I signed up for a contest on Elizabeth Boyle's website a couple months ago. Over the weekend I received a box full of goodies, including autographed cover flats (by both EB and other authors), a signed copy of Laura Lee Guhrke's She's No Princess, some pretty cards with a Regency motif and some sweets. It was a very pleasant surprise.

If you're into Regencies, I definitely suggest that you check out Elizabeth Boyle. She's so much fun to read! His Mistress by Morning (the first one of hers that I read) had such a neat twist. I loved it!

Cross posted to romancenovels

I am a mad plotting fiend! *bwahaha*

I think I like it that way.

I recently joined an RWA chapter for Regency writers. Many of the writers on this list are not only published, but are NAMES that I read a lot. It's both intimidating and inspiring.

One the one hand, these are Published Authors, so far above my touch that they seem mere ephemeral beings of light and words. On the other hand, the emails on the list are from Real People, full of questions and anecdotes and mundania.

I don't quite know how to react. I'm all aswirl. Now I just need to get my ass writing so I can get published and feel like I actually belong on the same email list as all these NAMES.

I haven't been posting (or writing) a lot the last week because work has been crazy busy and it saps the life from me. I've gotten out to lunch once this week.

This is really just an "I'm alive" post. Oh, I did start up my Thursday writing dates with a coworker again. Starting this coming Thursday. Yea for that!

I think I am seeing a pattern, if twice can constitute a pattern. Today I chucked what I'd written this week (into another file, so it's not lost forever) and started the novel over. It works soooo much better already. Today I've written twice what I wrote the last three days.

This is what happened with my NaNo novel, too. I wrote a beginning that was heavy going, didn't work, etc. Then I chucked it and started over and it flowed from there. Maybe I just need to get to know the characters a little before I know where their story should start.

Anyway. Two days in a row I've been late back from lunch 'cause I don't want to stop writing. I need to watch that. I told Himself yesterday that I wish I could win the lottery or get on Wheel of Fortune (I'm pretty good playing from home ;) and win enough money to take a year off from work so that I can write. He replied that getting fired for being late isn't the same thing as "taking a year off". Of course he said that with a smile, so I'll let it slide.

I wonder what it would be like to be a writer as a full-time profession. Did anyone see pubrants yesterday? She estimates (very ballparkishly) that most writers average four full manuscripts before writing the one that gets sold. Definite food for thought!

I love reading other author's blogs because it is entertaining and eductional for me to see what they're doing and how it's going, etc. And yet there are times when it totally wigs me out and I have a "oh, my gods, I suck, they're sooooo good, I'll never even finish this novel much let get it published, woe is me!" moment.

Right now is one of those moments. I've been following the trek of misia to get her latest book, Virgin: An Untouched History, written and then published. Today she posted a picture of the finished book with pretty cover, et al. And I spaz. Reading madrigalist, matociquala, shanna_s and laurabowers does the same thing to me.

I wanna be a good writer. I get feedback that says I am at least not bad, and yet I read their stuff and I realize HOW FAR I have to go to become a good writer.

OK - moment of self-pity over. (mostly ;)

I've started on my new novel. I'm quite excited. So far I've only been writing on my lunch hour, so I'm only a couple hundred words in. I've also been doing character sketches/plotting, so it's not all gone to the text itself. I figure next week I'll really begin to buckle down to make my daily word count goals.

Still, it feels AMAZING to be writing again. I'm loving it. I have learned so much since NaNo last year. I can already see places that I will have to revise heavily and I don't think my first chapter/sentence are at all grabbing enough, but it will come.

I'm wearing one of my favorite necklaces today. It's bigger than my normal jewelry. It's a pegasus that Himself bought for me at Ren Faire last year. When I started NaNo I hung this necklace up by my word count chart to remind me of Himself's support of me and my writing. I wear it from time to time to remind me not only of Himself's support, but of everyone who listens to me babble about writing, reads my stuff, asks me how its going or otherwise helps me on this journey.

I am a diehard Phan of the musical PotO. It's coming to the Kennedy Center in June. While I'll be in Alaska on vacation when it starts, it's staying long enough that I can get to see it again.

So far I've seen it in the following venues:
1st - Kennedy Center, Washington DC
2nd - Hippodrome, Baltimore
3rd - Majestic, New York

I want to see it at the following venues:
Las Vegas, US
London, England
Sydney, Australia
Essen, Germany

*does happy dance* If you're interested in coming, let me know. :D

I know I'm Posty McPostum today, but I wanted to share some goals I've finally verbalized. I was emailing back and forth with my brother today and this came out of our conversation.

I am aiming for 95,000 to 105,000 word Regency historical stand alone novel. I want to have the first draft done by the end of July. That's about 20,000 words a month, which I feel is very doable, and I want to begin submitting it to agents and/or publishers by December (my holiday gift to myself!).

So, the goal is set. I aim to start writing this weekend. If things go faster, swell, but I won't let myself dawdle.

Why Maureen Dowd Should Avoid Bookstores. It's all about the commercialism of publishing, but in a good, makes you think way. One paragraph that I really like:
In order for publishers to acquire “real” books and pay the authors something resembling reasonable advances, there must be money in the bank. Editors simply cannot afford to buy “dignified” books; there is a need to keep the lights on, you know. Also, little known secret: editors must eat at least once a week. This requires a paycheck that doesn’t bounce.

I want to remember that when I start trying to submit, but also as I write. Yes, I want to speak my Truths and explore varied themes in romance and the human experience, but I also want to be a selling author.

So one of my fellow students gave me some feedback to the effect of "I get lost in your modifiers". I have NO idea what the heck she meant by that. So I ask for clarification. Instead of clarification - i.e. she thinks there's too many, they're not appropriate, etc - I get "I wasn't being mean, I'm just honest and sometimes people misunderstand me."

I go "huh?" Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. I didn't say or even imply you were being mean. I just wanted you to elaborate so I could understand what the issue you were having is so I can fix it/tighten up my writing. Geez.

So, what now?

( Week 3's assignment )

I am not doing well with patience right now. There are seven people/fellow students (some who haven't turned in their homework yet) who have not yet left comments on my homework assignment. Don't they know that it's a horrible form of torture to make me wait for their comments? Don't they know that they're supposed to be waiting with bated breath for my assignment so that they may shower compliments on my writing?

*facepalm*

How am I going to survive getting to the finished manuscript part? Much less getting to the submitting part?

Don't I have an actual job I'm supposed to be doing right now? Oh, yeah. Meep.

Was horribly sick yesterday - some sort of flu bug. I thank Gods it seems to have been a 24 hr thing, though I'm still sneezing constantly. Between the icky feelings and drugs I was taking I did my homework for my writing class in half-hour increments. Read a couple paragraphs, take a nap. Do a writing sample, take a nap. It was not the best way I've ever found to write, but on going back and reading it this morning I am at least not humiliated by the writing I turned in. There are some places it could really be tightened up, and one place that I am having to force myself NOT to email the instructor and ask to change it (there's *one* word I want to change that would give it so much more punch!). But, all in all, respectable.

Still, Tylenol Cold is not going to be my drug of choice while writing.

Since madrigalist tagged me...

Each player of this game starts off with 10 weird things/habits/little known facts about yourself. People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 10 weird habits/things/little known facts as well as state this rule clearly. At the end you need to choose 10 people to be tagged and list their names.

1. When I was a kid I'd make up stories in my head and act them out in my bedroom after everyone else was asleep.
   
2. I sometimes wish that there would be some world-ending catastrophe so that I could help rebuild society and find out what I'm really made of (and yes, I have the disaster movie/book obsession to go along with this)
   
3. I wish I could get away with wearing a corset/long skirts in public and to work - not necessarily every day, but for when I'm in the mood
   
4. Most people think I'm confident, occasionally loud-mouthed and outgoing in company, but in reality I am horribly shy and insecure and convinced that people don't actually want me around (it sometimes takes me years to feel comfortable with people)
   
5. I have an America's Next Top Model obsession because I want to be skinny, though I am not willing to do what it takes to get skinny
   
6. I hated the name Linda when I was a kid and made up names that I was "supposed" to have been named. I prefer Linda to all of them now.
   
7. I had a brief flirtation with a guy who gave me a hat that smelled like tobacco (not the icky cigarette smell, but that rich cigarillo smell). I wore it until I met my current significant other.
   
8. I am afraid of heights but I LOVE to fly and dream of having a set of my own wings
   
9. I do not want children. Ever. For many practical and important reasons. However, I have to pretend not to like kids because if I'm nice to them/around them willingly people start saying, "you should have one of your own" and I feel horribly guilty and defensive. Also, it scares the crap out of my S.O., as if I'll suddenly change my mind (after 10 years of knowing I don't want them!). So I instead pretend I don't like them.
   
10. I chew on the sides of my nails/cuticles when I'm thinking and don't realize it until they're all ragged and icky.
    

I don't have a lot of friends under this username, so I'll tag stefanie_bean. You'll have to tag others on my behalf. :D

I just got my critique back from my teacher for the class I am taking. She - wait for it! - said that my writing sounds like pure Jane Austen. *does happy dance*

She also brought up several helpful and good points that I need to work on. Again I need to work on keeping my POV straight - it was one of the biggest things a critique partner pointed out on a chapter I wrote before. Also, I really need to learn how to do sexual tension without doing purple prose. I'm sure that will be a matter of practice.

And, for anyone who is interested:
( character description assignment in narrative )

I have an RWA membership number! :D

Now that I've got my review back from my teacher I figured I'd post this.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The gate was covered in soot and dust that had settled into every cranny of intricately woven and twisted iron. Miranda grasped the handle and pushed open the gate, leaving yet another stain on what had been her best pair of gloves. She sent a prayer of thanks heavenward that the gate had at least been recently oiled, for it did not squeal as it had when her father had first moved them to the brick mansion on Hanover Square. She scurried up the walk to the kitchen door, one eye open for any faces at the windows that stared down at her owl-like.

Easing the door open, Miranda peered around the dim kitchen. She could still smell the biscuits Cook had made that afternoon, but she did not see or hear anyone in the room. She slipped inside, turning to close the door. Once she was inside she let loose a sigh. She leaned her forehead against the rough wood of the plank door. Tears welled in her eyes, but she held them back. Miranda knew better than to let them fall until she made it safely to her room. No one in this household would be at all sympathetic, she thought, no matter how despondent she was. Nor would they approve of her actions tonight.

She glided towards the servant’s stairs, careful not to let the heels of her dancing shoes clatter against the floor. Her silk skirts rustled and she winced at the sound, certain everyone in the house could hear. She looked up the staircase, determining if there was anyone yet on them. No sounds drifted down to the quiet kitchen.

She lifted her skirts, now damp and covered in blood and other unpleasant things, and took the narrow stairs two at a time. There wasn’t much time before dawn if the brightening sky had been any indicator. Snippets of sound from the servant’s hall upstairs confirmed her fears. Already they were rising to prepare for the day. Her breath came in gasps. Miranda took the last two steps, hurtling around the corner to reach her room just as she heard the little maid with the coal scuttle coming out of her father’s room. Not even pausing to remove her shoes, Miranda dove onto her bed, pulling the counterpane up to her chin. As the girl entered and began cleaning out the ashes of yesterday’s fire and laying fresh coal in the grate, it took all Miranda’s will to lie still and serene.

Finally the maid was gone and Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. For a long moment she lay under the thick blankets as she allowed her heartbeat to slow to normal. She had done it! Her reputation was safe. No one would ever know that she had not returned the night before. No one could guess that she had instead spent the night helping her fiancée’s mistress to deliver his child. She was not quite certain herself how it had happened.

I just submitted my first homework assignment for my writing class at almost midnight last night. I then spent almost thirty minutes hitting "refresh" to see if either my fellow students or teacher had made any comments. I have since checked twice and nothing yet. Granted the teacher has until Wednesday to make comments and several other students don't have comments on their work yet (except my comments).

If I am this obsessive & neurotic about a homework assignment I am terrified to think what I'll be like when I'm actually submitting for publication. I am sure those close to me tremble in fear of the angst and drama.

But, I did have fun doing the homework. I had several false starts, but once I got going it was hard to stop at the 500 word limit. :D That's encouraging.

ETA: I just got two comments. One of them said "This sounds like the writing of an experienced writer." *SQUEE* Especially cool since I'm very, very not. How does someone do this writer thing while working a full-time job? I so cannot focus on work today. *grins like an idiot at the compliment*

I think I've got it. I've these lovely characters I've been playing around with, but I haven't been able to figure out their story. I have a small idea now that (with much fleshing out of course) may work. *rubs hands together gleefully*

Plus, this nasty bug is finally letting fo and I feel almost HUMAN again! Whee! It's enough to make one giddy.

I desperately want to go the the MDRWA meeting tonight, but I've got some sort of icky flu bug that's making me tired and not good company.

*le sigh* Maybe next month.