The Next Big Thing

Usually I hate talking about my manuscript because I don't really know what I should say, something that the Next Big Blog Blog Challenge helped me with. All I had to do was answer 10 questions about my manuscript and choose 5 bloggers to challenge. Easy and fun! 

I was tagged by the fantastic Karen De Lang who is writing a great sounding story about dragons! I love dragons.

1.      What is the title of your book / WIP?

DWARFED, which also makes a pretty good metaphor for my WIP!

Young adult contemporary. I consider it a coming of age story, but with each new round of edits, it seems like it keeps steadily drifting towards becoming a teen romance novel.

2.     

 Where did the idea of this book come from?

Ready to be really surprised? I don’t think that DWARFED would have even been inspired without the television series, Bones. The Girl in Suite 2103 guest-starred Danny Woodburn. One of the comments Brennen makes to Woodburn’s character about Dwarfs being the power behind the thrown started the wheels turning. An latter episode where the characters of Gordon Gordon and Angela quote Shakespeare provided additional inspiration. I started officially moving Dwarfed out of my head and onto paper during NANOWRIMO 2009, which just happens to be when Bones aired an episode investigating the murder of a dwarf, which I took as a sign from the universe that I was on the right path.

The Taylor Swift song, Fearless, provided additional inspiration.

I added the agriculture angle because that’s the world I know and love.

4. Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I honestly don’t know.  Even though I have a pretty good mental impression of what my characters look like, I haven’t seen any actors that resemble them. The two exceptions to this would be Grace’s Uncle Ray Bob who bears a striking resemblance to Michael Cain. Grace also has a drama teacher who I based heavily on Val Kilmer when he played in The Saint. I wouldn’t object if Gerard Butler was cast in any of the roles.

5. What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

I’m supposed to know what I’m writing about? Why?Here’s the best I can come up with at the moment.

Grace’s entire world gets turned on its ear when her parents pull her out of the Renaissance world she’s always known, forcing her to learn how to survive in a new and very scary world.

6. Is your book published or represented?

Not yet. I’m hoping to start pitching it to agents starting the beginning of September.

7. How long did it take you to write it?

Grace moved into my head during the spring of 2009. I started researching and formulating ideas that summer, and started the actual writing process November 2009.  I’ve been plugging away with it in fits and starts ever since.

8. What other books in your genre would you compare it to?

Oh boy, I’m going to go with anything by Sarah Dessen (boy does that sound conceited, I’m not nearly the writer that Dessen is)Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins, Harmonic Feedback by Tara Kelly.

9. Which authors inspired you to write this book?

Every single one of these authors inspires me in a different way. In addition to the three listed above, I’m going with

·         Robin McKinley (stunning prose)

·         Rick Riordan (engaging characters, research)

·         C.S. Lewis (words can’t express how important Lewis is to my current dream to be an author)

·         Louis L ‘aMour (realisam)

·         Poe (his stories make me shiver)

·         George Lucas (the man came up with the idea of Willow, ‘nuff said)

10. Tell us anything else that might pique our interest in your book.

Grace grew up traveling the Renaissance Faire circuit. One of the side effects of her upbringing and spending so much time promoting the past that when she’s stressed or feeling passionate she tends to lapse into Shakespearean English. 

Grace has red hair, a freckled face, and dreams of becoming an illusionist. She’s stubborn, and passionate, and clever. She’s sixteen years old, and has reached her full height of 4’2”, the result of a genetic condition called Achodroplastic dwarfism. While Grace might be small, she makes If Grace had a superpower it would be the ability to remove the sensation of sadness from others, absorbing it into herself. 

The Five Awesome Fiction Authors I'm Tagging Include:

Melania Tolan

 Elin Gregory

Amanda Fanger

Kate Warren

Write Club

Well I did it, I banged out a 500 word short story (this morning) and emailed it to the people running the Write Club this year. Now all I have to do is sit back and see if it gets selected for head to head challenge.

Wish me luck!

 

Six Sentence Sunday: Fools and Runts 12

This week’s snippet from my young adult WIP, DWARFED, picks up right were last week’s left off. Even though this collection of sentences simply creates a transition point in this scene, I’m quite fond of them. Plus, it gave me an excuse to look at piglet pictures, something I always enjoy :) You can check out the snippets created by some truly gifted authors here.

             “Thanks,” he finally says.

I tuck my hand into my skirt pocket and finger the touch worn coins, listening to them clang together, the sound catching the attention of the piglets. Moving in one giant glob of flesh, they skulk towards me with the same speed a knight would use when sidling up on a sleeping dragon. I lower myself into a crouch, the change in position causing the piglets eyes to widen, but they continue forward.

Holding my breath, I lightly scrape a fingernail across one thing back. The piglet’s chocolate chip eyes roll back in its skull as its entire body quivers and quakes in porcine ecstasy.  

“I never would have guessed that baby piglets would be so cute and cuddly.”

 

One look at you and I was through, my heart switched up on me. -The Band Perry

Friday Fictioneer: 7/27/12

I'm revisting my farmer Ted character that I created a couple Friday's ago. I've grown quite fond of him. This week's photo prompt was provided by Madison Woods. Other great writers participating in this week's Friday Fictioneers can be found right here.

Wait and See
127 Words

Storm clouds gathered intensity in the sky as Ted detached the hose from the tap. His wife moved beside him as the first fat drops splattered on the dusty ground.

            “Will this help,” she quietly asked.

            Ted thought about the hand-deep crevices he’d found in the corn field, the fruitless apple blossoms, and how he’d already fed a considerable amount hay to the cattle, and unopened pile of bills lying on the table, before taking his wife’s hand. “I don’t know. We’ll just have to wait and see.”  He drew her off the porch. “But we might as well it.”

            In less time than it takes a heart to beat they were soaking wet as the laughed, splashed, and danced in the rain, celebrating the perfect moment.

Six Sentence Sunday: Fools and Runts 11

I don't know about the rest of you, but July seems to be one wildly busy week after another, which is why I'm still in the process of responding to comment made on the SSS snippet I posted last week. Being busy is good, but I'm ready for things to slow down a bit.

This weeks snippet is from my YA manuscript, DWARFED. It picks up where last week's snippet ended. It's also the part where Grace and I are the most alike. We both have a well honed forgive but never forget attitude.

             I want to make him squirm, he should have to pay for using that ugly word and making me bleed, as far as I’m concerned, in matters of revenge, figurative blood is every bit as satisfying as the real deal.

            Still, he looks like he genuinely regrets his first words, and what he’d just said might be one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard, being compared to moonlight is flattering, almost Shakespearean, though Luke lacked the bard’s styles, and I’ve never been vengeful.

“I suppose,” I say slowly, choosing my words with care, “you just experienced this was one of those open mouth and insert foot kind of moments that people are always talking about.”

            Luke’s mouth quirks into a small smile.

            “I've had a few moments like that,” I continue, “I guess you’re allowed to have one or two as well.” No sooner were the words out of my mouth when I start feeling the ragged edges of my soul starting to knit together.

            Luke studies my face.

You're thoughts and opinons are always appreciated. I adore feedback when it comes to my writing. Thanks

Check out the other amazing writers participating in Six Sentence Sunday right here.

Friday Fictioneers: 7/20/12

Boo

113 words

Ted advanced towards the grapevine tepee between the tool shed and the corner of the barn. He was struck with the hair raising sensation something lurked behind those vines. He could’ve sworn that the vines had moved and shifted without the benefit of any breeze.  It was silly. Still, the only way he would relax was removing the blasted vines.

                He glanced at his dog, Hap, who stared, fascinated, at the vines.

                “Okay,” he told the dog, “let’s get this over with.”

                The hedge clippers had barely completed the first cut when vines shook violently, as if caught in the middle of a tempest, causing both Ted an Hap to leap backwards, as fourteen fuzzy ducklings burst from the interior of the viney shelter and scrambled towards the barn.

Any and all comments and criticisms will be appreciated. To read some truly incredible flash fiction you should check out the other Friday Fictioneers.

Six Sentence Sunday: Fools and Runts 10

Another Sunday, which means another six sentence Sunday snippet from my YA manuscript, DWARFED. Any comments and criticisms will be both appreciated and given due consideration. Thanks!

Other authors participating in this weeks SSS can be found here.

             I bit my lip as curiosity mixed with fury and frustration. A heartbeat ago the only thing I wanted to focus on was my desire to murder Luke, but now … “continue.”

Looking embarrassed, Luke shrugged and reached over to scratch the sow behind her ear, the action causing the enormous pig shivered with ecstasy. “I don’t know,” he mutters, “I guess it has something to do with the fact that you’re not afraid to shine, but not with the blinding intensity of sunlight, that’s why I said moonlight. You’re so cool and confident that I guess it’s easy to sometimes forget you’re a dwarf.”

Torn, I peer up at him through my lashes.

One of my favorite pictures, which I took while in the middle of our hayfield.

 

Friday Fictioneers: 7/13/12 Round 2

No sooner do I get something posted for this week's Friday Fictioneers prompt, when another idea slams into me. I like this one a little better, but I decided to leave both posted. Any and all comments and criticisms will be appreciated and considered. Thanks.

To read some incredible bits of flash fiction, you need to visit this page.

The prompt, courtesy Madison Woods.

 

Shouldering On
  106 words

Ted paused, stealing a moment to admire the bird swooping and soaring above his head, gliding from one thermal to another as it circled the property.  The breathtaking beauty of its flight striking counterpoint to its appearance before it settled on the limb of the dying cottonwood. The buzzard folded his wings and turned his head, meeting Ted’s eye, issuing a silent promise. After a moments reflection, Ted shouldered the sack of corn. He’s a farmer, ignoring harbingers of dying crops, broken machinery, low sale prices, and high taxes is just part of his job description. Right now, the cows needed to be fed.

If you're interested, the link to the first story I posted can be found here.

Friday Fictioneers: 7-13-12

This week’s photo prompt, courtesy of Madison Woods. Additional Fictioneers can be found here.

 

Regular Visitor

Everyone thinks of the bird as a kind of a rock star. Each morning, it flies over town and perches on the branches of the dead cottonwood tree located in the center of the old graveyard. All day it rests there, barely moving, watching the visitors, not leaving until the sun starts slithering beneath the horizon. Most believe the bird was a pet, it’s daily pilgrimage a sign of the grief it feels for losing its master, though no one knows who that might be. Not me. I know the bird’s true purpose.

 In a burst of creativity, I ended up writing a second story for this prompt as well. If you want, you can read it here.

Six Sentence Sunday: Fools and Runts 9

It's Sunday again, which means it's Six Sentence Sunday! I can't believe it's the second week Sunday of July already. I hope everyone made it through both the American and Canadian celebrations.

You guys were very insightful when it came to Grace and Luke last week. I was very impressed. This week's snippet picks up where last week's ended. The first sentence was actually the last line in Grace's dialogue. If you didn't get a chance to read it, you can check it out right here.

            "I'm 4’4”.

            Luke tugs his ball cap off, runs his fingers through his thick hair, before settling the cap back on his head. “There’s something about you,” he says thoughtfully, “that in a weird kind of way reminds me of Etna.”

             “I remind you of Aunt Etna,” I squeak.

            “The two of you have so much personality it shadows everything else. Etna is like this really big slow moving storm cloud that blots out the sun for hours, you know, the kind that turns the air green and you just know the storm is going to rage for hours, shredding everything that crosses its path. You remind me off … moonlight.”

Any and all comments/criticisams will be appriciated.

You should check out the other participants great samples this week, you'll be glad you did. The links leading to their blogs can be found at the official Six Sentence Sunday website.

Thank a Farmer

How much do you know about the food you’re putting in your refrigerator? Where did it come from? How was it grown? How many hours of back breaking work does it represent?  What would you do if it weren’t available?

Every single day, the farmers and ranchers responsible for putting food on your table face an increasing set of obstacles. Not only do they have to worry about the rising cost of livestock and food production, they’re also faced with contentious consumers, inconsistent weather, animal rights organization, financial strain, celebrities with big mouths and little sense, and a million other things that make life difficult.

The thing that no one ever thinks about is what would happen if the farmer/ranchers suddenly did the obvious thing, if they finally said they’d had it with all the problems and threw in the towel and stopped farming. How you would you feed your family?

The next time you want to complain about the tractor that’s slowing your commute, or the fact that the food prices have gone up a little, you should curb the urge and find seek out a member of the agriculture world and thank them for all their hard work and perseverance. Your gratitude could be what inspires them to keep working and making sure you get enough to eat.

Friday Fictioneers 7/6/12

My mother rolled her eyes and said the realtor saw me coming. My father just shook his head and muttered something about how he always knew I was crazy. My younger brother took one look at the photo of the small lot I’d purchased, with is scruffy grass, lack of trees, and crumbling building, and proceeded to laugh and laugh. I didn’t care what they thought. To me, that tiny piece of land represented freedom, solitude, and a brand new start, the very things I needed in order to put the past behind me.

 

This week's photo prompt courtesy of Madison Woods

Check out the other great writers participating in this week's Friday Fictioneers here! You'll be glad you did!

Six Sentence Sunday VIII

Yikes, I was so busy this weekend, we just had two foals born in the past 24 hours, I completely forgot about this weeks Six Sentence Sunday. Better a little late than not at all, eh! This week's picks up right where last week's left off. I'm not completely sure about the dialouge in this section, and may be rewriting it later. Thanks for stopping by!

Luke shuffles his feet, and I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Grace, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I forgot about your size.”

            “You forgot? Pray tell, how you could forget? I’m standing right in front of you!”