Where's the Panic Button?

Hello, Darlings!

It’s been a while since I gave a personal update. I am sure you are all grateful, but the time for gratitude has come to an end. Believe me—after this post those of you who can do so without combusting will probably pray that I revert back to a state of sullen silence.

I’ve been quiet with good reason, you see. No, one of the minions did not escape and ply my mouth with duct tape, though that would have been fun, would it not? I’ve hit the final stretch of my novel. We are talking mere teens when it comes to word count. While most would see this as a cause for mass celebration, I’ve done little but panic. And write…and panic some more. Not to mention the cleaning and shopping sprees that I use by means of procrastination. 

Why can I not have one of these?

I wonder what pressing it does. Would the world end? Would the ceiling open up and vast amounts of confetti and glitter rain down in a sparkly shower? Hmm…perhaps blood. Yes, that’s it. Blood and feathers. Surely panic looks like the inside of a chicken coop once the fox slips in and all the birds realize they are about to fall victim to a slaughter. *small smirk*  Poor little dears.

As for me, I am wondering how to wrap things up. I’m struggling with how to tie up loose ends without cinching them off completely. It is not something I’ve had to do before, but a second book is already begging to be written, and perhaps a third before these characters have had their full say. I don’t think anyone would complain. Seir is quite amusing between his contradictions and sarcasm. Not to mention his unique take on the world and its occupants in general.

I must find a way to be a clever, clever girl and present this in a way that it could stand on its own, yet beckons to readers to return for a second helping. PANIC. I don’t even want to think about marketing right now, or where to turn when it is all said and done. All of this is truly beyond my ability to comprehend at the moment.

Hell, the mere thought of ME actually finishing a novel, let alone in under a year is unthinkable. Brace yourselves, darlings. This may very well be a sign of an impending apocalypse. I’m sure those who know me will agree.

In the meantime, feel free to share any input, as well as your stories about that shiny red button and what it might do! I truly AM curious.

~Best wishes always~

Verbal Warfare: When Muses Attack

I’m sweating and covered in an odd shade of green paint. If you think the life of a fledgling writer leaves something to be desired in the glamour department, try being a property manager! This shade lurks somewhere between sea foam and teal. Not a flattering hue when set against my vampishly pale skin. I do believe it is hindering my undead glow. *pouts*

Yesterday, while scraping and sanding the porches, my muses started a rather vicious exchange with each other. I share this because I’m fairly confident I’m not the only writer whose characters pick the most inopportune times to start stretching their vocal chords. Odd considering how they have no problem shrouding themselves in silence when I attempt to write, but they have no qualms about tossing their two cents in when a situation has nothing to do with them.

The exchange started with Seir. No surprise there. He often tags along like my shadow, and I enjoy the fallen one’s sarcasm and biting wit—just not when I’m dripping sweat in 90 degree heat with sweltering humidity.

Seir: It is far too hot for this.

Me: *dry snort*

Zeruch: That IS funny. Why complain, Seir? I would think you’d be used to this sort of climate given where you come from.

(Seir gives a lazy, condescending smile. I roll my eyes. The last thing I’m in the mood for at this point is a verbal exchange between these two.)

Seir: I don’t believe I asked you for your input. *he turns his attention back to me* Hire one of those pygmy humans to do the grunt work. I want to go inside.

Zeruch: You are beyond lazy.

Seir: And you are an annoyance I could do without. It just goes to prove some things never change.

Zeruch: Or improve.

Seir: I am flattered you think there is still room for growth, but it is hard to improve upon perfection.

Zeruch: You are far from perfect.

Seir: Hmm. As I recall, you used to be quite … fond of me. *he dons an innocent look* Was it something I said?

Zeruch: Said? When you fell, I tried to retain some measure of love for you, no matter how distant or small. Given what you are and all that you have done, I had no choice but to change my mind.

Seir: Did you now? *perks up* That is excellent news. I hope your new one comes with an improved performance rating.

And so they went, back and forth, while I did my best not to snicker or run inside to jot some of their lines down. Thankfully, the neighbors didn’t seem to notice the two muses reclined against the steps as I slaved and toiled in the midday sun. It did make me wonder how many other writers suffer through moments like these. Do your characters pop up in the most unlikely of places? Do they engage in verbal warfare among themselves or with you when they’re left unattended for too long? Do they offer running commentary on mundane things that have nothing to do with them or their story?

*looks around with shifty eyes*

Please tell me I’m not alone in this. Please?

Almost there . . .

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season! And to those of you who don't celebrate this time of year, I hope you had a fantabulous weekend, just the same. *smiles*

We're almost through the first decade of the new millennium. It's a strange feeling, knowing that so much has already changed on both a personal and global scale, and I'm sure the next ten years will bring about even more growth. Some of the changes have been welcome advances, and others not so much. But whatever the case is, change is inevitable. Might as well embrace it!

As usual, I find myself winding down after the holidays and looking back with that whole "year-at-a-glance" mentality. I've grown as a person, become a little kinder and more patient when it comes to others and their short comings. I mean, even as awesome as I am, have  a few. Even my outlook on writing has matured, going from hobby to . . . well . . .whatever it is that this new path will bring. I have faith though.

I know it's time, but I think 2010 finally forced me to grow UP. Even if just a little bit.

If you're anything like me though, you find yourself looking back at some of the not so good things about the past year--the struggles, the failures, the hardships, and looking at the calendar with just a wee bit of hope. I think somewhere deep down, we all look at the upcoming year and tell ourselves this will be the one . . . the one where things get better for us, or easier somehow. We count down the days and tell ourselves "almost there."

I'm not big on making resolutions, but I am big on hope.

I hope 2011 brings you all that you dreamed of and more. I hope this is the year all of your dreams come true. Don't forget though, that regardless of the struggles and hardships we think we are facing, no one can make those dreams come true but you. Work hard and strive---never stop reaching for those stars.

I'm going for the moon.

And now a little vampire humor, just to make you laugh. I apologize to all you Twilight fans. I've got nothing against Edward, or the series. In fact, I enjoyed reading them...but Eric Northman will always be the one who makes me smile:

~Best wishes and happy writing!~
Adriana