#SaturdayScene Part II

#SaturdayScenes

This piece is from Red, the novel I am publishing in November. It is coming from the perspective of Jac, a rather evil blast from Little Red's past. This is before the second editing phase but I hope you all enjoy!

***

　　　　I waited patiently in the expensive leather chair I had imported from Italy. I liked them enough not to want to live without them and it was evenings like this I knew I had made the right decision. I had gone against her to make sure these were included in this room, making the partnership seem more even. This was our place of business, not just hers. 

　　　　I twisted the whiskey glass that was pooling water in my hand and took a sip. If there was anything I had learned it was that the old witch did not like to be rushed, but I was becoming restless. The only thing worse than an angry witch was a restless wolf. Well, except possibly in this case. She was an extremely uptight witch already and evil to the core. I wouldn’t want to see the poor sucker who challenged her power. Thankfully we wouldn’t need to test each other since the thick door opened, quietly exposing a shadow slipping in. 

　　　　We’d made sure to have this place completely soundproof, a necessity with so many good ears around. It was good sized and made of precious mahogany. A bar sat in the opposite corner of the meeting area. Massive bookshelves filled with ancient texts lined the entirety of the walls. I’d often thought this room looked as if it belonged to an aging professor rather than two criminal masterminds plotting war. She walked in, poised as ever, pulling my gaze from the books.

　　　　She poured herself a drink at the bar before she took the seat across from me. She crossed her mile long legs and smirked. She was lithe, deadly and beautiful. If I were a lesser man I would have been very tempted to pursue this one, but I had bigger things to deal with and a betrothed to wed. Besides, I heard the stories of the men that she bed. Most were no longer able to tell the tales themselves since they’d been muted, deafened and blinded. Poor bastards. By the time she took her second sip I had enough of waiting for her.

　　　　“I’m glad you called this meeting. She must have agreed to your proposal then.” She measured me with sharp eyes before taking a long pull from her glass.

　　　　“No, she refused. But, not to worry. She will come around soon.”

　　　　I squeezed my fists, shattering glass, whiskey and water running down into the pristine leather.

　　　　“What do you mean, do not worry? I will have her either way, witch. Make no mistake about my intentions. You should be the one to worry. If she does not come willingly to me the deal is off. You will no longer have the Trackers on your side to fight the Guard. Instead we will turn against you, giving into our very instinct. Your dogs, as you so lovingly call them, will not come to your aid and that will be the end of your life long revenge.” I sneered at her. “You forget your place in this plan. I have half a mind to just take her now and be done with this nonsense.”

　　　　She set her half empty glass onto the table, a too smug smile creeping onto her face.

　　　　“Try, Mr. Dubois. I won’t even threaten to stop you. But, I feel I must tell you that another player has entered our game. One who makes us both look like mice and since I’m not the one after our dear Red, I fear it will not be me that he will be hunting.”

　　　　She threw back her head and laughed, a dark sound that made every hair on my body stand to attention. I lunged at her, grabbing her throat in my already shifted claws, the white fur of my wolf brushing her face.

　　　　“What do you know witch?” 

　　　　She stopped abruptly finally looking directly into my eyes, challenging me to try something.

　　　　“Follow the girl and see for yourself, Wolf! And when you come back with your tail between your legs maybe you’ll be able to remember not to bite the hand that feeds.”

　　　　With her words ringing in my ear, pushing me forward, I stormed out of the house, ripping through my remaining clothing as soon as my feet hit the forest floor. 

The Mistakes of a First Time Novelist

Well, sort of...

Writing the first draft-- Check!

Editing your first draft-- Check!

Writing your second draft-- Check!

Sending to Betas-- Check!

Making Beta Edits-- Check!

Realizing you didn't edit your first draft that great and now your second draft back with Beta edits is a gleaming red mess of word soup?-- Uhm? Check :(

The moral of my checklist is, well, there isn't one. I thought when I started this crazy (stupid, emotional, erratic, stressful and oddly euphoric) ride of writing a novel that everything could be done in nice little steps and eventually I would make it to the top. I was wrong. Dead wrong. At least for the process as I know it. And it's not for lack of trying.

I started this all with NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) thinking, 'writing a novel in a month with a bunch of awesome people? Sure, why the hell not!' Then I learned that I wouldn't be done once 50,000 words were hit. I learned that I couldn't just leave my characters in a jumble of sentences that more often than not didn't make any sense. So I did what any insane human would do. I decided I need to get the damn thing ready to be published. 

At this point I sought out advice, checklists, wisdom. Anything that could possibly make this process easier and you know what? That absolutely failed. Sure I heard a lot that made the wheels in my brain turn. I started looking at things that I never thought of before. I got to compile a few friends in the process that I could bounce my questions off of. In these senses it was a beautiful thing. But in the hope of finding the fastest, safest route to becoming a novelist, well, it didn't go as I would have hoped. 

See, everyone has a different path in writing. Everyone is going to contradict the others and give opinions that are both off-the-wall and sound. In other words, they can't help you. I've come to see that I am the only one that can help me find the best path and to do that I have to fail exuberant amounts of times. I have to question myself, doubt myself and ultimately trust myself to make the correct decisions because if I follow someone else's journey? There will never be any success. I truly believe that.

I guess the proof in the pudding is that I'm still editing because I did something that worked for a more seasoned author that honestly, isn't working for me. My first and second drafts were done so "willy nilly" that I know I need to hash them out a little more. I know that my writing needs to be improved line by line and only now that I am most familiar with my story am I capable of doing that. Only now that I've desecrated a few things can I rebuild. 

So, my advice? Take all the advice you can get. Try everything that people offer. Give an ear to people you trust and those you do not. But in the end choose what works for you. There is no universal check list. There is no easy path to success or a job well done for mediocrity. I know that I need to do another complete overhaul before I submit to an editor and that I probably need another round of beta's too. So despite the feeling I have to 'stick to the checklist' I know that I'll be the only one in the end who suffers. Well, me and my characters. 

Despite how green the other grass looks, trust that you'll be happier (and more proud) if you just water your own.

:)

My First Saturday Scene

This is my first #saturdayscenes post. It's from my novel Red that I am hoping to have published in fall. 

Felan, second in command of the Guard (a group of dead heroes whose job is to keep peace on Earth between humans and the other things that go bump in the night and can shift into wolves, i.e. werewolves), is on "vacation" visiting his great (more than great since Felan is centuries old) grandson. He's gone a run after dinner and has found a scent that is troubling him.

I hope you enjoy! :)

***

I sprinted back into the house, shifting back to human in mid-air while flying through the open glass door, completely disregarding getting dressed. I was too shocked, confused and on the edge of losing all composure. Why would my home be surrounded in that scent? I'd dreamed about it in other circumstances but knew it could only be a dream. A sudden notion occurred to me, and I could hold my silence no more.

"ALISTAR!" I yelled.

Waiting only a few moments I ran up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. Alistair sat on his bed, reading, a look of indifference carefully shown on his face. He looked up only briefly before returning to his book. I knew he saw only the agitated wolf instead of the naked, but agitated, man standing before him. He continued to ignore me, my patience with him growly rapidly thin, so I folded my arms and stood to my full height. 

"I will not deal with the wolf, Felan Conall Aegnus! We've talked about this. Come back when your humanity is present and the animal is at bay."

Everyone had their own opinions about what we were, since there wasn't exactly a handbook or a guide to explain everything. The Fates held their secrets tight. When I died I was told this was my duty, that I had always been a wolf in a man's skin. It was only fitting that I become what I was always destined to be. Fenrir spoke in riddles but I assumed it to mean my animal and me were one in the same. Alistair, on the other hand, had come to think they were two separate beings-the man, and the beast. He thought it was something I could fight, something I chose to be. I knew better than to be that naive. 

I stood there waiting, wanting to rip the room to shreds, hoping he would come to his better senses and talk to me now. The way his eyes stayed firmly planted in his book made it clear he wasn't going to. I growled as I stormed back down the stairs, slamming my ass into the living room couch. A thick snap of it's wood echoed in the room followed by my brutal cursing.

Becoming a Guard never changed who I was. The wolf was not a separate mind, rather just an extension of my own. I gained the senses and the form of a wolf when I died but I had always been the same person. I could be possessive and at times too aggressive. I always tried to be fair and do the honorable thing regardless of consequence. The only exception to my honorable role was when it came to what I considered mine. I would kill or die to protect my own. The fact that the only two enemies I had left in the world had come to my home, around my family, would have driven even my human self to act this way. He was the only family I had left and regardless of how he wanted to perceive what I had become he couldn't deny my reaction as just.
 
Why hadn't Alistair just asked me for help? He had no need to offer anyone a job. I was home now. I wrestled with the need to talk to that foolish son of mine. I took deep calming breaths until I was sure the glow in my eyes had died and my grip on the couch had lessened. I grabbed my clothes that were strewn on the steps and pulled them on, walking back up to where I knew he would still be. He would be waiting for me to calm down, silently reading his book to pass the time. He had known I would find the scent sooner or later. I stood in his doorway until he looked up.

“Ah, there you are Felan. Now, what is all the trouble about?” 
　　　　
His words were slow and calculated, talking with a tone I had used on him so many times as a boy. I hated the way he had begun to treat me, at times, like the child when I was far older than he would ever be. He was my descendant for Heaven’s sake, not the other way around.

“You know, son, they are both me. I am no different than the wolf as the man. We are the same in skin and in fur. You waste time waiting for something that is not real. It would be best for you to remember these things and forget what you hope to believe.” 

He grunted in disapproval.

“My beliefs will stand probably long after I’m gone. I hardly doubt that’s what you came stomping in here to talk about, hmm?”
　　　　
He waited for me to continue, the book still held upright in his hands.
　　　　
“Please tell me you did not hire a Vila as your new apprentice?” He just smiled as he earmarked his book. "The Presence of God", shone bright gold on the title page.

“No that is unacceptable.” I threw my hands up. “Do you understand the danger you are putting yourself in? Not only is she a danger in and of herself but she has a Tracker following her." I sighed out, disgusted. "Why? Why would you bring this here? I didn't teach you to feel their presence so you could invite them in!”

He finally put the book down, the cover page facing up in mockery, before looking me square in the eye, challenging my outrage.
　　　　
“Like I told you earlier, she is the only one who showed. She responded to a job posting and I need the help. Besides, she is young, Nothing I could fall in love with. She’s full of bitterness and has a sharper tongue than even you. There was no happiness in her eyes. She didn't flirt or giggle and provided no lust or lure. She barely even spoke to me. It will be fine, you need to trust me. I am no longer a child for you to boss around as you please.” He glared at me for a moment before his eyes softened. “It’s only temporary and besides you yourself have said they are not evil, only undecided. They have yet to choose a path and what if I can help her chose the right one? Would you have me deny someone the chance to become something better? To damn someone to the Pits of the Earth simply because you are uncomfortable?”

I wanted to scream ‘YES, leave her to her fate’, but I knew that I couldn’t. He was right. Vila’s were chosen because of their inability to fulfill any purpose in life, mostly driven by their selfishness. But being selfish didn't necessarily make you evil, making the Kingdom and the Pit come to an agreement.They would put the undecideds in the Halfway, so they may chose their own fate. They would have to decide to give up and fall to the Pit or to seek redemption and be granted access into the Kingdom. I had seen that one single moment can change a person’s entire course and that was what Alistair was trying to accomplish. I didn't have the heart to try and explain that this one couldn't be saved. That I had already tried. I sighed in resignation.
　　　　
“Fine. But I am staying here until it’s over. If anything happens I will kill her. That is the risk you are taking.”

“I understand, but it won't come to that. Take it on faith.”

#SaturdayScenes

A Break From the Norm

This is only my second #SaturdayScenes but I am taking a break from Red. The editing is in the on going process and it's all on paper making it exceptionally time consuming to put it all online in an edited version. I don't have that kind of time today but I did want to put something out. So here is a short piece I did for a contest. I haven't quite figured out where it goes yet but I like it just the same. Hope you do as well. :)

       At 3:00pm every Tuesday I walk into the coffee shop on Main. I order from the young man behind the counter and watch the same guitarist play. She's young, only seventeen and there's no logical reason for her to recognize me, but I still pray every time that she will. 

      An hour goes by where she sings of abandon and heartache before she packs her things, pockets the tips and heads out the door. Her smile is always genuine despite the pain of her music and the patrons always ask for just one more. I know I have no right to feel proud, but for some unexplainable reason I do and I promise myself that next week I'll tell her as much.

     I trash my paper cup and head back to the apartment I'm currently sharing with two other women just like me. It isn't much but it's more than I've ever truly had and I can't stop smiling from the progress I've made. I'm only forty-two years old and I have an entire life ahead of me. One that unimaginably, has been filled with Opportunities that although I may not deserve, I will damn well not squander. I've given up too much already.

     This is coming from a woman who's made her fair share of mistakes, but I'm trying to repent. I've decided the best way to move forward is to remember my past and to take a chance for once on telling the truth. Maybe is she only knew the whole story she wouldn't be able to hate me as much as I do. 

It's short, it's sad and it's probably not enough to be considered a scene. But for now, it's what I have. I at least wanted to put something out there. Next week I'm pretty sure I'll have something from Red. 

Ciao!

Blogging Interview

Meet My Main Character

It's been awhile since I've blogged (well really since I've been doing anything other than editing Red) but when you get tagged to write an interview on your main character? You do not refuse. Even though I am knee deep in the dump pile of editing Red I still love to talk about my main character because, to me, she is a part of everyone's past that they just didn't realize. That's why I love fairytale retellings. 

So, without further ado (and babbling) the interview:

1) What is the name of your character? Is he/she fictional or historical? 

           My main character's name is Scarlett Perdu, or as everyone else knows her Red. She's a unique blend of both historical and fictional. I have taken a fairly well known story, Little Red Riding Hood, and given the main character a voice and a rather realistic background. That is until the magic starts. The story that everyone knows and loves was written in 1697 in France. It has been speculated that Red Riding Hood was an actual person, even though the story was exaggerated. I guess it all depends on whether or not you believe fairy tales were ever based on real people.

2) When and Where is the story set? 

          My story begins in 1697, France however, that's only to give the true background on the story. The real adventure begins in Fall of the current time in Snoqualmie, WA. The spanning hills and deep set forests of Washington State make the perfect setting for wolves, witches, gods and things I know you haven't yet heard of. The first book in this series is set mostly on the outskirts of any major cities and is in a very small radius of area. But, who knows maybe in the future they'll go back to where it all started...

3) What should we know about her?

       Red is a tough cookie. She's working through accepting who she has become (which is something she absolutely hates). She can be very sweet but also abrupt and hard to deal with. Red is stuck in a place of staying who she's always been (because she thinks that's who she is) and really becoming who she's supposed to be. She is sarcastic and has a tendency to think badly of herself, and she doesn't like other people to be a target of her mistakes. Despite all the magical elements of the story, Red's journey on figuring out who she is and if her past really defines who she can be in the future is the real focus. The question of whether your mistakes make you an evil person is asked quite frequently and may even be answered in the end.

4) What is the main conflict? What messes up his/her life?

       Her death, originally, is what starts the whole mess but the true conflict I'm focusing on is when other people think you're more worthy than you yourself think and how you handle it. When Felan comes into the picture and gives Red something to focus on other than herself, it becomes a choice of choosing the better options. Can you change who you think you are to become something better? Despite what's happened to you or what you have done to deserve it? When life becomes bigger than just Red and her family she's faced with the tough decisions she's been running from ever since she died the first time.

5) What is the personal goal of the character?

     This is a hard question because it almost causes me to give too much away. But essentially Red wants to become good again. She wants to be rid of the curse and no longer be inhuman. She wants a second chance at life, which is doesn't think is possible in her current state. She is a definite believer in 'the grass is always greener' scenario. And I'm hoping she finds what she's looking for. 8)

6) Is there a working title for this novel, and can we read more about it? 

  

     The title of book #1 is: Red: Guarding the Vila Series. The best way to keep up with the series is here on G+. I try to keep everyone updated and I'm going to start blogging more about it's release after the editing phase is done!

7) When can we expect the book to be published?

      I am shooting for Fall of 2014. My timeline has it set for November, but I'm working my butt off to get it out sooner. It all depends on funding and editing. But no matter what it'll be no later than November! 

Hope you all enjoyed a little delve into Red. She wasn't the biggest fan but hey, sometimes you've got to do a little bad to create the best.