trying her hand at a YA. I think I'll have them scope out "Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills" but I have several other projects that could use an editor's eye, too... I guess it's a moot issue until we can actually arrange to meet ;-).

I'm doing some "writing for money" type stuff right now (noticing a need coming up--the holidays are coming too fast!). Ah well... Sara had a post about who you write for here--Aspiring Romance Writer. Check it out!

I'll be back with Romance Writer's Word of the Day starting again next week...

Take care!
~Saoirse

Sunday Scribblings Prompt: Dear Diary

2007-08-18T09:50:00.000-04:00

Ok, so my novel-in-progress (Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills) wasn't initially intended to include diary or journal entries, but reading "The Secret Diaries of Miss Miranda Cheevers" by Julia Quinn and seeing this Sunday Scribblings prompt, I thought: Eh, let's give it a try... ;-)

So here's something Jennet might write if given a journal to fill...Please note, this isn't truly in her "voice" as I'm rushing to do this before I trot off to the gallery and I usually rewrite things to get the voice in the period I'm writing (especially when my hubby's watching Spongebob in the same room). Ugh ;-)

Anyhow...

Today I told Thomas I love him.

I waited until our game was over --I let him win--and then I said it. It was easy, really. Just three little words. He jumped up like I burned him. He just gawked at me.

I think that was when I stopped breathing. I could see the lump in his throat as he swallowed. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He stood there, suddenly mute. Stunned beyond comprehension.

I started breathing again, but I burned beneath a blush. He made some lame excuse and raced off. Something about meeting his grandfather for hunting. I stared after him for the longest time.

I know he feels something for me, there's a magic in his kiss. I mean, we've been friends forever, and he's shown he likes me more than other girls.

Maybe he just doesn't love me... Marion says boys do that sometimes. They do one thing and mean another. They get frightened at the oddest things. They can corner the biggest buck in the forest with only one arrow left, but they can't talk about their feelings.

She said boys do that all the time. I tried to explain that Thomas isn't a boy, but she glared at me. I guess his failure to tell me what he feels relegates him to boyhood. I think that means there are a lot more boys out there than I ever imagined.

So that's my answer to this week's prompt. Hope you enjoyed it at least a little! And yes, the Highland Cattle are finally here, the African Geese broke loose this morning, so I was scared the cattle were out, too. Thank God that wasn't the case! The geese are hanging out at another watering hole on the property (where the Jacob sheep will be moved soon enough). We just don't care to chase them and hope they'll settle there happily until we get the rest enclosed.

Have a great weekend!
~Saoirse

Just a Quick Post...

2007-08-14T21:41:00.000-04:00

If you enjoy history, Georgian or Regency romances, or just odd stuff people used to own or people collect now...

Anyhow, here's a site you might enjoy.

Candice Hern's Collections. Candice is a romance novelist and a collector of intriguing things. Just skimming her collection of "Lovers' Eyes" I feel like I've learned something uniquely precious. But then, I am a nerd ;-) . Go, enjoy...

...Learn!
~Saoirse

Off for a Couple Weeks...

2007-07-31T22:46:00.000-04:00

Hey... I've got a bunch of writing and other things to get done (as well as travel) over the next couple weeks. Everything from seeing the Tut exhibit in Philly to getting my dog's rabies shots updated and prepping for Highland cattle and preparing for a big event in October.

So, as I'll be on the road and back and forth A LOT during that time, I'll apologize now for my temporary absence.

I'll be back in the swing of things by August 24, so please check back around then.

Take care!
~Saoirse

Visual Thesaurus online...

2007-07-30T10:20:00.001-04:00

Cool site to mess with! You only get to do five things on it (as the "try it"), but this is totally mental-mapping of vocabulary. Neat-o!

http://www.visualthesaurus.com/

Fun, huh?
~S.