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Out of Order

Monday, July 12th, 2010

I’ve got a nice list of projects I want to work on in the order I plan to write them. I’ve finished a couple and sent them to my agent, and after some downtime to research and focus my thoughts a new direction, I was going to move on to the next one.

Only a funny thing happened. The hero and heroine from a different project came in and have taken over my thoughts. The characters from the project I want to work on next aren’t talking. More than that, they’ve remained elusive, refusing to give me anything. And the h/h who should be sitting, quietly waiting their turn, won’t shut up.

The conclusion I’ve come to is that I need to work on the h/h who are talking. Clearly, they’re blocking the characters from my other project and aren’t going to listen to me. So I’m in pre-book on the wrong story. Sigh.

I started researching a few things on Wednesday. I learned a few new things about my characters (like my heroine went to grad school at UCLA). I puzzled over a few plot problems, and although they remain unresolved, I’m hopeful that more mulling will solve them. And this still frustrates me. Why don’t I get more control than this? Why do my characters get to choose what I work on next?

It’s not like I can even choose to focus on the project I want to work on next when I can’t keep it in my mind or get the h/h to talk to me. Asking them questions doesn’t work. Thinking about their story doesn’t last long before the other h/h take over. Trying to fine tune the world building doesn’t help either.

So I’ve rearranged my plans. I’ll work on this story, solve its issues, and maybe I can placate this h/h enough for them to fade and let the other project come to the forefront.

Or maybe not, but there’s no point in spinning my wheels on characters that aren’t ready to talk.

A Little Cam – Part 2

Monday, February 15th, 2010

I added another page to the Cam and Damon scene I posted last week. I’ve included the original page so that if you didn’t read it, there’s no need to search backward. Also, so that anyone who wants to read it in one fell swoop has it all in one place. I will try to post more next Sunday.

Warning: This is rough first draft and only part of the scene. When I have more time, I’d like to finish it and polish it for a bonus page on my website. Do y’all think it’s worth the work it would take or is this boring for you and a waste of my time?

This story is copyright 2010 by Patti O’Shea. Please link to the story if you like, but do not copy.

* * *

Cameron Brody leaned back, propping both elbows on the deck railing, and looked inside the house. His parents were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner and he could see them talking with each other. There was a lot of smiling, frequent laughter, and he felt something around his heart ease.

Coming home on leave had been the right decision.

He’d almost stayed on post. Cam knew he’d changed a lot since the last time he’d seen his family, but then battle did that to a man.

His brothers had taken off hours ago. It was Friday night and they had things to do, places to be. He’d never been all that close to them, but the age difference made it hard to relate. Cam was twenty-four–he’d been through West Point and fought in the war. His brothers were six and eight years younger–still in high school and more worried about the brand of jeans they wore than about things that really mattered.

As he watched, his dad danced his mom around the kitchen, and with a faint smile, Cam turned, resting his forearms on the railing. He stared off into the woods that surrounded the property and allowed himself to enjoy the warmth of the summer evening. All his life he’d had his parents’ love for each other and their love for him as a bulwark against the world. It steadied something inside him to see nothing had changed, that their feelings continued to run deeply. He wanted that, too. Some day.

Cam sighed and watched the birds flit around the trees. His dad had been in combat, he’d been part of Special Operations, and if he could make it through war, so could Cam. But damn, he thought he’d been prepared. His dad had told him what it was like, had been brutally frank about the ugliness of battle, and between that and the simulation training he’d taken, Cam had thought he’d be able to handle it easily.

He couldn’t.

Nothing could have prepared him to kill, to watch men around him fall to enemy fire. Nothing could erase what he’d seen from his memory. He leaned farther forward, dropping his head nearly to his hands.

“Are you okay?”

With a jerk, Cam straightened. He hadn’t heard his dad come up and he hadn’t thought anyone would be able to get the drop on him, not as wound up as he was from being in the field. “Fine.”

His dad looked skeptical, but instead of arguing, he invited, “Why don’t we take a walk?”

The urge to refuse was strong, but there was no good reason to say no. There were hours of daylight left, and if he declined, it would probably lead to more pointed questions. With a shrug, Cam capitulated. “Sure.”

Parkland abutted the property, isolating them from civilization, and despite his worry about his dad quizzing him, they simply walked. Early evening sunshine filtered through the leaves of the trees, dappling the path they were taking, a light breeze ruffled his hair, birds called to each other, and rabbits scurried away. Jamming his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he focused on all this and tried to ignore the presence of his dad beside him.

But the silence begin to wear on him. When was his dad going to say something? There was no doubt he would and the waiting pulled Cam’s nerves taut. Another ten minutes passed and he couldn’t take it anymore. “Aren’t you going to interrogate me?”

“Did you want me to ask questions?”

Cam felt his dad’s eyes on him, but he kept his gaze straight ahead. “No.”

“Then I won’t.”

What did that mean? Cam turned the words over in his mind, but he didn’t find any answers. Damn, his dad could be cryptic when he wanted to be. Cam lost his focus on the trees, on the birds. The quiet coming from the man beside him seemed heavy, oppressive.

He cracked. “When I close my eyes, all I see is blood. I thought I could handle this, but I can’t seem to take it in stride, not like you did.”

“You think I escaped unscathed?” His dad’s disbelief came through loud and clear. “No one leaves war unaffected, certainly not me. I still have nightmares about things that happened when I was your age.”

That stopped Cam in his tracks. “You?” he asked, looking at his dad for the first time since they left the house.

To Be Continued at some point if y’all like it and think I should keep on writing it.

Copyright 2010 by Patti O’Shea – All Rights Reserved.

I Surrender

Friday, February 12th, 2010

Yesterday, I surrendered.

I’d been fighting for weeks writing a story I promised to my agent for March 1st. I only needed 50-60 pages of story and a synopsis, but all I did was write and cut, write and cut. I totally love this idea, but I was frustrated and getting nowhere fast.

And then I have this other idea I’d also talked to my agent about, but it isn’t the one I wanted to work on first even though I was nearly as excited about it as the proposal I was trying–and failing–to write. But I could see the first scene of this book fairly clearly, something that wasn’t the case with the other, and on Wednesday morning, the hero gave me information about himself. Again, not something I was getting with the other one.

I learned that Jack was divorced, that his mother was an alcoholic, and that he’d joined the LAPD after being an MP in the army. That meant he was older than the people with whom he went through the police academy. With all this information coming in, I decided to take my lunch hour and write the beginning to this story. Why not, right?

It actually went well. Wow. It’s been a while since I could say that about a writing day. By 9pm last night I had 4 pages (that’s high production for me on a weeknight) and I resented the fact that I had to quit writing and go to bed. I wanted to keep going and I believe I could have written the entire scene if I’d only had enough time and energy to make it to the end. :-) I muttered a few curses as I booted down, that’s how much I wanted to keep going.

Clearly, it would be stupid to continue fighting with the other story. It might just need more percolating time. It might need more research time. It might need something I haven’t figured out yet, but Jack and company are coming through loud and clear.

I surrendered. I will work on Jack’s story first, finish that proposal by March 1st (I hope!) and then go back to my problem children. :-) (The heroine is just as reticent as the hero.) Maybe by then they’ll be more cooperative. I can hope at least.

Now, though, I have to figure out a few things that I hadn’t thought about because I was sure I was working on the other story and I have to do it quickly if I want to put together a proposal package by March. Come on, brain, get working!

A Little Cam

Monday, February 8th, 2010

A while back I mentioned that Cam, Ravyn and Damon’s son (Ravyn’s Flight) had come in and started talking. I’ve been writing some of it down.

Warning: This is rough first draft and only part of the scene. When I have more time, I’d like to finish it and polish it for a bonus page on my website. Do y’all think it’s worth the work it would take or is this boring for you and a waste of my time?

This story is copyright 2010 by Patti O’Shea. Please link to the story if you like, but do not copy.

* * *

Cameron Brody leaned back, propping both elbows on the deck railing, and looked inside the house. His parents were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner and he could see them talking with each other. There was a lot of smiling, frequent laughter, and he felt something around his heart ease.

Coming home on leave had been the right decision.

He’d almost stayed on post. Cam knew he’d changed a lot since the last time he’d seen his family, but then battle did that to a man.

His brothers had taken off hours ago. It was Friday night and they had things to do, places to be. He’d never been all that close to them, but the age difference made it hard to relate. Cam was twenty-four–he’d been through West Point and fought in the war. His brothers were six and eight years younger–still in high school and more worried about the brand of jeans they wore than about things that really mattered.

As he watched, his dad danced his mom around the kitchen, and with a faint smile, Cam turned, resting his forearms on the railing. He stared off into the woods that surrounded the property and allowed himself to enjoy the warmth of the summer evening. All his life he’d had his parents’ love for each other and their love for him as a bulwark against the world. It steadied something inside him to see nothing had changed, that their feelings continued to run deeply. He wanted that, too. Some day.

Cam sighed and watched the birds flit around the trees. His dad had been in combat, he’d been part of Special Operations, and if he could make it through war, so could Cam. But damn, he thought he’d been prepared. His dad had told him what it was like, had been brutally frank about the ugliness of battle, and between that and the simulation training he’d taken, Cam had thought he’d be able to handle it easily.

He couldn’t.

Nothing could have prepared him to kill, to watch men around him fall to enemy fire. Nothing could erase what he’d seen from his memory. He leaned farther forward, dropping his head nearly to his hands.

“Are you okay?”

With a jerk, Cam straightened. He hadn’t heard his dad come up and he hadn’t thought anyone would be able to get the drop on him, not as wound up as he was from being in the field. “Fine.”

To Be Continued at some point if y’all like it and think I should keep on writing it.

Copyright 2010 by Patti O’Shea – All Rights reserved.

Demon Kissed

Friday, January 29th, 2010

It’s official! My Nocturne Bites story now has a title and a release date! Look for Demon Kissed May 1st.

I’ve updated my website with the information, including a little blurb about the book that needs more work, but gives the gist of the story.

When a demon slayer discovers a price has been put on her head, there’s only one person she can trust–an enigmatic fellow demon hunter named Andras.

This is the story that was sparked by a headline post on Twitter that said something along the lines of exorcist found guilty of murder. I knew what it really meant, but my imagination jumped to what if a demon slayer was put on trial for murder by the demons and what if she was found guilty? The story took off from there.

The heroine is Bree Molina. After her mother died (when she was a small child), Bree was raised to be a demon slayer by her mentor. She killed her first demon when she was 16 and never looked back. The story opens with her having a really bad night–all kinds of demons working together to hunt her.

I also added other updates to my website. If you go to the Fun Stuff page, you’ll find a link for a downloadable bookmark for In the Darkest Night, my March 30th release from Tor. If you page down farther, I updated the song list for my books. I still need to find time to hop on iTunes and add the newest song, but the theme for Demon Kissed is Winds of Change by Kutless.

And speaking of bookmarks, if you want a real, glossy paper bookmark for any of my full-length books (The shorts and novellas do not have bookmarks), please send a Self-Addressed, Stamped Envelope to me at PO Box 1365/Minnetonka, MN 55345. Tell me which bookmarks you want and how many of each. The only two books that I’m really limited on are Ravyn’s Flight and In Twilight’s Shadow. You can still have a bookmark for those titles, but I’ll only send one of each. :-)

After the Worldbuilding

Sunday, December 20th, 2009

With the bulk of my world building done for two different projects, I’m ready to think about the next phase. Series arc and each individual story within the arc.

These are tied together for me because each individual story needs to fit into the overarching plot. I might only know two paragraphs worth of the final story in a trilogy, but it’s enough to give an editor an idea where the story is going and I always know what the goal of each book is. I liken it to a framework of a house–you have to put up the two by fours before you can hang the sheetrock. As someone who leans more to the seat of the pants side of writing, this is a challenge for me.

In the trilogy being shopped around now, I knew my first hero and heroine and I had a fair idea of what their story was. This started out as a stand-alone idea, but when the hero’s friends made it clear they had stories, too, it morphed into a trilogy. I knew all three men were impacted by the same incident and that their inner conflicts revolved around what had happened, but it wasn’t enough to hang a series arc on. It required more thought.

It only took a few seconds to know I wanted to use the paranormal element from the first book in all three, but it seemed unbelievable unless there was some reason all three men would experience it. That took more thought, but once I had it, I had the series arc and then I knew what needed to be accomplished in each book for the series. I still needed a couple of paragraphs to blurb each book.

That’s where my characters come in. Heroes two and three made an appearance in book one, the story on which I was writing chapters. I got their personalities loud and clear. It was the heroines I needed. Heroine 2 showed up and the basic conflict between the h/h unfolded and I tied that in with the series goal.

Book three was tougher. I didn’t have a heroine talking to me here, so I used the series goal to figure out who she needed to be. And a funny thing happened–everything began to fit. I had her last name wrong, but her first name and job was right. That amazed me. And armed with this information, I put together a series overview and started working on the rest of the proposal.

Now, I have to do this again for two more series ideas. I’m closer on number one, but then this is an idea I had more than two years ago, so it’s had some time to percolate even if I wasn’t actively thinking about it. I still have logistical things to work out and lots of them, but at least I have some ideas.

Idea two doesn’t have this much yet. Things might become clearer after I do more research–this is a new idea that only came to me a couple of weeks ago. At least I’m hoping ideas gel once I know more. It’s frustrating, though, because I like having the framework and it’s tough trying to envision the final house without it in place. And I really want to be able to close my eyes and see the finished structure. With the first idea, I do have that cohesion, enough that I can spend time working out each individual story and I want this with idea two. Now. :-)

After "The End"

Tuesday, October 20th, 2009

From the time I wrote my first published story, I’ve always gotten scenes that happen after the book is over. I wish that I’d written them down because what I’ve seen on the earlier books has faded now and I don’t have a real good memory of what I was shown any longer. Why didn’t I write a brief scene with what I saw?

Good question. Part of it was being tired from all the writing I’d already done and that these were scenes I would never include in the book. Part of it was I was certain I’d never forget. Except that I didn’t factor in how many characters and scenes I would have after that particular book, including their after the book stuff and all the back stories on the characters. I know way, way more about each and every character than what goes in the books.

What has this churning for me right now is that the characters I’m working with at the moment are sharing nearly all scenes from after their story is over. Probably 90% worth. Another 9% is stuff from later in the story, which is totally not helping me with the beginning of their story. I’d be writing this down except that I’m busy trying to write the actual story. Maybe later. And this is no doubt where I’ll run into trouble with this because while it’s fresh in my mind, I’ll think I can do it later and then it will be vague.

Maybe, though, I should make more of an effort because it would be a cool feature for my website for people who want more of characters they’ve enjoyed spending time with.

Unfortunately, with the older books, it’s just too long gone now to be recreated. Here’s what I do remember:

Ravyn’s Flight: Ravyn and Damn have three boys. I’m afraid that’s all that’s left in my brain. Oh, and Stacey and Alex just have the one little girl.

The Power of Two: Cai’s father likes Jake, but it takes her mother a lot longer to warm up to him. She remained suspicious of him for a while.

Through a Crimson Veil: Sorry, I don’t remember any after the book stuff for Mika and Conor and this saddens me greatly.

Eternal Nights: A lot of this is tied in with Wyatt’s team. There are stories for Flare, Gravedigger, and the Z Man that I haven’t written. I hinted at some of this stuff in Troll’s story, which I wrote for The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance. Troll is another member of Wyatt’s team.

The Light Warriors Series: (In the Midnight Hour, In Twilight’s Shadow, Edge of Dawn, and In the Darkest Night) These are grouped together because so much of the after the book interaction involves all four couples meeting and talking. You see, the Twilight Time prophecy is unfolding and the heroines of these books play pivotal roles. It’s natural that they’d meet, discuss things, and get to know each other. Their men are there, too, of course, also with important roles.

I really like the peek in to see how my characters are doing after the end. But seriously, I need to start writing what I see down. Soon.

Making Magic

Friday, October 2nd, 2009

Over the weekend, Amazon was selling the original soundtrack to The Wizard of Oz for $3.99 and I downloaded a copy. While I was at the Evil Day Job (EDJ) this week, I started listening to it and my iPod went from the opening sequence to Somewhere Over the Rainbow. It sent a shiver down my spine in a really positive way.

I was overcome by the magic of this movie. Who didn’t see this on television as a kid and lose themselves in this world? And then I thought, wow, I tell stories, too, and the idea was overwhelmingly huge at that moment.

It never really hit me before, maybe because I’ve always had characters and stories in my head. They’ve been my constant companions from my earliest memories. When my parents dragged me somewhere boring when I was a kid, I’d find a corner and daydream my stories. When I played dolls, I had elaborate stories for Barbie and Ken to play out. When I went to bed at night as a child, I told myself stories to fall asleep because having my mom read one book wasn’t enough.

Whatever the reason, it suddenly dawned on me that I’m a storyteller, too. That I create something that would never exist without me. There would be other stories by other writers, but there wouldn’t be the stories that only I could tell. How incredible.

Every day I’m creating magic similarly to the way the makers of The Wizard of Oz created magic. Granted, it isn’t exactly the same. Movies and books are two different media and my stories are aimed at an older audience than the movie was, but it’s close enough. I’m actually having trouble finding words to describe how awed this left me when I realized it.

Stories = magic. A story world is one a reader can immerse herself in and forget about normal life for a short while. Story worlds (at least in genre fiction) have a rhyme and reason to them, things happen for reasons we can see and understand as opposed to real life where things happen for no apparent cause. The world can be as fantastic as The Wizard of Oz or as ordinary as in Friends, but it’s still a different world, a chance to escape.

And a chance to experience a kind of magic. Wow.

Why Yes, I Am a Writer

Tuesday, August 25th, 2009

I have an overactive imagination–I think most creative people do–but writers…I don’t know, we seem to have more outlandish scenario imaginations. Of course, I don’t know a lot of visual artists or dancers or other artistic types who aren’t also writers. :-) I guess birds of a type do flock together, to quote an old adage.

What I mean by scenario imaginations is that we can take something simple and create circumstances around it. Like someone is late and the next thing I know is I have an elaborate scenario involving car accidents and hospitals and surgery and what all. Then they arrive and apologize because the phone rang before the left the house. This happens to me all the time and it’s why I’m such a worrier. I try not to be, but my brain starts spinning possibilities and the next thing you know, things are out of control.

Sometimes, though, scenarios can be fun. I made an offhand joke the other week about being able to turn the rain on or off with the control for my lawn sprinkler system. Whenever I turned it on to water my lawn, it rained here. But then I started thinking, wow, what if I really could control the weather from the box in my garage? And then I thought, what if a character in a story had this kind of control? What if he didn’t know he was controlling the weather and all kinds of hell broke loose because of what he did with his sprinkler system? And if anyone uses this, I’ll know where you got it! This is my overactive imagination. :-)

Movies and television shows can get my head spinning sideways, too. It doesn’t even have to be a good movie. I saw one years ago with Richard Grieco (who was totally worth staring at in it) where he plays a high school student who has the same name as a super spy and gets mistaken for this spy. The story was pretty lightweight, but I thought, what if this happened in real life? What if someone got caught up in something out of mistaken identity?

This happens all the time, and while a lot of it never makes it into a book, sometimes it does. In the mid-90s, I jotted down one of these little what ifs. What if a man was trapped in an animated television show about his life? I even knew his name. Deke Summers. And that note sat, unused in a notebook until 2004 when Ryne showed up. For weeks, she told me about the Gineal people, but I didn’t have a hero for her. And then boom, I realized Deke was her hero and that little mind spinning from 10 years earlier suddenly became the backbone of the story.

I hate worrying about people’s health and well being, but I’d hate to lose my imagination even more. I love the what ifs. I love the stories in my head that keep me entertained when I’m stuck in a boring situation. And I can’t imagine (ha!) not having the voices in my head. How empty would that feel?

Even In My Dreams

Thursday, July 23rd, 2009

Sometimes people ask me why I write action/adventure romance. I usually end up saying something about Speed and The Terminator being my favorite movies, but it goes beyond that I think. Last night I had this dream…

The hero and heroine are strangers who have to work together if they have any hope of getting out of this dangerous situation alive. For reasons that aren’t clear in the dream, they’re both forced to go to a warehouse and receive a shipment. They don’t know what it is, but it’s in a large crate.

While they’re waiting, a blond woman strikes up a conversation with them. She’s waiting for her own reasons and she ends up giving them her shipment as well. After the crate the h/h are waiting for arrives and is offloaded, the bad guys don silver, asbestos suits that will protect them from very high heat and try to incinerate my couple. The woman they were talking to is killed, but the h/h jump in a truck (conveniently loaded with their crate and the dead woman’s) and make a mad dash escape.

The bad guys pursue and for the rest of the dream, my hero and heroine have to work together and trust each other to continue to allude the bad guys. When they finally come out victorious, they walk off into the sunrise, ready to start the rest of their lives together.

If there were more details of the mad dash chase and the victory over the bad guys, they’re long gone. Maybe driven away by the alarm or maybe they were just never there. Dreams can be funny that way.

But this is part of why I think I love action and adventure in my romance stories–I’m just wired that way. I totally wanted to just lie in bed this morning and immerse myself in this dream. Replay parts of it, work out who the h/h were and maybe see if there was something that could become a story here. There isn’t now, not from the dream alone, but if I played with it and went, “what if…?” then maybe it could become a story.

I have a lot of dreams like this–when I remember my dreams. Some of them have been prodded and shaped until I could write something down, although none of the books I’ve actually written have been dream-induced. Some of them never become more than a bedtime story I tell myself before I fall asleep.

I used to think about my Work In Progress while I laid in bed waiting to fall asleep, but I stopped doing that when it led to me not sleeping. Instead of relaxing me, my mind would rev up and try to work out problems and I’d either have to get up and write the solutions/words down or I wouldn’t work them out and get so tense as I continued to try that I’d end up with a couple hours worth of sleep. But I always imagine stories to myself while I’m lying in bed; I have since I was a child and I can’t sleep without them. My solution is to tell myself stories that I know I’ll never write. There’s no stress to unravel plot issues, no need to remember the words so that I can write them down, no driving need to pop out of bed and work. It’s perfect.

And now I have a new story. Tonight, I’ll toy with the dream and entertain myself with it.