Shoes for a Friday afternoon.

Does anything say "Lovely Summer Fun" like polka-dots?

I LIKE:

Elisha Polka Dot by
J. Renee

And does anything say, "Come into my parlor" more than Zebra striped stilettos?

I LIKE:

Mylie Pump by
Gabriella Rocha

The importance of friends.

Once upon a time, I wrote this poem:

Hit and Run Lover
I always thought Self Esteem
and I would meet
in a meadow full of
wild flowers,
run
into each other’s arms
(with, of course, the “Ode to Joy” in the background)
and then walk hand in hand
together for all time,
exchanging blissful, soulful looks.

Alas!

Self Esteem is that
inconstant lover who
throws me against an alley wall,
snakes a hand down my pants and
ravishes me until I’m senseless
with delight.
Then runs away, giggling,
while I lean against the wall,
gasping and limp, damp and
wailing
Wait!
Can’t I have just a little more of that?

I sent it to non-writing girlfriend who gave me very wise advise:

Maybe you should go a different route with the “bad lover”.  Perhaps that LOW self esteem is something like this: he’s a big bastard that you occasionally fall for, you know it’s wrong but it’s habitual.  Then suddenly he’s out of your life and you like AHHHH!!  I feel like ME again.  Hello HIGH self esteem.

It was a revelation, not just writing wise, but personally. Could I imagine that feeling good was the default state, instead of constantly doubting myself?

So I tried another poem.

The Seduction of Self-Denigration

Like a lover who sneers behind your back, it sneaks into
your life
wearing the mantle of virtue –
productivity
modesty
simplicity
humility.

It promises people will
like
admire
pet
praise
love
you.

It’s got all the right words, and all the right moves. This is everything
you ever wanted.

This one is smooth. Fine. And oh, so sweet.

Beware.

It’s sick sweet like cotton candy, like heroin, like a bitter
addiction with honey on its tongue.

As with every bad lover, you
discover it
lied
about itself and you.

All the things it promised
(love and delight and all the joy you can devour)
haven’t shown up.
They never will.

You feel sordid and dirty and
dissatisfied with the
arrangement.

Kick it out.
Promise yourself never to let it back in.
Bad lovers always knock again.

Feminism for the day!

May I recommend The Feminist Hulk? Smashing the patriarchy with purple shorts and class!

For example:

HULK POLITELY REQUEST CHANGING TABLE IN MEN’S ROOM. HULK CHOOSE NOT TO EMPLOY SMASH IN THIS MOMENT. MULTIPLE TOOLS FOR CHANGE.

Whew.

I feel much more like me. Yay!

Today, I will attempt to write as poorly as I possibly can - I want to create the worst, on-the-nose, overblown, rambling crap ever placed on the page.

Mostly because that's what happened yesterday, so I might as well roll with it.  Life is short, after all. It is better to write very very badly than to not write at all. :)

Ick.

I have managed some sort of throat/upper chest infection, with a dry, hacking cough that really really sucks. I've got my cough syrup with codeine, and I'm going to bed.

Almost, but not quite there.

Here's a poem I've always liked and I think it's pretty good. It's just not...right yet.

Any thoughts?


My grief breaks me, I will not bend.

Really, what’s wrong with breaking?
Maybe the mighty oak was destined to break,
instead of bending like that stupid willow
(or reeds or whatever it was)
in the irritating fable we get
nagged with when sorrow strikes.

Breaking, the oak is transformed
to warm and cheer a dark night,
provide rest for the weary or
a place to meet and nourish the lonely and hungry.
The willow (or reeds or whatever) just wavers
unchanged, unusable, useless.


The oak and I will break and we both will be created anew.

Hope.

Emily Dickinson said
hope is a thing with feathers,
delicate, light, and small.

I think hope is giant beast with
fangs, claws, and fur.
It crashes into your life,
mauls and
remakes you in a form
unrecognizable, never before seen.
Then, with a final brutal, ravenous bite to your
mangled face,
sends you out stronger than you were.


c. Linda Mercury

Oh, yeah - just to explain.

Mostly, I'm posting my old poetry because I'm too busy revising Dracula's Secret to come up with anything new for this blog.

Emergency Surgery's first line came to me about three years ago when I had to end nearly thirty-year (fairly loose) friendship. I didn't realize how much of me this person had become until it was over. I felt empty and hollow, and it surprised me how much I missed our interactions.

Oh, Please, Aeneas was a response to the most irritating section of the Aeneid. Can you believe that some old white guy scholars call the scene where he sails away from Carthage to be Aeneas' most heroic moment? Disgusting. I think that part ruins an otherwise fantastic read. I think Virgil must have had some bad dormice in honey that day.

(The Romans had a strange view of yummy food)

So, more poetry to come!

More poetry

I was reading the Aeneid and I got to my least favorite part - Dido's death. So I wrote this as a retort to the unnecessary death of a brilliant female character.



Oh, Please, Aeneas

Dido, Queen of Carthage
Threw herself off a wall
For you?

Yeah, right, Son of Venus.
You and I know the truth.

You’re dick-sizing with Odysseus about the
women you both left behind.
He claims Calypso, the unflagging nymph, begged him to stay, but he tired of her, even after she promised him immortality.

I hear your juvenile response across the centuries.
Oh, yeah? Well, a QUEEN killed herself for love of ME and our lands became mortal enemies until my descendents destroyed her city and sowed it with salt.

Nauseating.
A queen is strong.
She keeps her wits.
Go ahead. Dump her, sail away like the
skulking coward you are.
She will rise, triumphant,
send her elephants trumpeting through your
backyard.
And not until Quintus Fabius will she be defeated,
only after
years of struggle and a waste of power.
You had nothing to do with that victory.

You are so not worthy of a queen’s pain.

You lied, Aeneas.
There was no funeral pyre. You know she
put on her jeweled sandals,
strode through the city she owned.
She wouldn’t let a panderer ruin her proud name.

Occasional poetry.

Here's an original poem I call Emergency Surgery.

I miss you like a tumor I didn’t know I had.

I never noticed the weight of you, suppressing delicate nerves,
until you were gone.

I took you out, a surgery to save my life,
now an enormous aching hole in my skin where once there was a familiar mass.
I miss the pain I had grown to know and even,
to love just a little.
I destroyed something that made me beautiful.

There’s room now for something healthy to grow there,
room for vitality to breathe and stretch.
Whatever is planted in that deep abyss will bloom, thanks to you being gone, no longer taking
nutrients and energy away from my beauty.

Until then, though,
I miss your poison, simply because
I was used to it.

Traveling!

I'm visiting my family this week! The plan is to jot as many notes as I can, write when I can, and smile a lot.

Feminism for the day!

A new blog, Contestations: Dialogues on Women's Empowerment, has a fabulous first issue about feminism and Islam. Rock on!!

Also dealing with feminism and Islam -a Saudi woman literally strikes back against the Hai'a, the virtue police. Time to remind Saudi Arabia that their limitations against women are unjust and against the basic Islamic tenets of mercy and justice.


Note: I have to mention that I'm not Muslim - just someone with a background in Middle Eastern history.

Doing some research.

In Dracula's Secret, one of my heroes works as a system administrator at CERN. Yes, that CERN, home of the Hadron Collider, five Nobel Prize winners, and the World Wide Web.

Why a system administrator? Well, first, my beloved Charming Man is, himself, a system administrator at a very large facility, too. I find the way his mind thinks about information management absolutely fascinating (helps that I used to be a librarian, too).

Why CERN?

Many years ago, The Charming Man listened to a sys admin at CERN speak at a conference. My honey brought home notes about how the information systems worked at such a unique facility.

And now, I hope to arrange the chance to tour CERN itself. I go to delve into the mysteries of arranging a tour!

Edited to add: I submitted my request form along with a little note about wanting to ask about information systems. I hope they are amenable.

Morbid thoughts.

Someday, I will write this dedication:

Thank you to all my ex's for all the excellent ideas.

And it would be in a story about all sorts of terrible mutilations and stabbings and particularly horrific deaths.

Wouldn't that scare the hell out of everyone??

Thanks to the Flaming Chef.

I need this! You need this!

Bronte Sister Writing action!

Moving forward!

I had an amazing phone meeting with Kensington editor Audry LaFehr and her assistant, Martin Biro today.

They love my imagination, the relationship between Valerie and Lance, and how well the sex and violence work. They also said it was strong visual writing (woot!!).

They wanted to talk to me personally instead of through a letter in order to discuss what they thought needed work - basically, Dracula's Secret is very powerful, but also confusing. They suggested focusing more on the main romance, doing more with the secondary plots - ie what purpose do these characters have, etc.

So basically, I got the world's most awesome revise and resubmit phone call! Martin will be in town for Willamette Writer's conference, and he'd love to meet for dinner, too.

They made no promises, but said they loved my writing talent, wanted to give me lots of encouragement, and said that they very very rarely call an author to give her feedback.

I'm all verklempt!!

Giveaways?

Authors are constantly being told to hold giveaways on their websites/blogs.

What in heavens name can an unpublished author give away???

To hell with it.

I want a cocktail. I want this cocktail.

O Fizz Drink Recipe
3 teaspoon(s) sugar (or simple syrup)
12 fresh mint sprigs, plus extra for garnish
3 ounce(s) fresh lime juice
Ice
8 ounce(s) vodka
Cranberry juice
Champagne or sparkling wine
Fresh raspberries, for garnish

For each fizz, add 3/4 teaspoon sugar, 3 mint sprigs, and 3/4 ounce fresh lime juice to a cocktail shaker. Muddle content with a longhandled muddler or bar spoon; add ice to shaker, along with 2 ounces vodka and a splash of cranberry juice. Shake vigorously and strain into a flute. Top the glass with champagne; garnish with a few fresh raspberries and a sprig of mint.

And a footrub from highly decorative cabana boys.

Recipe from delish.com

Hey, Jason!

What about this?

Rwanda still seethed with pain, even though Valerie had killed the rapist and saved the children. Valerie twisted her lips at the memory. She’d had to use teeth and claws to kill him, and he’d tasted simply terrible. There simply wasn’t enough Listerine in the world to get rid of that aftertaste.

Ick.

You know you are sick when watching Julia Child cook makes you want to throw up instead of cook.

Dracula's Secret, the next page.

It didn’t make sense. His perfect, confident posture and chiseled, patrician features marked him as the kind who should be swinging a tennis racket on some blue-blood tennis court.

Why this reaction to this man on this rainy night? What was special about him? She had sworn off men for more decades than she cared to remember. Thousands of handsome, well-built, and brave men had passed in front of her over the years.

The headlights from a bus lit him up even brighter. He spotted her. Their gazes met and locked. And she saw his true nature.

A warrior, home from the front lines, sick of violence but caught in it. That eye-searing shine was not innocence, for lines of hard-won worldly knowledge bracketed his sensually-shaped lips. Exhaustion creased the corners of those extravagantly gorgeous eyes and lived between his eyebrows. Instead of purity, he lit the night with the ferocity of his spirit.

Valerie sucked in the cold, clove-scented air.

Only the best of humanity had that shine; people dedicated to making the world better for everyone, not just themselves. She’d seen that glow in such disparate people from Mother Teresa to a pubescent boy protecting two toddler girls from a rapist in Rwanda.

This one had a Higher Calling.

Bad news.

Higher Callings meant certain failure to their vehicles. Poverty still ran rampant in Kolkata. The girls and their protector died by the rapist’s denied fury. Valerie smacked her lips at the memory. Rapists were always tasty.

Worse, those well-meaning fools always tried to suck her into their cause. Those idiots dared to claim her fight was less worthy than theirs.

No promise of sunshine was worth that risk. The steady rain cooled her arousal. Time to go.

More shoes to delight.

You know that when I'm perusing beautiful shoes like these:




Vivienne Westwood Biba shoes from Zappos.com.

Or maybe these?



Jerome C. Rousseau Aizza Glitter Pumps via Saks Fifth Avenue.

Aren't they WONDERFUL?

But in the light of harsh reality, I'm wearing something like this:




Fiztwell Terry from Zappos.com.

The first page of Dracula's Secret.

Halloween Night

Burnside Avenue

Portland, Oregon



His sun pierced her night.

Valerie Tate stopped dead at the sudden stabbing pain and clapped her gloved hands over her sensitive eyes. Blood seeped from under her eyelids in response to the too-bright aura surrounding the man across the street. Stunned, she wiped her cheeks before risking another look. Nothing broke her concentration before a mission.

Six hundred years of killing had taught her well.

Shock gave way to curiosity. Curiosity then unraveled her single-minded determination. What was he, this man innocently checking his text messages on a silver Blackberry? As her eyes cleared, she studied him with all her undead senses.

Not soap, not cologne, but his essence was the first thing that struck her. The aroma of cloves, sweet and hot, rammed up her nose like a fist, overwhelming the car exhaust and excrement odors rising from Burnside Avenue. The fiery smell transformed her anger into something far more complicated. Hunger beyond blood clenched her stomach and below. She licked her teeth, swallowed, and squinted against his aura to study his face.

The endless Northwest autumn drizzle plastered blond hair to his skull. He glanced up from his little machine, obviously aware that someone watched him. She locked her knees against a shudder when she saw his blue eyes. Not any shade of blue, but the color of icy seas under the full moon. Even covered in worn jeans and a frayed but high-end sweatshirt, his broad-shouldered body made her mouth pucker, ready to kiss. A generous bulge in his pants caught her attention, lewdly contrasting to the brightness of his innocent shine.

Back in the saddle.

Now that my brain is rested from the big blogging push of last week, I think my next topic will be some excerpts from Dracula's Secret.

But first, a gorgeous boot to brighten your day.

I LIKE:

Babs by
Diba

Doesn't that just make you want to go dancing? :)

And now that my brain is tired...

Something outrageous.

I hereby promise to whatever publisher buys my book that I will buy these shoes and wear them to every book event for promoting Dracula's Secret.

I will be something like 6'3" in them, but what better way to grab attention that an over six-foot tall woman talking about naughty vampires?


Fendi Cinderella Runway Platform Sandals available via Saks Fifth Avenue.

Getting Cynical on Vlad Dracula.

Even the most cursory look at the secondary and tertiary sources on Vlad Dracula shows a stunning (or tedious, depending on your personality) number of resources on how bloodthirsty and cruel this particular historical figure was.

To find out where they got their information, I did what every self-respecting historian does. I checked their bibliographies for their primary sources. This is what I found.

Vlad Dracul II lived from 1431-1476.

No sources survive from Vlad himself (despite it being commonly reported that he was highly educated and literate). This includes any of his legislative acts.

No sources survive from his brothers, father, wives, other relatives, or even friends.

The only primary source that is contemporary to Vlad's life is in the Monastery of St. Gall, in Switzerland. It was written by an unknown author in 1462. The manuscript gives a number of anecdotes about Vlad (thirty-two, according to the translation I read). The translator claims that six of those thirty-two stories are confirmed by other sources, but does not name those sources.

The stories discussing Vlad's crimes against humanity were not verified by other contemporary sources.

The Russian and German documents that discuss Vlad's preference for disemboweling animals, etc., etc., etc., date from 1490 at the earliest.

The woodcut portraits of Vlad date from 1488 and 1491. The famous oil portrait comes from the second half of the 17th century. Which, I might point out, is nearly 200 years after Vlad died.

Many scholars make much of the oral transmissions of the folk tales of Romania. Unfortunately, I was unable to find any analysis of these stories by anthropologists or historians that would confirm the accuracy. Folk tales often are multipurpose stories - they could be cautionary tales or money makers to fleece the unsuspecting. I've not seen any studies done of where the folktales agree with the primary sources.

For example, contemplate the relationship people in the United States have with George Washington. The old cherry tree tale has been discredited, but how many of us still remember it and tell it?

What all this boils down to is very simple:

We don't know that much about this historical figure.


So as a result, I felt like I could play with this person, bring my own interpretation to the story of Dracula. After all, my outrageous ideas seem to fit right in with the rest. :)

I'm sure that I've missed a lot of information on the historical Dracula. I look forward to hearing from others who want to share their research with me.

The oil portrait image shamelessly www.dracula.info. Fabulous website and lots of fun.

Digging around in Primary Sources.

Now you have your sources, primary and otherwise, all laid out. Now what? What criteria do you use to select which ones you wish to consult?

For an example, I will use a famous case of really bad sources and a vicious historical hatchet job, namely, King John I of England (I know this blog is about Dracula's. This example does have relevance to Dracula. Be patient!).

The best structure for an evaluation uses the classic "who, what, when, where, and how" criteria. Here's how to apply these questions to a primary source.

Who?
Who created it? A monk? An adversary? A hagiographer? An admirer? A satirist - hey, are you taking a sarcastic book seriously? (I've done that. It's very embarrassing.) The only contemporary chronicles for King John for whom we know the authors are Gervase of Canterbury and Ralph of Coggeshall. There are scanty anonymous annals from monks from Dunstable, Worcester, and Tewkesbury, and the abbes in Margam in Glamorgan and Waverly in Surrey.

When?
When did they write it? Are they a contemporary of the person or action? Did they write it later using their memories or rumor? John of Wendover wrote his stories after 1226. Matthew Paris began plagiarizing Wendover's stories starting in 1235. King John died in October 1216. John's son, Henry, did not take the throne until September 1217. Does something about those sources look funny to you, too?

What?
What did they create? A book, artwork, or an object? What kind of condition is the item in now? What purpose did it serve? Roger of Wendover very honestly stated that his book was not a history; he wanted an effective foil for sermons against various sins.

Where?
Note that there are regional and temporal differences in climate of opinion. Also, different geographical climates preserve things better than others. So we have wonderful artifacts from dry climates like Egypt, but few from moist climates like SubSaharan Africa. Remember, books are destroyed in a particular pattern as are scrolls and pottery.

How?
Did the creator use eyewitnesses? Other accounts? Is the account littered with unsubstantiated rumor? A good question to ask is how good is the rest of the source. Roger of Wendover's "chronicle" of King John is full of stories that no-one would take seriously. He writes of a washerwoman who broke the Sabbath to work and was exsanguinated by a small black pig for punishment. He writes another story of a loaf bread that because it had been baked on Sunday, ran with blood when it was to be sliced.

"There is one, (it is eighteen pages long) about a peasant named Thurkill from the village of Twinstead in Essex, who, in 1206, was led through the realms of Purgatory by St. Julian. As Wendover tells it, the story has many realistic touches, from the man's name and place where he lived to precise details about the torture chambers of the underworld: in one, for example, stand cauldrons of inky water so bitter that if a piece of wood is thrown in the bark instantly peels off. It is a grim and lively story; but is it true? Wendover certainly seems to think it as authentic as his stories about John; and it is difficult to see on what grounds historians should reject the former while accepting the latter." Warren. P. 11

Now, what if don't have a smoking gun" like the King John example? What if you just feel uncomfortable about using that source? Many historians are nervous about basing a text on controversial "primary sources". Historians will tell you to do another search to see if you can find any sources to supplement, replace, or confirm the references you are using from these sources. The citation will have more authority if you are able to back up your point with multiple sources.


The historiography for this section is based on W.L. Warren's book, King John, published in London by Eyre & Spottiswoode c. 1961. I highly recommend it.

Something kind of random.

I cannot be the only person kind of weirded out by the song Escape (The Pina Colada Song).

A slight diversion

Before I get on the promised topic of why I wanted to write about Dracula, I want to discuss how historical research gets done.

Historical research is mostly done from written sources. The three main classifications of sources are tertiary, secondary, and primary (historians are not known for creative classification names).


Tertiary sources are the most common and the most easily accessible. A tertiary source is one that is not written in the period in question. Tertiary sources discuss current research and current attitudes about that particular topic or time period. Tertiary sources include text books, book reviews, timelines, and encyclopedias. They are very useful places to start research.


Secondary sources are still written out of period, but refer to period sources. They are often specialized books, dissertations, or theses that look at available period evidence about a person, place, thing, or idea. They are a good place to grasp a complete view of a culture. They also vary greatly in quality, complexity, and scope (this is where you use the book reviews and abstracts to determine which one). This is King John by W.L. Warren, one of my very favorite secondary sources.


A primary source is a source created at the time you are studying by a contemporary of the action or person. They are more scarce and more difficult to understand, but a whole lot more fun to work from. Examples are coins, inscriptions, buildings, portraits.


Secondary and tertiary sources are often blended sources; they have pictures, quotes, graphics, and facsimiles of primary sources in them. This is extraordinarily helpful - you can get feel for a primary source without having to find it in its entirety.

Frequently, primary sources are published in collections or in thematic arrangements with introductions. Primary sources are not limited to written material; paintings, coins, carvings, artifacts (surviving physical evidence), tapestries, buildings, and photographs and photocopies of any of these are primary sources.

The best and hardest way to write history is from primary sources. The further away a text is from the original actions, recorded by contemporaries, the deeds and thoughts recorded lose their freshness and immediacy. Secondary and tertiary sources are often the cause behind the "history is boring" reputation. After all, novels are exciting for their attention to detail, their focus on action and consequence.

History is the story of murder, betrayal, love, greed, tenderness, and lofty dreams for humanity. Well- researched, well-written history is "edge of the seat" exciting and explains where modern attitudes and problems came from.

Next time, I promise, I'll talk about Dracula himself.

The s*** just got real.

History gives contexts for contemporary problems. How can we hope to overcome hatred and violence without knowing where that anger came from?

When you study history, you not only learn who you are. You learn how how the world works. And that is no small task, both for the student and the teacher.

Back in 1970, David Hackett Fischer demanded more from historians than what we had been doing for decades. This quote from his book, Historian's Fallacies, demands that we put ourselves out there for the world.

[N]othing is more necessary to the peace of the world. Let us have no romantic humbug about brotherhood and humanity. What is at stake is not goodness, but survival.

Men must learn to live in peace with other men if they are to live at all. The difficulties which humanity has experienced in this respect flow partly from failures of intellect and understanding. Historical knowledge may help as a remedy- not a panacea, but a partial remedy. And if this is to happen, professional historians must hold something more than a private conversation with themselves. They must reach millions...and they will never do so through monographs, lectures, and learned journals.

I doubt that they can hope to accomplish this object by literary history or by the present forms of popular history. Instead, they must begin to exploit the most effective media of mass communication - television, radio, motion pictures, newspapers, etc. They cannot assign this task to middlemen. If the message is left to communications specialists, it is sure to be garbled in transmission.
(p. 316)

No pressure, David. :)

This quote has guided how I felt about history since I first read it in graduate school. I hope it gives you some idea on why I like to write fiction with a strong historical bent and why I'm starting this series.

Next up:

Delving into Vlad Tepes, and why I wanted to write Dracula's Secret.


Photo of Dr. Fischer from www.historians.org.
Doesn't he look like he'd demand the best of you?

Opening quote shamelessly stolen from Hot Fuzz. Who stole it from other people.

History Geek.

I don't usually talk about my background in history. I'm not an American historian nor did I study things like who wore what, ate what, or invented what (history nerds call that cultural history). I will sheepishly admit that I studied political history.

Political history is the field that every student hates. Who signed what. Who declared war on whom. How monotheism came about. How religions interact. What diplomat did that boneheaded maneuver and what the hell was s/he thinking.

And guess what!

I've decided that you few, you lucky, happy few, will get to hear all about what I spend far too many years of my life figuring out. *evil toothy grin*

Brace yourselves! The horror is coming. :)

Another question for the ages.

Men's underwear - what is the sexiest -

Boxers, briefs, boxer briefs, or none?

I never know what kind of undies to put my heroes in.

A question for the ages.

Why do men wear black socks with shorts??

Embrace your Beloved.

Last night, my paternal grandmother died. She was 93.

Grab someone (heck, it can be your pet!) you love and give them a long hug. Then go celebrate something together.

Embrace life. It is the reason we write. And it's the best way to mourn a loss.

Grooving to the baseline.

In my head, I never work hard enough and I never get enough done. I'm sick of it.

For the next two weeks, I am taking aim at my anxiety about 'working enough'. I'm going to overwhelm it with (get this) actual data on my work habits. I'm getting a baseline of behavior.

All I'm doing is keeping a simple log on

1. What I am doing: Am I in meetings? Updating my blog? Doing promotional work? First draft composition? Brainstorming?
   
2. How long I'm doing it: pretty self explanatory there. And
   
3. How I feel about the work. Basically, did I think I did ok work, good stuff, or Yowza! level material.
   

I've been doing it for three days so far, and I am already amazed by my real progress versus my imagined progress. My early prediction for this experiment is that I will find out just how much I downplay how productive I really am.

I'll keep you posted!

Talking back.

It's time to revamp my website and blog, so tell me what kinds of things you like to see on an author's site.

Writing excerpts? Industry insight? Writing how-tos? Craft? How not to drive yourself crazy as a writer?

I also have a Facebook account now. Find me under Linda Mercury. :)

That whole tortured artist thing.

Some days when I feel like I'm not getting enough done, that my writing is weak, trite, and meaningless, that I'll never amount to much, I understand why writers have a stereotype of drinking too much.

Of course for me, drinking too much is two glasses of wine with dinner and then toddling off to bed early.

It lacks the flamboyant drama, but it's ever so much easier on my liver.

Scaring the hell out of myself.

Both Bob Mayer and Michael Hauge said many brilliant things this past weekend. Fortunately, I wrote them all down and I'll be able to work my way through them all.

The biggest lesson I got, though, really threw me for a loop.

You've got to go where the fear is, both your characters and yourself.

As the old saying goes, "If you have a character who is afraid of water, she'd better be in the ocean by Act Two."

As an author, I'm afraid of revealing too much of myself to my readers. Where does the line fall between pulling in real emotion and oversharing?

That scares me.

I guess that means I'd better go there.

Well, so much for that.

Every time I sat down to write about archetypes, I managed to find something else that really really had to be done at that moment.

Like plucking my eyebrows. Or starting an IM with a friend. And quite frankly, it was amazing how often I really needed a nap Right Now.

I finally had to admit to myself that my brain was not ready for archetypes right now. Curses!

Instead, I'm getting ready for a Winter Writing Intensive put on by the Rose City Romance Writers. Michael Hauge and Bob Mayer are coming to the area and are planning on kicking our asses. I'm preparing by getting my new work-in-progress to the point where I can discuss it (sort of) intelligently.

So I'm back to that!

Back to work. :)

Sorry about the skipped days there. Back being productive!

Every writer finds ways to make her characters three-dimensional and interesting. We fill out character sheets, brainstorm via longhand in cheap (or expensive, depending on your personality) notebooks, post pictures of what we think they look like - the list goes on and on.

Archetypes or stock characters are fantastic starting places. Often people get quite upset about these ideas, claiming that using them leads to one-dimensional characters or stereotyping. In the hands of a writer who isn't paying attention, yes. That can happen. I really like the way Christopher Vogler puts it in The Writer's Journey:

Looking at the archetypes....as flexible character functions rather than rigid character types, can liberate your storytelling. It explains how a character in a story can manifest the qualities of more than one archetype.

Every good story reflects the total human story, the universal human condition of being born into the world, growing, learning, struggling to become an individual, and dying. Stories can be read as metaphors for the general human situation, with characters who embody universal...qualities, comprehensible to the group as well as the individual. (pgs. 30-33)

Here are just a few archetype systems that writers I know use.

• Campbell's breakdowns which includes categories such as Hero, Mentor, Threshold Guardian, Herald, Shapeshifter, Shadow, and Trickster.
• The Tarot
  
• Astrological signs (a perennial favorite)
  
• Gods and Goddesses of various pantheons (I have a weakness for the Greeks, but I've found inspiration in other religions, too)

I'll be getting into these ideas into great depth in later posts. Let me know if you want me to go into the whole Jung/Joseph Campbell origins of modern thought on archetypes. It's fascinating and I love it, but I can be long winded about it.

Ok, I lied.

Nothing of substance going up here today. Move along, nothing to see. :)

Post a day, part two.

I'm going to see if I can do the post a day thing again. I loved it in November. Let's see if I can do it again.

This time, I think I will go through various archetypes that writers use to come up with memorable, vibrant characters. I use a variety of sources to get personalities for my characters.

Tomorrow, I will start with some male archetypes.

I love my agent.

Just got this email from Jewelann:

Hi Linda,

Thought you would like to know I have sent queries out to Harlequin, Berkeley, and Kensington so far. Nothing yet from Harlequin, Berkeley has requested a partial and the synopsis (which has been sent) and…….Kensington has requested the FULL. Which has been sent. Along with the synopsis, of course.

That’s it so far.

Jewelann

I'm sure you can hear the high-pitched squealing from where ever you are!

Back to work.

Today, I officially started on The Sequel (title still unknown, sorry). I've had several outlines, plots, and ideas for this book, but since I changed the ending for Dracula's Secret, I had to start completely from scratch.

I don't worry about all the previous work because I've found that writing is never wasted. I know it'll be useful, and most likely sooner rather than later. :)

And to top it off, I found my plot! I'm not going to announce it yet, because things can always change (and usually do), but for now, I have an road map for myself. I also started in on my GMC charts.

And that makes for a very very good day. :)

Wow.

Last night, I finished the final polish on my manuscript - getting rid of pesky extra quotation marks and strange pronouns.

Today, I finished my synopsis.

Five minutes ago, I emailed everything to my agent.

WOW!!!

Now, should I extend my vacation, or start in on my next projects???

Back to work.

I met with my agent this morning. All I have to do is tidy up my synopsis and we will be ready to start shopping this beauty.

I'll let you all know how it goes. :)

Whew!

Only four days into my vacation and I'm feeling full of vim and vigor! I've gone out, met people, and thought a lot about what I want to do for my upcoming projects.

I wonder what the rest of my time off will bring!

YES!!

Today, I turned my completed manuscript in to my agent, Jewelann Cone of Atlantis Literary Agency.

This is a big milestone, so I'm going to celebrate for the next week!

A writing game.

A while ago, Jane Porter spoke at my local RWA chapter, the Rose City Romance Writers.

I'll be honest. Jane's blonde, gorgeous, petite, skinny, and looks about sixteen. I was consumed by envy. Then she gave a brilliantly inspirational speech about where your writing fits in the market.

I was expecting something very business-like, maybe a breakdown of the different publishers and what they tended towards.

Instead, she talked about the roots of your writing- the fables, myths, and fairy tales that consumed you as a child. What could you listen to over and over? What were those themes? What keeps coming up over and over for you?

The fairy tales didn't reveal that much about me, I thought. I picked.

1. The Seven Swans: I chose discipline, faithfulness, and sewing shirts out of flowers (transformation) as the themes I loved about this story.
   


2. Aladdin : Flying, courage, and risk.
   


3. Sleeping Beauty: Disguises, awakening to a new reality, and (what the hell) fairies with personalities.
   

I really flailed with these. No common themes seemed to emerge. Then we went to mythology. I chose:

1. Medea: Revenge, justifiable wrath, a woman who controls her life, a woman who kills, escape
   



2. The Golden Fleece: Powerful allies, justifiable wrath, travel
   



3. The Aenead: Rising from the ashes, travel, new starts
   

I suddenly realized why my attempts at light-hearted romantic comedy failed miserably. I had much darker stories inside of me.

I focused on the story that began, "She swam in an ocean of blood" instead of "Lola blinked." I'm pretty sure we can all tell which first sentence is far more attention grabbing. :)
(That's not the first sentence anymore, by the way ;).

Myths, fables, legends, and fairy tales are our playground. They provide the archetypes, the symbols, and the language for our lives.

Play the game with me. What are the stories that have haunted you? What themes do you carry inside of yourself?

Rocking it.

There must be something to that pure heart business. I've been rocking the revisions like crazy since the New Year.

*knocks wood*

I'll be back when these get done!

(or for some version of done)