This morning I sensed the sun rising before I saw it. My dream was part of an ongoing alter ego in an other unworldly existence I visited often. Today was different. I felt it…a promise. Something was brighter, clearer. I raised my arms and they were lighter, the air was fresh and beckoning me.
My chest rose when I inhaled. Clean air filled my lungs as my heart beat steadily and my vision cleared. I knew where I was. I heard the children giggling. The sound of rain drops hitting the leaves outside slowed to a soft “drip-drop-plop.”
I inhaled deeply, tossed my long white curls over my shoulders, and lowered my arms to my waist.
Ahhh! I slowly rose. Up, up, up, turning toward the magnificent sun rise. I remembered…my mind shared reality on the edge of madness, but I sensed the coding taking place in my head. I was alive…
Eliza March – “Outworlder”. This was previously 1 of 7 short stories available in “The Awakening Of The Unknown (Paranormal/Sci-fy Anthology). OUTWORLDER a dystopian complete novel by ELIZA MARCH will be Coming soon … 2025.
It’s my birthday 🎂 In this Covid Cluster F@#% every day is a 🎁 gift! How do I stay positive? It’s often a challenge. Strangely I’ve discovered some quick temporary fixes you might try. Find something else… In other words, whatever you’re doing at the time you are depressed…do something else. Change channels. Move. Do not stay in place. Find a different energy! Music. Colors. Light. Bright. Soothing. Energizing. Find what works at any given moment…until it does. We are not allowing ourselves to be sucked into the muck! Pull yourself out of the quick sand of despair. Wiggle. Grab ahold of whatever you can. Use your sheer energy to make the first move then keep going. Happy birthday to your new day.
Over a year ago when there were no tests for the illness I had, I now believe it was COVID-19.
I have a love hate relationship with starting a new book. I just completed a novella (Where Your Heart Finds Home) for an anthology. I have another (No Official title AI) due in three weeks. I’m writing all over the place…unable to focus on a genre. But I am having fun. I just wrote my first sweet romance. I have a follow up plan for a series or a major novel called Off Season in the Hamptons. It’s sketched out and scheduled for a mid year 2022 release.
My February short story is a teaser for my sci-fi novel also planned for 2022. I might put that one off until early 2023. It’s a Brave New World meets a Dystopian World reality.
They are four hot, sexy men, (John “Rocket” Hardin, Matt “ Viper” Roman, Scott “Blaze” Miranda and Vic “ Eagle” Bodine), former SEALS and lifelong friends. They served their country well, and winning billions in the Powerball lottery allows them to continue to serve –creating an agency that takes cases others refuses. Their only office is in their plane. Their skills are limitless. Their missions often the blackest of black ops. Their commitment unequaled. When everything else fails, Galaxy can save you. They play as hard as they work, addicted to no-holds-barred sex and none of them in the market for a relationship. One by one, however, they will fall for women who can give as good as they get. Get ready, because Galaxy is open for business.
Book #1
Retrograde
Hot ex-military, desperate woman, tight conspiracy…wait for the explosion!
Peyton West is desperate. Her brother-in-law is dead, her sister is in a coma and no one seems interested in finding any answers. With every door slammed in her face, she’s referred to Scott “Blaze” Hamilton and the men from super-secret Galaxy. Conducting meetings on a plane and digging into the underbelly of Tampa politics, she sees a ray of hope…and discovers Blaze lives up to his name in more ways than one. She crosses her fingers that the scorching sex will continue to blaze once the killer is found.
Excerpt:
Was she looking for help with a book? Galaxy didn’t do that kind of stuff. It made them too visible.
He learned her sister and brother-in-law had recently been in a car accident, hit by a speeding vehicle in front of a hotel. The brother-in-law had been killed and the sister was still in a coma. Blaze vaguely remembered reading about it online when he was idly skimming—just three paragraphs, and there hadn’t been anything that rang his chimes. Hit and run, that was it. He hated those, because no one was ever made to answer for it, but nothing had seemed out of the ordinary.
Besides, Galaxy didn’t investigate auto accidents. That was what the cops were for. Did that mean she had an overactive imagination and there was little substance to whatever she wanted from him? He mentally shook his head. No, his brother was too much of a pragmatist to send him someone who saw shadows where there were none.
Before he checked further, he decided to reach out to Nolan and get the skinny on Peyton West and her situation. His brother shocked him by having five minutes free at that particular moment.
“She’s not a nutcase,” he said at once. “This isn’t something she made up for one of her novels, I promise you that. This is some serious shit and everyone everywhere is stonewalling her. If you can find out who the driver was, that ought to open up the whole can of worms. But I believe her, Blaze.”
He couldn’t ask for better validation than that.
He was waiting when the black sedan headed down the gravel drive exactly at four o’clock and parked by the hangar. All four of them tried not to prejudge clients before interacting with them. Appearances, as they all knew, could be very deceiving. But the woman who exited the Mercedes, tense and buttoned-up as she was, made every bit of saliva in his mouth dry up.
She was of medium height, the slacks and sweater she wore doing little to disguise the mouthwatering curves of her body or the natural sway of her hips as she walked. Thick, glossy chestnut hair was pulled back tightly into a ponytail. When she came close enough, he could see her eyes were a rich dark green that looked out at him from beneath chocolate lashes. Out of nowhere, he was seized with a desire to strip off her clothes and run his hands over her body.
Dickwad! Asshole!
Where the hell had this come from, anyway, and what the fuck was wrong with him? He never, ever reacted to clients like this. He’d better get his shit together in a hurry. And figure out why he had lost his brain somewhere on the tarmac.
But then his common sense caught up with him. He saw the rigid way she controlled herself, the look of strain etched into her face and the mixture of rage and panic that swirled in her eyes. It was a look he’d seen in so many of the clients who came to Galaxy. And that was enough to make his hungry dick, the one that had been looking forward to some action tonight, deflate in a hurry. This was business. A mission. This was what they did. What she was here for. Thank god for his SEAL discipline.
He held out a hand to her. “Scott Hamilton, but please, call me Blaze. We’re all used to our military code names.”
They had decided to use those with clients, since they addressed each other that way and there’d be less confusion.
“Peyton West. I have a desperate need for your help, and I can’t stress that word enough.”
He nodded toward the plane, waiting in front of the hangar. “All right. Let’s take a little flight to nowhere and you can tell me all about it.”
What is Writer’s Block? The inability to move your story plot forward.
Why is Writer’s Block? You know… Everything else gets in the way of Story. You forget who your characters really are. Where they’re going or why. Life is a lot like that too.
Clutter can be as bad as a blank page or canvas. Start somewhere. Clear the path to open your mind. Have no preconceived notions. Allow no no obstacles to prevent you from advancing.
This is my advice to me. You’re welcome to look over my shoulder…
You can’t write or live if you can’t pause and open your senses first. Find your inner space where the story grows and mentally become a time traveler. Ask questions. What happened before ? What caused the action? What would happen next if something changed. Get out the telescope or microscope and zoom in–zoom out. The view is different from different perspectives or angles. Pay attention to details. Make every word count. Make every second count.
Photo by Kat Jayne on Pexels.com
You only do this life once (I think) so do it well and thoroughly. Appreciate a sunrise or a sunset. Watch the moon rise. Laugh at the squirrels.
Take a moment to be still. Be observant. It will make you wiser.
Prioritize.
Make a plan. Follow it. Break it. Only deter if the outcome may be worth it or unavoidable.Adjust.
Breathe. Inhale, but don’t forget to exhale. Expel the bad and keep the good.
Listen with your brain turned on high. React with your heart and soul. Write one word. OPEN. Add another. OPEN. UP. NOW. LIFE. IS. WAITING. For you…
Not really a secret: I’ve been an editor for an electronic press for almost twelve years. I was fortunate to have an excellent trainer and supervising editors who helped along the way, and as I look back, I’m very proud of the books I acquired and published. I’ve worked with a variety of award winning authors who began as newbies to Rita finalists and New York Times best sellers. One thing is always the same…no one can edit their own books. The flaws in our own work seem to blend into the fabric we’ve woven, making it nearly impossible for us to identify until we have been away from the subject for awhile. (Thank goodness for spell check or I couldn’t write a note without typos.)
My editing specialty is actually content editing, or developmental editing, and finding repetitions and holes in the story lines. Once an author has the manuscript written, I’m the first reader who recommends how to tighten up the Plot, point out where the characters’ personalities and behaviors need more Development and Depth, and check to make certain the Pacing and Hooks keep the reader interested to the very end…and beyond. I want that book to stay in the reader’s head long after they finish reading it. I want it to be one they’d like to read again and again.
But as an author, I find it hard to duplicate this ability for myself. Why is that? At the time it looks okay when I send it to my beta readers. They pick up on a few things but editors pick up everything!
Oh, I easily identify what it needs, long after it’s published, but if left to my devices, I’d rewrite my books every two years, just to make sure. Well not totally rewrite, but I’d re-polish them, dust them off, at the very least. And then, I also believe I should leave them alone. Sometimes that initial wording isn’t the most grammatically correct way of putting it, but it’s the most honest interpretation of what’s going on in the author’s head. The wording is slightly uncomfortable, but the feeling is accurate. So when editing, it’s important to allow the character’s voice to reveal itself in dialogue while the author’s voice comes out in narrative as well asin the way the style of the story is put together.
My author voice is more than one style, depending upon what I’m writing. It’s one way in my serious plots, but something entirely different in my romantic humor. One is an example of my dream state writing, and the other is full of my internal thoughts, a process I don’t dare speak. In any case, they are both different from my style here on my blog, which is my more informative voice. So, it’s important that wording and sentence style belong to the author, as long as the structure is somewhat accurate; no dangling participles or misplaced modifiers, split infinitives and so on…
Everyone worries about the comma, but as long as the pause is in the right place, and the reader can make sense out of the sentence, then all is well. Different grammar rules allow for some flexibility. Take fiction versus non fiction: fiction has more lenient rules often because like poetry the author controls the meaning of dialogue and narrative using sentence length and rhythm to determine pace. Pace helps drive a story. During action, danger, or suspense scenes the reader is tied to the scene (no breaks) until the conclusion. Sometimes, I find myself holding my breath so I read faster to catch my breath before moving on to the next scene. If the author has been paying attention, he/she will give the reader a change of pace–some down time to recuperate–before going on to another breath holding scene.
You can see why it’s important to have a fresh eye on the manuscript. If you’re the one writing the story, you know what’s coming. You’ve edited this a few times and certainly read it enough that you aren’t holding your breath or sobbing at the scenes this time around. It’s beginning to make it more difficult to be objective…more difficult to see where you need speed or a break…more difficult to identify what could make your book the best it could be. If the editor has been in the trenches with the author helping rewrites maybe they both need an objective eye, a fresh point of view. The answer is an educated beta reader–someone who can answer your list of concerns and point out anything else they might come across.
You can find more on this website by clicking on the Writing Tab.
Too much input. My internal computer is slowing down and freezing up. I’m suffering from scattered goals due to wind blown thoughts. I’m feeling like a disorganized airhead.
I can only fly (or write) by the seat of my pants so long before my projects begin to weigh on me and bring me crashing to earth. The sooner I stop flapping and take control, the less weight I carry before I crash…and I minimize the injuries.
So what is my solution to regrouping? Lists. Calendars. Prioritizing. Organizing.
I pause. Put on some music. (Your choice.) Pick a good spot to sit or stand. Gather my stuff…
I go back to my old lists and gather them all together so I can reset. It’s my version of rebooting. I need a large surface to spread out my lists and various information. I’m definitely not as efficient as my computer. I check my phone notes and computer notes as well as my accumulated little notebooks. I pull out the sticky notes and gather my new blank sticky notes. I organize everything into piles (my filing system) until I can move them into an order of importance and create my new workload (my to do list).
A calendar is absolutely essential. One with room for details helps. If I could paint my walls with remarkable paint, I would create my life in washable markers where I can see it at a glance. Sticky notes, calendars, whiteboards, chalkboards, and daytimers are all electronic, so why am I less organized than ever? Too many apps. Too many options. I need my life in one place or fewer projects.
I attended a workshop last year and I’m thinking maybe I should actually implement the plan I started. I need to add open time I can move around in my calendar for unforseen calamities. I need catch up days for the internet being down, the grandchildren, time to smell the roses when my brain is fried, and a vacation from the plan.
All suggestions are welcome. Please comment with helpful tricks you’ve found effective. and thank you in advance.
The day after a book release we sit and count the comments and bite our nails hoping this experiment works. It’s not about the money (Though who wouldn’t be excited about that?) It’s about the approval.
Writing is like giving someone a gift. You hope it’s a good choice. That they like it. That they can use it. That it’s exactly what they need at that particular moment.
I read Nora Roberts Whiskey Creek recently and gave out a sigh on the first page remembering why I enjoy reading her writing so much. It felt like coming home.
That’s why I enjoy writing. I want to give someone that experience of melting into my book. Escape from the moment.
I next turned to JR Ward’s The Chosen. Again, different author, different style, different genre…still that wonderful moment of escape. Relaxation. My drug of choice is reading.
This weekend, try something I wrote just for you. You can find something to take you away on my Amazon Author page.
Too much input. My internal computer is slowing down and freezing up. I’m suffering from scattered goals due to wind blown thoughts. I’m feeling like a disorganized airhead.
Eliza March Writes...Books, Blogs, and Writing Secrets 