The Lockless Door

So… Getting a lot of mixed reactions here. I have 3 Queries.

Your mission, should you choose to be bored out of your mind, is to read these 3 queries, tell me which one you like best, why, and what changes you would suggest being made. Thanks!

This is the best version that Authonomy thinks I have turned out so far (1 beta reader picked this of the 3, but I’m not sure):

Since the time of the Salem witch trials, women in her family have experienced the same hissing noise, many completely outcast not only by society but the family as well.

For Sophia, only silencing the noise can save her from religious extremists and their ‘cure’ for witchcraft. Her condition leaves her flighty and distracted—and on the verge of losing the only job she could find.

Turning to her faith, she performs a Wiccan ritual in hopes to silence the noise. When her problem worsens, she digs into her family history. A document in the attic reveals an ancestor hanged for a witch. The corpse vanished. Understanding her ancestor’s death may be her last chance at finding a cure.

A close female friend, in love with Sophia, is the only one who knows the truth about Sophia’s family history, and when her friend tries to murder Sophia’s boyfriend, the mystery of her ancestor’s missing body unravels.

Sophia is faced with two choices: perform dark magic to unveil the source of her family’s curse, or become a murderer herself. Both choices threaten to betray her faith.

This is the best version that CritiqueCircle thinks I have turned out so far:

The hissing in Sophia Parson’s head threatens to drive her mad.

Her condition leaves her flighty and distracted, and on the verge of losing the only job she could find—waitressing. Between the irritating noise, and patrons complaining the jalapeno loaf is too spicy, Sophia is about to snap. Modern medicine has no cure.

She turns to her Wiccan faith, performing a ritual she hopes will bring silence. Instead, the noise changes from a soft hiss to a cacophony of whispering voices. In a last ditch effort to find answers, she digs through her family history.

In a chest in her attic, she finds a court document from the Salem witch trials, revealing an ancestor had been hanged. The corpse vanished. Discovering the truth surrounding her ancestor’s death may be Sophia’s final chance at finding a cure.

A close female friend, secretly in love with Sophia, knows the truth, and when she tries to murder Sophia’s boyfriend, the mystery of the ancestor’s missing body unravels. Sophia must perform dark magic to unveil the source of her family’s curse, or become a murderer herself.

This is a version written from advice given over at AbsoluteWrite:

There is a hissing in Sophia’s mind. Every second, every minute, every day. Driving her mad. Making her crazy. Her doctor says it’s just tinnitus, and something she has to live with. Her doctor is crazier than she is.

Sophia’s condition leaves her flighty and distracted. Distracted enough to nearly cuss out a customer at the diner. Jalapeno loaf is too spicy, they say, and if Sophia tells them where they can shove that loaf, she might lose the only job she’d been able to find.

Turning to her Wiccan faith, she performs a ritual of silence. And it works. Sort of. This hissing is gone, but now she’s hearing voices.

Rumor has it, one of her ancestors heard voices too. Sophia investigates the family history, but a trunk in the attic reveals a document referring to a different ancestor. One hanged during the Salem witch trials. The corpse vanished.

Only one person has the answers—a close female friend who is secretly in love with Sophia. When the friend tries to murder Sophia’s boyfriend, the mystery nravels. Sophia must perform dark magic to unveil the source of her family’s curse, or become a murderer herself.

Dear Agent,

I was going to write a query, but as it turns out, every time I get my query to the point that one group of people like it, another group of people pop up and tell me it’s crap. I’ve come to the conclusion this is because my novel kicks ass, and no query could ever do it justice. So instead of a query, here are naked pictures of me and a recipe for my famous banana bread. Let me know who I have to sleep with to get my manuscript read, and we’ll be on our way.

Your’s Truly,

Writer Gone Mad

I decided that before I start submitting queries to my novels, I might test the water with some short stories. So I looked into some recommended places to submit, and decided to try Leaves and Flowers Magazine.

It’s a new magazine and they were accepting submissions based on a prompt. So I put together a short story to submit, and even though I knew it wasn’t paying, I liked the idea that it was prompt based. The perfect way to test the waters I though, before sending my egg off to every basket.

Well, I’m excited to announce, that they liked it! It will be published this fall!!!

So, yeah, YAY ME!

My first submission, my first publication. I know I still have a long road of rejections ahead of me, so excuse me while I roll around in the joy of acceptance for the time being.

Over at Tilts at Windwills one of many talented writers I know wrote about Literary Fiction and why people should give it a chance. She, like me, is an INFP personality type, which I think is pretty neat, but has nothing to do with my post

Here is the link to her post, if you haven’t seen it yet:

Literary Fiction

Her post stemmed from a recent discussion her and I had on the forums, and I really wanted to offer a follow up comment to her blog post, but there seems to be some kind of glitch so my post isn’t working there. I thought that I’d offer my insights here instead, for anyone interested.

In response to her post:

Today I want to take a look at trimming words. These days, readers attention spans are short and agents and publishers don’t want to publish one more word than they have to. Going into this little “lesson”, I want to first say: BEWARE: never edit away your voice. Sometimes MORE words is the better option. But, when you can say the same thing in less words, without sacrificing character or voice, please, by all means, do so. On a  small scale it might not seem like much, but in the big picture you will find it improves page. Even if you only cut 10 words on every page, over the course of 300 pages that’s 3,000 words. That’s, in many novels I like to read anyway, A WHOLE CHAPTER!

So, a very lover critique partner of mine, who is FANTASTIC with the “big-scale” things I so thoroughly suck at, has agreed to let me post some of her work to show how some of the smaller scale things can be strengthened. Her name is Erica Bertel and this is from her novel “Abigail Fellows & The Wiccan Council. Her story is awesome, and for those who are on Critique Circle and want to work with her, I can say two things: 1) She gives excellent critique, full of support and honesty.. and 2) She is excellent at taking critique–someone who is completely devoted to making her novel the best it can be. Her Author Name on CC is Qzh30d.

Onto today’s lesson: How to cut unneeded words, i.e.: making every word count. The info here is as it was given to my critique partner (Anyone interested in swapping crit with me, feel free to email. This is my crit style, only usually I don’t talk so much. I was in a chatty mood today, unfortunately for Erica!)

This segment comes from the start of her 7th chapter. At it’s core, it’s a wonderful opening paragraph for a chapter. Let’s see what she was starting with:

“It was around 2:30 in the morning when I woke up from a weird dream and realized I was still in my clothes. I was practically sleepwalking when I went into the bathroom to wash my face, put night cream on, and brush my teeth. My mother always told me night cream was the fountain of youth. My reflection in the mirror wasn’t a pretty sight. Chestnut brown hair was plastered to my face, I brushed it to the side and examined my bloodshot eyes, more red now than brown.”

Note: Overall pace can be improved by tightening prose.

See this:

EXAMPLE 1:

Original: It was around 2:30 in the morning when I woke up from a weird dream and realized I was still in my clothes.

Tightened: At 2:30 in the morning, I woke from a weird dream and realized I was still in my clothes.

You cut 4 words that way. Do you feel like you lost anything other than those words? I personally don’t think it hurts your voice any. And that’s the key, if it doesn’t hurt your “voice” to tighten, do so. Also, this prevents you from having 2 when sentences in a row.

I’m going to show you a way to a closer POV here also:

At 2:30 in the morning, I woke from a weird dream. I pulled the covers back and they caught on something. My shoes? And I still had on my jeans and the red Las Vegas t-shirt I’d been wearing earlier.

Now… that example is LONGER, but we are experiencing it with the character, so it might be more fun to be there. of course, you’d have to fill in what she was wearing.

Mind you, I can’t tell you which is better in this situation. Sometimes, it’s better just to summarize with “realized….” other times, it’s better to show the character realizing. You decide. The thing with writing is, there are a lot of right answers. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Following the above advice, you could write:
I practically sleepwalked to the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and put on some night cream. (put night cream at the end since you segue into another comment on night cream). As my mother always said, night cream was the fountain of youth. But tonight I did not look youthful. (reason for adding that sentence? It makes the previous fit in and flow into what follows. Otherwise, the fountain of youth comment just seems tossed in there, instead of a natural character train of thought. We see WHY she is thinking that with the addition).

“I brushed aside the hair plastered to my face and examined…”

Having her notice her own hair color (especially this late in the game) feels forced. It just doesn’t work in first person. I know it sucks. So hard to get MC’s appearance across. On a side note, If I read “more red now than brown” I would imagine her as having brown hair anyway, so you’d really only need to specify, IMO, if you wanted to make her blonde.

Also in my example, we get the detail of the hair being plastered without the “was”. Mind you, not all “was” is passive. It’s just weak when used when it doesn’t need to be, and it didn’t need to be here.

Okay, I went really in depth here. I want to show you how you can strengthen your writing to make it more engaging. Here you’ve seen how you can go deeper into your character’s POV, and also how to tighten.

Your original passage: 90 words.
Here would be the passage fully tightened:
At 2:30 in the morning, I woke from a weird dream and realized I was still in my clothes. I practically sleepwalked to the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and put on some night cream. As my mother always said, night cream was the fountain of youth. But tonight I did not look youthful. I brushed aside the hair plastered to my face and examined my bloodshot eyes, more red now than brown.
That’s 76 words. That’s 15% cut. Imagine if you could increase the pace of your novel (by conveying ideas faster) by 15%! and you’d cut 15% of your words.

Now, I know some people don’t want to cut because they don’t want TOO low a word count—this is where taking the opportunity to experience with the character comes in. You would still have a good pace, because you’d be conveying MORE in the same amount of words. But if you need to cut words, go by this. If you have a good word count, you try to convey more (more necessary info, that is) in the same amount of words (or close to it).

If you go with my deeper POV suggestion, the passage would read:

At 2:30 in the morning, I woke from a weird dream. I pulled the covers back and they caught on something. My shoes? And I still had on my jeans and the red Las Vegas t-shirt I’d been wearing earlier. I practically sleepwalked to the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and put on some night cream. As my mother always said, night cream was the fountain of youth. But tonight I did not look youthful. I brushed aside the hair plastered to my face and examined my bloodshot eyes, more red now than brown.

That’s 97 words. But with only 7 more words, you manage to give us exactly what she is wearing and SHOW us her experiencing that (because of the words you cut in other areas).

EXAMPLE 2:

“I was spitting out toothpaste when I heard someone talking. It was very faint. I looked around and didn’t see anything. I shrugged it off, assuming I was so tired that I was hearing voices. Then I heard someone say very lightly, look in the toilet. Now I recognized the voice, it was my Aunt Magdalene. My first thought was, maybe I could walk away and not face the woman who had single handedly both sculpted and crushed my world.”

I spit toothpaste in the sink and turned on the faucet to rinse it away. I thought I heard someone talking and shut the water off, straining to hear. It was very faint… (continue on)

Suggestion: I shrugged it off. I was tired enough to hear voices, apparently.
12 words instead of 14. And you SHOW her assuming that.

Suggestion:

A light voice said: “Look in the toilet.”

I knew that voice. Aunt Magdalene. I should just walk away. I didn’t want to face the woman who had single handedly sculpted and crushed my world.

your version: 45 words
my version: 35 words. AND it’s showing what is happening/what she’s thinking, instead of telling. 

EXAMPLE 3:

With my clothes in hand I went into the bathroom feeling guilty about not sharing my Magdalene experience from earlier this morning. I just wasn’t ready yet. I needed this shower more than usual, my body was aching from the lack of sleep and soreness from yesterday’s series of events. I ran the shower a little hotter than usual and stood there in the stream of hot water, just letting it run over my aching body. Thoughts about whether I believed my aunt’s claims of innocence tumbled through my mind.

With my clothes in hand, I went into the bathroom feeling guilty about not sharing my Magdalene experience from earlier this morning. I just wasn’t ready yet. I needed this shower more than usual; my body [was aching] (ached) from [the] lack of sleep and soreness from yesterday’s [series of]events. I ran the shower [a little] hotter than usual and stood [there in] (under) the stream of [hot] (we already know it’s hot) water, [just] letting it run over my [aching] (we already know it’s aching) body (alternate suggestion: letting it run over my back and shoulders—this is exact). [Thoughts about whether I believed my aunt’s claims of innocence tumbled through my mind.] (Did I believe my aunt’s claims of innocence?)

Realizing I needed to add back in the tumbling, to make it “flow” with the rest of the paragraph:
With my clothes in hand, I went into the bathroom feeling guilty about not sharing my Magdalene experience from earlier this morning. I just wasn’t ready yet. I needed this shower more than usual; my body ached from lack of sleep and soreness from yesterday’s events. I ran the shower hotter than usual and stood under the stream of water, letting it run over my back and shoulders, the same thought tumbling in my mind: Did I believe my aunt’s claims of innocence?

Your version: 90 words.
My version: 83 words AND included more exact details.

And this concludes the longest blog post you’ve ever read. Hope you found something useful here!

FIVE STARS

Okay, I know. I know, it sounds like I rate every book five stars, but to my defense–no, I really don’t always! And, also to my defense, I’m just really good at picking out books. Movies on the other hand…I leave that one up to my husband. But books?  have some kind of sixth sense about books. And when I say a book is worth 5 starts, and I pass it along to my friend, they say “No way can it be as good or better than the last book you recommended. There is just no way.”

And then, there’s a way.

So you can take my word on this when I say, Love Walked In by Marisa de los Santos is an amazing book. It’s a bit literary, but at no sacrifice to the story, and here in this story lies complex characters in complex situations. It’s extraordinary. From the start, Santos had me ping ponging between laughter and near tears (really, I easily could have cried, but I try not to allow it–this is the closest I’ve ever gotten) and by the end of the story, every chapter had me BOTH happy AS WELL as nearly crying–at the same time.

The writing is witty and feels personal and very real, but above that, the visuals she provides to ground you in the story are CRISP. It’s original, it has flair, and the narrative voice (which switches between Cornelia’s POV in 1st person and Clare’s POV in close 3rd) will pick you up and sweep you away. Another unputdownable book, and I will be reading more from this author.

At its core, I believe Love Walked In is a love story unlike any other. It is about the love of family, the love of friendship, the love of a child that isn’t your own, the love a child has for it’s mother. The story is full of refreshingly honest characters–characters who will admit to their conflicting emotion, even when those emotions are the “wrong” emotions to have, and yet, you will relate to them in every way and want to reach through the pages to the character and say, “it’s OK to feel that way.”

I’d love to hug and cry with every character in this novel. They will remain in my heart forever.

This story had a few elements of truth to it, and the I’ve told the true version of this story many times. When I saw the prompt on Leah Petersen’s 5 Minute Fiction competition this week, the story resurfaced and spilled out of me with it’s own fictional twist. (I never did visit the girl’s mother–it had been my mom who helped me write a letter so send away on a balloon. Maybe I just wanted to rewrite history, as it’s something I wish I had always done.)

Thank you to anyone you voted for me on this weeks contest. It meant a lot to me to know a story that was special to me was special to those who read it. I hope  you enjoy reading this emotionally surged piece of writing, and be sure to stop by Leah’s blog next week for your chance to win. Nothing inspires me more than writing against the clock! (Those who haven’t used write or die should try it! my best writing comes from there!)

Thank you, Leah, for the wonderful opportunity.

and now, onto the story…

Jill and Crystal and Saying Goodbye

Jill sat on the empty park swing, the seat beneath her a hard plastic board and her fingers wrapped around the cold metal chains. She swung lightly, her beaten sneakers dragging twin track marks in the sand below. She stared across the street, past the open field, at what had once been her best friend’s home. She stared with unblinking eyes—with eyes that stung from the chill of winter, the bite of wind, and the glaze of tears.

How could the doctors think a piece of paper and a few pills could solve her problems? Crystal wouldn’t be coming back, and no prescription would change that. There’d be no more tiny tea parties in her front yard, packed inside a Rainbow Bright lunch pail. No more giggles between tents made of chairs and blankets and lit only by flashlights they’d have to smack against the palms of their tiny hands to make work.

Jill shook from the sobs trapped inside her chest. The tears she couldn’t let fall, in fear she might never stop crying. Even at her age, she knew kids shouldn’t die. Kids who got sick had mommies to give them medicine and tuck them in bed with cartoons to watch and everything would be okay again, real soon.

They didn’t get tumors in their brain, and they didn’t die.

They weren’t there one day, somebody’s best friend in third grade, and then gone the following year.

As the weeks passed after Crystal’s death, Jill always found herself in the same place, sitting on the same swing, alone. She packed away her Little Ponies, her Polly Pockets, and her Cupcake Dolls. Packed them all away—even the Gumbi figurines and the Popples.

She didn’t watch Care Bears anymore, or Fraggle Rock, or Alf. She didn’t play with her Skip-It, and she never would again. She’d just sit on this swing, until Crystal came back. She had to come back.

As it was getting dark, Jill picked up the cardboard box of old toys, and carried them over to Crystal’s house. She knocked on the door and she waited until someone answered and she prayed it would be Crystals face that filled the doorway, only a few inches over her own, to invite her in to play.

Crystal’s mom opened the door and invited Jill inside. Jill set the box of toys on the kitchen table and sat down.

“Maybe you could—I thought Sarah might want these,” Jill said, nudging the box closer to Crystal’s mom.

Crystal’s mom reached out and placed her hand over Jill’s. Quickly, she pulled her hand back and covered her mouth. Tears wet her face. She sniffed and wiped the tears away with the inside wrist of her robe.

Jill swallowed around the tight, painful knot in her throat. “I didn’t say goodbye.”

Crystal’s mom got up from the table, opened the kitchen junk drawer, and returned to set down a small pad of paper and a pen. “Here. Tell her now. It’s never too late to say goodbye.”

Jill wrote a short note.

::Crystal—I will never forget you. Love always, Jill::

Crystal’s mom tied the letter to a helium balloon, and they let it go into the night sky.

That night, Jill flushed the rest of her prescription down the toilet. She didn’t send any more balloon notes after that and she never said goodbye, either. Instead, she found an old journal she’d never gotten around to writing in and began to write stories of their friendship. Over time, the journal filled, but Jill continued to write her stories, over and over again in her heart.

Love, she found, was undying, and far more powerful than any prescription.

Nancy Pickard does it again. This time, it took me a lot longer to solve the mystery, and it wasn’t until the end that I was sure what happened. (Some things were a total surprise).

Beautifully crafted, the story is about the effect a tragedy has not only on a family who loses someone they love, but also everyone around them. It’s about the pain and destruction born from secrets and betrayal. And, ultimately, it’s a story about love.

Nancy lives up to a few tall standards of mine. The writing is emotional, at times making me laugh, at times making me cry, and the whole time always making me think and wonder. The writing is both simple and elegant and mature, and the characters are all three dimensional, real, and complex in the way only a real person could be complex. The pace is quick and I found myself always thinking “just one more chapter and I’ll put the book down.”

If I didn’t have kids, I’d easily read this in one setting. Highest marks for Ms. Pickard. FIVE STARS.

I hope she gets something else out there soon. Me and a friend of mine anxiously await her next publication. Thank you Ms Pickard for your lovely stories!

As an author, she inspires me and at the same time challenges me. This is the bar to which I hold all books I read now, and I hope that one day I can write just as well.

Leah Petersen is giving away a piece of the beach (And maybe something else too, if you are  a thorough reader!

Check HERE for your chance to enter!

Man, I have to say, I wish I had more than one to giveaway for this contest. I had a few people who really helped to plug this contest.

A special thanks to:

Leah Petersen

Noelle Pierce

Courntey Johnson

Melissa Colon

These 4 followers had been following since before the competition, and some of them were retweeting about the contest daily, without skipping a beat. Each of them had well over 20 entries–one even had 30 entries in total! While part of me thought it’d be great for one of my new followers to win, these girls deserved the odds they gave themselves, and it’s excited that one of them won!

We had 21 total entrants who earned a total of 166 entries. The entries were randomized with random.org, and then numbered, and then a number was chosen using the random.org random-number-picker.

The winning number was 3!

I checked to see who had the number 3 entry slot and the winner was…

COURTNEY JOHNSON

Sorry Melissa! I know you are a Pickard fan and were hoping to win (which would have saved me shipping, since you’re at my house so much! lol)

Should I do another book giveaway? I was thinking of doing a barnes and noble gift card giveaway next time, this time the winner could pick the book they wanted on their own!