Category: WIP

Hooks & The Hunger Games

**There are mild spoilers in this post. If you haven’t read The Hunger Games and don’t wish to have the book spoiled, you might want to stop reading here.**

This morning I started reading The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. I don’t read much dystopian, but I’ve heard the hype about this almost-trilogy and had to see what it’s all about. I’m currently about halfway through and completely blown away. Ms. Collins has created a world that’s unique—brutal, disturbing, vivid, frightening, and totally fascinating. Her imagery (setting, food, clothing, etc…) is colorfully stunning. Her descriptions of fear, betrayal, pride, and love are spot-on and pull at all the right strings. Her weaving of back story throughout the novel is seamless.

What I love most, though—what’s stuck out among all of Ms. Collin’s literary talents—are her end-of-chapter hooks.

Three different times today I’ve been reading along and thought I’ll stop at the end of this chapter and get something productive done. On all three of those occasions, I’ve reached the end of the chapter, gasped with surprise, and flipped the page filled with anticipation and (usually) dread. The first time it happened: the end of Chapter One, at the reaping when Primrose Everdeen is called forward to participate in the Hunger Games. The second: the end of Chapter Nine when Peeta declares his love for Katniss at the pre-Game interviews. The third: the end of Chapter Eleven when Katniss realizes that Peeta has joined up with the Career tributes. Each time I’ve read on, gripped with anxiety, dying to find out what happens next, all the while shaking my head in awe at how successful Ms. Collin has been at writing a literal page turner.

Now, I’m inspired to go through WIP and ensure that I’ve got amazing end-of-chapter hooks of my own. Isn’t it incredible how with each book you read (good, bad, or otherwise) you absorb something new?

End of June Update

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First, I’m deep in Significant Revision #1 of WIP. My CP messaged me the other day with “Are you busy? We need to talk about your plot.” Uh oh. Turns out, it wasn’t as bad as I initially thought, and her advice was (as usual) excellent. Now that I’m implementing many of the changes she suggested, things are coming together nicely. Plot points are crisper, emotions are clearer, and details that needed expanding are getting their due. I’ve yet to tackle the ending (CP said, “I need more!), but I’ve put a lot of thought into it and I’m looking forward to delving in.

Second, here’s what I’ve been looking at out my back windows for pretty much the entire month of June:

Cool, dull, and gray. Right above that hill, under the threatening clouds, is Mount Rainier. While this weather is annoying and depressing, it has been quite conducive to writing, for which I am thankful. Had it not been for Boot Camp and this never-ending string of crappy weather, I’d probably still be about 20k into WIP instead of knee deep into revisions.   

Finally, my hubby, daughter and I took a ten-hour road trip to Mountain Home, Idaho last weekend to visit my brother and his new baby. Gabriel is about five weeks now, and (of course) adorable. Almost adorable enough for me to want another baby, but not quite. 🙂 Here are a few pictures from our trip:

Baby Gabriel and me!

Baby Gabriel, Claire, Me, Zach (my brother & the new daddy)

Playing at the park! 🙂

This makes me smile!

At the rodeo... Claire wasn't impressed!

Friday Five

A very random Friday Five:

1)      My To-Read shelf is officially out of control again. I’m smack in the middle of Ken Follett’s World Without End, which is nothing short of AMAZING, but I’m looking forward to finishing because I’ve got three YA books I’ve already bought that I’m dying to read:

  

2)      So, I know I’m majorly late in jumping on the Six Feet Under bandwagon, (yes, I’m aware that it’s been off the air for years!) but it’s so amazing that I feel compelled to mention it here. If you like dark, dry, humorous, and thought-provoking (and are not easily offended), you simply must watch this show. I was a huge Michael C. Hall fan going in (Dexter, anyone?!), but I officially worship him now. Six Feet Under is my newest guilty pleasure.

  

3)      Thanks to Savvy Boot Camp and my amazing team, ANGST ARMY, I have finished the first draft of WIP (as I will continue to refer to it until I come up with a title I adore). I have written somewhere around 40,000 words this month and have started into Revisions: Phase One. I know I’m crazy and probably in the minority, but I love revising and editing and polishing! Also in Savvy Authors news—I have discovered that with almost constant camaraderie, writing is even more enjoyable. Loving the Savvy chat rooms! Don’t ever want to write alone again!

   

4)      My husband is coming home from a two-week work trip today! Though I did manage to write more than half of WIP during his absence, I have missed him greatly (as does my Munchkin). As an Army captain, he has deployed to some of the most despicable places on the planet, but this trip was to a tiny tropical island chain in the Indian Ocean. I’m slightly envious and wish I could have gone too, but he definitely deserved this trip. He got to Jet Ski and snorkel with sea turtles and got a wicked sunburn… lucky! Here’s a picture of where he was (emailed to me the other day):

 

5)      I don’t watch a lot of TV, but when I do, it’s almost always Bravo. Their newest show is called Work of Art and it’s very cool. Think the aesthetics of Project Runway mixed with competitiveness of Top Chef, plus paints, eccentric people, screen-printing, “found art,” and Sarah Jessica Parker producing. What’s not to love?

Time for a little celebration!

I officially finished WIP today, and really, I kind of love it. It still needs work: revisions and edits and deletions and transitions and several read throughs, but the story is there and it’s strong. I’m elated, but a little sad too, sort of like how after childbirth you briefly miss pregnancy. Then, of course, you totally get over that and thank God the swollen ankles and heartburn and extra thirty-five pounds are gone. Or, in the case of WIP, I’ll thank God that the plotting and characterizing and constant knuckle-pop-inducing typing is over.

I can’t wait to delve into revisions now, to make sure it all flows and sounds pretty and provokes the appropriate emotional responses. Can’t wait to hear from my awesome CP and read all of her fabulous comments and suggestions. Revisions are my favorite part! Stay tuned for more on that process, and later… the querying process.

For now, I’m celebrating!   

Christmas in May

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FEBRUARY 2011 EDIT: I originally posted this teaser back in May when I was drafting Loving Max Holden. Since then, the story has been revised *ahem* repeatedly and has also gotten a new title: Cross My Heart. Now I’m updating the original teaser with the most recent (and best!) version of the scene. Enjoy! 🙂

I’m having all kinds of fun with my WIP! Part of it takes place during Christmas, which is a time full of family and warmth and homey smells and lovely imagery–so exciting to write about. Plus, the love interest, Max, is sort of hot. Here’s an excerpt:     

     

          I was expecting him to turn and head for the stairs, satisfied that all was right in the world again. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced up toward the ceiling. He stayed quiet, but his eyes were alight with mischief when they met mine again, his grin back where it belonged. He took a slight step to the right and gave a nod of his head, indicating I should follow. I did, confused but intrigued; Max was rarely evasive. He looked up again, this time pointedly, and I followed his gaze.

            A little sprig of green with waxy white berries, affixed with a festive red bow to the archway we were standing beneath.

            No. No, no, no.

            “You know what this means?” Max asked, the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree dancing in his eyes.

            I gave a dry laugh, unwilling to believe he was considering it. “It’s a stupid tradition. Did you know mistletoe is actually a parasitic shrub? Not very romantic, in my opinion.”

            Incredibly, he sounded sort of disappointed when he said, “You don’t want me to kiss you?”      

            Definitely not. It was a horrible idea. Horrible. “Do you want to kiss me?”

            “Would I be standing here if I didn’t?”

            “How drunk are you, Holden?”

            He laughed again, the baritone sound bouncing pleasantly off the walls. “Just drunk enough, I think.” He took my cup and set it and his beer down on the nearby end table, freeing up his hands. “Let’s do this before the game starts up again.”

            God, he was serious. Shutting out the voice in my head that screamed bad idea!, I glanced around to make sure we were still alone. Then, against my better judgement, I took the tiniest step forward.

            We were close, closer than we’d been in years, and I inhaled, needing oxygen to ease my nerves. Oh, he smelled very good, a clean woodsy scent that reminded me of evergreens and hiking and moonlight. Before I could sort through the zillion contradictory thoughts racing through my head, I gazed into his eyes. Everything—my knees, my pulse, my resolve—went weak.

            “Jesus, Jilly, you look scared shitless. We don’t have to.”

            “No, I’m fine.”

            He rested his hands on my shoulders. “You’re sure?”

            “I’m sure,” I whispered.

            I closed my eyes as he slowly leaned in.

            It was different than I’d imagined, not awkward or forced like it probably should have been. Instead, it was warm and tentative and soft. It felt good and I kissed him back, matching his surprising tenderness. He slid his hands from my shoulders, under my hair and along my neck until they were against my cheeks, his calloused palms gently cradling my face. He was kissing me like it was something he’d wanted to do forever.

            When he pulled away for one terrible second, I thought it was over. Then the softest groan escaped him and he walked me backward to the wall, pressing against me, opening his mouth against mine. I tasted beer, mingling with peppermint, and wondered if I’d ever know what he tasted like under normal circumstances. I shoved that particular musing out of my head immediately, content to focus on the mind-boggling here and now: I was making out with Max Holden.