~ * ~ Rebecca Dupree Fiction ~ * ~
My blog through the wonderful world of writing, submitting, and publishing. Sometimes I make pretty pictures.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Stories can be so hard to GET STARTED!!!!
Today I really tried to start working on my latest story. I sat down at my computer and opened the four paragraphs I already wrote.
TOTAL CRAP!!!
I have no idea how I'm going to jump into this story. Usually I start writing at the beginning and work until I get stuck. Then I skip ahead to the "good parts" and write those, usually to the end of the tale. Then I go back and start reading. I edit as I go, then I start to write again. I have a better idea of how I want the middle to go. This time, I really don't have any "parts" to the story. I have a plot and characters. I know the "call to adventure" and everything... I just can't start writing. Hopefully, by tonight, I will be over this problem and will be happily typing away.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
New Stuff
I
started another story tonight. I don’t
have many words down, but it’s something.
After I completed my last piece of work, I needed a break. Well, I got it in the form of a super busy
week at work. Tonight I sat down, put
the week behind me, and started writing again. Even if the prose sounds bad, it felt
great. I’d love it no matter what. It’s the start of something new and
fresh.
I finished about four paragraphs. I guess you could say I'm ahead of the game!
Monday, September 3, 2012
Three is finished!
I put this cartoon at the top of my blog today for a simple reason. I finished my story yesterday! So, as of now, with just a bit of reviewing aside, Three is ready for my short story collection. Of course, in order to accomplish this feat, I had to have some time alone. My husband was nice enough to take all three of the kids grocery shopping so I could finish. It was very odd to be alone... in my house.... during the day.
Do I enjoy solitude? Sometimes. I enjoy it more when I really accomplish something with my time. Yesterday, I did. Score one for me!
Now, time to start working on my next story.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Characters
Do you put extra effort into making your characters
interesting?
One of the best compliments an author can here is “Wow, you
have such vivid characters! I feel like
I know them. I was so sad when the story
was finished, I want to know what happens to them after they got married/ saved
the world / found the treasure.”
I have received this kind of compliment on two different
occasions. Once, a person was just
raving about everything I did. “I love
your story! Your characters are
amazing! Why aren’t you on the New York
Times best sellers list?” That felt
good. The second time someone
complimented the people in my story the person said this: “Well, your story
sucked, but at least your characters weren’t flat.”
Ouch. But hey, you
gotta take compliments as they come.
It can be a hard thing to make well rounded people come up
from the pages. Sure, in my imagination,
everyone I write about is really cool and complex. The male hero of the last story I wrote is a
perfect example. He played with dolls
until he was a teenager, added Frank’s Red Hot Sauce to everything he ate, and
really enjoyed watching Irish step dancing.
The challenge is to sneak in this information. I am mostly a short story writer. How can I work all the wonderful quirks into
20,000 words or less? Sometimes it is a
hard thing to do even in a novel. One of
the main criticisms of Twilight was that Bella had no hobbies except cooking
for her father and loving Edward. How
hard would it have been for the author to sneak in something to round out her
main female character just a little bit?
As in, “Bella really liked bird
watching and knitting, but now that Edward was gone, she couldn’t concentrate
on either activity.”
I’m not being critical to Stephenie Myer. Heck, she’s a billionaire, and I’m still
working on my first stories. But I do
make my point. Characters are people
too. They have their warts and their
faults, their good sides and their weakness.
They have hobbies and interests.
Just because something is going on in their life (AKA: whatever you are
writing about, also known as the story), they are still the person they were
yesterday. A mature writer will realize
his hero can be a jerk and his villain will have a fondness for small, furry
animals. Nobody is all good or all
evil. When you write your characters,
you need to remember that bit of wisdom.
You can also take that as tough men drink wine coolers, little girls in
tutus play zombie killer, and the uptight school teacher has pierced nipples.
I once heard that a writer should write out entire family
trees and back stories for their characters.
Then they should discard it and start writing their stories. To me, that’s a lot of unnecessary work. My trick for writing well-rounded
people: take your character and assign
it three odd personality quirks. The
housewife will like to skydive, paint her toenails black, and she runs three
miles in the morning. The baker will
hate the taste of chocolate, takes 40 minute showers, and never celebrate his
birthday. They don’t all have to be
contradictions, just specific odd things about the character you are working
with. The goal is not to add these tiny
bits of information into the story, just to have it in the back of your
mind. It’s quicker than writing character bios, but
same idea.
So write those well rounded characters. Write about that darling little girl who
kills her parents! Write about that gang
of teenagers who feed homeless dogs! Heck, write about grandmothers who knit
sweaters for all I care.
Just make sure they are listing to Death Metal when they are
doing it.
Picture credit, themetapicture.com
Monday, August 27, 2012
Pinatas and Pigs
It’s been a busy last two weeks. I have been faithful to my writing
obligations. I have been working on my short story collection, Almost Midnight, almost daily. I have been re-writing the weaker stories and
editing the good ones. This will truly
be my first e-book. I am super excited
about getting it out into the world. I
am hoping to have a Christmas time release date. But a writer does not live on words
alone. I have been busy in other parts
of my life too.
This is a piñata. I
never knew I had a talent for making them, but I guess I do. My oldest son turned 11 at the end of
August. His birthday party was done in a
zombie theme. We found great party
plates and I got some really cool stuff for the goodie bags, but I couldn’t
find a piñata anywhere! Ok, ok, I found
a VERY nifty one on etsy, but it was over $80.00. Piñatas are a big thing at my
house, so it was my job as mommy and chief party planner to make one. I think I did a good job.
Here is my daughter taking a whack at it. It held up pretty well to the kids bashing it
to little bits.
In other news, we also got two pet guinea pigs. Desmond and Gizmo are their names. They are super fun and were easy to
tame. Only problem we’ve had so far is
our dog wants to eat them. Other than
that, they are a perfect fit into our little family.
So that’s about it for tonight. I will be writing again on Thursday. I don’t know if anyone else has started to
feel it, but fall is coming to our little corner of the world. Tonight is my first night of my “back to the
grind” schedule. The
kids have been talking about Halloween.
Our pool will be closed this week.
It’s bittersweet. I do love
summer, but I am so busy that writing almost takes a backseat. I have more time in the fall even if I’m
working more and the kids have school. And more time to write is always a good
thing.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
The House at the End of the Road
The road wasn't on the map, but somehow
they always find their way to my house when it’s time.
She came in the morning. I was on the porch, eating my breakfast of
pancakes and tea. When her car drove up
the road, I immediately smiled to myself.
Her look of confusion was exactly the same as all the others.
The engine stopped when she pulled into
my driveway. Slowly, she got out, and
looked around. I could tell she had no
idea where she was.
“Hello there, can I help you with
something?” I asked her while hobbling
down the porch steps. Sometimes they
knew why they were here and sometimes they didn’t.
She didn’t reply. She was trying to get a signal on her cell
phone. I wanted to inform her it
wouldn’t be any use to her here, but instead I repeated my greeting.
She finally acknowledged me. “Can you help me? Somehow I got lost. Something is happening that is very important
but…”
She trailed off. I felt sorry for her. I feel sorry for anyone who finds their
selves at my doorstep. Her long blond
hair blew around her in the morning breeze.
She was young, maybe eighteen or nineteen. Either way, she hadn’t been driving very
long. It was easy to get lost.
I spoke gently to her. “Come, sit with me, and we’ll figure out how
to get you out of here.”
She hesitated. I laughed at her watchfulness. She would be a hard one to trick.
“Come on,” I told her. “I am an old gentleman, who wouldn’t even
hurt a fly, much less a pretty young thing like you. Besides, it was you who wandered on to my
property.”
“I guess you’re right,” she said, reluctantly.
“Of course I am. Come have some tea with me. I’ll help you find your way again. Do you have your map?”
“Map?” she asked. “I have my cell phone. It has a GPS on it, if I could just get
service!” With that, she thrust her arm
up into the air, waving around that little contraption as if it could save her
life.
“No service out here,” I told her. “You might as well be signaling God. Come on.
Grab your map.”
I turned back to the house. I knew she would follow me. They always did.
By the time I had sat back down at the
table and poured her a cup of tea, she had rushed up on the porch behind
me. She grasped the map in her hands.
I gestured to the chair. “Sit down.
Drink some tea. Tell me what’s
wrong.”
She plopped down in the chair across
from me. “Ok, I don’t know what is happening,
but I need help. Something is going on…
something bad. I am lost. Somehow I ended up on this road. I need to get home right away.”
“Why?
Do you remember?” I asked her.
She paused. “I can’t.”
I nodded. “That’s ok.
Lots of people forget things.”
“And you want to know what else is
odd? I have this map on my front seat, like
you said I would, and I can’t even remember how it got there! It’s a map of my home town, but it’s strange,
like it was made just for me! See?”
She pushed the map across the table.
“It’s nice,” I offered.
“But look! My house is identified on the map. It says ‘my house’ and it was printed right
when the map was printed! Nobody wrote
that in with a pen!
I shrugged. “You can print anything you want nowadays.”
She dragged it across the table and
looked at it. “But why would I ever need
a map of my hometown? I live there.”
“Well, you’re lost now, aren’t you? Have a drink of tea and let’s look at the map
together.”
“Where am I? I mean, what’s your address?” Hailey asked.
“Why is that important?”
“So I know where I am.”
I shrugged. “My road isn’t on this map.”
“You’re not helping me much.”
“What is so important about going home?”
“I don’t know.” I watched her try to remember what
happened. “Someone needs me.”
“Who?”
“My brother. And my mother, I think. I really can’t remember right now. I need to get help. I can’t even remember what I’m doing. I need a doctor.” She paused.
It was coming back to her now. “Maybe
there was an accident.” She shook her
head, as if trying to remember.
“You’re right. There was an accident,” I told her. “This morning, driving to school, there was a
truck. It didn’t even see you pull out
from that side street.”
She remembered and the horror of the
situation terrified her. “No!”
“I’m sorry, Hailey.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Now, don’t be afraid. I told you I was here to help you. And I will.
Here’s the deal. If you want to
get home, all you have to do is get in your car and drive away. Use your
map. It will help.”
“What about mom? And my brother, Trey?”
“Well, I’m sorry to tell you,
Hailey. They’re going to die.”
“No!
How can I save them?”
“Well, if you want to save them, you
can. All you have to do is call to them, and they’ll come. They’re wandering around in the woods right
as we speak.” I paused to take a sip of my tea.
“Of course, it’s going to cost you.
If I let you drive away with your family, I want your soul. You can have it as long as you live, but when
you die, it’s mine.”
Faint voices could be heard in the background.
Hailey stood up. “That’s them!
I can hear them!”
I waved my hand over her tea. “They’re ok.
They’re better than fine.
A-ok. Drink your tea. Take a moment to think about what you want to
do.”
“I want my family and I want to leave!”
“Well, if that’s what you want to do… go
ahead. Just know your soul is mine when
you die.”
Hailey sized me up. I realize there was something different about
this one. She had a lack of fear in her
eyes. She was brave. And, really, she was such a cutie. She picked the map up off the table and tore
it in half.
“Forget it. No deal.
I’m leaving with my mother and my brother. You cannot have my family. You cannot have my soul. It is mine. I am not giving it to you.”
She kicked the table. What was left of my breakfast spilled all
over. Her mug of tea, which I so
carefully poured, shattered to the ground.
“Now look what you did,” I told
her. “Ruined my breakfast and made a
fine mess for me to clean up! Oh, well.” I made a big show of sighing and shrugging. “You’re free.
Your mom and Trey are waiting for you in the car.”
Her head swiveled around. Her mother and brother were waiting in the
car. Trey smiled and waved.
She turned her attention back on
me. “Are you the devil?” she asked.
I stuck out my hand for her to
shake. “Call me Damien. The devil is more of a job description.”
She shook my hand with a powerful
grip. “Am I really free to go?”
I nodded. “Once you ripped the map up, I become
powerless.”
“No tricks?”
“No tricks. I promise.
Go on with you now. I have a mess
to clean up and you have reality to get back to. Good luck with your recovery.”
“Recovery?”
“You think you just found this road by
accident?”
“No, but…”
“All three of you are on the brink of
death. You’ll survive. Long recovery, though.”
Hailey nodded. She walked down the steps to her car, then
paused and turned around. “Sorry you
didn’t get the souls you wanted.”
“Hailey, I’m a very old man who will
live forever. I have plenty of souls
already, and I will trick people out of plenty more. You’re a good kid. Have a great life. Come visit me after you die.”
Her eyes got large. I had to laugh at her again.
“Not to join my eternal soul collection. Just to share a cup of tea.”
“Will do, Damien. See you later.”
She jumped into her car. I stood on the porch and waved as they drove
away.
I started to clean up the mess. I picked up the ripped map and balled it into
garbage. It wasn’t destroying the map
that made her powerful. It was the tea,
or lack of it, I should say. Silly
girl. If she would have drunk her tea
like I asked her too, she wouldn’t be driving away. She would have had to make a choice. Oh well.
When she dies, I hope she comes back to share a cup with me. Maybe she’ll bring her family along too.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Cleaning Up My Head
So today is my first “super serious” day back in the writing
game. I say this because last weekend I
had a blast at my family BBQ, so no writing got done. Yesterday I did write, but not as much as I
wanted to accomplish due to my son’s piano lesson. Today, I have totally un-interrupted writing
time.
So what am I doing? I’m
basically cleaning up my head of all the great scraps of ideas that are running
around inside. I have a few un-finished
pieces of work out there. I want to be
able to complete them. I don’t like
leaving things unfinished. If I have a
great idea for a story—I mean a really awesome idea—I will eventually get
around to using it. It might take me
years, but I do usually end up incorporating it into my body of work.
On the TO DO list today:
1-
Finish writing this blog entry.
2-
Work on House, my collection of short stories
based on each room of a house.
3-
Take stalk of what I have published. Sort out what I want to publish on my blog
and what I would like to see in print.
4-
Read what I have done so far on my novel. Make notes.
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