Category Archives: Novel

Writing Project: Giada

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It’s Saturday night, and once again I’m at home, twiddling my thumbs, wishing I had something to do. That’s not quite true. I have something to do, I’m just not doing it. What I mean to say is that I wish I had somewhere to go. No matter. I need to sit myself down to do some serious writing.

I’ve started another project, which in all honesty is an extension of another, my first and still unpublished book, Son of the Father. The new book is called Giada, after a character I’m pulling from my first book, and expanding upon.

As originally conceived, Giada worked as an escort, which really was a cheap shot at my ex. I wanted to get back at her, so I made her character a prostitute, and to make it even better, I killed her. Unfortunately for me, by the time I did so, I fell in love with my own creation. I have bad taste in women, even fictional one that I create.

The Giada character worked well, she was funny, mischievous, and a great foil for my main character, a priest by the name of Israel Mendoza. The problem was that she didn’t fit the story I was telling. I introduced her in a serious of flashbacks, using her to tell some of Israel’s back story. It took away from the story I wanted to tell, of a bishop finding out he has a grown up son, and having to deal with the fall out from the news, both emotionally and privately, and publicly, as the face of a U.S. Roman Catholic Diocese.

I had to cut her out, but I didn’t want to lose her, and I didn’t want to completely cut out her role in Israel’s life. Instead, I chose to write the back story as a separate piece, to set up the next novel, which will be a rewritten version of Son of the Father, with more emphasis on the son and not a dead prostitute.

Now that I decided to do that, I found that it’s not easy to tell an offshoot story, in this case a prequel, although if published, it will come as the first book of a series. It’s difficult to expand a role that only fit into three chapters of the original incarnation of the story. I’m having to create new characters, as well as creating a new expanded story line.

I’m only at 5000 words at the moment. I need to set a daily word goal, say 2K, and work to meet or exceed that goal. That’s an easy 14k a week goal. I have ample time to write, I just haven’t maximized my time. So that puts my at 45K words by the end of the month, which should put me about halfway through the book.

I need to be done by the end of February, when I will hopefully turn my attention back to the book I wanted to publish last September, Unseen Obsession. I need to come up with a better title than that. I hate that title. I hope to publish that by the summer. All I need is to edit, rewrite, edit some more, find someone to make me a book cover because I’m useless when it comes to visuals, and then edit some more. I’m not panicking. Okay, I am.

I know what needs to be done, I just need to do it. So good night. I have more writing to do tonight.

Wanted: Writer needs writing project

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Today is day three of 2014, and I’ve yet to find the motivation to get back to work on my writing. I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling apathetic about sitting down at the computer to pound out a couple of thousand words on a manuscript, or maybe putting off working on edits or rewrites. Have I given up completely on writing?

I hope this is temporary, and that I’ll find my mojo soon. I’m ready to get back to work, or I should say I’m ready to feel excited about wanting to write. I know I need to sit down and write, but the story I’m working on is a dead-end, again. I don’t like the main characters and I hate where the story is heading. I’ve shelved that project for the time being.

Now I’m left without a project to work on, and I’m feeling guilty about it. I’m thinking about resurrecting my first attempt at a novel, which I wrote as my first NaNoWriMo novel back in 2011. Funny how I can’t let 2011 go.

Son of the Father is about a Catholic Bishop who one day finds out he has a grown up son. At least that’s the premise I started with, but that’s not what I wrote. I want to rewrite the whole book so that I am left with what I originally intended. What’s keeping from starting is knowing that most of the original story will have to be sacrificed in order to create that story.

I’m enamored with one particular story arc, and I’m having a hard time letting it go. Bishop Israel Mendoza, prior to becoming a bishop, is a priest in the employ of the Vatican. He meets a woman in need of help, a prostitute who wants out of her situation. In the course of their interactions, they fall in love.

I love the story because it’s so tragic. Love is a wonderful thing, and there’s something about forbidden love that captivates us. I’m just not sure who it ties in to the narrative as a whole. Perhaps the answer is to spin it off and write it as its own book.

I’ll have to give it some thought before I commit myself to it, but it seems to be a good idea. That way I can take it out of my original story without having to lose it completely.

Rewrite update: I’m still rewriting

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DSC05316 (Photo credit: Fenix_21)

I haven’t written about my work in progress in some time now. The good news is that I’m still plugging away at it. The bad is that I’m still plugging away at it. Shouldn’t I be done with it? The only answer I have is that I’ll be done when I’m done with it.

Right now, I have about 87K words but that will likely increase quite a bit. I’m thinking I’ll end up somewhere in the neighborhood of 100k, give or take a few thousand. I think that’s a good round number to shoot for, don’t you?

Okay, I’ve answered where I am in the writing process, but I haven’t told you what I’m writing. I’m rewriting my NaNo from 2012, trying to expand upon what I wrote back in November, hoping that I am closer to a cohesive narrative. I’ve written out several plot points that have no bearing in the story. I thought they would, but as my first draft took shape they became unimportant, taking up valuable space that could be used to better define the story I am trying to tell.

It’s kinda like a jigsaw puzzle at the moment, but one where I’m throwing pieces out and trying to find room for new pieces, wanting to see how it changes the picture as a whole. I’m pruning and adding, tweaking words here, changing ideas all around, trying to find a better way to say what I’m saying. You know what I’m saying?

It’s hard since I never took a class on book writing. I’ve been writing for almost a year and half and I’ve yet to get to a place where I’m comfortable with my work. But I’m content in the process of creating and writing. I’m pleased with how my rewrites are going. Part of it is that I’m still learning what I’m doing and how to do it. I’m cool with that.

I keep hoping to reach some sort of magically place where I can look at what I’ve written and say “It’s perfect!” But not yet. I know I’m being unreasonable. I understand that I can find myself in a vicious cycle of writing and rewriting and rewriting some more, round and round, chasing perfection as a dog chases its tail, never to catch it. I know at some point I will have to step back and accept that I have done the best that I can and that I will have to let it go.

That’s why I have a few people read for me. I need that input and it’s a valuable resource for me to have. My readers can ask me questions, point me in a direction I need to explore, and help me whip my work into shape. My first drafts have all been read and the one I’m revising is the best one which needs the least amount of work, so that’s why I’m working on this one.

Will I publish? I hope so. That’s my ultimate goal. I know I still have work to do, but as long as I keep plugging away at it, one keystroke at a time, I know I’ll be done. Then all I’ll have to do is hope that you all will be interested in what I’ve committed to paper.

But did I like it?

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9361589It is near three a.m. and I am still awake. Tomorrow, or rather today, is going to be hell to deal with.

But I am awake, and I may or may not write a proper post for today, but I have to get some things out lest I become overly-morose in my private contemplation. You think I write for the fun of it? This is the greatest tool for combating my depression that I have. This and the other blogs that I have. Find them if you dare.

I just finished a book, The Night Circus, and it has put me into a bit of a funk. I’m done with the story and I wasn’t ready for it to end. It didn’t end the way I would have liked. It resolves itself, but it’s still a little too open, and you know there are more stories in that world to be told, but that’s not what has me down. Like any good story, when the book ends, it leaves you with a sense that the story continues, even if you are not privy to it. Maybe, should the author decide to do so, you may be invited to go along on another adventure. I rather she would, but I’m not betting on it.

I don’t want to try to tell you what the story is about. Read it yourself. I’m not going to give a condensed version, or even a review. If you want my opinion, I will tell you that I loved the book and that I’ll read it again and again. It moved me, as all good books seem to do. For me, that’s enough. My personal criteria has been met.

There is no greater gift than to be moved to tears and no better catalyst than a good book. To be moved to joy and to sadness, to laughter and to weeping, crying tears both joyful and mournful, is what I love in a book. I want to be transported out of my life, to journey with the heroes, to suffer and celebrate with them. I want to experience their highs and lows. I want to forget myself and delve into the illusion that I am no longer me, but in the story itself.

That’s where I am. I felt for those characters. They became my friends, even if for only a little while. With all the bad in the world you want to read that maybe someone got to live their happily ever after. Call it wish fulfillment if you want, since I guess that’s what it is.

Maybe I’m just overly emotional because it’s now fifteen after three and I’m tired and I have less control of them when I’m worn out. Of course there’s the fact that I am an emotional person, but I doubt you knew that.

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