My university grad photo is down at the bottom of the blog for anyone who's interested in seeing it.

Stuckness

I'm stuck. Not because I don't know what is going on in the story, it's a rewrite with a detailed outline, but rather because my skills have taken a leap forward.

Or, at least, I've realized some things about the craft that I never realized before. Like how to use foils. Oh, I knew what foils were before, but I just had a Eureka moment and realized how to use them. I've been using them, unconsciously, all along, but I want to make the contrasts stronger, so that they have more impact.

I can do it, but right now I'm in self-doubting, cowardly writer mode. The self-doubting, cowardly writer does write. She thinks, and spends an inordinate amount of time wishing that someone would hand her the answers.

When I was just starting to learn to write, I would hit up all of the wonderful online resources, such as Holly Lisle's wonderful website, or the SFWA's page of articles. But more and more I've been running into problems for which I can't find any resources.

Of course, the best way to deal with the problem is to write through it. The best way to learn is by making mistakes. But my nature has always been to learn as much as possible about something before attempting it.

Well, I guess it's time for this cowardly writer to step out of her comfort zone and start putting some words down on paper.

Wish me luck.

Yorick Says:

I don't care what you say. Drunk or not, it counted.

She should have told me. I deserved to know. So I haven't told her about my past. At least she knows I was married.

Pyrs Says:

I'm not a pretty boy. Just because I'm not as ugly as you.

Grey says:

Knock it off! Both of you. It's one o'clock in the damned morning. Go to bed already.

Like living with a couple of teenagers.

Yorick Says:

Oh? I'm the ass?

At least I'm not the one keeping secrets.

I hope you and pretty boy are happy together.

Jealous my ass.

Maeve Says:

If someone has something to say :cough:Yorick:cough: he can bloody well say it to my face instead of broadcasting it all over the internet.

And no. Once, while drunk, does not count.

Being jealous doesn't mean you get to act like a complete ass.

Yorick Says:

Me again. Cranky.

I have a problem. It's a girl. Naturally. Maeve. Turns out she was married. And never told me. Okay, it isn't as if we're an item. Not really. We slept together. Once. When we were drunk. But that counts doesn't it?

I might be overreacting. She's divorced anyway. I just think she should have told me.

He's a real pretty boy too.

Definitely should have told me.

Grey says:

So, as usual, it's fallen to me to make excuses for the lack of posts on the blog.

Well, the creator has been sick. Very sick. She keeps grumbling about trying out for the power-vomiting Olympics. I know. She's disgusting sometimes.

She's getting better. She actually managed to eat both breakfast and supper last night without racing down the hall to the bathroom to pray to the porcelain god.

She even wrote the first scene of the rewrite of our novel The Best Laid Plans. It's okay. It could have been better. After all, I'm not in it.

I'm not in a lot of scenes, I've noticed.

I mean, I'm only the tactical leader of the Vigilantes, it's not like I'm important or anything. Next book, she keeps telling me. You'll have more scenes in the next book. I don't believe her.

Oh. Wait. She just said that I wasn't even in the first draft of The Best Laid Plans and that if I keep whining, I don't need to be in the second.

Heh. Disgusting and mean. I'd better head off then.

Adieu,

Grey.