Until it becomes habit

Humans are for the most part creatures of habit. There are a few rebellious folks who pick up their lives and completely change them every few years, but for the most part- we’re beings who follow patterns.

This is true for many things in life- like say fitness and writing :).

I’ve been slowly working towards getting healthy over the last few months. I work out at a gym 3 days a week (weights) and I do 3.5 mile walks 2 a week, and a long walk at least one day on the week-end. I started slowly and built my way up until it’s become a habit. Now don’t get me wrong, I still don’t really LIKE having to work out like this- especially since I have a day job which means I’m up at 5am to inflict this torture upon myself. I like having done it.

But it has become habit.

If I don’t go during the week, I feel off. Just like something is just a tad off but nothing major. And I definitely notice a difference when I get back into my routine the next day. Weight loss is slow, but my body is adapting happily to my new habit.

Writing needs to be a habit.

I recently have had some stressors kicking my life around lately and I fell off the writing wagon. It started slowly, working on edits and convincing myself that I shouldn’t start my new book yet. Then life started getting messy and even the edits stopped.

Now I feel about writing like someone who is looking at all those folks at the gym in panic and confusion. My writing “gait” is off because I let go of my habit.
I’m now trying to get my writing habit back in place- stronger than before. I’ve always been more of a writing when I want to person, but there was never a set goal. I was lucky that since I love writing not having a set goal wasn’t a problem. Until now.

So, I’m looking for help, suggestions, ideas, to really make this essential to my well being, to make this such an ingrained habit that when I miss a day I actually ache.

Monday Motivation!

Here's today's photo prompt- have at it! Are your characters lurking here?

(This is a public domain photo ;))

What about Voice?

As writers, one of the most obscure comments (good or bad) can be about voice. “I love your voice” can be just as confusing sometimes as, “I don’t hear your voice”.

So just what is “voice”?

"From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

Writer's voice is the literary term used to describe the individual writing style of an author. Voice was generally considered to be a combination of a writer's use of syntax, diction, punctuation, character development, dialogue, etc., within a given body of text (or across several works). Voice can be thought of in terms of the uniqueness of a vocal voice machine. As a trumpet has a different voice than a tuba or a violin has a different voice than a cello, so the words of one author have a different sound than the words of another. One author may have a voice that is light and fast paced while another may have a dark voice.

In creative writing, students are often encouraged to experiment with different literary styles and techniques in order to help them better develop their "voice". This aspect varies with the individual author, but, particularly in American culture, having this asset is considered positive and beneficial to both the writer and his or her audience."

This helps a bit; I liked the musical instrument example. Not so sure about the statement about one author having a light voice and one having a dark voice. There maybe some authors for whom all of their books are dark or light, but I think many of us change depending on the story being told.

I like to think of Voice as the combination of my own storytelling style, my personality, and the story itself. I also think skill level and experience play a major part- the more comfortable a writer is playing in their sandbox, the more their natural voice will come through. I currently have four different books/series in the editing- submitting pipeline. Each one is different in style, but from folks who have read more than one, I’ve been told they “sound” like me. Aka, my voice is coming through even though I write differently for my fast paced space opera as opposed to my Victorian SF. So voice is not a single snapshot of an author’s writing. It’s going to flow and change depending on the project and the authors’ experience.

I think there is no absolute- THIS is your voice and how to build it rule (just like there is no rule for how to write ;)). I believe people find their voices from the choices they make and who they are. If a writer relaxes, and listens to their heart while writing- they’ll find their voice. It’s not something to be learned, it’s something to be discovered.

Monday Motivation- returns!

Ok folks- I had some emails asking about the monday motivation- aka the photo writing prompt portion of this website.

IT's BACK!

Here's the rules- I post a picture- you decide what it means. Use it to start a new idea, for a writing sprint, to jog something stuck in your brain- your call.

No need to post here unless you want to ;)

When did you know you were a writer?

Today I'm musing about when I knew I was meant to be a writer. My first inkling was in 5th or 6th grade- I recall a teacher having us write a small play for the class. I don't recall much, but it had cats and I had to use that old blue copy paper.

I was so excited, creating something out of nothing!

But then...nothing.

Until I was about 13. I'd just fallen in love with Star Wars and wanted to tell my own story! It wasn't even about space, the movie, or anything SFish. All I recall is that I took a number of the names...and that the main character had a best friend who had a brother who looked ALARMING like Mark Hamill. Story never got finished, but again I remember being excited about creating the images on paper (I think boys kept distracting me during this time).

Then late teens- started a new REAL story. My first book! I loved it and I loved writing it...but only got 175 pages in. I think my obsession with boys brought me down again. The story was finished (I had an ending) but it never got completed.

Forward a few years later- started ANOTHER real book. Finished this one, and wrote the next in the series (yeah yeah- first time author starts with a trilogy, but at the time I thought that was a good idea ;)).

Graduate school got in the way this time. Set aside the completed books (and the third which was 50 % done.

Then a few years ago I got back into writing. This time something was different, the thrill of creating new worlds, and meeting new people grew! Nothing and NO ONE in my life has dimmed that draw this time. Now I KNOW I am a writer.

Some folks start writing young and keep it up their entire lives. So of us take a longer route to get there- needing the write combination of life experiences and dreams to finally push us over the edge.

What about you- when did you know? What has you path been?

GUEST BLOGGER: LISA KESSLER-Characters make the Story…

Hi everyone –

Thanks to Marie for inviting me over to her blog today!

My life has been a crazy whirlwind for weeks now and the book blog tour for Night Walker continues in its quest for World Domination… One blog at a time!

Muahahaha! *ahem*

Sorry, it’s starting to get to me, can you tell? LOL

Anyway, now that I’m finally able to share Night Walker, it’s been rewarding to hear people tell me that they “loved” Calisto, or were “worried” for Kate. In order for a story to work, you need to have characters that the reader can care about and root for. Without them, even the best laid plot won’t keep readers turning pages.

When I first started writing and publishing, it was short stories.

Horror short stories to be specific.

I had very few words to create characters that a reader would care about enough to be frightened for them, or conversely, to loathe and be terrified to meet them in a dark alley. It was a great training ground as a writer to learn to use as few words as possible to create a character that a reader connected with.

Short stories also taught me to develop character quirks. They don’t have to be huge, but a quirk can help make a character more memorable and lifelike. We all have quirks, some larger than others, but ask any friend you’ve known for a long time and they can probably give you a list of your quirks.

Anyway, Calisto has a habit of answering questions with another question. By the end of the book, I found his quirk endearing. I’m sure it was infuriating at times for other characters in the book, but it also made Calisto more than just an immortal. It gave him a little touch of human… :)

So do you have any quirks you’re willing to share? Have you given any of your fictional characters quirks? I hope you’ll share…

And if you’re interested in checking out Night Walker, you can find the links to grab a copy and excerpts from the book here…

http://www.entangledpublishing.com/night-walker/
Lisa
I’m very chatty online, so feel free to connect! :)

http://Lisa-Kessler.com

http://lisakessler.wordpress.com

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http://facebook.com/LisaKesslerWriter

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http://goodreads.com/LisaKessler

GUEST BLOGGER: GABRIELLA HEWITT: SECRETS!

I’ve Got A Secret…

We keep secrets. We tell secrets. We pursue secrets. It's all part of human nature.

Paparazzi, private detectives and nosy neighbors make it their mission in life to dig up every secret there is. Secrets can be worth a great deal to the right people and worth nothing at all to others.

I stumbled across a website called Post a Secret.Post a Secret It's a multimedia project in which people can write down their secrets on a postcard anonymously and send them in. The postcards on the website display secrets that are funny, embarrassing, heart wrenching and even weird. The project's concept is an innovative way to get people to express themselves and relieve some of the weight of carrying their secrets.

Face it, secrets can be a burden. They shape us, affecting how we behave and how we deal with other people. Big secrets can make it next to impossible to really get close to someone. There's always the fear that your secret will be exposed and all that you had will come crashing down around you.

Secrets are the fodder of mystery writers or any writer wanting to add tension to characters and plot. How many mysteries have you read where the killer was someone who killed to protect her secret? Not everyone who holds a secret is a homicidal maniac in waiting. Sometimes secrets are thrust upon a person through fate or the machinations of others. It takes strength of character to hold on to some secrets. In my novella Out of the Shadows my heroine Carolina carries a secret. It is a secret that has been passed down through her family for generations. It is now her responsibility to maintain this secret even at the cost of her life.



In celebration of the 1st book in the SHADOW WARRIOR series, I am holding a contest. Follow me & the tzitzimime (celestial demon and nemesis of Shadow Warriors) on the blog tour and leave a comment to be entered to win a $25 gift certificate from Samhain Publishing. It’s that easy!
All entries must be in by August 24th. The winner will be declared on the blog August 26th. Contest starts June 5th and ends midnight August 24th (EST).One winner will be chosen at random for the prize.

EBOOK Order
Samhain Publishing http://store.samhainpublishing.com/out-of-the-shadows-p-6410.html

When the last shadow warrior falls, so will all humanity.

With each demon he vanquishes in service to the Aztec sun god, Tomás fulfills his duty to defend humankind—and surrenders another piece of his humanity to his wolf spirit. All hope seems lost until a mission leads him to the door of the one thing he thought he’d never find…his spirit mate. The only woman who can save him from oblivion.
When Carolina hears the wolf’s howl, it pierces the very core of her lonely heart. Yet she dare not answer. As the last guardian of her land and the secret it contains, she is haunted by the mistake that cost the lives of her family. Never will she repeat that mistake, especially with a warrior who is more beast than man.
Chasing away the demon is easier than breaching the barriers around the heart of the young woman who possesses a strange power over water—and his very soul. But if they are to survive the night, he must convince her they are destined to stand together.

***EXCERPT***

A wolf’s howl pierced the desert silence, causing the animals to stir restlessly in their stalls. Wolves had been reintroduced into Arizona, but she had yet to see or hear one so close to her ranch. Was it an omen?

Carolina paused in her chores to stare out the open barn door into the gathering darkness.

For a moment, she let herself get caught up in the long, solitary note. It felt like a kindred spirit. She knew loneliness intimately. Only her loneliness did not come from the vast miles of the sun-parched Sonoran desert that surrounded her, but out of the necessity to protect her goddess, her land’s secret. As one of the few amongst her people to become a guardian, her choices were limited.

The one occasion she’d invested herself in another, he’d betrayed her. She’d foolishly placed her hope and trust in Billy and she’d paid a horrendous price. Her desire to find someone to share the workload, her joy and sadness, and the burden of her secret—just as her parents had done—had blinded her to the trap she’d walked into. By the time she understood what was happening, it was too late. Her parents were dead.

Her heart weighed heavy in her chest as if it had happened recently and not five years ago. The memory of her parents lingered too close to the surface today. This had been their land, their dream, and now it was hers to fight for. She’d vowed never to fail them again. Above her own needs came the higher purpose of protecting her goddess at all costs.

Her mare, Mariposa, snorted and reared up, pulling Carolina from her thoughts. The animals had been growing edgier with each passing minute. They sensed the evil that blew in with the warm desert breeze. She berated herself for not paying more attention to them.

Goose bumps prickled her skin. Her tattoo, a gift from the goddess, began a slow burn on her shoulder, a sure sign that evil was approaching. She felt the heat radiating through the fabric of her denim shirt. The last time she’d experienced the odd sensation, her world had fallen apart.

Cautiously, she turned her head, seeking the source.

Her breath came out in a gasp.

Less than ten feet away sat a magnificent gray wolf, watching her. Waiting.