Tag Archives: YA

November 20, 2013

ROW, ROW, ROW Your WIPpet: Creeptastic Edition

By Kate Sparkes

It’s WEDNESDAY, the greatest day of the week (for me), and hoooo my goodness I forgot to put the garbage out again.

Dangit.

You all know what that means (she said as readers not interested in this stuff quickly navigated away). WIPpet Wednesday and a ROW80 Update! Yaaaaaay! *partysplosion*

WIPpet Wednesday:

Nine paragraphs from Rowan’s POV in this year’s NaNoWriMo novel (20th, minus 11 for November, so as not to bore you all… wouldn’t want to keep you against your will). Just for fun, no context. Most of you don’t know this guy, anyway.

–

“Keep those clothes on,” Callum said. He locked the door and released me, then sat to remove his boots. “I don’t have anything for you to wear.”

“You… you’re staying in here, too?” I asked, and he smiled sadly.

“Funny, isn’t it? If things had gone as they were supposed to, we’d be married by now, and you’d have been sharing a bed with me since midwinter. Now you’re with me against your will, and I can’t risk leaving you alone to piss without thinking you’re going to disappear.” He stood and walked barefoot toward me, and I stepped back until I hit the wall. Callum sighed, and reached out to cup my face in his hand. “You should have been mine. Sweet Rowan.” I tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let me. He rubbed his thumb over my cheekbone, tenderly, then pushed me toward the bed. “Get in.”

“No.”

“You’re not in a bargaining position, love. You have nothing to worry about, anyway. I know what you’re thinking. You assume too much about your own appeal if you think I’d defile myself with someone like you. Don’t make me angry, though. You’ll regret it.”

I took my time deciding whether I could believe him. In the end, I sat down and took my own boots off, then slipped under the uppermost blanket and wrapped my skirt tight around my legs.  Callum closed off the oil lamp. There was silence for what seemed like several minutes, and then he climbed into the bed. My muscles twitched as the lumpy mattress shifted under his weight.

“Go to sleep,” he said.

I didn’t think I would, but I must have drifted off. I woke to the feeling of a heavy hand sliding from my waist down over my hip and resting on the outside of my thigh for a moment before retracing its journey back up to my ribs. Callum sighed and shifted in the bed, then rolled away from me.

I lay in the dark, eyes wide open and unseeing, waiting.

–

Oooooh, how did THAT happen?

Want to see what the other WIPpeteers are up to this week? Check out the link here, and as always, please stop by to pay your respects to K.L. Schwengel, the Godauthor of WIPpet Wednesdays. She just might make you an offer you can’t refuse. Want to join in? Post a snippet of a work in progress on your own blog that relates somehow to today’s date, and link back. Easy-peasy, London squeezy, as my 5-year old says.

ROW80

NaNoWriMo word count: 44,076 as of last night. I’m having a pacing issue in that a character has encountered friends he hasn’t seen since book one and they have a lot to talk about. I mean, it’s interesting stuff, and a horse just got eaten by a dragon in the middle of it… and there’s sexual tension with the wrong damned person… but still. Do I need to throw more dragons at you people? Because I WILL DO IT. -_-

I need to get back to work. There’s a box of Count Chocula calling my name, and I can’t open it until I hit 50,000.

Also, if I get 50,000 likes words, the doctors say they’ll put legs on my cat. That’s a thing that works, right?

"Help... meeeeee!"

“Help… meeeeee!”

Boy, that’s a lot of pressure. I’d better get back to work.

TO THE WRITEATORIUM!

[This post dedicated to Shannon, who was the first person who reminded me to tie up this loose end 🙂 ]

29 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in NaNoWriMo, ROW80, Torn, WIPpet Wednesday

November 13, 2013

Wednesday Stuff: So Many Question Marks

By Kate Sparkes

ROW80:

I think my twitter feed says a lot about how writing went for me this week.

*Wrote. Ugh.

But…

I count this as proof that BICFOK (butt in chair, fingers on keys) works, even when distractions abound and motivation seems to be at a standstill. And the words, they are not all crap. True, I did have to write circles in that one scene with an uncooperative character, and ended up skipping it for now, but this is how the story gets written.

It also gets written with a lot of typos. I blame the excessive amounts of caffeine I’m consuming.

So there you go. Closing in on 30,ooo words now out of a 50,000 word month and a 100,000 word draft goal.

And speaking of those words that I hope are not all crap…

WIPpet Wednesday

For the thirteenth of NOVEMBER (jeez, I wrote October again!) I offer the last 13 paragraphs I wrote, as of right now (this being Tuesday at 11:10 am, because I’m on the ball this week). Aren’s hubris (that should be his middle name, I swear) has got him into trouble, and he’s getting schooled by a secretive warrior-monk-wise man type. We’ve all been there, right?

He released me, and I dropped to the floor, gasping.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

“I think a better question might be who you think you are, Aren. Powerful? Undoubtedly. Intelligent, though inexperienced, and blinded by pride. But what else? You’re not a prince anymore, or your brother’s tool. What will you use your magic for now? What would you be without it? Is there more to you?”

I ignored his questions. “How did you block me without magic?”

“Our potions master is quite good, isn’t he?” Phelun crouched on the floor in front of me. “You don’t understand as much about this world as you think you do. You have been given great gifts, and you squander them. You use them for selfish reasons, to harm and kill and destroy. Do you think this is what the Goddess intended when she blessed you so?”

He offered a hand, and I ignored it, instead pushing myself up from the floor by pressing my back against the door and forcing my legs to straighten.

“I don’t know. Was it her plan for my father and his father before him to plan their marriages to produce the strongest children? Was she at work in his bedroom when I was conceived, or Severn? And where was she when my father and my oldest brother turned me into what I am? It seems she was absent when my mother died, when my caretakers were killed, when I lost the only friends I’d ever had. Did she expect me to rise from the cesspool of hate and mistrust I was born into, to turn my back on the advantages of belonging to the wealthiest and most influential family in the world? To betray them for a deity who’s never given a shit about me?”

“You did betray your family, in the end.”

“Not for her. You said yourself that the magic I use is dark, and not her will. And yet you also say it’s a gift from her. Which is it?”

He stayed where he was, crouched at my feet. “I don’t know,” he said. “But I don’t believe she would have sent you to us if you were beyond redemption, or if I couldn’t help you.”

“So you believe you’ve done good here?”

“Perhaps. The results of our actions are often not immediately apparent. I trust in the Goddess, in my experiences and what my brothers have learned over the centuries.”

“Do you? I trust in myself.”

Oh, my beloved character. You are going to get cut down like a friggin’ Christmas tree.

So there you go, my contrubution in all of its NaNo draft glory. FEEL THE GLORY, HUMANS!

Sorry. Too much coffee again this morning. *tweeks*

If you’d like more WIPpet Wednesday fun, click on over here to see what the other WIPpeteers are up to this week, and as always, feel free to join in! Just post an excerpt on your own blog from a work in progress that somehow relates to today’s date (chapter, number of lines, whatever). We’re a good bunch, I promise. We probably won’t bite… Except for maybe our host, K.L. Schwengel. *flips through notes* Wait. No, she’s bright, not “she’ll bite.” Sorry.

Curious about ROW80, the flexible writing challenge that’s not as insane as NaNoWriMo*? Here’s the link to the site and the blog, from which you can find links to see what everyone else is up to this week. It’s never too late to join in!

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*You know I love you, NaNo. gimme a kiss.

 

28 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in NaNoWriMo, ROW80, Torn, WIPpet Wednesday

July 17, 2013

WIPpet Wednesday- Giving Up & #ROW80 update

By Kate Sparkes

No, not me. I’m not giving up. Not yet. But there comes a time in every story (or at least, there should) where a character reaches a point when he or she is ready to give up, when things can’t get any worse, when they’d do anything to get out of a situation.

I was just revising this last week, and it’s still wandering forlornly around in my brain during quiet moments. This is Aren again, a guy who never expected to care this much about anything. He’s done something stupid, and he and Rowan are both paying for it.

Thirteen sentences from chapter 26 (curse you, chapter 26! And you too, 27, I’m still watching you). Today is 17/7/2013… 1+7+7-2-0=13.

Isn’t WIPpet math the best?

This is all I’m going to give away from this part of the story, because we’re (obviously) getting into spoiler territory. I like to think the book would be enjoyable even if you knew the ending, but why ruin the fun, right? Sorry I left something out here…

–

I’d exhausted my supply of magic in finishing *wee spoiler*, but that didn’t leave me completely helpless. I curled my body around hers, wrapped my cloak around both of us, and channelled what magic I could take from the land into producing heat in my own skin. Still the cold night air pressed in around us, greedy, stealing everything I created.

My people know a number of deities, the great unnamed Goddess and a seemingly limitless pantheon of lesser gods. It had always seemed to me that they’d shown little concern for me over the course of my life, and for the most part I’d shown them the same courtesy. Now, though, I closed my eyes, and I begged. Get us through this night. Let me help her to safety. Keep Severn away, and I’ll do anything. I’ll change. If you demand it, I’ll go back and face whatever I now owe to my family. Just let her come back, let her live. I didn’t even know who I was praying to, only that I needed to hold onto those thoughts to keep me from going mad.

–

Man, I need to post something less depressing soon. Where did that mer-people party get to?

And should that be “whom” in the last sentence? I suck at whom.

So anyway, if you’ve been around for a while, you know the rules, and you know you can join right in any time. We don’t bite. We might cookie-dough-and-glitter you (this is the new tar-and-feather, it’s much more fun), but that’s about the worst you’ll get from the WIPpeteers. Post an excerpt from a work in progress that relates to today’s date, add your blog link through the linkie you’ll find at My Random Muse, and be sure to drop by and comment on other people’s stuff. Seriously, join us. Best part of my week.

seanbeanwippet

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#ROW80 Update

OK, we need a Round of Words update today, don’t we? Man, Wednesdays are busy around here!

Writing: Trying to get 4 chapters a day ready for beta readers. Actually, I should be doing that right now… Other goals are good, see you later!

(Oh, and I’m adding the goal of visiting three or more ROW80 blogs every Sunday and Wednesday… since I’m doing that anyway. Looking for more updates? Here’s the link!)

32 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in Bound, Revision, ROW80, WIPpet Wednesday

July 11, 2013

Oh, Happy Day

By Kate Sparkes

20130711-111447.jpg

Eight pages, guys.

Eight pages until I’m done this *expletive deleted* round of revisions. There are still a few changes to make in the last chapter, but the end (or rather, The End) is so close I can smell it.

And folks, it smells goooood.

I can’t type fast enough to keep up with all of the exciting that’s happening right now. I know how it ends, and I’m still getting all twitchy. It’s a great feeling.

Know what else is a great feeling? This:

Last night, my brother called me. This doesn’t happen often, but wasn’t entirely unexpected, since we’re staying with him and his adorable family when we visit Ontario later this month. But one of the reasons he called this time was to inform me that my sister-in-law had got a hold of my book. It was an old version, the first one I sent out to volunteer victims readers for feedback, but which my brother hadn’t had time to read (true fact: no one in my family had read it up to this point). I got quite nervous when he said that.

Verdict?

Apparently I have two weeks to finish the next book so she can read that one, too.

Yaaaaay! I mean, that’s impossible for me, but that’s a great reaction!

Gotta love when that happens. It wasn’t just that someone said that they enjoyed the story and wanted more, but that it came out of the blue, from someone who had no obligation to read or to give me feedback. I wasn’t waiting to hear what she thought, because I didn’t know she was reading it. If she’d hated it, she could have said nothing and told my brother to chuck it in the garbage. Instead, he’s going to read it. I told him to wait for the revised version, but he’s thinking about reading both and letting me know what he thinks of the changes.

Wow.

So that’s one more person who’s going to beta read for me when this thing gets wrapped up. For anyone else who’s waiting, the plan is to finish what I’m doing now (probably tomorrow, if I can sleep tonight and not get up to write), then go through backwards to polish everything up right nice n’ shiny, and then I’ll be in touch to see if you’re still interested and to find out what format you want it in.

And then I’ll hyperventilate until people get back to me, and then I’ll probably cry a bit, and then I’ll get back to work.

Sounds like a plan?

20 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Bound, Revision, writing

July 3, 2013

WIPpet Wednesay: Dressing Up

By Kate Sparkes

OK, Wednesday again! I chose this snippet last Wednesday while I was editing (and having a great day with it, I might add!). Seventeen lines (in WordPress, on my computer) for our first entry in the seventh month. 1+7= 17… in WIPpet math. 😉

Rowan is getting ready for a party with a whole bunch of mer-women (who are currently wearing legs, I should add), and she’s trying to enjoy herself in spite of the fact that she’s having mixed feelings about how things are going in other areas of her life. She’s lost confidence in herself, but it’s hard to be un-cheered when you’re surrounded by new friends like these. 🙂

–

The mer women were calling for me to come back and find a dress and have my hair done, and to admire the beautiful mother-of-pearl necklace that Niari wore. I’d never enjoyed dressing up and going to parties; I always felt like I had to impress someone, but no one here seemed particularly concerned about that. They were excited to have an excuse to wear beautiful clothes and to make themselves look good, but there was no sense of competition, of deciding who looked the best. It seemed impossible; in my world there was always a competition, always someone wondering who you were good enough to marry. I decided to go along with it, to try to set my sadness aside for a while and have fun with my new friends.

I joined in admiring what everyone else was wearing. When Dianna said a dress looked beautiful on me I said “thank you” instead of deflecting the compliment like I normally would. When I looked in the full-length mirror, I saw that she wasn’t wrong; the strapless dress was an incredible peacock blue color that flashed green when I moved. It ignited the normally dull red undertones in my hair, and added a blue tint to my grey eyes. The fabric wrapped tight at my waist and fell straight from my hips to the floor in folds of rich color. Even before Niari found me a pair of gold shoes that matched the stitching in my dress and swept my hair back in a sapphire and emerald comb, I felt more beautiful than I ever had before. The girl in the mirror looked like some princess I’d never met, until I smiled and recognized myself.

–

Thanks for stopping by! Be sure to stop and see what the other WIPpeteers are offering today at this link. Big thanks to the fantabulatastic KL Schwengel for hosting this carnival of crazies! If you’d like to join in, just post a section of a work in progress that relates in some way to the day’s date, then add your own link to the list. Don’t have a WIP? Start one!

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Mmmkay, ROW80 update.

I got nuthin’ as far as writing goes, because I was a fool (a FOOL, I tells ya!) and picked up this book*. what was I thinking? This one kept me awake way too late two nights in a row. I guess this counts as my book for the week, so there’s one goal accomplished. On the other hand, I was so tired this morning that I forgot about the oatmeal on the stove, and this happened.

20130702-220920.jpg

Burned oatmeal =/= one of my goals. Not for this round, anyway.

But yeah, loved the book. After I’ve finished two other first-in-trilogy books recently, I’ve said “yeah, I’ll pick up the next one some day.” With this one I’m going “WHY DON’T I HAVE IT NOW?!!” in that really whiny voice you should all be glad you can’t hear.

So that’s my update. Need to get back to writing, but big old check-mark on the book for this week. DONE.

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*If you’re not feeling clicky, I’ll tell you that it’s Unwind by Neal Schusterman

18 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in books, Bound, ROW80, WIPpet Wednesday

June 26, 2013

WIPpet Wednesday 6/26/2013

By Kate Sparkes

Welcome, welcome to WIPpet Wednesday, wherein we WIPpeteers wage war on world-weariness with wild, wanton or wonderful works of writerly wit and wisdom (and once in a while a whale of a whopper will wing its way, from whence we know not where).

Also, some of us abuse the thesaurus horribly.

We share a small portion of a WIP (work in progress) that relates in some way to the day’s date, be it page number or chapter, number or words, lines, paragraphs, etc.

Today is the 26th. I’ll give you words: 26+6+2+0+13 for the date (and another for good luck.)

This is from Bound, the last section I worked on. Rowan is narrating and speaking.

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“Right. I’m sure you’re always a perfect gentleman.” Aren’s grin widened, and I wondered what he was like with women when he was at home. Powerful, a king’s son, handsome in his own way, and terribly charming when he wanted to be? God help the women of Luid.

–

That’s it, that’s all. Stop by and visit the other WIPpeteers here, and if you’d like to join in the fun, just follow the rules as stated above (or if you have nothing to share from a current WIP, start a new one!), and add your own link. Thanks to KL Schwengel for hosting this shindig. 🙂

 

28 Comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in Bound, WIPpet Wednesday

June 25, 2013

Book Review: Matched

By Kate Sparkes

I finished and reviewed Matched by Ally Condie.

Guys, I’m really surprised at how much I enjoyed this one. I’m usually not a fan of the straight-up love triangle, and this one did make me feel badly for one guy, but at least neither of them was abusive/controlling/disrespectful/etc like you see so often in these settings. I gave it four stars, based entirely on my own reading experience. It was fun, relaxing, and interesting enough that I spent my afternoon yesterday reading it instead of writing. Good enough for 4 stars from me. 🙂

5 Comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in book reviews

June 19, 2013

WIPpet Wednesday: Flashback, and a Farewell to ROW80

By Kate Sparkes

You may recall (and you’re forgiven if you don’t, I know how busy you are) that this month I’m working on a few projects. I’m making good progress in my editing on Bound, and yes, added words are being counted toward my word count for JuNoWriMo. I’m not adding a lot; I’m really trying to cut down on the total word count. But sometimes more needs to be said, and today’s WIPpet Wednesday offering is one of those passages. Will it stay? I don’t know. But experimenting is fun. 🙂

So, the WIPpet math for 19/6/13: 19 paragraphs +6 paragraphs -1 paragraph -3 paragraphs. Don’t worry, it’s mostly dialogue. (Aren’s POV)

–

My return to town was quiet, made late at night and in the midst of a street festival, but Severn knew I was coming as soon as I dropped the magic dedicated to blocking his awareness of me. He had me brought to his chambers before I had a chance to unsaddle my horse. The only reason I made it without a beating was that the palace guards feared me only a little less than they did Severn.

He dismissed them with a wave, and they bowed as they left us. The room was uncharacteristically cluttered, littered with half-empty wine bottles, and I wondered how many other people had been sent away before my arrival. “How wonderful,” Severn drawled after the guards closed the door. “Just what I wanted for my birthday. A ghost.”

I didn’t speak. I’d learned over the years that if I didn’t have an answer that would satisfy him, it was best to give none at all.

“We thought you were dead,” he continued, his voice as cold as I’d ever heard it. “It’s not like you to disappear.”

“I was injured escaping from the mountains. I needed time to recover, and had no way to contact you without being seen.”

Severn poured two glasses of wine and offered me one. I drank the full glass, not because I wanted it, but to show that I trusted him not to poison me. That, or I feared him enough to do as he wished with no thought for what might happen to me. It didn’t matter to Severn; respect and fear were nearly the same thing to him. “I searched for you. There was no sign.”

“Perhaps the distance interfered with your perception. I can assure you that at no time was I dead.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You weren’t blocking me?”

“I don’t think I could. You know me too well. And I had no reason to.” I held my body still, and kept my eyes glued to his. I have nothing to hide, I thought. I did, of course, but Severn wouldn’t be able to see far into me. He lacked that particular set of skills, and that made me useful to him— and him mistrustful of me.

It was several uncomfortable moments before he released me from his gaze and sipped from his own glass. “You’re ruining my party. Tell me what happened, and go.”

“Annyk is dead.”

“You killed him?”

“His brother did.”

Severn sneered. “I’m not sure whether I’m impressed by your skill or disgusted with your continuing unwillingness to dirty your own hands. Either way, it’s done.” That was the most praise I could expect from him. “Any sign of more magic?”

Now I would have to tread carefully. Severn might not have been able to see my thoughts, but he would know if I lied to him outright. Half-truths would be better. “I think I found someone, but I was attacked before I could bring her in.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Her? Interesting. Where?”

I fought back the tension that cramped my shoulders. There was no chance I was going to let him take her. Not after she saved me. Severn would never understand that, though, and there would be no stopping him if he learned there was an unidentified sorceress in Qittavia. “In the mountains,” I lied. “And well-hidden.”

“Obviously, if Annyk didn’t find her.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

“No.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Familiar energy began to build, infusing the air in the stone-walled room, causing the hairs on my body to stand up and remembered pain to race through my body. He wouldn’t be afraid to hurt me if he thought he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

“There’s nothing. I’ll go back and find her again, or I can tell someone else where to search.” The energy leveled off, but did not disperse, and my body broke out in sweat as I fought to not react to the pain.

–

Want to see more from the other WIPpeteers? Click this link to connect to MORE links that will take you to them (updated all day, so check back!), and be sure stop by and maybe leave a nice fruit basket at our host blog, My Random Muse.

Tommorow is the last day of this round of A Round of Words in 80 Days. It’s been fun; I’ll do things a bit differently next time (starting at the beginning, setting clearer goals at the start), but I’ll definitely do it again. I’ve found some interesting bloggers to follow, and it’s always nice to just go through and visit someone new. I like being reminded of how many of us are in this together, writing and struggling and loving it.

As far as my own goals are concerned, I’m catching up on my JuNoWriMo word count, which means I’m currently trying for more than the 2,000 words a day that I’d set as my goal. My reading didn’t have as measurable a goal, but I’m getting it done when time allows. I’m surprised at how much I’m enjoying Matched; it really didn’t seem like my thing at all, but I like the set-up of the Society (and some of you know how picky I am about that sort of thing), and I like how Cassia is developing as a character. Now, I’ve heard from several people that the other two books in the trilogy are a big disappointment, but I’ll at least try the next one. This is one advantage of library books, isn’t it?

School is almost out here; Simon gets a day off on Thursday and only goes in for a few hours on Friday, so I guess today is really the last day of school. We’ll see how having both kids home will affect my productivity. We also have a week-long vacation planned for the end of July, and I don’t see myself getting a lot of writing done there (not sure if I’ll even take the computer), but I can read.

Annnd… that’s about it. Thanks for stopping by, and don’t forget that the next round of ROW80 starts next month. 🙂

18 Comments   |  tags: , , , , | posted in Bound, JuNoWriMo, ROW80, WIPpet Wednesday, writing

June 12, 2013

WIPpet Wednesday: Consequences

By Kate Sparkes

Last week’s WIPpet snippet was short. Of COURSE I’m going to give you something massive this week. I won’t be offended if you skip it. 🙂

This is from chapter… probably three. I’m not too clear on chapter divisions yet. This is extremely rough, please excuse the everything. Set up: things haven’t been going well since the end of Bound (so much for happily ever after, right?). So SPOILER ALERT I guess, if you don’t want to know whether people survive that one.

Still with me? Good. Rowan has convinced Aren to take a walk with her on the beach, saying she wanted to search for treasure. He doubted they’d find any, but went along anyway. He doesn’t get to spend much time alone with her these days. :/

12 + 6 paragraphs for 12/6  (plus one line so it makes sense)

—

Rowan seemed to be trying to get her bearings on the beach, running back and forth, looking down, when she suddenly dropped to her knees to rake her fingers through the pebbles. I jogged toward her, holding tightly to the cloth-wrapped item in my pocket. She stood and held her hand out to me. “Told you there was treasure.”

Glass. Two pieces, one green and one brown, the edges smoothed and the surface dulled by the rocks and water. “That’s it? This is what you were looking for?”

“Mm-hmm. I didn’t think you’d come with me if I told you.”

“What, that we were looking for old garbage?” She looked at me expectantly, and I sighed. “No, I still would have come along.” I fell in beside her as she walked closer to the water.

“It’s not old garbage.”

“It’s broken glass that somebody threw away, or that floated off of a shipwreck. It is the very definition of garbage.”

She stopped to pick up a few more pieces, and motioned for me to hold out my hand. “No,” she said. “This is garbage.” Clear glass this time, and new, probably tossed over the cliff recently. I closed my fingers around it, and the point of the triangle bit into my skin. When I opened my hand, blood welled up from a tiny puncture. Rowan frowned. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can’t heal it, you know.”

“It’ll go away on its own soon enough.”

She shook her head, and a sudden breeze off of the ocean blew her hair around her head until she caught it and tied it back with the ribbon she kept in her coat. “This, however,” she continued, “is treasure.” Clear glass again, but turned white by its pitted surface. It was perfectly smooth, and aside from its colour was indistinguishable from the round pebbles that littered the shore. “I suppose it was garbage once, but after a while it becomes beautiful. Don’t you see it?”

As she added to her collection, I started to see. No one would ever mistake the glass for gemstones, but they were beautiful in the same way that someone like Rowan thought beach rocks were beautiful, or a mossy forest, or the swirling patterns in driftwood. I didn’t notice those things the way she did, but I was learning. It reminded me of her; if the women I’d known in Luid were diamonds and sapphires, she was the amethyst-coloured glass she handed to me, which seemed to glow in the fading sunlight and became more interesting the longer I looked at it. She was a strange person, but in ways that I liked very much. I thought again of leaving, and felt ill. I didn’t know how to bring it up.

A dull flash of green caught my eye. “What about this one?” I asked.

She turned the glass over in her hands. “Almost there. See how this edge is clear? It probably broke off of something not too long ago, and the ocean has to work on it a bit more. It’s a shame; the colour’s good.”

I sat on a weathered log that had landed above the tide line, and Rowan followed. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” she asked.

“It’s time,” I said. She was silent for a few moments, then smiled, sadly.

“What, just when things are going so well here?”

I took her hand. It was so small in mine. “I would stay if I thought it would help you, but I think I’m just in the way right now. I’m not doing any good here. I’m tired of being unwanted and useless. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing now, but it’s not this.”

Rowan squeezed my fingers. “It’s not getting any better, is it?”

“Did I ever tell you what Mariana and Arnav said to me at the Grotto?” She shook her head and sat beside me. “They said that it was admirable that I wanted to renounce my past, but that I needed to learn what I was living for. Right now I have nothing but you. I think I could spend the rest of my life living for you, but-”

“…but that’s not fair to either of us. I know.”

—

Life is hard, kids, stay in school and don’t fall in love too quickly. Quality advice from Auntie Kate, right there. I have a big problem with stories where people fall in love too quickly and then that’s it.  I will NOT have codependent characters. *end rant*

And yeah, I know, it’s wordy and needs editing. I’ll get back to it. 😉

Want to join in the WIPpet Wedesday fun? Head on over to our host’s blog (KL Schwengel at My Random Muse), click on the linkie and share the love with the other WIPpeteers, and add your own link to a bit of your work in progress that relates to today’s date in some way (12 lines, 12 words… 12+6 letters, something from chapter or page 12… whatever).

IMG_2594

Treasure ahoy!

I guess I owe a #ROW80 update, too, especially since I missed Sunday’s check-in. JuNoWriMo is putting the pressure on, but I’m behind. I need a few good days with no distractions to get caught up. 2,000 words a day is just not happening right now. I’ve given up on reading Fallen (see here if you really want to know why) and have started Matched, which I thought sounded very not me, but I’ve enjoyed the first few chapters. Housework is going well, too, even if I refuse to acknowledge that as an official goal.

22 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in ROW80, Torn, WIPpet Wednesday, writing

April 23, 2013

I’ve Got a Dream

By Kate Sparkes

Some of you will disagree with everything I say here, and that’s okay. I hope this doesn’t get too depressing for anyone. It’s not meant to be. This is what happens when reality gently taps me on the shoulder and reminds me of what’s important. (I’ve re-written this post four times already, I’m done.)

Let’s start with this, because it’s amazing:

Damn, I love me some Flynn Rider.

Those guys have dreams. Perhaps not realistic dreams, but they’ve got ’em. Don’t we all? I know I do, and I know (because I’m a little psychic because I read your wonderful blogs) that many of you share my dream. Not for me– for yourselves.

We want to write. We want other people to read and love what we write, and we’d really like to get recognition and at least a wee bit of money for that. We want to see our books on a shelf and go, “Yes, that’s mine. I did that.” And then if you’re me, dissolve into a puddle of tears because this is what you’ve always wanted.

Doesn’t sound like so much to ask, does it? Some of you are laughing right now because you know that it IS a lot to ask, and it’s a hard dream to have. And it’s a dream that an unbelievable number of people share, all of them caring as much about their work and believing in it as hard as I do mine. I find this very humbling.

It’s a great dream, don’t get me wrong. When you love what you’re doing and there are examples in front of you every day of people just like you making it, getting their books published and turning into massive bestsellers, you think, why not me? When you get to the part where you’re collecting rejections, there are stories of those very same authors and books getting  just as many rejections. You think, “it’s part of the process.” Well, I assume you do. I don’t have much experience with this part yet, but I will, one way or another. We all do, if we put our stuff out there.

We maintain hope, but  at the same time, we understand that for most of us, it’s not going to happen. Whether because we’re deluding ourselves when we think our work is good enough (not you guys, your work is the cat’s pajamas. I’m saying me and those shady-looking writers over there), or because of a variety of factors beyond our control*, we’ll be lucky to see our beloved words in print.

Oh, we can skew the odds in our favor, for sure. We can read up on writing craft (and read everything else we can get our grubby mitts on and learn from), we can make our work the best it can be, we can market the heck out of it, we can go to conventions** and meet agents or editors who just might remember us if we make a super-good impression, we can spend hours and days crafting the perfect query letter. We can hire great editors and take their advice, we can find amazing cover artists and devise the perfect pricing strategy. It makes a difference. It doesn’t guarantee success.

Depressed yet? I’m not.

There’s a kind of freedom, for me at least, in knowing that the odds are long and the road hard, in understanding that some things are beyond my control, and that that’s absolutely, perfectly fine. It helps me understand the difference between goals and dreams. Writing the best books you can and doing the best you can for them, that’s a worthwhile goal. Having a bestseller that’s made into a blockbuster movie and then there’s the money and let’s say a super hot actor falls in love with the author behind it all (hey, why not, right?) is a dream. If it keeps you going, it’s a good dream. It’s not a reasonable goal, though, and we’re all going to be mighty disappointed if we make that kind of luck and success a goal we expect to achieve.

Optimism is necessary, and it’s fantastic. Realism is, too, but in a different way. I say we need both.

This brings me to another, tangentially related topic. You know those people who seem to pop up on every agent’s blog asking what the next big thing is going to be, as though they can write it to order and be guaranteed an agent/contract/publication/bestseller? That’s hilarious, isn’t it? Kind of adorable.

There’s a reason they say to write what you love, and to write because you love it, not because you think you could be the next Stephanie Meyer if only you could catch the wave of the next trend in publishing. Odds are you’ll put a lot of work into something you don’t actually care about, and have little to show for it. No matter what you do, books that aren’t as good as yours will probably rise higher. It sucks, but it happens (not mentioning any names). But if you love what you do, believe in your stories and feel passionately that this is what you’re meant to be doing, you’re not wasting your time. Whatever level of commercial or critical success you achieve (or don’t), you’ve done something worthwhile.

I like that idea.

So yes, I’ll polish up this book that I’m working on, wash its face and send it out into the world, telling it to play nice with the other kids (but not too nice) and not to trade its carrot sticks for cookies in the lunch room. And then I’ll get back to work on the next one, because that’s what I do.

Publishing may sometimes seem like an exercise in futility (and I’ve deleted paragraphs outlining why this is so, you’re very welcome), but writing never is. Not if it’s what you love.

–

*(that agent just signed someone and doesn’t care to add another just now; your book isn’t on-trend and the publisher doesn’t want to take a chance; you decide to self-publish and through the whims of fate and Amazon your book never gets any exposure)

**If you can do this, I’ll try to only hate you a little for it.

23 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , , , , | posted in books, publishing, writing

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