Can't lie, I got absolutely nothing done yesterday!

It was worth it though, because two of my best friends came up from Chicago to visit. We didn't do anything in the category of terribly interesting, but we watched a pilot episode of one of my favorite series, my mom cooked us a great dinner, and I introduced them to good ol' Wisconsin custard. (Note: If you haven't tried it, it's a million times better than ice cream. Go get some. Now!) 

But no worries, because the day before that (gonna be honest, don't remember which day of the week that was) I got a WHOLE LOT done. How much, you ask? Did you finish chapter ten, you ask? 

A damn lot, and no. 

I've been working more and more on chapter eleven, which to me is really exciting and hard at the same time (you'll know once you've read it), and I couldn't bring myself to look at chapter ten again, partially because it was a trifle boring to write it. Stuff happens, but the stuff that happens makes me angry and nervous so I don't really want to put my whole heart into it. As most of you know, there's a lot that should technically make one angry and nervous, but this chapter is... well, different. 

It worries me, because one, each chapter has its own feel to me, almost like a separate story altogether, and I don't yet know how they work as one cohesive concept. Two, I'd always made up in the back of my mind that I would separate the chapters more once I finished the book... Just because as a reader, I HATE long chapters with a vengeance because it's hard for me to stop in the middle of things. But now it's getting more and more difficult to imagine this as more than a fifteen chapter (possibly less) monstrosity.

On a cooler note (for me, not you) I am on a reading high. Which is why I've gotten absolutely NO writing done today (I'll get to it eventually). I'm reading a vampire series (surprise surprise) that's actually good (surprise surprise). In high school I vowed (expected) that I would never be able to bring myself to leave the young adult section of books, and though that's true, I've lately been reading "deeper, more mature" novels, like CS Lewis' Till We Have Faces. But my heart has apparently remained (rather obstinately, I might add) in the YA section. Apparently even the snooty English classes I've been taking can't rip the YA out of me. It kind of rocks. This summer will probably be filled with YA novels that I tear through in a matter of hours (I'm predicting I'll be finishing the three book vampire series in two days), and I can honestly say I'm excited about that. 

Now if only I could get a job to support my renewed addiction... 

6 a.m. and you wouldn't believe the amount of sunrises I've seen this summer

The thing is, I meant to go to bed sooner. After getting up to go to lunch with a good old friend, I went to go see Transformers 2 with some other friends, got back around ten, worked on the book till around 1am. 

I consider that a pretty good day. My sleep schedule is finally working out, and I guess I sort of decided to shrug off last week as my zombie week. Yeah. Because Yesterday was amazing. It was exactly what I want this entire summer to be; an engaging balance of productivity, fun, and friends. Love it. 

Then freaking appliances had to ruin it! I've been awake all night. I turned off my computer and lay down in bed by 2:30 a.m. deciding to call it a night so I could hang out with my friend today. Now it's almost six and the tiny things that make up white noise have made tonight a living hell. I dunno what to do. Sadness. 

Ok, so secretly this blog post really isn't about writing. It's me complaining. 

So since I've vented properly, let's get back to the writing, shall we?

I am THIS CLOSE to finishing chapter ten. Just an argument away, almost. And I could have been closer, but I decided to close that file for a little bit and look at what I had for chapter 11. Depressingly little. So I wrote about four to five pages of 11 so that once I'm done with 10 I won't be starting off with a blank page and some poor writing from a year ago that my great aunt mildred could have written (oh dear, I'm kidding. I don't have a great aunt Mildred. But wouldn't it be cool if I did?). So I consider that a triumph. WOOT!

Also, I decided that until I FINISH the manuscript completely (counting prologue and epilogue), I'm not querying any more agents. Seeing the words "partially completed" sounds like a turn off even to me, the amateur writer in college. And I don't want to waste any agent or publisher's time, just to get in the game early. But I'm not gonna lie... it's tempting. 

I was looking up writers' conventions the other day, and some of them have lists of credible agents and publishers that will be there. Took down some names, did some research, resisted the urge to email some of the agents. I did, however, make a list. So I know, at least roughly who I'm sending those wondrously frustrating query letters to. 

Whoa. I'm hungry. Peace OUTTTTTT. 

The Monster (AKA Chapter 10)

I finished editing chapter nine based on the notes of a friend (hard to do with the randomness of it, but I guess finals week took priority, haha) and sent it off to another friend, whose notes will hopefully be more legible (NOTE: despite my anal retentiveness based off of the your/you're mistake, I don't know the difference between whose and who's). 

Once I was done with that, it was almost like a springboard effect had happened, and I jumped into Chapter ten full speed ahead. I was pretty excited, until I'd been at it for almost the whole day and I realized how little I'd done to it. The chapter went from 9 pages to 13 very quickly, but it still feels empty, full of gaping holes, and I really, really don't know what to do about it. 

Remember the conversations I abhor so much? That's what's missing. Two to three intense confrontations may blow it up to 20+ pages. Over 23 and I might go crazy. UGH. It's making Chapter 8 look like a docile baby (ch 8 is the one I wrote, rewrote, and expanded by about ten pages), and that was enough stress in and of itself. 

Maybe I'm blowing this all out of proportion, but really, how the hell am I supposed to know what centuries-old vampires say when they're pissed off? 

I guess I'll just make it up and hope it sounds convincing (pinnacle of writing career right there).

Today was an intense writing day, though. Put chapter nine in the binder, and have officially run out of those little plastic paper holder alternatives to three hole punching each and every sheet of paper... yeah. Those things. I took out my "Advice on Novel Writing" article (AKA writing BIBLE) and plan on rereading it for the first time in a year. That should be exciting and time consuming. (NOTE: The Binder is a huge huge white binder where I store all of my stuff (fresh drafts, old drafts, notes, plans, articles, pictures) in a semi-organized fashion.) 

The thing is that even though I made a LOT of headway, I still feel... well... I feel like a bum. Usually people tell me I'm acting like a bum when I don't feel like it. If I feel like it, something MUST be wrong. I'm getting all sad and lazy, staying in the house instead of chilling with friends. To be quite honest, this summer is getting almost as depressing as last school year which, if you were there, you know, was pretty rough. What do I do to make it better? No car, no bike, little money. 

:( 

I'll just finish the book and THEN have a life. No? Ok, I say we get drunk, because I'm all out of ideas. 

Finally some Progress!

After feeling uber lame for the past week, I finally decided to suck it up and write. Three pages, two hours, and chapter ten is looking less like a train wreck and more like a sunny day. Granted, there are some very difficult conversations coming up, some that my main characters are going to hate so much that I can barely stand to write them. 

Ok, that's a lie. I love doing mean things to my characters, because it usually means retribution in the most violent of ways. 

What really frustrates me in those long conversations is 1) Keeping the reader interested.  alot of information dumping goes on, which may or may not detract from what's going on. 2) The conversations take an unexpected turn nine times out of ten, leaving me staring at my computer screen wondering what on earth just happened. Sometimes fights break out, sometimes people start making out, and sometimes the tension fizzles into nothingness or explodes into an entirely unanticipated plot. It's exhausting, and to be quite honest, I don't really like not knowing what's about to happen in my own book.

Really Kira, you say, just suck it up and write. 

*sigh* I will. Eventually. But for now let me procrastinate with more editing. 

Second point of blog: Two different kinds of series. 

I have to talk about this because I just saw the second episode of True Blood, and, well, let's just say it cut off at a crazy plot-heavy scene. I wanted to punch my computer, and I don't know if I can wait seven days to find out what happened. 

It's pure genius, I think. That's the kind of series it is. Leave-you-hanging-aching-for-more-what-the-hell-just-happened-seriously-when-is-the-next-episode type of series. 

It's made by the same people who pushed back HP6 almost an entire year, I think. Not necessarily out of cruelty (though I do think it's cruel) but out of a consciousness that more people will tune in the more you hold at stake. 

Then there's the nice series, the one like, let's say, charmed. There is (for the most part at least) a nice, clear cut plot in each episode, complete with rising action, climax, falling action, resolution. Grade school teachers would be proud. I like that situation more sometimes, because even though a main plot runs through the heart of the series, the audience/reader still gets a sense of satisfaction out of each and every snippet/episode/book, instead of an adrenaline rush accompanied by week-long (or, since I've mentioned books, YEAR LONG) theories that border on obsessive.

Harry Potter falls under option number two, Everworld falls under option number one. Supernatural is a combination, I think. Depends on the season. 

Kira, you may be thinking, is this relevant at all? 

No, my dear reader. Not one bit. 

(BTW I KNOW I have followers! Would it kill you guys (and anyone else) to leave a comment? I don't think sooooo!)

Book update and other interesting things in Kira's life (or lack thereof)

So, this summer is taking an unexpected turn, and although I'm only a week in, it seems as if my life will, as usual, not be going like I planned it. Thus far, I'm jobless, it's been storming (like, I fear for my life storming), and last night a bug about the size of my thumb crawled across the living room (my bedroom for the summer) floor. My sleep schedule is a complete train wreck, my productivity levels are near zero, and I freaking hate my local gym with an undying passion.

Way to go, Saint Francis. 

Fail, Kira. 

But I have been writing my book, believe it or not. I'm about one page closer to being done with chapter ten than I was when school let out, I've been adding to various other chapters, and I'm missing my self-assigned deadlines left and right (according to the calendar on my computer, I should be working on chapter 12. No go.). 

*sigh*

I blame this all on a depressing lack of coffee shops and a non-functioning bikes. 

I did, however, watch Underworld 3 once more. It's not one of my favorites, but in terms of the supernatural, it's right up my alley. Well developed characters, convincing world, and kick ass action scenes definitely make a fun movie. As a werewolf fanatic, I was impressed with the change from human to lycan, something usually butchered in most movies (i.e. Harry Potter, Blood and Chocolate, New Moon). So that made me happy yesterday. Also, Victor is so delightfully evil. He cracks me up.

Meh. No more updates, except that the book is indeed, still on my mind 24/7. 

That thing, that thing, that thing

I suppose I should let you all know that I skip around. In my novel, and in the series (hopefully this will be a series because I've got more story left in this world). Sometimes I get the urge to write parts of the second book, etc. It's nice, I think, to take a break from this story and think about the future, even though it's true that the plots of the next books will probably change around the more I get to know my characters. 

I've already spotted a problem with my line of thought. Not even worrying about the whole series, I've never stopped and thought about how far the characters would go.

Yes.

Yes, I'm talking about that thing. Rocking the boat, doing the dirty, whatever you wish to call it. Maybe Pride Fest has spurned my sudden questioning about sex and character interaction in general. To a degree I have it thought out, but not with my main couple, which is really starting to rub me the wrong way. 

I'm torn, in a way, and while I'm not trying to bring TOO much of my personal beliefs into the actions of my fictional friends, it's hard for me to be ok with one girl saving herself- I'm sick of that whole virgin ideology, and I'm a firm believer that a girl is worth more than what's between her legs. I respect those who wish to save themselves, but I don't want to project that ideal one way or the other. On the same token, I don't want her to come off as a skank, or as Bill so nicely put it on the season premiere of True Blood, "a lady of the night." 

And more so, I don't want the boy to have been around the block- on this part I'm sure, because he's just not like that. At all. But is he a virgin? Is it important to say whether or not he's had sex, and with whom? 

Even another major character that doesn't even hook up with anyone... do his views on sexuality matter? I don't know how conservative I want everyone to be. 

Sex is becoming a huge issue here. Am I worrying too much? Gar. 

Maybe all my characters should just be in an orgy together, haha. EEEWWWW. 

Crazy stuff, man. Crazy stuff (Pride Fest and other awesome sexy things)

So I went to pride fest yesterday, and it was definitely something I'd call an experience. But wait, I'm getting ahead of myself here. 

Due to some people mistaking "Pride fest" as a celebration of the movie "Lion King," let me clarify. Pride fest is a festival for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender members of the Milwaukee area to come together and celebrate their affinity for... each other. And sex. 

Did I mention sex? 

Well, I know this may seem completely unrelated to Morgantown, however I got a lot of inspiration from the various drag queens and kings (do drag kings exist?), and believe that sometime later in my writing career I'll explain exactly how Pride Fest has influenced my book. 

OK, partially now. Mostly, it was the chaos. It was complete and utter chaos. For my NU peeps, just picture Dance Marathon, but with alcohol (lots and lots of alcohol), twice the people, half the space. Don't forget the horny atmosphere. Everyone is obsessed with showing how much they love each other's faces, souls, bodies, breasts, penises, vaginas, hands... 

By the end of the night, everyone had hooked up and in the quieter areas, couples in the midst of rocking the boat completely dominated their respective territories. Very bestial. Very hot. Very lusty.

Haha, so it definitely influenced Morgantown, and a scene that I plan on putting in one of the upcoming chapters (not telling which, but I'm working on chapter 10. Still.), so be on the lookout for the above atmosphere. I think I'll be extending that particular scene in the hopes that it will be good. 

I hope most of what I write is good, haha. Sometimes that doesn't work so well, but I guess that's the beauty and mystery (frustration and horror) of writing.