It’s a standard piece of writing advice echoed by Stephen King: “Kill your darlings, kill your darlings, kill your darlings.” In other words, don’t be so in love with a character or a scene or a line of dialogue or a setting that you can’t axe it when you have to.

Sometimes great characters do nothing to motivate the characters around them. Sometimes great scenes and awesome lines of dialogue slow things down or don’t fit right or don’t make sense to your beta readers (and you should listen to your beta readers). Good writing is also good editing, and you need to learn to do it even if it breaks your damn heart Continue reading →

Recently, I had to revisit a manuscript that I’d set aside for a while. And that’s a good thing. I haven’t had a reread on this in nearly six months, and seeing it with fresh eyes has made a world of difference. It’s also a really, really good feeling to be falling in love with my hero (and heroine) all over again.

When I first wrote this particular book, I asked my daughter for some feedback on her ideal guy. These protagonists were younger than I usually write, and I thought it might be good to have another perspective. Continue reading →

“So you’re a writer!”

Cue deer-in-headlights look.

“Um….yeah. I am.” (Put some more conviction in your voice, dammit!) “I’m a writer.”

“So what are you writing?”

“It’s a story about a girl and she steals people’s dying breath so she can sing their stories to the stars.”

“Oh.”

“And there’s a whole council of magical beings defined by the four elements and -“

(Their eyes are wandering. They’re bored. I knew they wouldn’t get it.)

“That sounds crazy!”

“Yeah, it is. I mean, no, it’s cool and the way she and the guy end up finding each other is -“

(Their eyes are drifting again and what the hell am I giving up the entire plot for? Shut the f**k up, already. Idiot.)

“Well, good luck with that.”

“Thanks.” (Should I get more wine? I barely drank any. I should probably look like I regularly drink wine. But I don’t want to seem drunk. Or be drunk. God knows I’ll be drawing plot diagrams with refrigerator magnets if I don’t watch myself.)

“Hi! Lisa tells me you’re a writer!”

(Turn slowly, smile widely) Yeah, I am.” (That was nice and confident. Yes it was.)

“What are you writing?”

(Pause) “It’s a romance.” (Smile)

“Nice! Do you need more wine?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

(I am the master of my fate. I am the Captain of my soul…)

I began my book Someday In Dublin with an entire chapter full of flirting. Eyes meet across a crowded pub, slide away, slide back again. Those same eyes look over a pint at her as she smooths her hair behind her ear and pretends to be reading. They play this game of moves and counter-moves for nearly the entire first chapter until one of them straps on a set of balls and makes the first official move.

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See that? That’s a helpful chart –  I mean a really, really helpful chart. I’ve kept it in my writer file for a while now and figured I’d trot it out and pass it along. Not sure where I found it originally – probably on some writer’s forum, but it’s handy to have.

Mark Twain once said, “Substitute ‘damn’ every time you’re inclined to write ‘very;’ your editor will delete it and the writing will be just as it should be.” 

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I have an affliction.

I have a really great memory. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but in my case…it’s a really great selective memory.

Will I remember that I have to pick up marshmallow fluff at the store tonight? Nope. Do I know where I put my damn car keys? Nope. Can I tell you whether or not I scheduled that meeting at the day job that I was supposed to facilitate? Hopefully.

But ask me about behind-the-scenes movie trivia, or historical oddities, or geographic anomalies, and I’m your girl. My family calls it “The vault of useless information.” I’m awesome in trivia challenges, but hell if I can tell you what I had for dinner on Tuesday.

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Please excuse the tardiness of this post…I was busy writing, you see.

Since Saturday, I have seriously been on a roll. I logged 5300 words this weekend, and another 1200 yesterday. 980 so far for today, and they seem like reasonably good words, too. I mean, all in the right order, somewhat coherent, and telling a story in a descriptive and occasionally dynamic fashion.

At least, it seems this way for now.

I’ll go back once the first draft is done and scratch my head and wonder what the f**k I was thinking, but just now…just now I feel really accomplished.

I know I’ll hit a wall soon (or should I say a block) and I’ll be grinding those words out, pulling them with pliers from my brain and knowing they’re crap even as I fish them out, so when the muse is visiting, you gotta make the most of it.

Back to the story.

And will somebody please tell that other story to leave me alone? I’m working here!

I’ve always said I could have been a cultural anthropologist.

Back in my married days, the ex was a huge history buff, and we cheerfully toured museums and battlefields galore. He was fascinated by the war stuff – strategy and armaments and logistics.

Me? BORESVILLE.

I couldn’t care less how they won the damn battle, or with what weaponry or how they compensated for weather or lack of tanks or ammo when planning an attack. But show me a display with a soldier’s diary, or a letter home, or a picture he carried in his wallet, and I’m immersed.

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