I absolutely love that my mind is as creative as it is. Sometimes, it doesn’t stop being creative and my stories gain so much more perspective and grow. This series in particular, I could write (maybe) six books, four in the main story line, and two mini character stories.
It’s not just this series that attempts to barge its way onto paper, there are others. Some of them come from dreams, like Charlee or the story I have dubbed “Daisy.” Some of them come from trailing thoughts about a certain situation that I’ve encountered like my homeless guy story.
I also enjoy that I have a variety of stories that float to different genre’s. Like Horror, Thriller, Romance, et cetera. It keeps me versatile and I’m excited to be able to appeal to different audiences.
What isn’t fair? That these stories come out of the blue, all I can do is jot the idea down and set it aside. The excitement of story development has to be short-lived just because I have to focus on getting this book out and working on the rest of the series. If I could do this full time instead of working a full time unrelated job, I would be in heaven and… probably pump out novel after novel.
I can dream, can’t I?
I don’t have an excerpt to include, but a sketch of my main character in BTC. This is how I feel Charlee is, free minded and a daydreamer. I suppose some of her character is based on myself, but when you’re a writer, all of your characters are built with pieces of you. In this case, she would be my inner child, full of wonderment and love but also incredibly wiser than her years on Earth.
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When you already know the entirety of the story you’re wanting to tell, it’s hard to focus when you’re editing the first part. I have often found myself lingering back to writing parts of the second or possibly the third book. It’s both a beauty and a sin because I’m working so hard to get this first book just right.
Self Publishing opens the door to a lot of mistakes and I’m trying so hard not to be just that… A mistake. I don’t need to be distracted with hurriedly getting the entire story to paper, but I just can’t help it. These characters have been detained for so long, now that they’re finally coming out, they are doing so with full-force.
Here’s an excerpt of one of my favorite scenes that really defines the type of character. I have removed names so there aren’t any spoilers for the first book.
Their makeshift kitchen was a rusty, industrial nightmare. Gears and metal buckets on a pulley system loomed about them, swaying ever so slightly and permitting the creepiest of deteriorated squeaks. Over sized tools and cutlery were strewn on various slabs and tables, dripping with unidentifiable liquids.The air was hot and sticky,tasting of iron flakes and sea salt.
XXXXX looked up at him and smiled a crooked smile, with human dripping from her face. Using the back of her wrist, she wiped away some of the debris as she called out to one of the bodies hidden in a bucket. A seemingly meek girl peered her head over the rim, her eyes a faded, deathly blue.
“Don’t be shy, darling!” XXXXX called out with insincerity and an inching finger.
The petite girl raised her head a little more without hesitation. THWACK!
A grinding gear sawed its way through the back, splitting the right of her head. Her faded blue eye poured down her now mangled face as the gear continued to plow through , rippling and twisting her hair around it’s mechanics.
XXXXX dodged the spray of human while XXXXX welcomed the warm shower with her arms spread. She let out a giggle of delight as she threw her head back. She was enjoying herself too much.
While writing BTC, I often looked through different genres of music for inspiration. Since the setting of this book is based in the west side of North Carolina, I often found myself in folk music. Sometimes, a single song would serve as the backdrop to an entire scene, sometimes it was multiple. As the book progressed, the darker the music became. I will have to write a song list once I’m finished.
I was having a difficult time figuring out what to do with one of my characters. Up to that point, he didn’t play a prominent role in the book, but was an assisting (and amusing) character. My friend Katy was showing me a new album for the Pistol Annies, a genre that I don’t really like. I listened to a couple of songs and found the one that inspired this scene. Enjoy! 🙂
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The mound leveled out at the top. A small abandoned house sat, wasting away and allowing nature to reclaim it back to the earth. It leaned and groaned with its saddened, broken eyes, looking out upon the two women in its yard. The taller one was a voluptuous brunette with light eyes and full lips. She was pushing the petite blonde in a vine wrapped swing that was strung up on a thick branch in an overcasting tree. Her hair flowing in the wind like a dream.
Miles stopped to catch his breath, but also to stand in awe of the image before him. He was captivated by their melody as well as their beauty. He wasn’t sure if it was because of all of the toxins he consumed, but he felt compelled to be near them. Akiré coaxed him closer and the ladies took notice of their company while maintaining their spell binding a cappella.
Slowly, they moved towards him. Miles stood, frozen in admiration and in an unfamiliar lust. Shivers jolted through his spine as they snaked their fingers through his hair. He allowed their warm, soft palms to slither on his exposed, goose bumped skin. Akiré watched proudly as they seduced Miles into removing his shirt and uncovering his defined muscles. Moving about him like vultures, they entrancing him with the lyrics slipping through their lips.
Miles was so captured by their siren call that he didn’t notice other hunting parties were being ambushed on the other side of the hill. Humans being chased down, ripped from limb to limb or drug into the unknown by creatures this world has never seen before.
I’ve recently reached the 100 likes milestone on my Facebook page. It may seem miniscule, but just the interest alone keeps me going!
I’ve been pushing really hard, as you know, to get this completed. The First Draft is nearly finished with edits and then we move on with another review.
All the while, my characters are still beckoning me to move on with the second installment. “Why would you want to relive these old memories, when we have new ones to tell you about!”
I swear I am not crazy!
Here’s a tiny little excerpt in honor of those who were intrigued enough. Funny thing: this was actually just something I wrote out — it had no relation to the story. The more Charlee’s personality developed, the more this sounded like her. Really, it was all me.
The burning sensation of this past season’s dry, autumn leaves floated through Charlee’s cool nostrils. Genuinely, she smiled in appreciation as she stepped out of the chilling shadows. The warm golden light coated her tingling skin, warming her winter bones. She observed how it also warmed the earth and poured over it softly like a long awaited blanket of happiness. Her mind drifted poetically into the magic of the sun and all living things as the jolly birds shouted their song. Yes, spring. This was her favorite season.
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I’ve recently hit the gas on getting it edited because I feel there are great possibilities with this series. The story alone is so grand that it couldn’t end with just one book.
I have been making a habit of having everything read aloud, either by myself, someone else, or this great little online text-to-voice application.
It’s been really fun to hear my characters come to life! For many fiction writers, our characters live inside us and they almost become like our family. To be honest, they sometimes appear in my dreams telling me about things that have happened. Or fuss because I’ve removed a part of their story (don’t think I’m a crazy lady).
Charlee, in my case, is the most vocal. When I would take a long rest from writing, she would constantly be telling me to get back to it. Samantha (one of my editors) can attest to this as I have whined about it to her many times.
Reading their parts aloud yesterday, felt almost like they were in the room, acting out their scenes. We would laugh heavily at their little quips or for being silly teenagers. Kelsey literally growled as she can now see the little hidden parts that are laced throughout the book. Which is good because it means I hid them well!
I am excited to share these stories with you and will be incredibly sad when it’s over. Here’s another random excerpt:
He and Charlee have been friends since the day Richard Morgan (‘Foreskin’) shoved her off of the monkey bars in an argument about who was there first. Chris, seeing a girl in distress, sought vengeance by surprising Richard with a broken nose just before he reached the wood chip floor. Chris still claims the three day suspension was worth it.
In honor of my first 50 likes on Facebook, I decided to reveal an excerpt from some random point in my book. This is also apart of the original dream I had that started it all. 🙂 Leave some comments if you like!
The caw of the crows startled Charlee who looked upward in time to glimpse the shadow of their vicious wings fluttering in disturbance. She was back in the dense woods, barefooted and curious. The light up ahead called to her and she was further along the path than before. She felt the grains of dirt vibrate from a mysterious rhythm through the soles of her naked feet and a scent of something wild in the air.
Suctioned to the dark bark of various trees, a letter had been carelessly sprayed indicating that the path had a function. She traced the letter’s swirling shape as she passed by but it began to fade with her lingering touch, as if the bark absorbed its fluorescent color.
From behind her, a loud crack interrupted the distant lure of the music and Charlee immediately froze, swallowing her breaths. A low, rolling growl bellowed from the ground beneath her as she slowly turned.
I’ve always been told that I’m an adventurous girl and I cannot deny any of it. I would love to see the world and experience all of the stories it has to tell me.
I’ve always been a child of the arts, developing my senses in music, painting, sketching, crafting, et cetera. But writing…it was something I believe I was born with.
I’m not saying I’m amazing or the next Stephen King, just that I’m a natural. I can remember from the time that I learned how to read and write, I was eager to create my own world. I’d write the most lavishing and outlandish poems and short stories, then share them with my family or sometimes even (embarrassingly) with my classmates.
One of those stories resulted in the creation of this site.
As a child with an already wild imagination, I would always end up having these crazy dreams. One of those dreams ended up being so vivid, that I woke up in the middle of the night and wrote down everything I could remember.
From that point, the dream has evolved into more than a poem, short story, full story. It is soon to be the fruit of my 20 year procrastinating labor, and be published into a book. The first in a series.
Tune in to stay updated on the growth of the book and series. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have loved creating it!