Hello all! It really has been an awful long time since we last spoke, and once again I must apologize for that. So what's the excuse this time? Well, I've been working really, REALLY hard to finish up the first draft of my third book Verity. Heck! I've been working so hard that I haven't even changed my status on Facebook in forever! Anyways, I'm glad to say that I'm about two - three chapters away from achieving that goal! I poured a lot of sleepless nights during the Spring Break into this book, and I'm pretty happy with what I've read so far. I just have to go back and add a little...take out a little...just all the works.
I'm glad to announce that to make it up for my disappearance, I'll give you a new "steamy" tidbit to mull over below. AND...I'll also (in another post) tell you what Mount Vernon icons/people will be featured in this book after I finish the first draft. WARNING: I grind a few axes...just kidding!
Now that's done, I have to admit that I've also been falling behind on my movie reviews. I have seen I Am Number 4 and Battle: LA, but they already had enough reviews about them online by the time I got to see them...so I didn't want to bore you with anything everyone else had already said. I just have to say that if Hollywood would just make a movie worthwhile I would get excited and write reviews!
Anyways, I've got to get back to my book. I'll pop in again soon! In the meantime, check out my post about Anneliese Michel...thousands of others are doing it...so should you!
Oh, and here's the excerpt I promised!
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I met Abigail down on the boardwalk wearing some old swimsuit trunks I found stashed away in the bottom drawer of my dresser. They were a little tight around my thighs and a few inches too high above my kneecaps. I felt like a giant wearing midget pants.
Abigail was facing the glasslike surface of the pond applying some sunscreen to her shoulders.
“Do you need help with that?”
“I think I missed some spots.” She handed me the sunscreen bottle and lifted up her hair. “You mind rubbing some more on my back?”
I squirted the white lotion in my hand and placed the bottle in the cup holder of the nearest sunbathing chair. I rubbed both of my hands together and then uneasily started to massage Abigail’s soft back. The smell of coconuts filled the air. I rubbed the lotion in deep and worked my hands between her bikini straps. Abigail smiled back at me with a troublesome gleam in her eyes. We had always shared a certain fondness in the past.
“You can go a little lower.” She reached around and slid my right hand to the base of her back. “However, you better work your way up from there.”
My cheeks flushed as I slid my hands up the middle of her back. She could sense my unease, so she stepped away from my hands and let down her hair.
“Cute trunks,” she cracked.
“I think I had a growth spurt since I wore them last.” I grabbed the hem of my trunks and tried to pull them down. “It was the only swimming trunks I could find.”
She turned around to face me, and I could feel her eyes scanning my exposed body. I uncomfortably folded my arms against my chest. Abigail took a few daring steps towards me and grabbed each of my forearms.
“I want your body Scott.” She tried to say it with a straight face.
“Excuse me?”
Abigail pushed me backwards and a surge of water sucked me under. I could see the sunlight rippling above the dark surface. The rushing water sounded like a whisper in my ear. I flicked my feet and I shot back up to the hot surface. Abigail was laughing hysterically as I coughed up some water.
“Very amusing.” I whipped my wet hair out of my face and tried to wipe the water out of my eyes. “I’m glad I know how to swim.”
Abigail bent down so that we were nearly face to face. I swam up to the boardwalk and held onto it.
“I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t resist doing it.”
She held out her hand to pull me up, and I gladly accepted it. Just as she started to pull, I clamped down on her hand and pulled her into the water. It was my turn to laugh. She quickly reemerged next to me and splashed water in my face.
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Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Monday, March 21, 2011
Sunday, November 28, 2010
I Tried Not to Do It...
I couldn't deny it anymore as I typed the words Vernon's Peak. My next book is taking me back to my hometown. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but I was hoping my imagination take me to somewhere new like it did when it took me to the city of Mayfield ruled by brooding, pompous and privileged brats. Well now, I'm bringing the brooding, pompous and privileged brats to Vernon's Peak because things can be so much more sinister in a small town. Everyone knows each others business, and murder can cause more than just a ripple. That's a really good tagline...copyright!
By returning back to my hometown, this means that I can fulfill promises to people that wanted to be a character. Sorry, all of the big parts are already taken...
Well anyways, here is a small part of a flashback scene that I finished up the other night.
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There she had been, standing between the Bubblicious gum and M&M’s in the smoky atmosphere of Rigney’s gas station. I had choked on my ICEE while I admired her beauty. Her name was a complete mystery to me. Her blue eyes sparkled like diamonds as she brushed the black strands of hair out of her face. I watched her body move as she leaned forward to pick out a pack of gum. Her skin was caramel colored. I scanned every perfect inch of her body that was exposed. She had worn very little fabric on that hot summer night.
“She’s absolutely gorgeous,” I whispered to Thatcher.
“Oh, cool.” He didn’t notice her as he filled his cup with cherry ICEE. “What’s her name?”
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Hmmmm...
Who is this mystery girl?
The secret is, she is an actual girl I know...
The million dollar question is...what is her name?*
*A million dollars will not be disbursed if you try to identify her name and guess correctly
By returning back to my hometown, this means that I can fulfill promises to people that wanted to be a character. Sorry, all of the big parts are already taken...
Well anyways, here is a small part of a flashback scene that I finished up the other night.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There she had been, standing between the Bubblicious gum and M&M’s in the smoky atmosphere of Rigney’s gas station. I had choked on my ICEE while I admired her beauty. Her name was a complete mystery to me. Her blue eyes sparkled like diamonds as she brushed the black strands of hair out of her face. I watched her body move as she leaned forward to pick out a pack of gum. Her skin was caramel colored. I scanned every perfect inch of her body that was exposed. She had worn very little fabric on that hot summer night.
“She’s absolutely gorgeous,” I whispered to Thatcher.
“Oh, cool.” He didn’t notice her as he filled his cup with cherry ICEE. “What’s her name?”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hmmmm...
Who is this mystery girl?
The secret is, she is an actual girl I know...
The million dollar question is...what is her name?*
*A million dollars will not be disbursed if you try to identify her name and guess correctly
Friday, August 13, 2010
The Shell
Here's a little story about a girl who enters a terrifying situation...
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I stared at an insipid shell. Its glazed, sunken eyes didn’t notice me as a shiver worked its way up my spine. The lighting around me was warm and welcoming, but the shell’s sickly pallid hue made the room bitterly chilly. How did I get here? That was the least of my worries as the shell sensed my presence. It raised its red and purple needled arms to attack and hissed between its rotting teeth. I defended myself by lashing out to destroy the horror before my eyes. Its hard exterior shattered in a web-like pattern as my hands beat into its face. I tried to claw at its thin hair, but it escaped my grasp. The shell hunched over in defeat and watched me with hate in its bloodshot eyes. Blood flowed from its cracked face, but it felt no pain. I backed away – horrified. I was weak going against such a monster.
I placed my hands over my face to shield the sight of such a beast, and my eyes began to sting. Was just looking at the creature enough to scald eyes? No. That wasn’t it. I pulled my hands away to see that they were running with blood. The monster had inflicted damage upon me when I had cracked its frictionless shell. Blood from my hands slithered down its face. No. That wasn’t right either. I realized the truth.
I stared at myself in the cracked surface of a mirror.
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And the point of this was to say...DON'T USE DRUGS!!!
Photo provided by Google
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I stared at an insipid shell. Its glazed, sunken eyes didn’t notice me as a shiver worked its way up my spine. The lighting around me was warm and welcoming, but the shell’s sickly pallid hue made the room bitterly chilly. How did I get here? That was the least of my worries as the shell sensed my presence. It raised its red and purple needled arms to attack and hissed between its rotting teeth. I defended myself by lashing out to destroy the horror before my eyes. Its hard exterior shattered in a web-like pattern as my hands beat into its face. I tried to claw at its thin hair, but it escaped my grasp. The shell hunched over in defeat and watched me with hate in its bloodshot eyes. Blood flowed from its cracked face, but it felt no pain. I backed away – horrified. I was weak going against such a monster.
I placed my hands over my face to shield the sight of such a beast, and my eyes began to sting. Was just looking at the creature enough to scald eyes? No. That wasn’t it. I pulled my hands away to see that they were running with blood. The monster had inflicted damage upon me when I had cracked its frictionless shell. Blood from my hands slithered down its face. No. That wasn’t right either. I realized the truth.
I stared at myself in the cracked surface of a mirror.
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And the point of this was to say...DON'T USE DRUGS!!!
Photo provided by Google
Monday, August 2, 2010
Developing a Person
Where does the idea for a person come from? No, I'm not asking about the meaning of life...I'm talking about developing a fictional character. To be honest I don't consider them as characters. I actually see them all as people, not just a written name with some listed traits on a page. They live, they breath and they are a part of me and the people that surround me. I say this because a lot of characters come from real life walking inspirations...consciously or subconsciously.
Before putting anything down on paper, I develop a handful of characters (some I use and some that I save for a later book). I create their names, their looks and their entire life history. It is important to have some form of life history made out beforehand. It makes the character more believable...more real...more relatable. It also helps form a bond between the author and the character. If the author has no passion or emotional attachment to a character (even it is fear and loathing towards the antagonist), then they will just turn out flimsy and weak. Every character must be strong, even if it is a minor character that neither helps nor hinders the progress of your book. On top of that, every character must be flawed in some fashion. For Example: The protagonist has a dark secret to hide, he was beaten with the ugly stick or he even suffers from drug addiction.
Now comes the part where I will probably be shipped of to Terrell to weave wicker baskets and feed nuts to squirrels for the rest of my life. When I write, my characters speak to me. As I am writing about them, they seem so real that I can actually see them in my mind and hear all of their unique voices. They don't speak to me all the time, just when I need to figure out which direction to take the story. If anyone knows the setting and situation the best, it would be the characters. So I always listen to what they say, because they know their limitations.
Now it's time for me to get struck down by a bolt of lightening. To the characters, you are their god. You control every aspect of their life. You choose where they work, how much money they make, who they can and can not fall in love with and where (and if) they live. To sum it all up, you hold their fates in the palm of your hands. Who lives? Who dies? That's up to you. For me it is really hard to kill off some characters, but there are others that I know right off the bat that will not make it to Chapter 10.
If you asked me, personally I believe (whether you like it or not) every character is a mirror of your own subconscious. Sure you try to avoid that...but it will tend to slip out in bits and pieces. I'm not saying that inside of you is pure evil that wants to blow up half the planet...but some of the mannerisms...some of the thoughts...some of the feelings subconsciously slip through into your antagonist or any other character.
So if you want to get into the writing game, developing a person is one of the first steps to the next great book. Give it a try even if you don't want to write a book because creating your own personal character is actually really fun.
Before putting anything down on paper, I develop a handful of characters (some I use and some that I save for a later book). I create their names, their looks and their entire life history. It is important to have some form of life history made out beforehand. It makes the character more believable...more real...more relatable. It also helps form a bond between the author and the character. If the author has no passion or emotional attachment to a character (even it is fear and loathing towards the antagonist), then they will just turn out flimsy and weak. Every character must be strong, even if it is a minor character that neither helps nor hinders the progress of your book. On top of that, every character must be flawed in some fashion. For Example: The protagonist has a dark secret to hide, he was beaten with the ugly stick or he even suffers from drug addiction.
Now comes the part where I will probably be shipped of to Terrell to weave wicker baskets and feed nuts to squirrels for the rest of my life. When I write, my characters speak to me. As I am writing about them, they seem so real that I can actually see them in my mind and hear all of their unique voices. They don't speak to me all the time, just when I need to figure out which direction to take the story. If anyone knows the setting and situation the best, it would be the characters. So I always listen to what they say, because they know their limitations.
Now it's time for me to get struck down by a bolt of lightening. To the characters, you are their god. You control every aspect of their life. You choose where they work, how much money they make, who they can and can not fall in love with and where (and if) they live. To sum it all up, you hold their fates in the palm of your hands. Who lives? Who dies? That's up to you. For me it is really hard to kill off some characters, but there are others that I know right off the bat that will not make it to Chapter 10.
If you asked me, personally I believe (whether you like it or not) every character is a mirror of your own subconscious. Sure you try to avoid that...but it will tend to slip out in bits and pieces. I'm not saying that inside of you is pure evil that wants to blow up half the planet...but some of the mannerisms...some of the thoughts...some of the feelings subconsciously slip through into your antagonist or any other character.
So if you want to get into the writing game, developing a person is one of the first steps to the next great book. Give it a try even if you don't want to write a book because creating your own personal character is actually really fun.
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