"Focus on the Good, and Fight for That": a #HoldOnToTheLight post

.As I said in my previous post, there's been a lot of Stuff going on for me lately. Enough for me to have a personal investment in this initiative, even though this is nonetheless neither the place or time for me to discuss particulars. But this topic is important. The Mental Wellness for Writers panel at ConCarolinas this June was heartfelt, honest, raw, and hands down, my favourite one this year. And out of respect for all who participated and shared, it's not one I'll ever take notes at.

Timing's a funny thing, though. I had recently written this scene during revisions to my novel, SIGN OF THE STAR, which will be on submission soon. And it felt important to share.

Background: A princess with healing powers who escaped murder as a child must choose between being the healer she wants to be and the country that needs her. When she encounters a fugitive nobleman seeking the lost princess, circumstances force them to travel together, and she learns that guarding her secret also means guarding her heart. At one point the two are kidnapped, but before they can escape, the bandits are attacked by a warring group. As a servant of the Land, Janni must deal with.the aftermath—and its consequences.

*          *          *

Lingering tendrils of clouds, violet-edged with the last of sunset, curled about distant peaks, clinging to them like smoke capped a fire.

My stomach turned. I tasted bile. Grimacing, I glanced away.

“Are you all right?” Concern tinged Brennant’s voice, as it had since we left Karovar.

I ignored him and focused on the road ahead, pressing onward. Shoving away thoughts of the pyre smoke’s stench, of copper and musk, acrid and sweet.

“We should stop before it gets any darker.”

Hmph. Likely Hush would have purred her agreement, but the puma had already gone off to hunt. I kept walking.

Away from the ashes of our work. The grim task I’d suggested, and now wished I could forget. Days had passed since we’d left Baesh, and yet the mindless slaughter still ate at me.
The morning after the battle, building the pyre had consumed the rest of the daylight. None of the dead had been less than half the chief's massive size, and all were far too heavy to drag on my own. Brennant saw my struggle with a corpse and rushed to help me, but then Baesh cursed and sent me into the woods to gather deadfall instead. And when we were ready, both men looked at me to speak.

I opened my mouth—and faltered. This was no Deathswen ritual, where the names of the newly dead were spoken to honour their memory. There were no loved ones to mourn their passing, no scribes to log their fates.

There was only me.

“We stand before the fallen,” I said, grasping for what words I could find. “Soldiers and captives, worthy and wicked. As we release them from the Land into the sky, may their souls find peace.” Spreading my hands, unable I looked at Brennant for help.

He met my gaze with his own, gave a grim approving nod. “May their souls find peace.”

Baesh, torch in hand, set his jaw. “Aye.” He lifted the flame high. “May their souls find peace.”

With that, he set the pyre alight.

The bodies burned until dawn. None of us slept until noon.

Brennant and I stayed another night at the clearing, too heartsore and worn to resume the journey at once. At least, that’s how I’d felt. The next morning, Baesh had taken us as far as the northern Karish border, where the wilds and some semblance of a road resumed at last.

And I still couldn’t shake the ghastly scene, that cloying reek of the dead, from my mind.

So on I walked.

“Janni.” He sped up and grabbed my wrist.

I jerked it away. “Scorch it, Brennant. What do you want?”

“It’s been four days since we left Karovar, and you’ve barely spoken.” There was raw hurt in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter. Come along.” I frowned at the road ahead. Maybe we could make it as far as the next mountain before full dark—

“Night falls quickly around here. You should have noticed by now.” He spread out his cloak, all he had left of the things he’d bartered from Derva. Everything else had been lost when we were kidnapped.

“What are you doing? We have to keep moving.”

Had to get to the vision-lady and her people before anyone else suffered.

He crossed his arms. “No.”

“Then catch up with me tomorrow.” I strode away.

Brennant snorted. “Fine,” he called. “Clearly you’re too foolish to listen to your escort. More proof that Sordinak made me go with you to protect you from yourself.”

That halted me in my tracks. How dare he.

“I have been summoned, Brennant. I have to get there, and soon. There’s nothing foolish about that—”

He threw up his hands. “There is when you won’t listen to reason! How can you help the woman if you’re injured—or worse, dead?”

“If I don’t hurry, who knows what else will happen?”

“We’re going as fast as we can safely. That’s enough—”

“It’s my fault they died.”

There. I finally said it. The truth I’d been holding in since the pyre, since the attack. I collapsed to my knees, my pack hitting the ground with a thud.

Brennant was on his feet and at my side at once. “What do you mean?”

“I keep seeing the bodies. The blood. The pyre. Every time I close my eyes.” I stifled a sob. “And I’m the reason for it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Everyone who died in the battle perished because of me.” I sniffed. “The soldiers. The prisoners. Even Baesh’s men. If he’d paid more attention to them instead of protecting me, they wouldn’t have betrayed him. And all of them paid the price. All so I could live.”

His lips thinned. “That’s where you’re wrong.” Crouching, he took my hand, and as he stroked the palm with his thumb, for once I didn’t flinch. “What the men did isn’t your fault. It’s theirs.”

Bitter and hot, the tears I’d held back for five nights finally broke free. “But—”

“No. They were criminals and traitors. That raid happened so easily, it’s obvious they were colluding with the Korish.” He reached out and gently touched the spot between my shoulder blades, flooding me with warmth. “Besides, think of the good you’ve done. You healed the barkeep’s son. Baesh, too. And if not for you, Elasa’s daughter might have died.”

“That doesn’t matter. All that death—” I choked back another sob.

“You can’t blame yourself.” Shifting, Brennant took both my hands now and squeezed. “The Land has its reasons for all things. We have to focus on the good, and fight for that.”

I bit my lip. The words were a platitude he’d probably picked up in the priesthood, but Zira had often said the same over the years. I never quite understood; I was a healer, not a fighter.

But maybe that’s what they meant. I could help people. That’s all that mattered, and why I’d made my choice.

Releasing a ragged sigh, I squeezed back. Shivered at his intent gaze, and looked to the distant peaks, where the clouds had scattered. “So what should I do, then?”

“As you said, we’ll keep moving forward.” Brennant helped me to my feet. “But first, let’s get some rest.”

*          *          *

About the campaign:

#HoldOnToTheLight is a blog campaign encompassing blog posts by fantasy and science fiction authors around the world in an effort to raise awareness around treatment for depression, suicide prevention, domestic violence intervention, PTSD initiatives, bullying prevention and other mental health-related issues. We believe fandom should be supportive, welcoming and inclusive, in the long tradition of fandom taking care of its own. We encourage readers and fans to seek the help they or their loved ones need without shame or embarrassment.

Please consider donating to or volunteering for organizations dedicated to treatment and prevention such as: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Home for the Warriors (PTSD), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Canadian Mental Health Association, MIND (UK), SANE (UK), BeyondBlue (Australia), To Write Love On Her Arms and the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.

To find out more about #HoldOnToTheLight, find a list of participating authors, or reach a media contact, go to the #HoldOntoTheLight Facebook group; or, check out the website or Facebook page.

The Case of the Mystery iPod

This is just a quick note to say that yes, I am well aware that I haven't updated my blog in weeks.  Mostly, this is because I have been revising like mad because hey, SIWC 2012 starts on Thursday. (Okay, and I paused for a breather, and I have another WIP that I'veplotted in earnest in preparation for NaNoWriMo. But mostly the revising thing.) To be perfectly honest, as someone not much published yet, I think my focus needs to be on my work, and this blog is fun, but it can wait right now. There's a novel to be polished.

I still have ConCarolinas 2012 notes.

This is going to be the running joke, isn't it?

Regardless, I still think the notes are worth sharing. One of the nice things about my belatedness is that it often brings back fond memories of SIWC and ConCarolinas long after the fact.

So I'll be back soon with notes from both ConCarolinas and SIWC, but no promises as to when.

In the meantime: here's an interesting writing prompt for you.

See that beat-up iPod in the photo? The college where I work had a garage sale on Wednesday. Some of the things sold include items turned into Security but not claimed after a year. I scored that for five bucks. People were dubious about whether it would work, especially since the top panel (not pictured) is missing. But I took it home, plugged it into an i-charger (yay ubiquity) and sure enough, it works just fine

Sure, I could wipe it and use it as a spare, but I don't need a spare, not right now. But here's the thing: it still had all of the former owner's music loaded onto it.

What is that music? What does it tell me about the original owner?

This sort of thing definitely gets my creative juices flowing. Tell me, what do you think? Who was this guy or girl? What sort of playlist was it? What if the person I assume it is by profiling the playlist is nothing like I think?

Have fun, kids. See you on the other side of SIWC 2012.

In the meantime, it should be noted, however belatedly, that Charlie Holmberg was kind enough to interview me for the "Someday Stars" feature of her blog at the end of August. Want to know what I'm up to? There you go. The only update to that is these revisions I'm working on, when in the interview I state that SotS is complete. I am so grateful for my beta-readers, who it must be noted are *awesome*.

The Importance of Taking a Break

My main characters were fighting last week.

The argument shouldn't have taken that long. It wasn't even a single scene; just complete rewrites to part of a scene, to reinforce and clarify one of the novel's themes. But whenever I tried to work on it, I kept getting distracted. Or I'd be on the verge of something, only to run out of time (usually, because my lunch break was over or I had to go to bed. Such is life). By Friday, I was worn from the week and fed up.

So what did I do? Be responsible, and sleep on it? Try to work on another project? Maybe push my way through it, in hopes that I'd finally finish?

Nah, I did what any good self-respecting geek would do: I totally ... uh, geeked out.

Friday night the hubby and I caught The Avengers. (A must-see. Seriously.) Then Saturday afternoon was Free Comic Book Day, where we hit up a few shops to sample their wares. (The awesome thing about FCBD is that the comic shops usually have sales, too. Very worth it.) And to top it all off, early Saturday evening we caught a local, blood-spewing production of Evil Dead: The Musical. (We sat in the splatter zone. To be perfectly honest, I was a little disappointed by this one. Not enough red in the blood, so my shirt came out looking like I'd been drenched in pink Kool-Aid. And I was told it would wash out ... oh well, glad I took my friend's advice and wore a shirt I didn't care about. Much.)

The point is, I took a break.

If you do a search for "The Importance of Taking Breaks", you'll find plenty of articles, including a few about writing. Boiled down, they all say what I sometimes forget: that we can't stay focused on a single thing all the time. We need to step away from what we're working on, because if we don't, we can go crazy. Whether it's a hike in the woods, a round at the gym, drinks with friends, or even just doing something else that you love, that mental vacation is important. It gets our brains working in other ways. It allows the part of us that was focused on finishing that story rest for awhile.

...Aaand I just realized that I'm accidentally continuing my theme of When "Butt In Chair" Doesn't Apply here, but it's true. Yes, working on your project is important. That story needs you as much as you need it. But the story needs to breathe, too.

So what happened after my geek-out? Well, my hubby spared me the Joss Whedon movie I didn't want to see (given that I'm not a horror fan), and went to watch Cabin in the Woods with a friend. I was alone in the house. Peace and quiet. I re-opened the story.

And suddenly, it all came together.

Amazing what taking a break can do!

So, what about you? How do you take breaks from writing? What fuels your creative energies?

Originally posted at Amwriting.org

About Those Goals ... (March Madness Check-In, Day 26)

I couldn’t help but recall Mother’s warning. “Never mind what you intend, Janni,” she’d cautioned. “A journeyer’s path is neither clear nor straight, and the Land may have other plans. You cannot know where you’ll end up.”

"I tink I can

I tink I can

I tink I can"

Welcome to the second day of the very last week of March WIP Madness! Just five more days until the month comes to a close. Can you believe it?

And what a month it's been! Ups, downs, challenges, the unexpected ... and of course, the goals we started out with. What did you set for yourself? What did you intend to accomplish?

Now for the tough question: What have you actually done?

... Okay, deep breaths. Relax, I mean you no harm.

The truth is, I'm a big believer in the idea that if something hasn't gone as planned, then that's the way things were supposed to happen. I'm not talking about the unexpected change of plans like I discussed last week. I mean on the larger scale. Maybe a story isn't ready to be written. Maybe there's more work to be done before you can even think of that other goal on the list. Maybe you need to encounter or read or watch just the right thing to do your work justice. Or maybe something else of equal importance has to happen first.

My point is, we shouldn't beat ourselves up about it if we haven't been making our goals. The fact that we have goals, that we signed up for this month of Madness in the first place, means that we are doing something, taking charge of what we *can* control, and making the most of it when we can't. And that's what matters.

(Not that this is an excuse to slack off, mind. This is March Madness.)

I love participating in monthly goals posts. I think they push me to do more because they help me stay focused and accountable. I may not always manage to get everything I wanted done, but I don't lose sight of what I want to achieve, either. And doing it this way, as part of a community? Whether it's once-weekly or thrice-monthly, or even just a twitter hashtag, the fact remains that it's done together, and we can all encourage each other.

My own goals took a major turn. There was a lot more that needed to be done for the sake of the story, to tell a better story. I'm not going to manage one of the items on my personal March WIP Madness Goals list, sending out queries, because I need to make these changes, first. No, it's not what I started out with, but I am sure glad it happened the way it did. Now the rest of the week will be pushing to get as much of that as I can done.

So, Wipsters, how about you? Are you where you expected to be with your goals? Any major twists or turns? Remember, we have less than a week left in this challenge, and we have each other for encouragement and support. Let's make it worth it!

And remember to check in with Denise Jaden tomorrow for more encouragement (and prizes, too)!

Embracing Change (March Madness Check-In, Day 5)

"Uncomfortable kitteh is ... apparently comfortable"

Welcome to March Madness Mondays! For those of you participating in the challenge, how's progress? For some, I know the weekend meant a break from the madness. For others, it was an opportunity. For me, it was a weird mix of both. I didn't manage quite what I'd intended to accomplish, but I made *some* progress. I'm up to Chapter 15 in my second pass read-through after making a major change. (More on that in a bit.)

Which brings me to my point.

Do you ever get attached to something? An element in your story. A certain creative habit. Even reading in a particular genre. Whatever it is, it's easy to fall into a comfort zone. We like it just the way it is and we don't want to let it go. So when someone tells us it doesn't belong or that we need to stretch ourselves or do things differently, then it rankles and if we're attached enough, the criticism falls on deaf ears.

But what if that means that we get so attached we refuse to make a change when we really need to? (Yoga pants, I am looking at you. Yes, you're comfortable. Fashionable everyday wear? I wish.)

So, what was it for me? Well, I always thought I was pretty flexible. Editorial suggestion? Sure! If something's not working, I can make changes. As long as the essence of the story remains, then if it makes things better, I can do both the story and myself justice by making those fixes. I'm not adverse to learning new things. If I have the opportunity to be a better writer, then I really ought to embrace it, right?

Yeah, but there was one little detail I'd decided was a non-negotiable.

Some of you already know the story, but I might as well explain it from scratch: My WIP, SIGN OF THE STAR, was written in first-person, present-tense. And even though some of my beta group told me that it didn't work for them, I chalked it up to a matter of opinion. The original was written that way. And that's how I wrote the revised version, too. But I clung to the idea that that was how the story was supposed to be. Even when one of the Magical Words folks made an excellent point that present tense comes at a heavy price. (Seriously, check the comments. See Moira Young's—my cursed pen name at the time—naive response.)

Then last month, I had tea with an awesome beta reader who doesn't pull punches, and she nailed the problem I'd been having with it when editing by telling me that "it was like watching through a veil". She had trouble connecting with the characters because the present tense created an artificial distance. Which was exacty not what I was going for.

So I caved. And before February was out, I'd changed the story over to past tense. (Really not hard, even though for awhile there I was mentally changing the tense of any text I encountered. Hooboy.) Now I'm making a second pass for clarity, voice and flow. And I love the story so much more. It feels more accessible. Janni's voice has never been more clear. Did I damage the story's integrity, or change my heartsong? Surprisingly, no.

Sometimes we have to make the change. Sometimes it can be scary. And sometimes it can be exactly what we need.

So, have you gotten stuck on or attached to something in your work? Have you asked yourself what the cost would be to you to try something different? What are the possible rewards? What's the worst that could happen if you gave it a chance? March Madness, #wipmadness, is about putting yourself out there, being daring. Let us embrace all that it can offer.

Update: Forgot to add, don't forget to check-in tomorrow (today actually) at Denise Jaden's blog.

Lost in the Music

I'm counting the cars
on the freeway below
lost in the music ...
- David Usher

For more than a year, I've heard people say that listening to music while trying to concentrate on something (such as studying or writing) is bad, because scientists have proven with multiple studies that multitasking is bad.

And I get where they're coming from. They're right: multitasking *is* bad. When I have to multitask at anything, I don't get nearly as much done as when I'm focused on a single project at once.

But I disagree that listening to music should be counted among that.

I am the eldest of four girls, with a five-plus year gap separating me and the other three. Now married, I live in an apartment and I don't get to choose my neighbours, whether they be screaming children or hard-partying college kids. My entire life has involved finding peace and quiet so I can write. And since I don't live on a farm or in a cabin in the woods or on the lake, away from the bustle of life, I need some way of minimizing distraction. Music helps me do that.

I'm trying to think of a way to explain this. In some places on the Internet, I've tried to explain that I use the music to fortify the part of my brain that deals with interruptions. The sound forms a barrier from *other* sounds that might distract me. The rhythm from the beat plus the melody of the song itself both get me in the groove. I stop listening to the song itself and I get into a zone. The music protects me. Did you know, I wrote the climactic two chapters of SIGN OF THE STAR by listening to Kevin Rudolf ft. Lil Wayne's "Let it Rock" on repeat sixty-eight times?

Now that I really think about it, I realize that what I'm describing is a trance. Hey, if it helps me write, I am perfectly fine with that designation.

A final thought: Several times in the last few months, I have tried writing without music. The fact that I am easily distracted aside, I feel unschooled, unable to concentrate, and way less productive. The only exception to this is (don't laugh) when I'm alone in the woods or it's so late at night, there *are* no distractions.

Even then, there's an iTunes in my head. Earworms? Not really. At this point, if something annoys me I can switch songs.

What I think this all comes down to, though, is the oft-repeated Magical Words mantra: there is no one right way to do this. I shouldn't feel bad if others, even scientists, disagree. This is what works for me. If listening to music while writing doesn't work for you, that's okay; to each their own. The times when I forget this are the times when I am least producive; when I complain, my TOEM writing group laughs and tells me to don my headphones.

Girl, put your records on.

When "Waste Not, Want Not" is a Bad Thing

Don Rocko and I are avid recyclers. Paper, cardboard, plastic ... we even have a compost. It's one way that we're lessening our collective carbon footprint. That's not all we do, but that's besides the point. For related reasons (the "reuse" part of the 3 R's), I'm a bit of a packrat.

And that's not a terrible thing, especially because I find it's often a useful money-saving trait. But as a blanket mentality, it's definitely a problem.

Because I am doing the same damn thing with my writing.

Rewrites are a necessity. A colleague of mine, whenever I tell him that I'm working on rewrites, likes to say, "writing is rewriting". And he's right, of course. Novels never spring fully formed and perfect from our heads. Rewrites will happen when we fix what our beta readers point out, when the agent asks us to make changes, and again when the publisher does, too.

The problem is that I've been rewriting and rewriting and rewriting and getting bogged down by the process.

The original SIGN OF THE STAR took me just over a year to write. But it was a 100K behemoth and desperately in need of a makeover. What's worse, the makeover involved splitting the manuscript into three. It's definitely a much better story for it now, but an overhaul of that magnitude took forever. An additional twenty-one months, to be precise—and that's just Book 1! Part of the reason why was that I didn't want to delete what I'd already written.

Now, I have my own valid concerns and mild phobias about forgetting and/or losing what I've created. But that packrat mentality has been holding me back, and I've only just realized the source of my frustration.

Digression: I have a trunked set of manuscripts (let's just call the whole lot "Takara", after the world I set it in) that I know are salvagable because I spent thirteen years, between the ages of twelve and twenty-five, pouring everything I had into them. Takara is my greatest heartsong, one I've given so much time and energy to that I know I will one day de-trunk it. (I love it enough to recognize that it's gonna stay trunked for some time.) Anyway, what strikes me is that when I was younger, I didn't hesitate to start over every few years and re-tell it better. Fresh. I recognized as I grew up with it that it needed work that a bit of tweaking wouldn't solve. And I was okay with that because I wanted to tell the story right.

So why did I stop doing that?

I don't know if I can pinpoint a single reason. Maybe it was that, as I got older, I started to think I was ready to seek publication. And that put pressure on me. (Read: I put pressure on myself.) I couldn't bear to start over, not when I felt so close. Oh, little did I know ...

So when it came time to break apart the original Janni story and craft the first volume of the trilogy, I took painstaking measures to save as much as I could, to build around what I had and enhance it. I was a packrat with my words. A miser. Trying to fill in the cracks of my work rather than starting over. And you know what that meant?

I no longer had a way of gauging how my writing has improved.

Don't get me wrong. I feel confident about SOTS now. I'm just saying that I went about it completely the wrong way.

I also haven't been engaging in nearly as much fresh writing as I'd like. In my drive to be published, I haven't taken as much time for fresh writing. I can be very crotchety about my writing time, given that I have a beloved but intense day job and other committments, like sword class and reading and oh, I don't know, friends and family. So some foolish part of me decided to categorize things like writing exercises and writing not related to SOTS as a waste of time.

This past Nano, I very quickly recognized that I was going nowhere with my attempts at STAR CHILD (SOTS #2). I was trying too hard to make my writing fit what I thought existed, and even just using that as a rough outline wasn't helping. (Especially since the story has changed so much.) So I started a new project, one whose ideas have been on the backburner and that I recently realized I wanted to bring to life. And it felt good.

Fresh writing is important. Even if it's just the same project, retold instead of tweaking, the way I did with the Takara stories. The point is that it's the creation of something new. And exercises, writing practice, don't take away from writing time. We've gotta lift weights to build muscle.

Realizing this has been a load off of my shoulders, to say the least.

October WIPmadness: Week 4 Check-in

Well, here we are at Week 4. One seven more days left! How has this past week gone for everyone?

*pause for extreme yawn* I maaaay be a wee-bit sleep deprived this morning. But I have good reason!

I had a crazy week leading up to the SiWC. I managed to get the finishing touches done on my Blue Pencil and agent pitch in time. Both went very well. Um, exceptionally well. During my Blue Pencil, where a published author looks at your work, I received great feedback on the urban fantasy piece I've been toying with for the last few months. It was nice to be able to talk not about spelling and grammar, but about word choice and plot issues. This novel isn't one that's set to a schedule. It's a piece I'm working on out of sheer joy and because it's so much fun. It is also definitely not YA, so it's technically not my focus. But as was reaffirmed for me this weekend, you have to write what you love. It's my motto: write the stories you wish to read in the world. And sometimes, I need a break from Janni and her story, which I also love very much but which can be intense, just because it's first-person, present-tense.

As for the agent pitch ... well, it went very well. I don't know how I feel about talking about it too much, because nothing is set in stone and for all I know, nothing will come of it. I have this bad habit of jinxing myself on the Internet. But my focus this week will be sending what I was asked to send, after one final pass.

Beyond that? Oh my gosh did I have so much fun at the conference. I got the chance to meet people I only knew from the Internet, including one of the original WIPmadness hosts, Denise Jaden! There were Twitter friends present as well, a few friends and acquaintances attending, and new folks, too.

Then there were the classes. I lucked out and found all of them quite useful for my needs, including the Master Classes I took with Diana Gabaldon and Donald Maass. I have notes to share! Lots of notes! You'll be seeing those in the weeks to come. I may be busy, what with NaNo coming and everything else, but I will post them.

Okay, enough gushing. I had fun. It was energizing and fantastic and I hope the good things prove to be great. But as with everything, we'll have to see.

How did your week go?

October WIPmadness: Week 3 Check-in

So, here we are at Week 3. For some of us, that means 15 days until NaNo. For some of us, it's just another two weeks until that magical night, Halloween (or Samhain, if you like).

Me, it means that I've only three more days until my writing conference. The hotel which has some interesting goings-on the day before, when I get there for Master Classes. (Don Rocko is even dropping me off right when things are most interesting, just so he can get to work on time. Uhhh. Well, hopefully it won't be too bad. And nothing like "This one year, I had to wade through protesters and Secret Service agents ..." for anecdotes, right?)

So, how did everyone do this week?

I made my tiger butter. (Pictures probably to follow next week, because I'm a bit pressed for time today.) I also went to the VancoWriMo Meet & Greet, where I officially signed up to be a Miniboss and host write-ins next month.

And most importantly ... I finished the edits to my WIP! *cue fanfare and sparkles and confetti*

I still have to prep for my pitch and my blue pencil sessions, but I *think* I can manage that in the next few days. Tonight is one of our TOEM write-ins, and I'm excited to finally, once again, be thinking of something that is not my WIP. Because beta feedback from one last person aside, it's a WIP no longer.

How's it been giong for everyone else?

I'll be at work today, so I'll be responding on my breaks and after. Hope everyone else has a great week!

Character Visuals (Artwork by Margo Perrie)

Several weeks ago, my friend David Davis asked me to describe Janni, the main character in my WIP, SIGN OF THE STAR. He said it was for a surprise, and I, not thinking much of it, rattled off some details and put it out of my mind. Between dealing with dirty laundry and struggling with rewrites, I've been a bit busy.

But then, about a week and a half ago, on the day Don Rocko and I celebrated our 4th wedding anniversary (at PAX, no less!), I received this lovely piece in my e-mail, drawn by Margo Perrie of the webcomic Witch and Cat:

I was floored. David (author/artist of the webcomic Cosmic Dash) has been one of my beta readers for SIGN OF THE STAR since it was very different from how it is now, so big thanks to him for making this happen. And fantastic artwork, Margo!

My amusing anecdote, aside from the awesome surprise that this was (and the silly fact that because I wasn't paying attention, there are a few niggly little details that are off which is totally *my* fault), is this:

When I received the piece, after the initial surprise, I frowned. There was something wrong with it that I could not place. Which sounds awful, because the artwork itself is amazing. It's a beautiful depiction of Janni, both when she's traveling on the road and when she gets a chance to dress up. It looks just like her, and it's even inspired me with some of her description. So what was bothering me about it?

Then I realized the problem: she's smiling.

Which is not a comment on the artwork. It's a sad fact about Janni. But then, given that she's spent most of her life in hiding from an uncle who tried to kill her and a destiny she wants no part of, she hasn't had much reason to smile.

All is not lost, however. She'll find reasons. And when she looks at her love interest, I realize that this is *exactly* what she looks like when she's smiling unguarded at him. ♥

Have you ever had the chance to have your character drawn by an artist? Has it helped the story, or given you new insight about a character?