Brenda's Writing Blog

I have two novels that should and will not ever see print . . . or sunlight.  Funny, one of them actually snagged me an agent for a year at a reputable agency.  That was 2001.

Since that book, I’ve written 6 others, all YA.  It was during these years where I developed my voice, style and made up my mind (sort of) as to what my focus should be.  All of these have rode the “query go round” in the past, but what makes me decide what to resurrect and what to shelve?

Typically, it’s the agent rejections themselves. I really didn’t get alot of form rejections on these projects and all of them had at least twenty agent requests for partials or full reads. Many rejections commented on market conditions or the “hard sell” of the genre. 

My other home is the local B&N.  It’s really close to where both B2, B3 and B4 practice sports, so if I have a couple hours to kill, that’s where I’ll go. As I browse the YA section, the shelves are crammed full of girl-centered urban fantasy. I mean crammed freakin’ full of it.  Now I’m certain these novels were queried, agented and contracted a year to a year and a half ago, so a brilliant writer could submit a great YA urban fantasy to an agent or publisher, but it would still be a hard sell. Not because the book wasn’t worthy but just because the market is so darned saturated.

The particular project that I’ve decided to resurrect and query is a YA boy-centered civil war historical. I got wonderful feedback from agents about three years ago. During that time agencies and agents have come and gone.  I sent out ten e-queries on Sunday and I’ve already received three requests for the manuscript.

Today, I need to finish the read through of the manuscript before I send it off tonight. I also need to start plotting two book reviews for the November Issue of the SDR.  I also have to get to work.  Have a wonderfuly day!

Today anyway.  Check out my blog post CARPE DIEM . . . OR NOT on THE SCRUFFY DOG REVIEW BLOG.

My beloved Husqvarna backpack is giving me some major neck and back pain, so I had to retire it for a messenger bag. I love that backpack and even after three years of nonstop use, it is still in great shape. It just had “rugged individual” written all over it.

The messenger bag does have a bit more space and since I haven’t decided which project I’m going to focus on, I stuffed a notebook for each project, a binder to hold research and notes for both projects as well has my wireless mouse, external hard drive, planner and work computer in it. No wonder I have pains in the right side of my body.  Perhaps I’ll carry it on my left side for awhile.

I finished typing all of my handwritten pages of  Project 3 tonight and did some editing for another SDR blog post next week.

Now it’s off to pack lunches for tomorrow and give B1 his list of things to do for tomorrow.  Since both B2 and B3 have a volleyball games tomorrow, he’ll have to pick up B4 from school and probably take him to football practice.

Project #3  2376 words / 60000 words  3.96%

Project # 1 957 words / 60000 words  1.60%

The sun came out around noon, drying up the water from yesterday’s rain. But boy, did it get hot! I’m glad I’m inside doing the gazillion loads of laundry I didn’t get done yesterday.

B2 has been invited to be a part of her friend’s Quinceañera.  I didn’t even know these existed until she told me about it, but it is definitely an honor.  She’s over at the country club right now for her first ballroom dancing lesson.  God, I’d love to be a fly on the wall.  It’s got to be hysterical – not for B2 because she’s had 7 years of ballet, but she’s one of 14 kids in the court.

I sent out nine queries for a project today and I’m working on New Project 3.  I’ve about 1000 words written for New Project 3 (which is a revamped New Project 2) and New Project 1.  I’m not certain which one I want to focus on.  I have to pick one because I know if I don’t, neither one of them will get done.  So, here are the openings. Can you help me decide?

Chapter 1 of Project 3

      “He knows you’re here,” the nurse said.

      “How so,” Raina asked, not bothering to look up. She was a critical point in her work.

      “I won’t bore you with the details . . . that’s just what the research says.”

      Raina didn’t see how. Rob had been unconscious since the accident a week ago. She didn’t want to think about what people said happened. She couldn’t, not now, maybe not ever. She focused, her ink on Rob’s arm, just her and her art. The only sounds were her deep breaths and the steady beats from the life support.

      “That’s unusual,” the nurse said, looking over Raina’s shoulder. “Did he let you draw on him before the accident.”

      “He used to . . . before-.” Raina stopped talking. “Should I not? It’s henna – completely washable.” She couldn’t quit now.

      “I won’t tell if you won’t.” The nurse stood still, moving only her mouth as she counted Rob’s heartbeats. The antiseptic smell of sick people and sanitized stainless steel overwhelmed her.

      “Thank you. When he wakes up, I want him to know that I’ve been here. He’ll recognize the tattoo.”

      “As I said before, he knows you’re here.” She quietly left the room.

      Raina glanced at her watch. If she stayed to finish, she’d be late for school, not that her being there made a difference. It was the last week of class and her finals were finished. Worse, she’d have to stand silently by and watch as the other kids poured out their sympathy and attention to Rob’s girlfriend Jenna.

      It wouldn’t have mattered as much if she thought Jenna was actually concerned about Rob, but Jenna’s only concern was Jenna. No one cared or even remembered that Raina and Rob were best friends until high school – when their friendship was ripped apart by some invisible tear in the social fabric that threaded itself through every student who entered its hallowed halls. Of course he’d still pop over to her house when he had nothing else going on, pretending like things hadn’t changed. But they had.

      It was all so unfair. She hated feeling this way. Life always had its share of bump and bruises, but the feeling of helplessness as her best friend drifted away and now this just sucked.

Chapter 1 of New Project 1

Saint Denis, France May 1212

       A tattered cloak made its way, seemingly without notice, through the marketplace of Saint Denis. Beneath the hood, Isidora exposed only enough of her eyes to see the muddy road that led to the town square and kept her haversack of elixirs and potions close to her. The sick folk at the marketplace would just have to wait until tomorrow to purchase their medicines – she had business to attend to. Urgent business. In less than an hour her mother was to be tried as a witch.

      A dead wind blew through the winding streets, touching everything with cold, even though the sun was shining. Isidora pulled her cloak closer to her throat, remembering her mother’s repeated warning that cold, damp air carries ill spirits. The town was certainly full of ill spirits today.

      “Watch it!” hollered an old man pushing a heavy cart, when she stepped into his path.

      “Pardon,” she whispered, and stepped back to let him pass. There was already a crowd gathers in the square and she snaked her way to the front, hoping her mother wouldn’t see her.

      Aubrey Barton looked pitiful – dirty clothes, ratty black hair and smudges of dirt on her face, and it was obvious that she hadn’t had a decent meal or a restful night since King Phillip’s men took her away over a week ago. Despite her shambled appearance and the shackles, Isidora could see the fire in her eyes and the will to survive. She’d be found innocent and come home soon, Isidora reasoned. After all, she’d done nothing wrong. Nothing other than spurn the attention of a powerful townsman.

I didn’t go to B4’s football game today at 5 pm. It’s raining and only 64 degrees. The other three kids are at a local festival with friends. B3 texted me about bringing her a sweatshirt, but it ain’t going to happen anytime soon.

I was asked to make some more chicken noodle soup and did.  It’s easy and filling. Maybe B1 will stay around long enough to get some before it’s devoured.  Last time it was all gone before he came home.  With regards to food around this house. It’s “snooze ya lose” baby!

Today, it’s all about washing bed linens.  That equates to about ten loads of laundry in addition to the normal ten loads.  They have to make their own beds back though.  Either that or they can sleep on a bare mattress like prisoners. 

I wrote a blog post for THE SCRUFFY DOG REVIEW BLOG and plan to post it on Monday after I do one more edit, probably tomorrow.  I also drafted my next post.  I also have two books I want to get reviews written before the next issue of the magazine. 

Colin, who is a webdesigner extraordinaire, sent the SDR editors some website templates today.  I picked three I felt would work very well.  I’m very excited about the new look.

Well, I’m off to another exciting load of laundry.  Have a nice weekend everyone.

. . . her – vivacious, hard-working, fun-loving, inspiring, tenacious and one most well-rounded writers I know.  Sure we are on separate ends with political thinking, but from this I can get another perspective. What fun is it  to surround yourself only with people who think like you do?

So, I’m making some changes. I’m stepping down as webmaster for The Scruffy Dog Review, handing it off to someone much more capable.  I love reading stories and planning the magazine, but honestly, web formatting is not my thing, nor do I like it. I can certainly write the content, but putting it in the right place is a bitch! Now I can spend my time writing articles for the blog, perhaps a column or something more creative. I’m positive it is the right decision for the magazine and the wonderful editors, authors and readers who make it possible.  I’m excited to see what he does with it.

More free time just fell into my lap too, but not by choice. The company asked for volunteers to take a furlough of 10 days, 15 days or 20 days. A company I worked for did this same thing after the dot.com crash of 2001, but employees became very unpopular if they didn’t volunteer.  This particular forlough didn’t save any jobs over time, but did delay the lay-offs by about six months or so.

So to fulfill my corporate “good faith effort”, I asked for every Monday off from now until the end of the year and the Wednesday before Thanksgiving just to give me 15 days. I did my part.

That for the well-wishes after B4’s accident. He’s back to normal, if he ever was normal. The coach won’t let him do the “fun” hitting practice, but he does have to run the other drills.

I think I’ve settled on a new look for my blog.  I moved blogging services from another site to WordPress because I was so tired of the templates they offered. I’m feeling that way again, but it’s not WordPress’s fault.  It’s my restlessness.

The picture I chose for the header is of a place near to where I grew up.  It’s beautiful there, right by the riverbank.  The kids were playing in the shallow water when this picture was taken, so I effortlessly cropped them out. (Edit – changed template again.  The format looked screwy on my work computer). Too bad I can’t make them disappear like that in real life. Let’s see, where do I start . . .

B1 is grounded because he has four D’s (not a way to get into Wake Forest, my son), B3 left her volleyball shoes in the school gym overnight and was shocked when they weren’t there the next day.  Hopefully lesson learned because she has to wear her old worn-out shoes until this weekend when she has to purchase a new pair with her own money. I’m just glad it wasn’t her phone or her IPOD.

B3 just hates everyone right now but frankly, she’s the one most in tune to my “bitter” energy.  I think once my outlook changes, she’ll feel better too. Poor B4 just has to live with all the chaos until everything settles down.

Today is mine and hubby’s twenty year wedding anniversary.  Twenty years. Goodness gracious, I should write a book.  Would I do it again? Yes.  Would I do it differently? You betcha! I’d like to think so anyway.

I’m currently reading Philippa Gregory’s THE WHITE QUEEN. I must say, she knows her stuff about the War of the Roses and the way medival royal families killed, imprisioned, married and manipulated each other for power.

However, the way that King Edward fell madly in love with Lady Elizabeth Grey as she stood alongside a path with her two young sons ready to grovel for what she believed was rightfully hers bothered me.  This happened within the first two pages of the damned book and just felt like a half-assed (for lack of a better term) attempt at something that could have been so much better.  I almost gave up on the book right there.

Give me some tension, some struggle, some doubt – not a man falling all over himself for a widow at first sight. That’s too easy – a newbie’s way out. I’m certain there is some historical truth to the chance meeting, but it just came across as rushed to me. Too Edward Cullenish,  ”Bella, you are my life now . . . “.  Blech!  (And Edward didn’t even say that until near the end of the book.)

Not wanting to judge the author only on one book, I had THE OTHER BOLEYN GIRL in my hands at the bookstore, but put it back for another book. Maybe later.

I’ve found that in this economy, cutting back with little things help. I’ve found that the best things in life truly are free.  I’ve found I’m better off trusting my gut instinct.  I’ve learned that 9 times out of 10, people have a hidden agenda.  I’ve learned that online friends are just as valuable as ones you can touch.  I’ve found that I make killer chicken noodle soup. But most of all, I’ve learned that some would rather embrace lies and live in denial rather than seek the truth, no matter how ugly or uncomfortable the facts may be.  Am I getting better at reading people, or am I just getting old?

The day job is starting to become manageable after four months of chaos. It’s still busy and complicated, but I’m getting better at it.

Football season now upon us.  I’m not talking NFL, but PeeWee Football. B4 is in his fifth year and got the pleasure to being taken off the field on a stretcher and a neck brace, wheeled to an awaiting ambulance and driven to the hospital emergency room with a possible neck / spine injury.

Hubby was a the game, along with B3 and two of her softball friends. I was with B2 in another state at a softball tournament. I stayed surprising calm. For some reason, I knew it was nothing serious, despite the fanfare of medics and an ambulance.

Hubby rode in the ambulance with B4 and I had to leave B2 with her coach (he’s also our neighbor), race back up I-77 to the football field and pick up B3 and her friends, drive them two counties to get to their game (they were on a four-hour break), drive into uptown Charlotte to the hospital.

By the time I did all of that B4 had been released from the hospital, diagnosed what is call a “stinger” or a “burner”.  It’s amazing how much faster one get’s treated at the ER when they arrive by ambulance, on a stretcher wearing a neck brace.  The bill will probably be even more amazing.

So, I then drive Hubby and B4 back to the football field to get Hubby’s car, then drive back to South Carolina to watch B2’s next football game. Did I mention the miserable rainy drizzle off and on all day?

B1 got his first speeding ticket. Now we have to hire an attorney to make it “disappear” Darn teenagers!

I actually typed about 600 words that I’d written earlier this summer, before the day job collapsed on me. It felt good. It’s obviously a 1st draft, but it’s not bad.  Of course, I’ll re-read it and wonder why I even wrote it and truly believe it is garbage.

Well, now that things have calmed down a bit, I’ll blog more often.