I don't know if it's just me or if everyone who enjoys writing has a hundred stories developing inside their heads constantly. I roughly plotted three novels in the shower this morning. Not to mention all the 'fixes' that I think reworking in my novel in progress every night as I try to fall asleep. Sadly I usually forget half of them by morning.
My problem is, I need quiet, uninterupted time to sit and write. An hour a day slowly chips away at the monstrous task of editing, but it feels like I'm barely inching along. While the kids are having their naps I grab myself some water, put on some 'writing' music and have at 'er. Sadly in what feels like five minutes I hear the dreaded call from down the hall...'Can we get up now?' /sigh...my time is up.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Books by Michelle Moran
This past week I've spent the majority of my time reading books by Michelle Moran. While I was desperatly trying to find out the possible release date of Justin Cronins next book I stumbled onto a book review website and got caught up with the descriptions of her novels and had to buy them.
I wouldn't neccesarily classify them as YA (the plots, character names, theme of the books etc, are for a more mature audience) but they are good crossovers. The characters in all three books are based on famous historical women, Mutnodjmet (Nefertiti), Nefertari (The Heretic Queen), and Kleopatra Selene (Cleopatra's Daughter)
Nefertiti has always been of interest to me and I really enjoyed the research and detail that Michelle Moran dedicated to this book. The main character in this novel is Nefertiti's sister and the relationship that develops between them is both realistic and disturbing.
The second novel The Heretic Queen was the one that pulled me in right from the start and had me sitting up until all hours of the night. Nefertari is a sympathetic character and one that remains easy to identify with regardless of the fact she's an egyptian princess.
Cleopatra's Daughter has been the hardest one for me to really get passionate about. The politics and overwhelming number of characters and their relationships to one another are almost impossible to follow. The story is engaging, but slower paced, sometimes getting lost in all the details about Rome.
Overall I really enjoy her writing style and the amount research that's evident in her novels. I will definately be picking up her newest novel Madame Tussaud when it comes out next spring.
I wouldn't neccesarily classify them as YA (the plots, character names, theme of the books etc, are for a more mature audience) but they are good crossovers. The characters in all three books are based on famous historical women, Mutnodjmet (Nefertiti), Nefertari (The Heretic Queen), and Kleopatra Selene (Cleopatra's Daughter)
Nefertiti has always been of interest to me and I really enjoyed the research and detail that Michelle Moran dedicated to this book. The main character in this novel is Nefertiti's sister and the relationship that develops between them is both realistic and disturbing.
The second novel The Heretic Queen was the one that pulled me in right from the start and had me sitting up until all hours of the night. Nefertari is a sympathetic character and one that remains easy to identify with regardless of the fact she's an egyptian princess.
Cleopatra's Daughter has been the hardest one for me to really get passionate about. The politics and overwhelming number of characters and their relationships to one another are almost impossible to follow. The story is engaging, but slower paced, sometimes getting lost in all the details about Rome.
Overall I really enjoy her writing style and the amount research that's evident in her novels. I will definately be picking up her newest novel Madame Tussaud when it comes out next spring.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Excerpt from: The Stone Sleepers
Come to me...
The velvety tone of the young man’s voice resonated through my body, compelling me to do as he commanded. “Where are you?” I asked. The comforting smell of fresh linen disappeared, replaced by the cool crispness of the outdoors. Another dream. Once more, I was in the forest. Filtered moonlight shot through the eerie mist hovering over the damp ground.
Come to me...
The voice was internal, but my head whipped to the left and my feet shot forward, instinctually following the source.
WHAM!
“Oh snap, sleepwalking fail.” The unnatural quiet of the forest was interrupted by Raines voice. The muted sounds of old school Green Day floated in, as I woke up.
I was laid out on the bleached hardwood floor of the guest house, staring up through skylights that hinted at early morning. Raine was at the stove in the kitchen, doubled over from laughter so far her ebony waves swept the ground.
“I can’t believe you let me walk into that wall, just so you could laugh at me,” I grumbled. “You are a bad friend.”
“Lies! I’m a great friend. Plus you’re stuck with me, since no one in your sticksville town gets you like I do. And in all fairness, I had no idea you were going to clobber yourself.”
“You probably live in the smallest town in Canada and you’re accusing me of being from sticksville?”
“Hey I never said I wasn’t, but at least I can stay with my dad in the city whenever I need some retail therapy.”
I tried steering the conversation back on track. “Did you try waking me up when I came out of the bedroom?”
Raine shook her head. “I didn’t know you were still sleeping, until you sprinted into the wall so hard you knocked yourself on your ass.” She started laughing again.
I picked myself off the floor, probing the goose-egg forming above my left eyebrow. I cursed. This was our sixth night in London, and the fourth night in a row I hadn’t woken up in my bed.
Raine managed to cut herself off mid-chuckle, to scramble something delicious smelling on the back burner. “Were you dreaming about your forest dude again?”
“Yeah, and it’s getting pretty intense,” I said. “First it was just the voice, but now I’m getting some major visuals, and I can smell the forest. It’s like, I need to find him.”
“I think you cracked your melon a little too hard this time.” She walked over, waving a hand spastically an inch from my face. “How many fingers do you see?”
Rolling my eyes, I brushed her hand away and headed to the bedroom to exchange loose fitting flannel pants and oversized t-shirt for some equally loose fitting cargo pants and a tank.
Reaching for my brush on the dresser, I paused, seeing the crumpled letter from my father –or as Raine liked to call him, the sperm donor. I refused to let the gift of this trip make up for the fact he hadn’t shown his face once, in the entirety of my life so far. Seriously, would it have hurt him to pick up the phone and say ‘hello’?
I swept aside the note, and set about ridding myself of a nasty case of bed-head. I was just securing my last braid when Dexter’s voice came through the door.
“Morgan, are you decent?”
“Mhmm,” I mumbled around a mouth full of hairpins, “come in.”
My newly acquired cousin opened the door, but didn’t cross the threshold. “Your mum called up to the main house, said she tried ringing you but couldn’t get through.” He ran a hand through his sandy blonde locks, shooting uncomfortable looks around the room.
I couldn’t blame him. It looked like a bomb had gone off. The entirety of Raines underwear collection dangled from a pedestal on her footboard, and clothes hung out of half closed drawers in both dressers. Makeup, hair products, and styling tools covered every square inch of counter space in the room, and a collection of multi color shoes sat in a pile by his feet. Blankets lay on the floor in a snowy heap of twisted linen, where I had dumped them before taking my header into the wall.
I hooked a toe under the strap on my backpack and pulled it over, while placing a pageboy cap over my strawberry blonde plaits. Digging around inside the pack I found my phone, wincing at the empty power bar. “My cell’s out of juice. I’ll charge it and give her a shout when we get back.” I threw my passport, lotion and a hoodie into my bag and zipped it back up, then plugged my phone into the charger.
Dex finally managed to drag his gaze away from the chaos of our room. His brows shot up as he noticed the welt on my forehead. “Sleepwalking again, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I sighed.
The velvety tone of the young man’s voice resonated through my body, compelling me to do as he commanded. “Where are you?” I asked. The comforting smell of fresh linen disappeared, replaced by the cool crispness of the outdoors. Another dream. Once more, I was in the forest. Filtered moonlight shot through the eerie mist hovering over the damp ground.
Come to me...
The voice was internal, but my head whipped to the left and my feet shot forward, instinctually following the source.
WHAM!
“Oh snap, sleepwalking fail.” The unnatural quiet of the forest was interrupted by Raines voice. The muted sounds of old school Green Day floated in, as I woke up.
I was laid out on the bleached hardwood floor of the guest house, staring up through skylights that hinted at early morning. Raine was at the stove in the kitchen, doubled over from laughter so far her ebony waves swept the ground.
“I can’t believe you let me walk into that wall, just so you could laugh at me,” I grumbled. “You are a bad friend.”
“Lies! I’m a great friend. Plus you’re stuck with me, since no one in your sticksville town gets you like I do. And in all fairness, I had no idea you were going to clobber yourself.”
“You probably live in the smallest town in Canada and you’re accusing me of being from sticksville?”
“Hey I never said I wasn’t, but at least I can stay with my dad in the city whenever I need some retail therapy.”
I tried steering the conversation back on track. “Did you try waking me up when I came out of the bedroom?”
Raine shook her head. “I didn’t know you were still sleeping, until you sprinted into the wall so hard you knocked yourself on your ass.” She started laughing again.
I picked myself off the floor, probing the goose-egg forming above my left eyebrow. I cursed. This was our sixth night in London, and the fourth night in a row I hadn’t woken up in my bed.
Raine managed to cut herself off mid-chuckle, to scramble something delicious smelling on the back burner. “Were you dreaming about your forest dude again?”
“Yeah, and it’s getting pretty intense,” I said. “First it was just the voice, but now I’m getting some major visuals, and I can smell the forest. It’s like, I need to find him.”
“I think you cracked your melon a little too hard this time.” She walked over, waving a hand spastically an inch from my face. “How many fingers do you see?”
Rolling my eyes, I brushed her hand away and headed to the bedroom to exchange loose fitting flannel pants and oversized t-shirt for some equally loose fitting cargo pants and a tank.
Reaching for my brush on the dresser, I paused, seeing the crumpled letter from my father –or as Raine liked to call him, the sperm donor. I refused to let the gift of this trip make up for the fact he hadn’t shown his face once, in the entirety of my life so far. Seriously, would it have hurt him to pick up the phone and say ‘hello’?
I swept aside the note, and set about ridding myself of a nasty case of bed-head. I was just securing my last braid when Dexter’s voice came through the door.
“Morgan, are you decent?”
“Mhmm,” I mumbled around a mouth full of hairpins, “come in.”
My newly acquired cousin opened the door, but didn’t cross the threshold. “Your mum called up to the main house, said she tried ringing you but couldn’t get through.” He ran a hand through his sandy blonde locks, shooting uncomfortable looks around the room.
I couldn’t blame him. It looked like a bomb had gone off. The entirety of Raines underwear collection dangled from a pedestal on her footboard, and clothes hung out of half closed drawers in both dressers. Makeup, hair products, and styling tools covered every square inch of counter space in the room, and a collection of multi color shoes sat in a pile by his feet. Blankets lay on the floor in a snowy heap of twisted linen, where I had dumped them before taking my header into the wall.
I hooked a toe under the strap on my backpack and pulled it over, while placing a pageboy cap over my strawberry blonde plaits. Digging around inside the pack I found my phone, wincing at the empty power bar. “My cell’s out of juice. I’ll charge it and give her a shout when we get back.” I threw my passport, lotion and a hoodie into my bag and zipped it back up, then plugged my phone into the charger.
Dex finally managed to drag his gaze away from the chaos of our room. His brows shot up as he noticed the welt on my forehead. “Sleepwalking again, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I sighed.
Summer's over, time to get back to work.
This has been one of the busiest summers I can remember. We found out my father in law has terminal lung cancer, so have been spending as much time as possible out at the lake with him and my mother in law.
There have been so many visitors and so many trips over the last few months. It's been hard, but also great in a way, to have the time to spend together as a family. We started the summer with a postponed trip to Drumheller and instead stayed in town to welcome aunts, uncles and cousins. In a non stop procession we've had something, or someone on the agenda every weekend. We finally made it to Drumheller this past weekend (following weekends in Calgary, and Glendon,) and we all had a great time.
Now that summer is winding down I find myself drawn back to having some sort of schedule. Time to work off all the extra weight put on by the constant pr essence of 'comfort food'. I've been trying to find a new groove, getting up and feeding the kids, working out while they eat and watch their morning cartoons, then a dedicated hour to cleaning while they play outside. I'm glad they still take naps so I can sit down with my writing and put some work into that. It's something that I think about every day, and berate myself over not finding time for.
Today I set aside the quiet that nap time brings, and worked on my book for over an hour, realizing how much I missed it. Strangely enough not five minutes after I saved and closed out for the day, a friend from my writing class last spring got in touch through facebook. Seems like an interesting and fortunate coincidence.
There have been so many visitors and so many trips over the last few months. It's been hard, but also great in a way, to have the time to spend together as a family. We started the summer with a postponed trip to Drumheller and instead stayed in town to welcome aunts, uncles and cousins. In a non stop procession we've had something, or someone on the agenda every weekend. We finally made it to Drumheller this past weekend (following weekends in Calgary, and Glendon,) and we all had a great time.
Now that summer is winding down I find myself drawn back to having some sort of schedule. Time to work off all the extra weight put on by the constant pr essence of 'comfort food'. I've been trying to find a new groove, getting up and feeding the kids, working out while they eat and watch their morning cartoons, then a dedicated hour to cleaning while they play outside. I'm glad they still take naps so I can sit down with my writing and put some work into that. It's something that I think about every day, and berate myself over not finding time for.
Today I set aside the quiet that nap time brings, and worked on my book for over an hour, realizing how much I missed it. Strangely enough not five minutes after I saved and closed out for the day, a friend from my writing class last spring got in touch through facebook. Seems like an interesting and fortunate coincidence.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Official first post
I came across a website with an 'are you ready to query' checklist. One of the things on that list was a blog. Something I never considered starting for myself. The main reason? I didn't think my life was interesting enough to write about. A quick update on facebook occasionaly is all well and good, but to actually sit down and write about what I do everyday didn't sound particularly thrilling.
Who cares about how many times I,
-stop the kids from killing each other.
-wipe a poopy butt.
-yell at the dog for barking at the neighbours.
...etc?
But after taking my writing workshop and getting some feedback from perfect strangers (who don't care if they hurt my feelings) I realized this might be a great place to post some of my work and get some critiques. In the end, anything that helps me refine my story is welcome.
On a side note, there is a reason I have an ungodly amount of books on my table right now. Half of them I used for a recent assignment (dealing with the first and last chapters of YA novels). As for the Kresley Cole books, I was out of new reads and heard I may enjoy devouring hers. After testing out the first one, I fell in love with the story line and bought (and read) the rest of them, they just haven't made it to a bookshelf yet because they are all triple packed, and I have no more room *sob*
Right now I'm working through Lynn Kurlands latest paperback, and even though I have Charlain Harris' new Sookie book on order, I broke down and bought the audiobook to listen to while I'm driving Saydee to puppy school on Wednesdays (six hour round trip, so a good audiobook come in handy). I still need to finish up the Pride and Predjudice and Zombies audiobook, but I'm near the end and it's starting to get a little stale.
Who cares about how many times I,
-stop the kids from killing each other.
-wipe a poopy butt.
-yell at the dog for barking at the neighbours.
...etc?
But after taking my writing workshop and getting some feedback from perfect strangers (who don't care if they hurt my feelings) I realized this might be a great place to post some of my work and get some critiques. In the end, anything that helps me refine my story is welcome.
On a side note, there is a reason I have an ungodly amount of books on my table right now. Half of them I used for a recent assignment (dealing with the first and last chapters of YA novels). As for the Kresley Cole books, I was out of new reads and heard I may enjoy devouring hers. After testing out the first one, I fell in love with the story line and bought (and read) the rest of them, they just haven't made it to a bookshelf yet because they are all triple packed, and I have no more room *sob*
Right now I'm working through Lynn Kurlands latest paperback, and even though I have Charlain Harris' new Sookie book on order, I broke down and bought the audiobook to listen to while I'm driving Saydee to puppy school on Wednesdays (six hour round trip, so a good audiobook come in handy). I still need to finish up the Pride and Predjudice and Zombies audiobook, but I'm near the end and it's starting to get a little stale.
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