The Art of Comfort

Even though 85k words are written, even though I’m sloshing hip-deep through final edits, I still worry (incessantly, obsessively, ridiculously) if I’ve chosen the right writing style for book #18.

Yeah, dumb. I know.

Anyhow, here’s my latest method of getting through that. I call it the Pasta Method.

While the majority of my previous novels could be likened to light, fresh, chilled pasta salads chocked full of colorful cherry tomatoes, crisp greens, crunchy nuts and an airy lemon-kissed vinaigrette, The Hushing Days is not.

This does not make the book bad, it only makes it different. It addresses a different kind of hunger.

Sometimes we want a warm, comforting dish. We want beefy morsels stewed for hours on the stove. We want chunky vegetables muted by time and steady heat. We need dark, rich tomatoes steeped in red wine… This is The Hushing Days.

Or so I hope.

A silly thought, I know, but one that brings my roiling stomach a bit of comfort.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Blunt Edge

The Chapter Nine edits of The Hushing Days are essentially done. One wee paragraph at the end still needs tending to but that is for an entirely different character flow. Yes, I’ve reached the point where I must slip into each of the ensemble cast’s guises to work through each of the three storylines. That sounds a lot more complicated and convoluted than it really is, I promise you. Anyhow, it’s off to Chapter Ten today…

Well, that was an incredibly boring post.

Essentially pointless.

Blunt to the edge of dull.

Oh, who am I kidding? Consider this a selfie, wince in pity and move on.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Tripping

The muse and I hit the road again tomorrow; therefore…

1.) No blog on Sunday.

2.) Postings of the blog Monday thru next Saturday will be erratic in their timing. They should all 

happen but good luck to you guessing the hour.

3.) The Hushing Days will once again be tied to the backburner. I don’t suppose the manuscript will be very happy about this. Expect piteous cries.

Until Monday…

Chloe

Squirrel in the Larder

It is true. As reported last night in my potentially flammable post, I and the four-legged, furry muse are at last home!

The Hushing Days, in all its 18^th novel splendor, can finally come out of hiding and present itself properly to me for its much-delayed Final Edits…

If only it was that easy.

Alas, The Hushing Days is not a soldier under my command. It is under no obligation to do anything I say (which is pretty crappy if you ask me; I am the freaking author of it, but I digress.)

If we must keep with the military analogy, I would liken the book to a squirrel loose in my mess tent. Actually laying hands on the little scoundrel is battle enough, but trying to train it to sit quietly while I, editors, agents and publishers poke and prod its ticklish roundness is another matter entirely.

So, please, wish me luck as I try to catch the spry, tempestuous critter today. I do hope to find him before he spies the abundance of nuts in my larder.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Seedy Intentions

There are always seeds rattling around in my pocket. Little specks of storylines I like to plant in the soil of a manuscript’s early chapters.

This is all well and good… when you’re actually writing Chapter One.

However, when the cogs of progress have churned sufficiently to crank the novel into edits, this seed-laying mania is a bit not good.

Case in point: As I’ve reported this week, I have decided to jumpstart the editing of The Hushing 

Days by abandoning the corrections of Chapter Seven and turning my eraser and white-out to the always challenging Chapter One.

So, while I’m editing away at the chapter, adding this and that while marking out a whole bunch of other, I keep finding myself reaching for the seeds in my pocket…

Bad, bad author!

The editing process is not the time to add tangents, side roads or off-shoots.

Plant one seed in Chapter One and you’ll be tending it the whole novel long.

This is not the time, girl!

Or so I keep chiding myself every time I stick another storyline into the ground.

*sighs*

Maybe the 2050 book market will be hungry for a 300K The Hushing Days? One can only hope.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

An Economy of Brain -or- A Prickly Dithering

“Economy of brain” is a concept I’m trying very hard to embrace. Unfortunately, the efforts have been prickly, at best.

Let me explain.

I am a perfectionist. I don’t want to be. I rather abhor it. But there it is.

Hence, every scene I edit in The Hushing Days I give my all to getting, well, perfect.

Yet the problem is, you see, there is no such thing as perfection. It doesn’t exist, at least not where we mere mortals can reach.

Realizing this, I have to restrain my efforts in the editing process. I could literally dither over a sentence forever. (Yes, when I die at the ripe old age of 92, please be sure to put The Hushing Days manuscript in the coffin with me. The second scene in Chapter Two still needs some tweaking. Seriously. That’s my thought.)

So, I must economize the use of my brain. Spending decades on a throwaway thought is not viable. (There lies the path to madness and all that rot.)

It’s been a struggle, but I’m drawing the concept ever nearer…

Of course I haven’t got my arms quite around the bugger yet, so excuse me while I go dither around with Chapter Two, Scene Two again.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

When Simplicity Calls, Answer

Flannel slippers on an icy January morn.

A white cotton nightie on a sweltering August eve.

A sun-baked towel after a cool dip in the pool.

In other words… sweet Willoughby.

I’d truly forgotten how much I enjoy writing the character of Willoughby Fawkes. A minor major player (yes, there can be such a thing) in The Hushing Days, it has been a while since I slipped into the young woman’s skin.

I’ve missed her.

Yesterday, Chapter Two came into my editing sights, and in it I found the dear miss tapping her foot impatiently for her due attention. With all the attention my more “complicated” characters have required of me in Edits, I realized that I had been neglecting the “simple” girl who only wants someone to love.

Remember: there is never harm in crawling into simplicity.

Seek it out from time to time and smile.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Manuscript vs. Author

Negotiations with The Hushing Days’ Chapter Five went well yesterday. Neither side suffered brutal injury. While there were a few skinned knees and one ego was trampled on considerably, both writer and manuscript have agreed to return to the table today.

Hammering out of the dreaded First Edits is scheduled to continue, with a break for cupcakes and First Aid penciled down for the noon hour.

The overseeing muse, furry and four-legged, will continue to lord her opinion over the proceedings.

As per custom, all doors and windows will remain locked until the entirety of one scene is completed to the satisfaction of all parties (excluding the muse whose bullying orneriness is now accepted and ignored.)

Further updates as they become available.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Sequoia Strategy

If caught in a fiery round of First Edits with your completed novel, I advise two things…

1.) Distance

2.) A big conference table (the more ungodly long, the better)

Let me explain.

First Edits with your manuscript can sometimes dissolve into little more than a bare knuckle fistfight. Blood and gore, tears and grief are the only things you’re going to get out of these kind of negotiations.

Yes, I did say “negotiations.” That’s exactly what First Edits are. You with your red marker of death and comma-happy attitude facing off against the richly bloated storyline you’ve spent months and months feeding.

It can get, well, messy.

Here’s where Distance comes in. Take a break. Both sides take a few days off away from each other. No communication. No emails. No tweets. No scheming strategies on the back side of a napkin. Sever all ties for a bit.

Next comes the conference table. When both parties walk back into the negotiations make sure to keep a sturdy, wide-load of a table between you. Physical violence (i.e. bloodied noses, broken pinkies, etc.) is a lot less likely to occur when a sequoia must be scrambled for flesh to meet flesh.

After that, I can only wish you godspeed, my friends.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

The Culling

With The Hushing Days cruising along at a remarkably steady clip these days, the culling of subplots has begun.

It’s an ugly process I’d prefer to face blindfolded and drugged to the gills for. Alas, common sense and creative aptitude are needed in this editorial bloodbath.

Currently on the chopping block is the strained relationship between two of the “minor” brothers. This tangential storyline is not needed to support or even to enhance the main plot.

Keeping it, and all the background shenanigans that go along with it, would mean sacrificing time and space much needed for the story’s big guns.

Cutting it would mean a loss of a very interesting dynamic, one that led me to telling this story.

However, I must bow to the fact that this is being written as a romance, not as a family drama. Admittedly, it’s a small difference. Both genres usually have wide swaths of the other in their plots. One can rarely live without the other.

But when issues of space and plot strength come up, there have to be sacrifices. In this case, the family drama must go…

Or at least be pruned back substantially…

Perhaps trimmed to promote better blooming the next season could be a way of stating it?

Yeah, we’ll go with that one.

So what have we learned today, class?

Answer: a spot of personal delusion often comes with bloody hands.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

When the Panic Button Sticks...

Nuts in the backroom being bad.

In this morning’s blog I lamented on the sudden arrival of Failure on my couch. I thought the louse wearing the Writhe t-shirt was early… Nope, the boy was right on time.

Before we get to Frank (the sofa-sitting specter of Writhe’s Failure needed a name, so he got one; I hope he freaking enjoys it, too), let me report good stuff.

The second edits of “Ravenscar” (short story bought by Dreamspinner Press) were easy, not time-consuming and not particularly stomach-churning. Please remember, my big, honking huge hangup with dealing with edits. The brain short circuits into panic lickety-split. It’s painful, ugly to watch, and even uglier to clean up after.

Anyway...

I also got a couple of hundred words written on Book Two of my “Lion & Steed” series! Wow, right? I’m moving and grooving with my two main guys and I’m going to enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts.

Now, back to Frank.

I got the first round of edits for Writhe back today, along with a note from the copy editor with “concerns.” I nearly puked. We’re talking projectile vomiting, here. Not kidding. My stomach is still cramping and it’s been two hours.

Mental illness and all this chronic panic disorder crap stinks, ok? It stinks to high heaven and way, way beyond.

To make a painful and ultimately embarrassing story short, the “concerns” were easy fixes that required adding two explanatory paragraphs near the beginning and a couple of sentences  sprinkled out near the end. Thirty minutes and I was done and happy with the additions. They made the story stronger.

Of course, my little panicking brain cells (aka: the nuts in the backroom) couldn’t care less that I wasn’t being a) fired, b) flunked out of the writing industry or c)slammed as a big, freaking FAILURE.

Yeah, Frank, I’m so glad you came.

*shakes head and sighs*

Until tomorrow (when I better not hear one word out Frankie boy)…

Chloe

When Failure Calls, Serve Crumpets

Guess who I found on my couch today?

Scrambling out of the bed this morning, ready to get a brilliant start to the day, I clambered downstairs and came to a dead stop…

Failure was sitting on my couch.

He waved to me, asked for a spot of tea (because apparently Writhe failure is British) and went back to watching “Good Morning, America.”

Instead of shrieking, calling 911 or letting 15 pounds of curls and teeth (that would be my dog) at him, I simply dropped my head and sighed. The bastard was early.

With the release of each of my novels, a specter of Failure arrives. Usually they at least have the good manners to knock on the front door before barging in. I’ve come to expect the knock, often I have punch and canapés waiting for them.

But sometimes, like today, Failure just pops up on my couch, days early, and hungry for something he knows darn well I don’t have in my kitchen.

“I’ll take two sugars with that, dear,” Failure calls out from the sofa with an ice cold smile meant to intimidate.

It works.

Even my bone marrow’s sporting chill blades now.

I’m a freaking coward when it comes to Failure. Always have been, probably always will be. Unfortunately this self-awareness does diddly-squat in addressing the creep currently sitting on my couch wearing a Writhe t-shirt.

Stomping into my kitchen, I mutter a curse with my every step. I am not happy.

Usually, each novel’s Failure doesn’t show up until the edits arrive. Normally, it’s the week or so between returning the edits to the publisher and the book actually being released that the expected knock rattles my front door.

Apparently, Writhe’s Failure is a pro-active son of a bitch.

Goody.

“Will you be making crumpets?” You-know-who crows from in front of the television, little sparks of doom and gloom spitting everywhere. “I do love crumpets.”

It’s going to be a long day.

Until tonight…

Chloe

Beheading the Behemoth

Not anymore, baby!

The beast has been slain.

The behemoth has been beheaded, chopped up into little bite-sized bits and stitched back together into something freaking spectacular.

In other words, ladies and gentlemen, the infamous, oft-cursed Chapter One of Writhe is done!!!!!

Done!!

The six thousand word beginning to my multi-book series is complete and I’m actually happy with it. Really, really happy with it. *giggles giddily while high-fiving my dog*

My exhaustion is beautiful. The headache I know I’ll be getting is still a few hours away and with the change in time, I’ve still got daylight left to enjoy!

Unfortunately, I’ve got nothing left for this blog.

My apologies are sincere and I will try to make it up to you tomorrow.

Before my headache arrives, I’m off to eat ice cream!

Until tomorrow…

Chloe, the woman with Chapter One of Writhe DONE!!!!

Editng "Cheat Sheet" Part Two: The Gory Details



This could get ugly.

This evening I have far less atmospheric company with me as I rough out my late Friday blog.

Eames and Goren from “Law & Order: Criminal Intent,” the dynamic, crime-fighting duo, are busy keeping the streets of New York safe from serial killers and the like while I type. (SIDE NOTE: I love the recurring Nicole Wallace character, said to be Irene Adler to Goren’s Sherlock Holmes. That, of course, has no pertinent value here, but does hold a matter of “cool” I simply can’t resist. Color me crazy, on this one.)

Back to business…

Ticker from Madness for today’s editing/buffing/polishing of my novel Writhe due in just over a week’s time stands at…

                            4,000 words (for a total of 34K ready to head to the publisher)

I have as of yet to reach the panic stage on Writhe. It’s coming, I’m sure. Hopefully, I’ll be ready when it barrels down on me. *fingers crossed*

Proudly, I announce that I finished going through Dreamspinner Press’ first edits for my short story “Ravenscar.” I did not puke, hyperventilate or hide under a single piece of furniture.  Bravo, me!

Since, I got a lot of blog traffic from this morning’s “Editing Cheat Sheet for a Few Dollars More,” I’d like to expand on that now. Hopefully, this will help somebody out there.

Below is a list of all the corrections my copy editor made to the story. I’m not repeating the passive voice, Ethan vs. the doctor and ellipses markups. You’ll find all those gory details in this morning’s blog. (Please, someone tell me this isn’t too terribly boring. Please. *lol*)

Here we go. I’ll only give you the correct versions along with the editor’s explanation for it if provided. The changes made are in italics…

 

-“Twenty-nine-year-old Ethan” (this is always hyphenated before a noun)

-“peacoat” (one word, not hyphenated)

-“overindulgence” (one word, not hyphenated)

-“nondescript” (one word, not hyphenated)

-“premed” (one word, not hyphenated)

-“twenty-five” (numbers up to one hundred are spelled out)

-four sentences in a row began with the same letter, the editor revised changing one of them so not so repetitive

-“British intelligence” (the agency, not the state of England’s minds, is lower-cased surprisingly)

-“however” (several of these throughout the story were marked as “not needed”)

-“Ethan just people watched” (not hyphenated if not before a noun)

-“euros” (lowercase)

-“postcoital” (one word… even though my spellchecker does not agree, lol)

-“makeup” (one word)

-“pissed off” (two words, instead of one hyphenated)

-“The seventeenth” (if not paired with a month, the date is written out)

-“All right” (instead of “Alright”)

-“Ayers’s” (instead of the possessive being “Ayers’”)

 

Please remember, copy editors are not machines. They have their own opinions on how to read grammatical rules. The above might work for my copy editor, it may not necessarily work for all.

I hope this gives you an idea of what to expect from a copy editor and what to look out for while you’re polishing things up.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

Editing "Cheat Sheet" for a Few Dollars More

Lee Van Cleef

I love me some Lee Van Cleef.

Just saying.

As you may have surmised from my opening sentence of really bad English, Sergio Leone is directing my morning’s company. Clint Eastwood and his poncho are also here, as are the rest of their “For a Few Dollars More” counterparts.

All of which means, of course, I’ll be trying to whistle the theme song all freaking day. Ah, well. It’s a small price to pay for a few hours with Mr. Van Cleef (I admit guiltlessly to watching “High Noon” just for that opening shot of Lee waiting by the tree.)

While I’m sure all this Chloe-trivia fascinates you, let’s get to why you’ve graced me with a Friday morning visit. That would be, in case you weren’t aware, my authorly wisdom and insightful insight into the being-a-writer business…

Yes, well.

Shall we carry on before we all choke to death in a fit of chuckles?

I do, however, have for you a small copy editor “cheat sheet,” if you will. There are no trade secrets revealed here. This is just a little list of the things I’m always caught on when I get edits back from a publisher. I’m not sure how much this will help anyone, but I offer it in hopes that it will.

          -Ellipses, editors usually hate these. Occasionally you’ll find an editor who is Ok with them, so if you feel they are vital to the feel of your story, include them. The worst they can do is ask you to change them to periods or colons. I spent a great deal of yesterday’s “Ravenscar” edits time turning ellipses into periods. (I’ve got a hang-up with those three little dots that lead the reader on. Thankfully, I never use such things in my blog…) *lol*

          -Passive voice. Yeah, this is one I’m sure you all know about. Instead of “He was listening at the door,” it should be “He listened at the door.” After a couple dozen publications, I’ve finally gotten a better hang at avoiding these. However, I’m inevitably caught in the easy mistake a time or two each project.

          -This one is a bit tricky and really depends on the copy editor you get… Using the name of a character too often versus using a descriptor for him. Such as, “Ethan couldn’t believe…. Blah, blah, blah… but the man could believe this.” Some editors hate you using Ethan this, Ethan that. They feel it’s too repetitive (and I agree with them). However, sometimes you’ll get an editor who says that by using these descriptors instead of the actual name of the character you are causing a needless separation between the audience and the character. Don’t be surprised if you’re caught in either “wrong.” It’s simply a personal choice, not an attack on your writing skill. This is particularly true in the romance genre.

Alright, I believe I have bored you enough this morning with my silly wisdom. I’ll leave you to your day.

Meanwhile, I’m off to whistle.

Until tonight…

Chloe

Blooms on the Moustache: When Blogging Gets a Litlle Weird

Salvador Dali

After an industrious day of work yesterday, I’m flailing a bit this morning.

Could be the weather? (wet, stormy, wet)

Could be the first edits for “Ravenscar” from Dreamspinner Press waiting (waiting like a zombie hawk perched on the back of my chair, ready to tear my throat out to quench its insane thirst for a writer’s blood… um, yeah, never mind) for me to go over today?

Could be finishing up Writhe is going too smoothly” (nine days to go before the deadline and I’m good… I know that won’t last)

Could be I’m just a little crazier this morning than usual? (I’d lay money on this one, folks)

Whatever the cause, I’m a bit scatterbrained this Thursday morning. So deleting this blog entirely from your memory may be an option you’ll want to explore.

As Writhe’s deadline, and hence its ultimate release, gets ever so closer to us all, I’ll start sharing some of the nitty gritty of formatting a novel for its big journey to the publishing house. While almost every publisher will give you a list of what they want in that final format, it’s a lot easier to start working these formatting changes into your book before that final day. (Trust me. Been there, done that, still slapping back the nightmares)

Hopefully, this will give all you newbie author a heads-up… and I’ll try desperately not to make it as boring as it sounds. (Think marching bands and clowns…. Or, better yet, nix the clowns. I provide enough creepiness all on my own without having to invite rubber-nosed extras.)

Alrighty-then.

I believe I have sufficiently taken a small, needless nibble out of everyone’s day now, so I will retreat until I can sweep up my stray thoughts into something, if not pretty, at least artistic for tonight’s blog. (Think Salvador Dali… confusing as hell but definitely having its “Wow!” moments.)

Well, I hope this blog at least brought a little chuckle to your morning, as its intrinsic value is basically crap.

Until tonight…

Chloe

When the Thunder Rolls... The Approach of a Writer's Deadline

It’s far too rainy to be creative, clever, quaint or, God forbid, cheery. May this serve as a warning for anything that might happen below.

*winks wryly*

Another day of editing is planned. Fortunately, I have not reached the slash and burn stage quite yet, although it is coming soon (like a thunderhead in the west, all you can do is watch it lumber toward you and prepare to take shelter when the tornado sirens sing).

To continue with the analogy (an analogy which is painfully trite and common, but appropriate for a day in which I’m feeling a bit masochistic), once the storm of cutting scenes is past and only destruction and half-standing houses remain, it is the work of rebuilding I most fear.

Suring up the scenes that are left with fresh and potentially rushed construction is never fun. If the hysteria I spoke of in last night’s post is to come, it will come then…

Goody.

In other news, that requires no tired metaphors, I’m tickled to find another of my novels (Torched, this time) has re-entered Ravenous Romance’ Top Selling Ten. While I realize this tiny little jolt to my ego is fleeting and probably silly, I’ll enjoy my pleasure where I can take it on a soggy morning such as this.

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this before, so I’ll mention it again. I have joined not only Romance Writers of America, I have also joined my first chapter of RWA. Rainbow Romance Writers is a home for we purveyors of lgbt romance.

So, two professional organizations I now claim membership in… that probably shouldn’t make me feel quite as proud as I do, but, again, I’ll take it with a childish grin.

I believe I’ve babbled enough for this morning. I don’t know if I’ve added to or taken away from the gray of the day, but at least I’ve done something… Some days, that’s all a writer can ask of themselves.

Until tonight…

Chloe

Sand in Your Crevices: A Case of Too Much of a Good Thing

“Lawrence of Arabia” keeps me company this early Tuesday morning. Peter O’Toole’s brilliance is always welcomed in my home, and you’ll often find Claud Rains, in one of his many guises, joining me for breakfast. Mr. Rains is one of my favorite companions, an actor who always brings a smile of delight to my face no matter the hour.

So, please excuse the desert sand between my lines this morning. Having myself ridden a camel through a desert (the Sahara in Morocco, in my case), I know how thoroughly invading the sands can be. (Think personal crevices, people, and shudder.)

Anyhow, time to return to writing.

Like I reported last night, Writhe is going well. Book One of the “Lion & Steed” series should be ready to go by its Ides of March deadline.

The only problem I’m beginning to find, beside the Chapter One tribulations we will not mention this fine morning, is that I’m afraid the book’s going long. Right now, it’s over 45K and I’ve still got several big additions to make.

This is an odd problem for me. Usually, at this point in the proceedings, I’m scrambling to add to the word count. Only once or twice, have I been blessed (?) with the conundrum of having to decide what to cut.

I’m not entirely sure I’m going to like cutting anything in Writhe. Not that it’s all brilliant literature, but simply because I actually like all of the scenes (Chapter One included… just because it’s being a royal pain at the moment, doesn’t mean I don’t care, after all *smiles*).

Thankfully, when you are writing a series with the major characters continuing on to the next books, you can simply re-fit cut scenes from one book to the next. So, in a very real sense, all is not lost… or so I keep telling myself as I prepare to cut and slash.

Another 3K of edits is on the books for today. Only after I see exactly how much I will need to be cut and “reimagined” for Book Two or Book Three, will I get those nasty pruners out and start sharpening those blades (“Ravenscar,” the short story I just sold to Dreamspinner Press, took a heck of a lot of pruning and the editing blades have become, I’m afraid, dull).

*sighs*

Oh well, at least I won’t be needing to vacuum my crevices tonight. So, I, for one, call life good.

Until tonight…

Chloe