The Gorilla Glue Days

A giant, wet sponge.

That’s been my weather for the last forever… (i.e. five, excruciatingly long, “Where the crap is the sunshine in the freaking Sunshine State!?” days.)

I don’t do sponge-weather well.

At all.

While my writing is going surprisingly well and speedy, the rest of the universe seems to be dragging like a dead weight…. up a hill… made of molasses and gorilla glue.

So, in an act of supreme kindness on my part, I will not keep you here more than a bloated tic of that ever-infuriating clock.

You’re welcome.

Now, run before the sponge gets you too.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

(SIDE NOTE: This miniscule, scrawny, frankly pitiful post took THIRTY stupid minutes to write! No further proof of sponginess is required.)

The Final Stretch

And here we go!

The frantic, frenetic, final push to Quiver’s deadline on October 15 begins today.

Yippee…

(I realize there should be exclamation points latched on to that “Yippee” but I’m feeling a bit ornery this morning and simply refuse to add them. Alas, this is probably my one rebellious act of the day as there’s considerable work to do. *sighs*)

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I’ve got myself a mighty fine outline to guide my way to Quiver’s end.

There’ll be no getting lost with this baby.

No Crimean Wars popping up out of the blue… (I have a history of this. Seriously. *lol*)

No uninvited supporting characters barging their way into the last edits of the novel, flailing their arms, screaming like banshees and making a general nuisance of themselves… (‘Tis true. Another honest story. And perhaps the reason I no longer write paranormal romance, a genre which attracts last minute banshees like moths to a flame.)

Yes, it’s looking to be a relatively boring final push to the end…

And ain’t that freaking grand!

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Surprises Are Good

So there I was, busily digging up my mountain of a climax and moving it a hair’s breadth closer to Quiver’s end. Covered from head to toe in well-versed smut, I was paying little attention to anything but my fool’s errand of a task.

When I finally dragged myself out of the muck and f*ck, I was absolutely shocked to find lying at my feet a complete, utterly exacting outline of my book.

See, while I usually work off of an outline at this point of the process (only 18 days away from the deadline) rarely does the story have more than a second-cousin-once-removed relationship with that outline. During this last mad dash to the end, the novel has usually grown out of its carefully sculpted terracotta pot and blossomed in the most unusual places.

Not this time.

Nope.

Maybe it’s because of all my frenetic micro-management of the climax?

Maybe it’s because this story is an ornery, fiery, little marvel with a mind all its own?

Whatever the reason, I’ve got myself an extremely detailed, down to each scene’s POV, down to each scene’s freaking word count kind of an outline to guide me through to the end.

Wow.

I’m kind of dumbfounded by the whole thing.

You know, scratching my head and guppy-facing at the screen.

I think I’m going to like this.

Oh yeah.

I’m going to like this a whole heck of a lot.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Kicking & Screaming

A little fanfare, if you please!

*waits for the confetti and streamers to settle with a graceful hush to the floor*

I have just dragged -kicking and screaming and nipping with darn sharp teeth-  the climax of Quiver (Book Three) from the metaphorical plains of Kansas to the mountains of Colorado!

*waits for the confusion and the “WTF?”s to die down to a manageable grumble*

In other, much clearer words, I have somehow managed to shove and finagle the climactic event of Quiver from the halfway point back to the 3/5 point!

Chapter 12 (out of 20) now houses the big bang of the book.

My pyramid now leans!... (See yesterday’s blog for this sentence make any sense whatsoever.)

If you follow this blog faithfully, you’ll know this is a super, big deal. It is a terrific accomplishment that means 2 very important things.

1.) Quiver can now be said to flow energetically instead of hiccupping abruptly… Yeah!

2.) I can now shut the freak up about line graphs, pyramids, geographical metaphors requiring maps and arithmetic and storyline arcs… Party time! (Hence the earlier call for confetti.)

Pardon me while I go bask in my small but brutally fought for victory.

Have a terrific Saturday, folks!

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Quivering Point

I woke up this morning and stumbled out of bed to find a pyramid in my room.

Yep. A pyramid.

Not the pink elephant or giant gorilla most people have sucking up oxygen in their proverbial room.

Nope. I’ve got a pyramid.

Khufu-esque in its grandiosity.

A regular Giza in my den. 

Now before laments for my obviously spent sanity are begun, let me just assure you that I’m talking writing here, not psychiatry.

The challenge of Quiver’s (that would be Book Three) halfway point climax and its pyramidal storyline arc has taken on a monumentality that would have dropped even a pharaoh’s jaw.

At this point, it’s not so much about its shape as it is about its size and its immovability. I can’t get my mind around the stupid pointy thing. And as much as I shove and shovel it this way or that, the climax ain’t moving, not even a smidge.

It’s frustrating and the freaking sand is everywhere.

Digging myself out of this mess will indeed be interesting.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Power Play

Psychiatrist day.

You’ve been forewarned.

*smiles a little nervously while glancing at the clock*

Early appointment today. !2:30pm. Same doctor. New office.

Like power surges in an unreliable electricity grid, I’ve been shrugging off little jolts of threatening panic every now and again for a week now.

Stupid mind.

Tired of thinking about it actually. Let’s talk writing, shall we?

Like the trooper that I am, I have been steadily piling on words to the tail end of Book Three (that would be Quiver, by the way). Bulking up the post climactic half of the novel is key in the next week.

Once I get things (i.e. scenes, word count, sexual encounters)mmore leveled out, I can concentrate on sewing everything together. And then (hopefully)… Voila! Romance novel magic!

But first…

Psychiatrist day.

I feel another panic surge coming on. Time to go ground myself.  *smirks*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Odd Bullseye

So with climactic spike firmly attached to center of storyline graph, I soldier on…

(Now, if that isn’t an award-winning, jaw-dropping opening line, I simply don’t know what is. Sounds more like a dirge to a mathematical failure than a blog post. *rolls eyes but does, in fact, soldier on*)

Quiver (that’s the infamous Book Three’s title for all those who missed the surprise announcement yesterday) is now on track to crest at the halfway point of the festivities.

I’m now taking this as a challenge instead of a dilemma.

With that mindset, I have divided all the partial and completed scenes of the novel into three categories: Before, During and After.  Separating everything out into divisions relative to the climactic jolt has shown me that I’ve got a heck of a lot of work to do on the tail-end of this behemoth.

Well, I guess you could call that a plan of attack.

Sort of.

In the broadest sense of the word.

I’m thinking a great military mind would need more than “aim at the ass” before heading into battle, but what do I know?

Clearly nothing.

Jeez, this is going to get messy.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Premature Climax

The nuts ran a little amuck last night, so pardon the almond shavings and pistachio stains all over the floor.

(Yes, my nuttiness is multi-flavored. If I’m going to go crazy, I’m going to do it gourmet dammit. *smirks*)

But that is neither here nor there. I’m here to talk writing.

As I confessed several days ago, Book Three of “The Lion and the Steed” series is suffering from storyline arc issues.  Premature climaxing, to be exact.

After many hours of struggling with this potentially tacky situation, I’ve come to the decision to simply let it go.

No extraordinary measures will be taken.

No special forces will be deployed to delay orgasm.

The climax will be allowed to climax whenever the “writhing” and the “pounding” end and turns to explosive “quivers.”

Surprise!

A premature climax has just occurred right here in this blog!

The title of Book Three is, indeed… “Quiver”!

See? Sometimes a little early fulfillment is a very good thing.

*grins*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Surrender: The Crooked Mule

With an unspeakably busy week of writing ahead of me, I plop down in front of you already pooped.

In fact, that sentence right there taxed me to the point of yanking the white flag out of my pocket and flailing it in the faces of the world-at-large.

*flail*

*flail*

*flail*

Yeah, well, all that did was make me look stupid. Even my dog is looking at me funny and she’s used to my nonsense.

Shall we begin this again?

Good morning.

My trip back to Florida went very well yesterday, although my back is claiming otherwise. You’d think I’d ridden those 7 hours on the back of a crooked mule the way it’s aching.

(Personally, I think the stress of the upcoming three weeks of deadline-chasing writing is a major factor in its general ouchiness. But my back is convinced otherwise and is flagging donkey torture. I’ve learned not to argue with a body part… the inevitable schizophrenic talk grows tedious quickly. *smirks*)

Anyhow, October 15 is the deadline for Book Three and I’ve got about 20K to go.

Reasonable.

In a donkey torture kind of a way.

*stuffs the white flag back into my pocket*

I think I might be needing this later.

Have a painless Monday, everyone.

I won’t.

*sighs quite pitifully*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Herald & the Cat Call

Feel free to sound a trumpet or two.

My creative juices are once again bubbling, spitting fire and passion like a real “smut” champ!

I knocked down the required 500 words on Book Three yesterday without a single hiccup…

The fact that I simply fleshed out scenes that were only dialogue before is neither here nor there (the easiest way to bulk up the word count in any book).

Trumpet noise is still deserved.  

It is.

Really.

Alright, at least I deserve a rollicking whistle.

*a single cat call rises from the audience, along with a rude gesture that makes even this smut writer blush*

Thank you.

I think.   

Anyhow, I have 7 hours of driving/riding/not-panicking-like-a-moron to do today, so I’ll leave you here.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe                                      

Everybody Blow!

All creative juices dried up and blew away yesterday.

In fact, little flakes of “would be-Book Three” are still drifting through the air around me this morning.

While I would normally mourn this loss of potential literary greatness (yes, yes, delusions of grandeur for a glorified smut writer, I know *lol*), I find myself rather “blah” about the whole situation instead.

*sighs*

 I think the reversion of rights thing I mentioned yesterday is still weighing on me a little.

It’s kind of a downer, you know?

Sucks that wind right out of my always struggling sails.

Deflates like a pissed-off porcupine in a room full of balloons…. Sorry. Told ya no creative juices flowing.

Hopefully, I’ll get my feet out of the mud today.

Hopefully.

I might need the aid of a tow-truck though.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe                                             

Hence the Tizzy

Pardon my tardiness, but I’ve been in a bit of a tizzy this morning.

Nothing alarming. Nobody needs to be pulling the fire alarms or alerting the medical professionals in the spiffy white coats.

I’ve just been unexpectedly busy with writing business.

Yesterday, I was informed by Ravenous Romance that they will be returning the rights of five of my novels to me. While this is all part of the publishing business, it took me a bit off guard yesterday (i.e. I panicked, ran down the hallway wailing, arms flailing like the whole world had just caught fire. Yep. It was ugly.)

After an emergency chat with my literary agent who assured me that this was in fact good news, I calmed down and got back to work. But I did put off return correspondence until this morning.

Hence the lateness of this blog.

Hence the use of the words “tizzy” and “tardiness” in the same sentence.

Hence my ending this post right here before I embarrass myself more.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Knot Confession

Shortcomings stink.

In my efforts to finagle the climax of Book Three back to at least the final third of the novel (SIDE NOTE: see storyline arc issues in yesterday’s blog for all the gory details), I’ve run face-first  into a literary shortcoming of mine.

*the blogging crowd gasps*

Yes, even I, the crazy and masterful Chloe, have shortcomings.

A few.

Tee-tiny ones of the “blink and you’d miss them” kind.

*four-legged, faithful companion rolls over on her back and giggles hardily*

Fine.

I’m a big old knot of shortcomings. Where one ends, another begins. One fault rolls right into another with nary a break of brilliance in between…

Ok.

That might be kind of extreme, but sometimes it sure feels like the case. And when out of nowhere you break your nose on a shortcoming, the knot theory rises from the ashes and roars. (Yeah, yeah, mixed metaphors, I know. Apologies.)

Anyhow, yesterday, my inexperience with writing hard-core, strictly non-sexual action scenes (i.e. fist-fights, car chases, etc.) jumped out of the shadows and kicked me in the shins.

Ouch.

I hate writing-ouches. They bruise spectacularly and swell up like really bitchy blisters.

*sighs*

Oh well.  

The reaction is probably just another shortcoming of mine.

Darn, stinking knot.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

A Conundrum Rises

Rejoice! Sanity has returned to this blog.

(No. That does not mean we’re having a guest blogger, but your humor is very much appreciated. Thank you.)

I am simply on much steadier keel this morning, a fact you and my dog are free to celebrate gaily.

With this return to relative stability, however, came an opportunity for me to look objectively at Book Three of “The Lion and the Steed” series’ storyline arc. You know the line graph that should show a peak (climax) about ¾ to 4/5 toward the end?

Yeah, well.

What does Book Three have?

Think a perfect upside down V.

Climax sitting high and proud right smack dab in the middle of the story.

Uh oh.

What does a writing lass do about this?

Not quite sure.

I’ll get back to you on that when I figure it out myself.

Wish me luck.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Stuck in Gear

This is how my mind works.

Feel free to look away.

In an unusual move on my part, I’ve got an appointment at 9am today. (Car needs some dealership love.)

Why is this unusual, the enquiring mind may ask?

Whenever humanly possible, I do not do early morning appointments.

Why?

I don’t sleep the night before. I obsess and worry and obsess some more over it all freaking night, not allowing a wink of restful sleep to be had.

Yeah, I know. I’m a pitiful human being who needs a little dealership love herself. *smirks*

Anyhow, last night I actually slept well. Didn’t think about the appointment at all. Even managed to have a nice dream tucked in between the “I’m a horrible person and this is why” nightmares.

Bravo me, right?

Well, all that success proceeded to go straight down the drain when I woke up and began obsessing, obsessing, OBSESSING about this blog. It went something like this…

“What am I going to write about?”

“Can I get it written before I leave?”

“I need to get it written before I leave.”

“But can I get it posted before I leave?”

“I really, really need to get it posted before I leave.”

“But I can’t think of anything to write about.”

“What am I going to write about?!”

“Since I don’t know what I’m going to write about, there’s no way I can get it written before I leave.”

“I need to get it written before I leave!”

“What the freaking f**k am I going to write about??????!!!!”

Etc.

Etc.

We’ll end this little exercise right here. I believe I’ve embarrassed myself enough for this morning.

Good day.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Be It Daisy or Cackle?

Ambivalence is a bitch.

*steps away from the blog microphone, completely satisfied with this day’s posting effort*

Or…

*looks down in surprise at finding herself back at the mike*

Maybe…

*sighs and embraces the waffling*

Ambivalence is simply empathy.

Of course, ambivalence could also be telltale sign of complicated trust issues my psychiatrist would probably be happy to speak to you about.  

At this point in the blog, ambivalence is just a really long word I’m not awake enough to be spelling ad infinitum this early on a Monday morning.  

However the heck you want to define it, ambivalence for a certain crucial supporting character in my much ballyhooed Book Three has been whopping me upside the head for a while now. (Somebody want to check me for concussion symptoms, please?)

Anyhow, I can’t decide whether I should deck “Character X” all out in “I’m an evil antagonist!”-wear (i.e. the proverbial black hat, black coat, mad scientist cackle) or whether I should stick a nice, pretty daisy somewhere on the guy just for contrast and WTF-ness.

I always try to write my “bad guys” with as much ambivalence as possible. I like giving them a reason for the crap they’re doing, a reason we can all somehow identify with.

But…

Sometimes a bad guy is just simply bad. End of story.

I can’t quite grasp which way I should go with Character X in this story.

Should I go daisy?

Or go cackle?

*shakes head and gives up*

Ambivalence is a pain.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Mice Will Play

While the cat’s away, the mice will play…

Or so I’ve always been told. I’ve been lucky enough not to have to deal personally with too many of the beady-eyed vermin in my life, so I’ve just assumed the old saying was true.

Well…

*coughs into hand, cheeks pinken slightly at the foolishness about to be said…*

Apparently, my half-written Book Three is suffering from a nasty case of rat infestation.

Really.

After a week of not touching, not even peeking at the darn thing, I innocently opened up the 23K+ words yesterday and screamed… (Well, not literally. Even I have a crazy limit.)

Anyhow, all 23K+ words of little ol’ Book Three had apparently taken my week away in the mountains to run amuck amongst themselves.

Really.

There is no way I left that novel in that condition!

Scenes all helter-skelter…

Order a foreign concept…

Bits here…

Bits there…

Bits every-freaking-where!

And since I am a very orderly (sane), very disciplined (sane), very experienced (Hello! 16 novels and counting!) writer this mess is clearly, inarguably NOT MY FAULT!

Really.

I blame the mice.

So there.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Return

With twigs still knotted in my hair and the cloying scent of bear dung to my shoes, I return from the mountains sane and marvelously fresh!

If you ignore the “bear dung” thing…

And if you allow a loose interpretation of the “sane” thing.

*smirks*

*then whips out the binoculars and checks the blog auditorium for any speck of attendance*

*curses the house lights for blinding the seat view*

This is the point where I sincerely hope I’m not up here yapping at an empty room.

I’m perfectly aware that there are better blog-shows out there. Competition is fierce, and I know I’m at a distinct disadvantage.

While other blogs might have sequined and fancily feathered show barkers touting their blogger’s wares, I only have a certifiable nut of a writer and 15 pounds of four-legged fur and fury to lure you kind folks in to my show.  

So, what I’m saying is this… I appreciate all of you who have hung with me and the pushy canine through our week away. Thank you.

Now, on to the show!

*pushy canine rolls eyes*

I am very proud and very shocked to report that I did not write a single word during the entirety of my vacation!

I did not check my email once!

I did not even muse about future or current storylines in my normally work-obsessed brain!

And, this is the really “WTF? You’re kidding me!” part, I came out of the mountains as sane as I went into them!

As a side note, I also managed not to alienate any of my family members with my admittedly weird/crazy/nutty/”You really need help” antics…

*pauses, reconsiders, then nods*

Yeah, you’re right. That deserves a “WTF? You’re kidding me!” too.

So added.

Anyhow, back to work today with a little over a month left until Book Three’s deadline. I need to average around 700 words a day to get it done which is definitely doable if not a little groanable.

I just hope I didn’t drop my ability to write into that huge pile of bear dung outside our cabin’s door.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Coming Silence: The No-Blog Week Begins Tomorrow

*places a bullhorn firmly to lips, wipes nervous sweat from brow and announces…*

I’m going on vacation!

*waits for lightning to strike her dead*

*after a few moments of continued survival, risks a small smile and furthers…*

Not only am I going away to an actual tourist spot with the entirety of my family, I am staying at a cabin way up on a mountain where WI-FI does not reach.

*gulps*

That’s right.

Cut off.

Completely.

Which means…

*nervously checks both flanks for the Four Horseman and their apocalyptic crew*

No blog.

For a week.

*downs an unhealthy shot of Pepto-Bismol*

For the first time since January, a new Chloe Stowe blog will not grace the world every day.

This will in fact be the last blog until my return to wireless humanity next Saturday.

I think I’m going to be sick.

To say that I’ve come to rely on the regularity of writing this blog every darn day like a crutch would be entirely correct and very insightful on your part. Well done.

So, a little bit of nausea is expected, right?

Yeah, well, we’re just going to pretend it is and move on.

I will be back.

And you will be back to read my nonsense… right?

Yeah, well, we’re just going to trust that you will be and move on.

*straightens spine, holds head high, and departs with minimal nervous twitching*

Until next Saturday…

Chloe

Sex.

Sex.

It’s a three letter word that takes about 3.2 million words to talk about properly.

Try to describe it properly and you’re adding another 1.7 million to the word fray.

Describing sex in all glowing, romantic terms piles another 7.3 million to the “Are you freaking kidding me?” total.

Sex.

It’s a boon to the romance author.

But it’s a godsend to the erotica writer.

If you need to fill out a chapter with another 2-5k, pop in a sex scene.

If you’re writing erotica, an extra sex scene is always welcome, and probably bumps your readership up a tick or two to boot.

If you’re writing more mainstream romance, you’ll have to work a bit harder to get that sex scene to fit in properly, but we all know it can be done.  Closeness between the two main characters is always eaten up by the audience, and to an experienced romance partisan it is a breeze to write.

Sex.

For every novel, I write my sex scenes in blocks.

Generally, I set aside 15k of a 50K novel for pure x-rated action.  So, I usually end up writing the scenes out of context and dumping them in the Sex Scene Depository for that particular book.

Then, when I’ve gotten all of the non-sex action of the story down, I’ll scoop up a sex scene from the depository and plop it down in place. Of course, then I’ve got to personalize it with context, and shade it to the mood of the storyline moment. But at that point of the novel, those kinds of details are pretty enjoyable and easy to do.

Sex.

I suppose every writer deals with it differently. My handling of it is probably a bit absurd, but I share it with you just the same. Hope it helps those newbie writers out there.

Sex.

It’s a darn marvelous thing.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Trade-Off

After doing little more than hen-pecking at Book Three yesterday, I am feeling appropriately guilty and glum this morning.

In a disturbing schizophrenic-like twitch, I feel the need to defend myself to, well, myself.

(SIDE NOTE: a line of question marks in bold print would certainly be appropriate here, but seeing as it would mar the sleek, sporty lines of this blog, I leave them to your own imagination.)

A long day on the road, followed by rough-housing with the best 4 year old little boy in the entire universe (i.e. my nephew) and my creative juices were little more than spotty in their flow.

A hundred words here, another fifty there and I was done… “Put a fork in me, call in the kids, it’s time to eat!” kind of done.

So, I’m doing the Guilt thing this morning.

Mix in some incredibly ugly skies and we’ve got some Glum flowing too.

Not fun.

But…

Yesterday was fun.

My nephew is definitely, absolutely, inarguably worth a speck of guilt and glum hangover on my crazy part.

It is a trade-off I’d make every freaking, fun day.

*grins past the guilt and the glum*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Summer Fallen

September is great and all, but…

*shakes head, not going there*

I mean, the month definitely has its perks.

The return of football.

The final weeks of the playoff push in baseball.

The arrival of the new seasons of primetime lineups.

Halloween being only a month away.

Christmas being only 3 months away.

Summer being only 6 or 7 or 8 loooong months away…

*slaps hand across mouth, before finally giving up*

Ok. I admit it. September can be kind of a bummer when you’re a summer/garden/9pm sunset kind of a gal like me.

I mean, I had to pull up my tomatoes and tomatillos just the other day. How utterly cruel is that?

The milkweed pods have burst into their fuzzies.

The cucumber vines are toast.

The pentas and snapdragons are having their last hoorahs.

The zinnias and marigolds are drooping and fading away.

Daylight no longer lingers, softening the blow of the falling night.

*sighs pitifully at the bags of dirt that won’t be needed until next spring*

Sure, September is great and all, but…

Yeah, but.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

To Sip the Bittersweet

Wading my way through the spent confetti and weaving around the empty champagne bottles in my head, I come to you this Tuesday morning with a huge, unwieldy smile upon my face.

No, don’t be alarmed.

I haven’t finally gone over the deep end.

My nut (brain, mind, messed up grey matter between the ears) is still holding its shape despite the cracks.

I’m still the friendly side of sane.

But I am happy and a bit proud of myself, I must admit.

Yesterday, I heard from my literary agent and she LOVED my outline for the “Six Brothers” project!!

If you’ll remember, the Six Brothers is my mainstream Revolutionary War-era romance I’ve been working on for most of the year. A month or so ago I finally got the huge chapter outline done and sent off to my agent for her thoughts.

Well, it turns out her thoughts are all good, if not a tad on the tremendous side!

She wants me to get to work on it ASAP. So as soon as I get Book Three in the books, so to speak, I’m turning my attention to prison ships, to Red Coats and Colonials, to war and peace, love and hate…

*giggles nervously as a tide of nausea rolls in*

Ok. I’m exhausted just thinking about it. Not to mention the urge to toss my cookies everywhere.

Ah, sweet success.  Ain’t it vomit-inducing?

*lol*

Until tomorrow…

Chloe