My Writing Process

My critique partner and wonderful friend, Ilima Todd, tagged me for this bloghop, in which I answer a few questions about my writing process. I was supposed to have this post up 'n' ready a few days ago, but I experienced a nasty bout of unexpected cholingitis and appendicitis and had my gallbladder and appendix removed. So here I am with this post--better late than never!


What am I working on?
I'm in the plotting/researching phase of a new fantasy trilogy. It's all hush-hush right now. (I have to keep the magic going!)


How does my work differ from others of its genre?

I write YA fantasy that's usually epic in scope and very romantic. The plots are complex, and I'm drawn to tackling high concepts (not having a name, the inability to feel the sense of touch, falling in love with someone invisible, time-travel through dreams), and my style has a lyrical and literary bent while still being commercial.

Why do I write what I do?

An idea will take hold of me and won't let go. I'll wake up in the night with inspiration about it, songs will remind me of it--basically, it just consumes all my thoughts. Sometimes that initial spark of an idea is a character, sometimes it's a myth I want to play with, and sometimes it's a image that grips me.

So far my stories involve time periods in the past. I love history, mythology, and classical plays and novels, and I'm an actress who's done a lot of Shakespeare. So I naturally like to delve into writing novels involving the past, though I have some fun contemporary novel ideas I'd love to explore one day.

How does my writing process work?

For a few months, I let the idea percolate in my mind. Once I have a more tangible hold on it, I start researching. I read lots of non-fiction books, make a big binder with copies from library book pages (setting, customs, costumes, food, religion, etc.), and I watch films (mostly classics) that have elements in them that remind me of my story. Once I feel my brain will explode from research (a very frustrating feeling), I crack down and outline the book. This is usually a blend of the Blake Snyder Beat Sheet and some of James Scott Bells methods (I've done brainstorming scenes on notecards and then arranging them into a linear story, for example). I don't outline extensively, but I jot down a nutshell of what happens in the major scenes. Then I write! I'm not the fastest writer, but usually in about four months, I've completed my first draft (better than the first draft of my first novel, which took 1.5 years--ouch!). Then I revise, which goes quicker than the drafting for me. The slowest part is mincing words, since I tend to be an overwriter, but I've gotten really good at it. I cut 50,000 off my first novel. (Yeah.) Then I send my manuscript to beta readers and do more revising, and then send to my agent and do more revising if he sees fit. Finally, it's submissions time--and time for me to quickly get my mind onto something else!


If you write, tell me a little about your process. I've learned no way is the "wrong way." And for the bloghop, I'm tagging Emily R. King and Rosalyn Collings Eves. :-)

Remembering My Grandparents

A book about Grandpa Ralph

Since it's Memorial Day weekend, I wanted to pay a little tribute to my deceased grandparents. They all had a profound impact on me. 

Grandpa Ralph

My mom's dad passed away from a complication of hemophilia (a rare bleeding disorder) when she was only eighteen year's old. When I was a little girl, I imagined Grandpa Ralph was buried in a quiet corner of our backyard. I'd sit there often and think about him. He spent a third of his life in a hospital, but he managed to live such a full life. He was an avid journal writer and an expert in classical music. Now I have a little boy with hemophilia, so I appreciate my Grandpa Ralph even more. The medicines are much better today, so my boy doesn't face the same level of challenges. Somehow, I feel grateful to my grandpa for that, as if he paved the way to make things easier for my son. Grandpa Ralph, thank you for teaching me to not take anything for granted, and for having an amazing attitude, despite your setbacks.

Grandma Doris

My dad's mother died of cancer when I was eight years old. I remember her fondly. She lived in a little yellow house in Boise, Idaho. As soon as I walked through those front doors, I felt enfolded in peace and love. Grandma Doris was quiet, gentle, beautiful. But underneath that was fire and passion. One time she pulled us grandkids into her kitchen and performed an enthusiastic clog dance. I couldn't have been more surprised. She also painted--mostly pictures of Christ. My favorite was on a canvas of deep purple velvet. Grandma Doris' faith didn't come easily, but she held onto her convictions. For much of her adult life she was addicted to Valium, which she took at a dose her doctor prescribed. Only in the last few years of her life, was she able to break the addiction. The lesson I learned from Grandma Doris is, no matter what, you can always choose happiness; that's a freedom no one can take from you.

Grandma Georgia

One word best describes my mom's mom: feisty. She was self-confident, free-spirited, outspoken, sharp as a tack. I actually didn't like her very much as a little girl. One time after I'd finished cleaning the laundry room, she came in to inspect and announced I'd neglected to wash the inside of the washing machine. Yeah! But in my teens, I grew to love her immensely. She always wore crazy big jewelry and animal print jumpsuits. She'd even snarl like a cat. Even though she was raised on a ranch in Montana, Grandma Georgia loved to act and sing. She and her sister performed together in a duo-act called the "Collins Sisters" (like the singing sisters in White Christmas). Grandma Georgia was a socialite and always the center of attention. She got Alzheimer's late in life, and it was painful to see her slowly decline. I learned from Grandma Georgia that life is beautiful if you work hard and don't complain (remember, she was married to Ralph, who practically lived in a hospital), but life is also about having FUN.

Grandpa Shaw

After Grandpa Ralph passed away, my Grandma Georgia married Larry Shaw. I've never seen a man who doted on his wife more. He enjoyed watching her in the limelight and did everything she wanted. This man had a smile on his face--ALWAYS. There's a picture taken on my wedding day where my veil caught the wind and blew over Grandpa Shaw's face, yet he just kept smiling for the camera. Later, when Grandma Georgia got Alzheimer's, Grandpa Shaw took the most loving care of her. My Grandpa Shaw left me with a legacy of complete selflessness. He was truly one of a kind.

I love you, dear grandparents. Thank you for everything you gave me. You're forever in my heart.