Tagged! By Golly

Magic 8

Marcy tagged me for this fun little meme which comes with a few 'rules.'

1. Link back to the originator

2.  Share an excerpt from your current WIP, perhaps something you're struggling with, are stuck on, or just can't "get right."

3.  Ask a question about your excerpt.  It can be something easy such as "What do you think?" or something more in-depth, such as "Can you suggest a better way to word such-and-such," or "How can I make the emotions in this scene more realistic?" My current WIP is currently in revisions so I'm not sure if I have anything I need help with - yet! But, here's the first 200 words and if anyone has any comments/suggestions feel free!

      For a ghost, lying is like a verbal tango. For the length of the dance, they become lovers, concentrating only on their partners, ready to improvise. Swerve. Dip. Graceful.

And slide the knife home.

Marv, the recently deceased, had his moves down pat. His elegant lies interwove through my prodding like sensual dance steps.

But time was running out and this apparition was pissing me off.

Ghosts look as real to me as my living, breathing colleague, Thorne, a transplant from Australia. He stirred and uttered a low curse. Marv’s smile brightened.

“Smallest violin, Di,” Marv said rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. “Compel me, make promises. Come on, you can’t do nothing to me. Not anymore.”

He gestured. “Won’t that mess up your nail polish?”

I forced my hands to relax.

Marv laughed outright and gave an elaborate bow. His green and red plaid vest hugged his trim waist. “Oh, wow,” he deadpanned. “Next you’ll threaten me with ‘you’re a dead man’.”

Thorne gave in and snarled something unintelligible then glanced at a slim woman caught in the act of giving him the eye. With his blond hair and svelte physique, Thorne turned many a gal’s head. But this time, his face made her quicken her steps.

4.  Tag 8 people:

1000^th Monkey

Michael Offutt

David Powers King

Aimee L. Salter

RJRDaydreamer

Rusty Webb

Jenn June

Donna Hole

Have fun!

It is to Laugh (slightly risque)

Joe came across a Harley with a 'for sale' sign on it. The bike was ten years old but in mint condition, shiny without a flaw.

He bought it then asked the seller how he kept the motorcycle is such great shape.

'Well, it's quite simple, really,' said the seller. 'Whenever it's gonna rain, I rub Vaseline on the chrome. That protects it from the rain.'

And he handed Joe a jar of Vaseline.

That night, his girlfriend, Sandra, invited him to meet her parents. Naturally, they take the bike. But just before they enter the house, Sandra stopped him.

'I have to tell you something about my family before we go in. When we eat dinner, we don't talk. In fact, the first person who says anything during dinner has to do the dishes.'

'No problem,' he says. And in they go.

Joe is shocked. In the middle of the living room is a huge stack of dirty dishes. In the kitchen, piled on the countertops are greasy pots and pans. In the corridor, on the stairs, everywhere he looks food-encrusted dinnerware.

They sit down to dinner and, sure enough, no one says a word.

Dinner progressed. Then Joe smirked, leaned over, and kissed Sandra.

Silence. He reached over and fondled her breasts. Still, nobody said a word. So he stood, ripped her clothes off, threw her on the table, and screwed her right there in front of her parents.

His girlfriend is flustered, her dad livid, and her mom horrified as he sits back down. But no one said a word.

He eyed Sandra’s mom. 'She's got a great body,' he thinks. So he grabs the mom, bends her over the dinner table, and has his way with her.

Now his girlfriend is furious and her dad is boiling, but still, total silence.

Into the silent dining room sounds a clap of thunder and it starts to rain. Joe remembers his bike, so he pulls the jar of Vaseline from his pocket....

The father jumped away from the table. “Okay! I'll do the f****** dishes.”

Query Contest on Unicorn Bell

Do you have a completed manuscript? Are you interested in submitting directly to a small publisher?

Well, hold your horses. 

First, you must polish that manuscript to an eye-blinding sparkle. Then compose a query. Not just any query but something to knock that publisher off their feet. Wow them.

Our critique group, Unicorn Bell, is holding a query contest in August.

In the words of my good friend and mentor, Charity Bradford:

We are devoting most of August to queries: how to's, examples, workshops and the query process in general. The last week of August we will have three wonderful guest judges reading all polished queries for FINISHED manuscripts.

Krystal Wade from Curiosity Quills
Nancy Bell from MuseItUp Publishing
Amy Lichtenhan SapphireStar Publishing

If they like what they see, they may request pages and who knows where that may lead you?

There will be more info coming over the next few weeks, but we wanted to give you time to comb through that MS one more time. Maybe even get one more beta reader? Here's what these ladies said they are looking for right now.

Krystal--I love older mc's (18+)! I'd like to see some good dystopian, more male mc's too, and then of course anything scifi/fantasy/paranormal with something new and unusual.

Nancy--MuseItUp is looking for more dark fiction, horror, as we are light in that department. However, romance, historical romance, YA/MG from a male POV that will entice that sector. Of course, we are open to anything that is well written and crafted. We don't publish literary fiction or poetry.

Amy--We're especially interested in contemporary romance and paranormal romance at this time, although we are accepting submissions in all fiction categories.

Head over to UB for more information about small publishers and critiquing. 

I'm What?

It? I’m it?

Brent Wescott has a sense of humor compounded by a wicked streak. He honored me with a shout out, put me with bloggers I admire greatly, then gave me homework. ACK!

And here are his probing questions:

What kind of thing do you prefer to read?

'Thing' as in…? I prefer reading Doritos for subliminal messages. When they stop writing, I go to Baskin Robbins.

Oh, novels? Urban fantasy.

When you were 13, what did you want to do with your life?

That was a heckuva long time ago but I’ll stretch my brain for the info. Either a farmer or an astronomer. I achieved the former.

Mayonnaise or Miracle Whip? Discuss. 

Miracle Whip mostly. Because if calories matter (note question #1) fake mayo is the way to go.

If you could join any group or club, what would it be?

My fan club

What is the last song you listened to?

Voluntarily? Not the Adams Family jingle? ‘Two Black Cadillacs’ by Carrie Underwood.

When you have nothing else to do, what do you do? 

Ruin my brain playing Sudoku

If you could make a difference by boycotting one thing, what would it be?

Drawing a blank here.

Self-Editing: How to Do It Right

There are lots of books out there for writers. Every flavor from grammar, inspirational, and creative tips to pull your novel together.

Bridget McKenna wrote a booklet that gets to the point, excellent for quick reference. And a darn good read. She writes with humor - always a plus with me - and educates without lecturing.

It is worth the price at Amazon. Check it out.

Gotta Love Those Farm Boys

If you make it, they will come.


Here is a cool video from some enterprising young teens. Take a time out and watch.

Fried

Mangled Manuscript Monday

The definition of Summer 2012:

Crispy grass, curled corn, and cracks in the ground wide enough for a horse to fall in.

Hot enough that our lightning bugs decided to quit sparking.

So dry, Froggy took to swimming in the dog pan.

Is it just me or is this the summer of Blah?

It could be worse though. My heart goes out to the folks that have been without power due to storms. 

The Great Drought of the 1930s was much worse. It is how we measure bad weather. “Well, this corn should be tasselin’ but at least it’s not like the summer of ’33 when seed wouldn't even sprout.”

How are you coping this summer?

The Summer of Inspiration

Mangled Manuscript Monday

It is hot. And worse, it is dry. Bugs, dust, and lots of sweating.

It is also reunions, cookouts, camping. Long evenings, early mornings.

In the sweet days of watermelon and the sound of locust buzzing, writing can’t stop. The season draws my attention as well as our house renovations. Regarding the remodeling, we are in a down period; ie the contractor wandered off to do another house while waiting for shipment of my cabinets.

 *he could be tiling my kitchen floor but nooooo, he’s gotta go side another house, grrrrrrrrr*

Okay, I’m back.

Inspiration strikes at the oddest times. During casual conversation with a friend, watching a documentary about wild horses, reading Publishers Marketplace.

Sometimes my fellow writers at Unicorn Bell give me that moment: 

“Light bulb,” - Gru, Despicable Me

Thanks Marcy. Last February, your blog jiggled something loose in my brain.

Does your writing routine change in the summer? What inspired your wip?

Treadmill Worthy

Songs Sunday

This week, I am into the exercise tunes. The kind that get and keep me moving.

Adam Lambert is my flavor of the week with his newest album Trespassing.

The title song has a rich beat with his typical harmonics. And clapping. I don’t what there is about music with rhythmic clapping but it pulls me in like a drug.

Even folks like me who didn’t follow Mr. Lambert’s American Idol saga have heard of him. His rendition of Mad World is absolutely chilling. I could listen to it every day.

And eye candy. *swoon* He is cute as a bug. Too bad he bats for the other team. I can still look though. *BG*

Ain't that the truth.