Hazards of Being A Character-Driven Writer
(with a dash of perfectionism)

First, I want to thank Delilah Devlin for letting me hang out here today. I have a day job, so I’ll try to check in as much as possible throughout the day.

There are so many things I love about writing. The characters, the setting, research, talking to readers, talking to writers, the 24-36 hour writing binges that leave me wrung out and exhausted, but oh so satisfied. There are also the things I don’t necessarily hate, yet wish I didn’t have to deal with, although I have no intentions of ever giving them up. (I know, I’m a sick, twisted puppy, but hey…I was a great masochist in past lives!)

Below is a list of six “things” that my perfectionist, over achieving, OCD writer needs to fall back on when writing feels more like the ninth ring of Hell rather than the Elysian fields:

1. Don’t put out crap

One glance at the number of revisions I’ve put out for each book, screams that I’m a bit manic about writing the best damn story possible. I mean, I can write rather quickly – once I know what’s going on in a story. But I don’t want to put out a story that I wouldn’t pay good money to read. So, go ahead, shoot me now for my perfectionist tendencies. But, go ahead and love me because I respect my readers, my characters, and myself way too much to put out crap.

2. Who’s driving this crazy train?

The characters

The determination not to put out crap is driven by my characters demanding I get the story right.

Don’t believe me? Well, check this out. I’ve got a book I’ve been working on for four years, yeah, I said four years. I have about 5 versions for a grand total of about 800,000 words and you know what my characters do? They keep nagging me. “You got that wrong.”  “You Dommed when you should’ve subbed, and subbed when you should’ve Dommed.” “You completely got the motivation wrong, but hey, you got the kink right. Thank you, RopePlay(dot)com.” And I’m telling you, that the taunting, teasing sing-song voice they like to use when they point out my mistakes grates on the nerves. If I weren’t so emotionally invested in this project (and if I didn’t know at least half a dozen people would string me up by my thumbs) I would give up. Tear up all that I’ve written. It wouldn’t help though…the characters are persistent, over-achieving nags.

3. Quality vs. Quantity

This particular rule goes right back to #1. I recognize there are some writers out there who complete full-length novels in the same amount of time it takes me to mow my lawn and weed my garden. (Sure, this looks like an exaggeration, but I live in the South and it’s been summer. So, go with me on this one, okay?) I am not one of those writers. I work at my own pace, which is usually at my characters’ pace and they let me know when they think a scene needs tweaking. Rushing them does no good and only tends to irritate them…kinda like poking a bear with a stick. Enough said, and I have the scars to prove it.

4. Follow the rules…

Rules Schmules, but spellcheck you better believe it – abou tit, inot, organisms not orgasms (or is that the other way around?)

You think I’m joking about the examples? I’m not. I don’t know how many times I’ve gone through a manuscript to find my “into”s have become “inot”s and that “about it” has morphed into “abou tit.” And the last little gem was courtesy of a friend of mine who discovered, only after she’d sent the report out to her main supervisors for comment and feedback that all the “organisms” in her report had morphed into “orgasms”. And while there’s only a difference of an “n” and an “i” in the words, it makes a huge difference when you consider your audience. So, while I’m not a big fan of all the writing rules, like, introducing the hero within the first three pages so the heroine is introduced to him as well, I do recognize that spellcheck can go a long way to making a writer appear professional.

5. Serial Commas? Oh, yeah I totally love serial commas!

I don’t know if it’s because of the editor I had at my publisher, or the fact that those are the rules I was given when I was in grammar school, but I will always put a comma before the conjunction (Conjunction Junction, what’s your function?…sorry, just had to say it). I’ll try to follow as many grammar and language arts rules as possible, once I understand them… like dangling participles and misplaced modifiers. Conundrums like sneaked and snuck – I’m still trying to figure that one out. But I’ve totally got em and en dashes. (Yay me!)

6. The real hazard, the one that really, really gets to me…

Readers who care

While I absolutely love to hear readers are looking for my next book, it’s like, “oh, yeah, no pressure” when they ask, “When is your next book coming out?” So, here’s me copping to it. I suck when it comes to deadlines. And I’m not talking mediocrity level sucking. Oh, no, we’re talking OCD, perfectionist level. I’m a professional at it. And for good reason. Because not being able to answer my dear readers’ question with the absolute truth inspires me to lay prostrate across the rails while the proverbial guilt train comes a chuggin’ on down the line. And that sends me to the ninth ring of writing Hell. So, here’s my pat answer to all those dedicated readers, “It’s coming out…SOON.” Which makes the heroine in my current manuscript pipe up and scream, “Yeah. Soon. Right after me. So, would you go ahead and finish this scene already?”

So, I’m putting it out there to you…

Authors, what hazards do you experience as a writer?

Readers, what hazards do you wish authors had respected before they published their books?

Qwillia Rain

Click to reserve your spot!

FOR AUTHORS!

Just pimpin’ the Rose’s Plotting Bootcamp. It starts September 7th, and there are still slots available. Reserving your place is a good idea for a couple of reasons:

1) Ever wanted to know how to write a logline? How to construct a premise statement? What character roles you need to “people” your story with and what function they serve? Why is that important? Ever heard of GMC? And hey, most of you have heard of the Hero’s Journey, but do you know about the Novem plot structure (my favorite and more intuitive, IMHO). And then there’s that scene-by-scene build for your book. Sometimes, it’s helpful to have a coach and cheerleader pushing you until you’ve got that well-structured plot nailed.

2) Sometimes, we need a little brainstorming support. Guess what? I’m very good at reading between the lines of what you mean/want and helping you pluck those ideas just hovering there, not yet fully formed. Want a live conversation to help that process?

I’ve been teaching this process for a long time now. You’ll get a well-seasoned eye, a supportive soundboard, and a kick in the butt to keep you going. But don’t worry. This is a self-paced workshop. Do you have a killer day-job work schedule? You really can complete this course at your own pace, as you find time. I won’t go away before you’re finished.

Both newbie and seasoned authors can benefit. In fact, I’ve had authors run through the course multiple times when they want a sounding board and a structured process before they start their next project.

For many of us, September is the perfect time to start a new project. The kids are back in school. NaNoWriMo is staring us in the face. Want to smash through NaNoWriMo in November? If you have a plan, you’ll fly through those 50,000 words!

Sound intense? It can be. But I provide a nurturing learning environment. And you can’t beat the price. $50 for a month-long class with individualized support. See you there!

To sign up, click on this link: Rose’s Plotting Bootcamp
If you have questions, don’t hesitate to email me at delilah@delilahdevlin.com!

A reader posted a review on Amazon the other day, and I really liked what she had to say…

“It’s not every author who can bring forth a short story and leave a lasting impression on me. With Hotter With a Pole, not only was I left satisfied with the content, but I was also impressed by the range of emotions and the overall story.”

Hotter With a Pole is over 20,000 words, so I’m assuming she mostly reads full-length stories or at the very least category-length (think of some of Harlequin’s shorter series). 20,000 words is as long as I like to write, although I know most readers thirst for longer. Some writers can write long with ease, and maybe a lot of deep angsting, but I write romances the way I’ve experienced them—hot and fast. After all, the old advice to a writer is “Write what you know”. And it does take skill to cram a full story into fewer words.

So today, I just wanted to remind you of all the truly short stories I have published. If ever you’re in need of something lightning fast while you’re waiting at the doctor’s office or as little something right before you go to bed, you might check these out. Many are in the Kindle Unlimited store for free for you KU subscribers. All are only $0.99 for everyone else.

Enjoy the short-short shorty I have posted below. Sometimes a tease is all you need. 🙂

All About Me

I awoke slowly, enjoying the pleasant tingling that calluses left on my belly. A man’s rough hands smoothed over me.

It wasn’t every day that I woke with someone else sharing my bed. My heart skipped a beat. And then I remembered. Craig. That was his name. I was in bed with a stranger named Craig.

Daylight teased the edges of my eyelids, but I squeezed them shut again, not ready yet to end the bliss. I could pretend for at least a couple of moments longer that we meant more to each other than just a heat of the moment fling.

Still, he’d stayed the night, and the heaviness of the cock poking at my backside telegraphed the fact he wasn’t in any hurry to leave.

A kiss touched the corner of my neck.

“You awake?” he growled then licked the bottom edge of my ear lobe.

“Not yet. Do that some more,” I mumbled.

His chuckle was warm, wicked.

I stretched my legs then snuggled my butt closer to his erection. “I’m awake enough,” I whispered.

“And I’m interested, as you can tell,” he murmured. “But you owe me something first.”

I groaned and pushed my face into the pillow, wanting to hide because he’d risen on an elbow and was pushing my hair behind my ear to peer at me.

He cupped a breast, thumbing the nipple. “You promised.”

“I wasn’t in my right mind.”

“Coward.”

I whimpered, and then turned onto my back to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you go first?”

He shook his head, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. “Now, see? That’s not what I want. And you said I could have anything I wanted if I made you come.”

I snorted. “How do know you I didn’t fake it?”

A sexy grin stretched across his face. “Baby, you came so hard you peed on me.”

His soft laughter made my cheeks burn. I narrowed my eyes. “And to think Bev said you were a nice guy.”

His eyebrows gave a waggle. “Not too nice. And aren’t you glad? Besides, you’re cute when you get embarrassed.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Didn’t seem to bother you a bit.”

“Why should it? I like you wet.” He came over me, sighing as he settled between my legs.

“What else do you like?” I asked, running my fingertips lightly up his back.

He dipped his head and bit my ear. “You’re stalling.”

His breath tickled my neck and I raised my shoulder. “Why not just fuck me?”

“Because this’ll be more intimate.”

“More so than fucking?”

His cheek glided up and down against my neck as he nodded.

I rolled my eyes, thinking hard, or at least as hard as I could with his cock sliding up and down between my folds. “Can I do it faced away?” I gasped.

“What do you think?” Abruptly, he pushed up then knelt between my thighs. “Need pillows?”

“Don’t be helpful,” I groused.

“You really don’t like this.”

I felt like screaming my frustration. He was right there. I was open. Eager. And yet, he sat watching, his expression firming into that hard mask that had made me tear at my clothes the moment he’d closed the bedroom door. “I might like this better if we were in the middle of something, but like this it feels—”

“Dirty?”

I nodded. At last, he understood. Now maybe he’d move closer.

“Do you know what attracted me to you first?”

I blinked at his segue.

“How bold you are.”

Liar. However, I didn’t mind that he goaded me. His needling challenges had led us to this bed. Something I couldn’t regret.

His hands soothed up and down my inner thighs and his gaze dropped to my sex. But the exposure—my pussy to daylight—wasn’t quite so embarrassing because he was arranging me again, lifting my knees, placing my heels just so. Like he was creating a picture for his pleasure. Then he laid his palms against my inner thighs and opened me further.

He could see right inside me. A blush swept my skin, cheeks to breasts.

His nostrils flared as he gazed down. I was happier than I ever would have admitted when he’d allowed me to bathe after my “accident”—then relieved that he’d changed the sheets while I’d cowered in the shower. He hadn’t let me hide there for long, jerking back the curtain and joining me there to “wash” his dick inside me.

My modesty lay in shreds. Oddly, this engendered a feeling of deep, fierce elation. I’d never been with anyone like him. Someone who could make me laugh one moment, then shiver with anticipation with just a single, commanding glare.

I didn’t know him well enough to trust him. And yet, I was thrilled he was here even if he was busy staring at my intimate parts. “You just gonna look?”

“I’m waiting.”

Fuck. He expected me to keep that promise. The one I’d given when he was laughing, holding me against him when we were both so wet, and I’d been desperate for a little privacy to groan at my lack of self control.

“I’m still waiting.”

The texture of his voice, so firm, excited me. I couldn’t get my head wrapped around the idea of how much I wanted him. Or that I needed him to be in charge. Of me.

From the first moment we’d been introduced at dinner by friends, I’d been caught.

All it had taken was one long, challenging look from his dark blue eyes and I’d felt instantly aroused, and then annoyed with myself because I wanted him and he knew it.

Just like he knew it now.

His fingers trailed from my clit straight into my slick folds. He swirled in moisture then licked his fingers, all the while holding my gaze. “Anytime, Heather.”

“This’ll be quick,” I muttered, blushing again.

“Fast, slow—I don’t care. But you have to come.”

“And you think you’ll know?”

He canted his head. “I know the look.”

“I have a look?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Can I close my eyes?”

One dark brow arched.

I shook my head. “I didn’t know you were such a control freak.”

“Yeah, you did,” he said softly. “Start wherever you want.”

I swallowed, knowing I was through stalling because I was horribly aroused. I cupped my breasts, hoping that watching me would entice him to join in and end this. He’d said he liked my breasts, and the tips were sore from where he’d played endlessly—licking, flicking, sucking, biting…

My nipples hardened and I plucked and twisted them, pulling then letting them go to jiggle my breasts.

But he remained still, watching, with his hands on his knees as he knelt between my spread thighs.

What the hell? Why did I care that he watched? His intense stare and the color darkening his face said he was into it. That I was turning him on. His cock pulsed, jutting from his groin, hard and thick.

My hands smoothed down my belly; fingertips scraped through the short blonde hair on my mound. I used one hand to spread my folds, the other to tease my clit, swirling on the knot until it grew harder and stretched the hood, causing it to slide away.

Then I thrust two fingers into my pussy, curving my hips to deepen my reach. I let go of my folds and slid a hand beneath my ass, teasing my perineum while I thrust my fingers deeper and twisted them.

Wetness oozed from inside me, soaking my hand, slipping lower to trickle toward my asshole. And because his breathing was becoming louder, raspier, I dared more—using the moisture to wet a fingertip and stick it in my ass.

“Sure you don’t want some of this?” I asked, my voice husky. I lifted my legs and curled my abdomen, the muscles of my belly burning to hold the cramped position, but now I could stroke both holes deeper and he could see everything I did.

My thumb twiddled my clit while I fucked myself. I tucked another finger inside my ass and gave up trying to look pretty, trying not to make faces or unattractive noises, and just let go. My orgasm bloomed, and my face screwed up into that expression, the one he knew meant I was coming—and I flew. My cry was soft and floated away.

Hands slipped over my knees to ease them down. I blinked, only just realizing I’d closed my eyes there at the end.

Craig came over me, waiting as I slowly pulled my fingers from inside me. Then he fit his cock to my entrance and thrust deep into the moist, hot center of me.

We rocked together, me clutching his back, him growling as he thrust faster and harder. Another quick flash burn of pleasure swept me. He shouted, sharpening his shortened thrusts—until he made the face I knew meant he’d found his own orgasmic bliss.

I smiled, damn near purring as his breaths evened out. “You owe me now.”

He grunted. “Think I’ll mind you watching me jerk off?”

“You’ll mind, because I get to say when you can come.”

He blinked then barked a laugh. “You do know it’s going to take me a little while.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I, on the other hand, suffer no such handicap.” I reached up and gripped his ears, then tugged him downward, showing him exactly how he could pass the time.

We all have stops along the way. They’re what make us ultimately who we are. And my stops brought me here, to a writing life. It took longer than probably most authors’ experience, but I’m here nonetheless. So let me tell you about my stops, or rather the times of my life that brought me closer to being an author.

I love to read and started at a young age. First my mom and dad read to me, then they taught me to read for myself. By the first grade I was probably considered an obsessive reader. In fact I won an award for reading the most books that year. But I didn’t stop there. I kept reading, advancing from bunny and puppy stores to Nancy Drew Mysteries.

Then, one evening in my pre-teen years, my mom gave me a 1939 edition of Gone With the Wind. The cover was tattered from age; it had obviously been well-read and well-loved.  She said she treasured it and hoped that I would too.

I remember asking her why I’d never seen this book before, and she answered. “Because you weren’t ready.” Bless her, she knew my penchant as a child for marking in books. Of course in my mind I was enhancing them with my illustrations… but that’s another later stop.

Well, from that point, reading was my passion. I truly can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t have at least a dozen novels stacked on my bedside table. Except for college. That stop got me off track, at least for fiction. Too many things to learn, too many outside influences… you know, like boys and fun. And beside I wanted to be a great archaeologist. I didn’t think fiction would get me there. It may not have gotten me there, but it sure got me somewhere else!

My next stop came as I began my life as a military wife. I found myself in a third-world country even before I knew what that meant. I spent almost three years on the island of Luzon in the Philippines. When we weren’t traveling, I was haunting the base library until there were no more books to read. And I was watching the people, soaking in the culture as I’d learned to do as an anthropologist.

Guantanamo Bay, Cuba was my next stop on the journey. For four years I snorkeled, partied of course, worked occasionally, and read obsessively. The base library was again my friend.

The next stop was a sad one but ultimately got me back on my track to writing. A divorce, being a young single mother, and back to my roots… Texas.

After a few years of struggle I was able to go back to school and obtain an MA in Anthropology again thinking I could be that famous archaeologist, this time with my young son by my side.

Okay, now the stops got closer together. I was writing… technical reports, research papers, a master’s thesis, raising my son… but at the same time I found out that illustrating a book (as I did as a child) could be an actual profession in and of itself. I became a rather well-known Archaeological Illustrator. That stop was fun, but it wasn’t writing.

For many reasons, and the details should go into a memoir and not a blog, I left that stop searching for something else.

In a restaurant having lunch with a friend one day, she said to me… “I’m bored. We need to do something. How about opening a bookstore?”

So I said, “Okay,” and we did. Not as easy as it seems though… there’s an actual class sponsored by The American Booksellers Association: How to Open a Bookstore. It’s true. And even after that class with the dire warnings about our success or lack thereof, we found a location. But we knew we needed a hook… just like in a book. You have to ‘hook’ your readers within the first few pages or they won’t continue.

Our hook was wine. Yes, A Thirsty Mind Words & Wines was founded. We think it was the first bookstore/wine bar in the country. I don’t have proof of that, but we certainly didn’t see any other bookstores like ours.

That stop was fun, and I got to read… actually I had to read. Publishers sent us boxes of ARCs (advanced reading copies, those unproofed copies sent out by publishers in hopes of garnering reviews.) I tried to read them all. But my customers also relied on me to give them recommendations. So I had to know my market. And I had to research. A customer came in one day and asked, “I picked up a book in Florence about a church. The author’s name started with an R or a K. I left the book in my hotel there, can you order it for me?”

Not much to go on, I know. But using my skills as a researcher, honed in graduate school, I found it… Brunelleschi’s Dome: How a Renaissance Genius Reinvented Architecture by Ross King. I even amazed myself!

During this stop as a bookseller I got to write again. Blogs, newsletters, advertisements. And I got to meet authors. We had many events in the shop featuring local authors as well as others traveling the country on book tours. It was inspiring.

I loved that bookstore, it was my life. But there were more adventures ahead for me. So when Amazon got so popular and the economy crashed… not related of course… I closed my shop and went on my way to my next stop.

One day a bookstore customer and author called and said…“You know Microsoft Word, don’t you? Amazon has a new self-publishing venue. Can you read up on it, and maybe help me get my books republished there?”

Well, of course I could, but this was in the early days of indie-publishing and the rules were changing quickly. Lucky for me there were already guides online with tips on formatting, not many but they were useful.

So my new stop… A Thirsty Mind Book Design.

However, another upheaval in my life came along just a few months later… I could no longer afford my perfect Texas house. Actually it was the taxes I could no longer afford, particularly in the early days of this new business. So I packed up and moved north to Maine, to a piece of property I’d owned for many years, actually from my military wife years and the divorce. A small farm on the coast of the most eastern piece of land in the U.S. The perfect place to build my business as a formatter and self-publishing consultant. All I needed was the Internet and a laptop.

I wallowed there in contentment for a year or so, then after all that time studying sentence structure, word usage, as well as formatting, I thought to myself. “I have thousands of stories running around in my head. Why don’t I try to get them out? It’s no longer necessary to find an agent or publisher, thank goodness. I can do this by myself. I can be my own publisher!” So for six weeks between formatting and editing jobs, I wrote.

After those exhausting weeks, I thought: I’ve written a novel! What do I do now?

Well, the now was solved by another phone call. Would I like to be on a panel at the NINC conference in New York in October? NINC of course is Novelists, Inc., an organization of published authors. Of course I said yes. I could talk about self-publishing and all that I’d learned, and I could meet authors!

NINC was an eye-opener. You could make money as an indie-author… but it was hard work. And writing more books than one seemed to be the key. And there were contests to join, beta readers to find, mentors. Obviously my book was not done yet. But I was almost into the station.

A year and a half later, after 16 more versions of Stone Bay, I formatted and published the book to Amazon. Then I sat back and watched it… do nothing.

After agonizing over that for a couple of months, I was reading an issue of the RWA newsletter (Romance Writers of America) and found in the classifieds a couple of editors’ ads. I contacted one and asked if she would look at Stone Bay. Something was wrong with the story, and I couldn’t figure out what.

She said yes and a few weeks later I had a much better book. I understood POV (Point of view), conflict, timing… well better than before anyway. I was learning my craft, my last profession/stop.

A few months later (and with the help of an editor before publication this time) my second book found its way to Amazon; Stone Cold, a romantic suspense. Now a few months after that book, my third book, Stone Heart, is in final re-writes with my editor, and as soon as my incredible cover artist finishes the print and digital covers, it will be winging its way to readers worldwide.

You might ask, how did all those stops along the way help you get to the final station as a writer? Reading. Reading. Reading. Research. Art. Marketing. Learning a craft. Education. And my Mom. I’ve taken her name as my pen name, Min Edwards, because she was the start of it all. She read to me. She taught me to read. She gave me Gone With the Wind.

Books by Min Edwards

Stone Bay Contemporary Romance series: available at Amazon
Stone Bay: amzn.to/1eL74Fq
Spindrift: coming soon

High Tide Suspense series: available at Amazon
Stone Cold, Book One amzn.to/1wdl6eM
Stone Heart, Book Two: coming soon

Others in the series available in the next few months
Stone Fall
Precious Stone
The Russian Phoenix: prequel to Precious Stone

Talon, Inc. Archaeological Suspense series:
Triton Bay, Book One: coming in 2016

Pam Headrick
A Thirsty Mind Book Design
http://www.athirstymind.com
format@athirstymind.com
http://athirstyblog.com

Writing as Min Edwards
http://www.minedwards.com
info@minedwards.com
http://www.minedwards.com/minblog
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMinEdwards
https://twitter.com/MEdwardsAuthor
http://www.pinterest.com/minedwards

“If you’re going to be a successful writer, you’ve got to find the time to write.”

If I’ve heard that once, I’ve heard it a million times. You know what? It’s true. Writers write. It’s what they do. They’re not on Facebook or Twitter fifty times a day, and they’re certainly not watching Real Housewives, or E!news.

They’re writing. Even when they have no words, even when they don’t feel like it, even long after their bodies are begging to go to bed.

Writers write.

Writing is one of the hardest jobs I’ve ever had.  And it’s the only job I’ve loved.

It took me time, along with some trial and error, to find what worked and what didn’t.

Here’s what worked for me.

1. Get a planner. You know, one of those spiral bound, hold-in-your-hand, planners. I cannot use the one on my phone. I need something right in front of me that I can write my schedule in every single day. Makes me feel professional too.
2. Before I go to bed I look over my schedule for the next day and for the next week. It helps me know how much writing I’ve got to do and sometimes I even get ahead of my daily word count.
3. Write down your daily word goal. Whether it’s 5K words or 100 words, write it down! If you are seeing that you can’t make your goal, then lower it until you can consistently meet your word count. Once that happens, you’ll find that you can increase your word count goals.
4. I write out my writing schedule first. Then I schedule things around that. Writing takes center stage, and if I know I have an appointment at 11 a.m. then I know I have to get up early to meet my word count for the day. Sometimes I find that 5 p.m. has rolled around and I still haven’t finished, so I go back to writing after dinner time or after my son has gone to bed.
5. Have an accountability partner. I have a group of writers that I write with on-line. We check in every 30 minutes with how many words we’ve written. It helps to have someone there cheering you on. Plus there’s that whole competitive thing. 🙂
6. Make goals. 1 year/3 years/5 years. I’ve done this and at the end of the year I go back and do a review. This is how I’ve met many of my goals and make higher goals for the next year.
7. Cut out things that are not furthering your career. For example, turn off The Real Housewives and get your butt in the chair and write. The same goes for Twitter and Facebook.
8. Cut out toxic people. You know who I’m talking about. Those people who belittle your dreams and constantly tell you you’re just not going to make it. Those people are dangerous to your career and dangerous to your writing soul.
9. Get up early. I get up before dawn so I can enjoy my coffee in peace and quiet and center myself. Whether you pray or meditate, you need this time to look at your day, calm yourself and get ready for the day ahead.
10. Do it anyway. There will be days you sit at the computer, your fingertips poised on the keyboard and freeze. Write anyway. Start typing, even if it doesn’t make sense, until the you have something on the page. Remember, you can always go back and edit.
11. Do it again until it becomes habit. They say it takes 30 days to do something to make it a habit. Write for 30 days until it becomes second nature.
12. Be grateful. Writing is not a race. It’s a journey. Don’t forget to enjoy the little victories along the way and be grateful for the small things. Gratitude brings greatness.

For those of you who don’t know, I have interests other than writing my own stories. Years ago, my sister and I decided we wanted to do something to share what we’d learned about the writing biz because we’d bumped along the hard way without much support. The publishing industry is cruel enough. Why not offer writers a place where they can hone their skills before they enter the fray? Why not give them a safe place to ask questions and make friends?

I came up with the name “Rose’s Colored Glasses.” Rose was a morphing of my sister and I. She wore large rose-colored glasses, through which she saw the stories living inside her mind come to life. Our mother drew the cartoon character of Rose; sis developed a website, and we invited some of our closest friends to join us.

We offer online courses, some of them for free, but all at very reasonable prices. We travel to writing groups and provide in-person plotting bootcamps. We host and organize an online critique group.

In September, we will start our next interactive, online, at-your-own-pace Plotting Bootcamp—a month-long endeavor that is so popular, we have many writers return again and again to plot their next novels. It doesn’t matter whether you are a seasoned author or a newbie without a clue where to start, you will find value in our process!

What you can expect:
PREMISE  Pushups
LOGLINE Lunges
CHARACTER Strengthening exercises
CONFLICT! CONFLICT! CONFLICT!
Breaking through the STORY STRUCTURE stronghold
Battling the PLOT LINES

We do more in one month than some people do all year!
Get tough! Get motivated! Get Plotting!

Join your Drill Instructors, Elle James and Delilah Devlin to learn a methodical approach to harness your creativity in order to produce an in-depth plot for your next novel.

Sound scary? It is!!!! Especially when you’re staring at an empty page without a compass and a map to guide you through the novelistic jungle. Your DIs will lead you through four weeks of tactics, exercises and training that will help strengthen your abilities. Elle and Delilah will accomplish this with weekly lessons, bi-weekly chats and daily online communication.

Join us for bivouac in September—now that the kids are back in school! We will be leading a month-long plotting bootcamp. How’s our workshop different from every other one out there? We provide feedback and brainstorming every step of the way.

Here’s a description of the class. It’s a great time to join, especially if you plan to do NaNoWriMo in November.

Your DIs (Drill Instructors): Elle James and Delilah Devlin
Dates: Sept 1-28
Cost: $45.00—cheap, considering everything you get!

What can you look forward to during Plotting Bootcamp? Learn a methodical approach to harness your creativity in order to produce an in-depth plot for your next novel! Sound scary? It is-when you’re staring at an empty page without a compass and a map to guide you through the novelistic jungle. Your DIs will lead you through four weeks of activities that will help strengthen your abilities to: capture the conflicts, the major plot line and subplots; deepen your knowledge of your characters; and conceive of and develop an in-depth, by-chapter description of your book. Elle and Delilah will accomplish this with weekly lessons, bi-weekly chats and daily online communication. Be ready for bivouac!

Interested? Follow this link to sign up: Rose’s Plotting Bootcamp

I have a new book out tomorrow and I’m in the midst of editing two others. So many readers and writers often ask what my writing process looks like. I like to think I treat my writing like a job. The truth is that sometimes I’m ordered and in control. At other times (most of the time) I’m in deadline hell and working impossible schedules to get the work done. Here’s a comparison between what my daily schedule should be and what it actually is.

7:00 – Rise and Shine!
7:15 – Breakfast
7:30 – Workout
8:30-12:00 – Writing
12:00-1:00 – lunch
1:00 – 5:30 – Writing
5:30-6:30 – Promo and misc

The above schedule is what it should look like. This is what it actually looks like:

7:00 – Drag myself out of bed
7:15-8:00 Breakfast
8:30-9:30 Workout with my neighbor if we don’t wimp out
9:30am -9:30pm

• Stare at the screen and wonder why I’m a writer because no words are coming out.
• Piddle at writing while checking FB or emails incessantly.
• Update my websites, make new cover art for my indie published books.
• Review audio books for content, errors, or enjoyment.
• Fill out art fact sheets for the books in production, draft proposals for future books to keep Elle James and Myla Jackson on my publishers’ schedules.
• Draft proposals for conference workshops.
• Make artwork for swag and surf for the best swag out there to take to conferences.
• Post to FB, blog, twitter. Format books for indie publishing.
• Bang head against desk when battery backup crashes and you’re forced to pull desk apart to install a new one.
• Wonder where the day went and you still haven’t written a word.
• Interruptions by family by phone or dropping into my office
• Interruptions by family by phone or dropping into my office
• Interruptions by family by phone or dropping into my office

9:30-10:15 – shower and prepare for next day
10:30 – Big Bang Theory – Sit in shell-shocked silence after a day of intense insanity

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

SECRET SERVICE RESCUE
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Adair Legacy Book #4

The Adair legacy concludes with a shocking revelation… 

Kidnapped and held captive for weeks, Shelby O’Hara is grateful to be rescued by handsome secret service agent Daniel Henderson. But the rebellious beauty balks at his 24/7 protection until she learns the shocking secret of why she was abducted: she’s the granddaughter of the former U.S. vice president, a woman with lethal opponents in a deadly political game.

To elude those enemies, Daniel and Shelby go on the run, although they are constantly at each other’s throats…until the fighting stops with a torrid kiss. Suddenly, Shelby doesn’t feel so safe. From the bad guys, maybe, but from Daniel? He’s a clear and present danger to her heart!

Amazon | Nook | Kobo

Elle James’s Bio: Elle James spent twenty years livin’ and lovin’ in South Texas, ranching horses, cattle, goats, ostriches and emus. A former IT professional, Elle is proud to be writing full-time, penning intrigues and paranormal adventures that keep her readers on the edge of their seats. She has 39 works with Harlequin, self published works under pen name Elle James, over 40 works with other publishers including Samhain, Elloras’ Cave, Kensington and Avon and 18 works self-published under pen name Myla Jackson. Now living in northwest Arkansas, she isn’t wrangling cattle, she’s wrangling her muses, a malti-poo and yorkie. When she’s not at her computer, she’s traveling, out snow-skiing, boating, or riding her ATV, dreaming up new stories.

Social Media:
ELLE JAMES Website| Blog| Facebook| Twitter | GoodReads