Writing Wednesday: Using Narrative Closeness to Show

Good Morning everyone :)

I'd like to take just a moment to thank Jenny Siler for coming to my blog yesterday. If you didn't get a chance to visit with her, take a moment to follow the links in my previous blogpost to find out why she's one of my all time favorite authors! :)

(If you'd like to forward this exercise on to a writing group or forum, please feel free, just include my name and a link back--thanks!) Okay, now on with Writing Wednesday! :)

Today we’re going to have fun combining narrative closeness and show instead of tell. This is an interactive blog today, so either get a new fresh document opened up, or grab a pen and notepad.

There are myriad ways to go about this, but my process is very simple and I’ll share it with you here:

First: Know your character. Give them a voice and a style unique to them. For our purposes today, pick a character you’ve worked with extensively—or dream up a brand new one for a brand new project. If you choose the latter, pick a character in your gender and from a background you’re familiar with.

I’m going to use Kaylee Hensler, the 14yr. old skater girl from a small Wisconsin town.
(Write a similar statement)

Second: Know your elements. You don’t necessarily have to have been to the setting in person, but try to read first-hand accounts and find a way to relate what you have lived to the moment. Such as living in Houston gave me a great appreciation for tropical weather I might never have had if I’d never left Wisconsin. This gave me excellent fodder when I wrote the Knight Inc. series with settings from Panama to Brazil.

I’m going to use Barclay Hall, a fictional elite reformatory for wayward girls.
(Write a similar statement)

Third: Connect the dots. Between who the character is and where that character is, you’ll have to find your own sensory-related details to flesh out the moment. For our purposes today, don’t use a moment with a lot of dialogue. We want to focus on the difference between telling about the scene, and showing the scene using narrative closeness so it’s important to give yourself that room to explore outside of the dialogue. Pick the moment where the character’s who—meets the character’s experience.

I’m going to use Kaylee meeting Mary, the most popular girl for the first time.
(Write a similar statement)

Fourth: Know what’s important. Your character will find different things important than another character would. Depending on their vulnerabilities and the way they view themselves and the world, you’ll need pick those details that strengthen the character and their journey—as well as reveal more of the plot points.

I’m going to use Kaylee’s struggle to compete with her mother’s beauty and still maintain her tomboyish pursuits.
(Write a similar statement)

Now you should have a list that looks something like this:
Kaylee Hensler, the 14yr. old skater girl from a small Wisconsin town.
Barclay Hall, a fictional elite reformatory for wayward girls.
Kaylee meeting Mary, the most popular girl for the first time.
Kaylee’s struggle to compete with her mother’s beauty and still maintain her tomboyish pursuits.

This is the bare bones of your moment and what will define how it appears on the page:

Mary flipped shiny red curls over one shoulder and smiled, her perfect white teeth like some super diva from MTV’s Sweet Sixteen show. Kaylee smiled back, but didn’t reveal her totally human colored teeth. So okay, she just had to keep reminding herself that everyone at Barclay Hall was a criminal, even if they just came off the cover of Seventeen magazine. Where were the Avryl Lavignes and retro fans of The Ramones? Did everyone care more about painting their nails than committing to a wicked stunt no matter the risk—or was she already the freak here?

These details are specific to Kaylee—they reveal how aware she is of the pop culture she lives, her history and background, and her vulnerabilities. If you notice, though this paragraph is depicting how Mary looks, the only two details I offer are the color her teeth and hair. The rest describes the way she looks without actually sharing eye color, height, expected age—the sort of thing many new writers struggle to show, and veteran authors know is really pointless because the protagonist’s story is what the reader wants, not lists of details from the author, no matter how well written.

Post your list and resulting moment in the comments so we can all share the experience together! :)

Warmly,
Jenny:)
P.S. As I'm leaving in the morning to visit my father before I fly out Friday to LA, I'm going to be sporadic responding, but I *will* respond! ;)

Jenny Siler for Talent Tuesday!

Jenny Siler aka Alex Carr RULES!!

Okay everyone, this is a BIG BLOG day for us. There are a gazillion authors I honestly admire and aspire to emulate, but there are few authors whom I truly envy. Dean Koontz is one, for his grasp of language and consistently entertaining imagination. Jenny Siler is another, for her ability to make me walk away from a book with such vivid memories of the story they actually feel like I’ve lived them personally. This is not even something Koontz has done to the same degree.

Jenny Siler is not just a talented plotter, but she has managed to pull from the real world just the right amount of information, the right details, to make the reader experience the moment fully. Gosh, some of my memories of her writing even include scent! Talk about knowing what you’re doing!;)

The level of research she does is awe-inspiring, and inspiring—making me want to bury my nose in research so the world’s I create can come just as alive as the ones Siler creates for her readers. This is one of the MANY reasons I’m so very thrilled we’re part of launching her nonfiction book: The Art of the Heist: Confessions of a Master Art Thief, Rock-and-Roller, and Prodigal Son.



Description from Harper Collins:

"From New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art, to the Smithsonian Institution in D.C., to Boston's Museum of Fine Art, to dozens of regional museums throughout the United States, no museum was off-limits to legendary art thief Myles Connor. He has used every technique in the book, from breaking and entering, to cat burglary, to false identities and elaborate con jobs. He once even grabbed a Rembrandt off a wall in broad daylight and simply ran like hell. His IQ is at genius level, and his charm is legendary. The fact that he was in jail at the time of the famous robbery of the Isabella Stewart Gardener Museum—which remains the largest art theft in American history—has not stopped the FBI from considering him a top suspect in that still unsolved robbery.

How did the son of a decorated policeman grow up to become one of Boston's most notorious criminals? How did he survive a decades-long feud with the Boston police and the FBI? How did he manage to escape one jail sentence with a simple fake gun carved out of soap? How did he trade the return of a famous Rembrandt in exchange for early release from another sentence?

The Art of the Heist is a roller-coaster ride of a life, by a man who was drawn to misadventure at every turn. As a promising young rock star, Myles Connor started collecting Japanese swords and weapons. Soon his collection expanded through less than legitimate means, and his education in European masters and modern artists accelerated. Disguised as an art collector, he spent time in the archives of museums far and wide, and visited after hours to take advantage of what he learned by day.

Along the way, he robbed banks, warehouses, trailers, and estate homes. He engaged in rooftop shootouts with the police. He walked the streets of Boston in disguise while dozens of policemen were out searching for him. The Art of the Heist is part confession, part thrill ride, and impossible to put down."

I’m truly excited Jenny’s coming to respond to comments and I hope y’all will make her feel warm and welcome.

Feel free to ask her questions—including how to eat sushi, since she was the one who taught me! ;) Y’all just don’t know how cool it is to stand in line to have all your books autographed by a favorite author and then be invited to lunch! (Or maybe you do, lol! ;) )

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Just a Few Notes for the Upcoming Week :)

Hey everyone :)

Monday: We'll announce the winner of the Chocolate Recipe contest so get your recipe in today for your chance to win a free autographed copy of my awared-winning romantic suspense novel, "My Biker Bodyguard." If you're not into romance, it might make a great Mother's Day gift and I'd be happy to personalize it with Mom's name and a wish from you :)

Tuesday: Dreams really do come true! :) Jenny Siler, aka, Alex Carr is dropping by the blog to celebrate Talent Tuesday with us and share about her new release, The Art of the Heist: Confessions of a Master Art Thief, Rock-and-Roller, and Prodigal Son


Writing Wednesday: This week we'll discuss how to use narrative closeness and details to master "showing" instead of telling. A must read for anyone who has been struggling with this concept!

Thrilling Thursday: I'll be leaving for LA on this day, but I'll be checking in when possible, so don't forget to drop by and share your thoughts on favorite childhood spooks and find out which is mine :)

Fun Friday: Yes, I'll be in LA by this time, but I wouldn't miss a chance to create some fun! You'll have to tune in to find out what the contest and the prize are (I'm still working on a donation that I think you'll all find hard to resist! :)
I'll try, if I can, to blog in every evening and share what's happening with the book festival, who I've met and what I've done to make good on all the faith friends and family have in me. I don't know when I'll have a chance to connect to the internet, but I'll do my best!

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Fun Friday: Chocolate Love!

Happy Friday everyone!! :)

This week's contest is really simple, but one of my favorite kind: chocolate!! :)

How to Enter: Submit your favorite chocolate recipe. It can be any kind of recipe, from combining ready-made products (like 'Smores) or totally from scratch (like brownies or truffles.)
Over the course of the weekend, I'll be checking back regularly and may even try out a few of these yummy recipes myself! :)

The Prize: Since chocolate and romance go hand in hand, I'll be giving away a free copy of my award-winning romantic suspense novel, My Biker Bodyguard. Now, if you don't read romance, but know someone who does and deserves a lovely gift, you can have it personalized and sent to them directly as a gift ;) Spreading the love (of romance and chocolate) is an awesome way to spend a weekend, doncha think? :)



The winner will be announced on Monday, so spread the word and the love around to all your peeps! :)

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Thrilling Thursday: Boo!

As y'all know, my Extreme Hauntings YA series from Quake is all about ghost stories. Some of you might have read why I chose to go with ghost stories, but honestly, I'll tell you much of the decision rested on my desire to see more really great ghost stories on the shelves. The last great series I read about ghosts was Anne Rice's "The Witching Hour" even if she decided to bring these ghosts to life and created the Taltos to explain how this was possible.

I've read books and watched movies with ghosts. "13 Ghosts" was pretty awesome and I enjoyed "What Lies Beneath" in a more intelligent way (rather than visceral great fun.) Probably becuase I didn't recall seeing Harrison Ford play a bad guy before.

I think my love for ghost stories was sparked by the original movies "The Uninvited" and "The Haunting." These weren't scary because of special effects or the predatory nature of the ghosts out for blood--they scared me by appealing to some strange human trait that speaks to us about life beyond death. I can't think of anything else that people want to believe is true, but which also instills real fear as the possibility of our spirits living longer than our bodies.

My grandmother believes in ghosts. She talks about a house she had in Superior in WI when my father and uncle were little boys. Apparently my uncle would not go up the back staircase because "the old lady in the black dress" wouldn't let him get past her. She tells of how she saw the woman once herself.

Another family favorite story is the sea captain who lives in my grandmother's Victorian house in the middle of Milwaukee. He is said to stand at the foot of your bed and watch you sleep. I can't tell you how many times I tried to pretend I was asleep then pop open my eyes and try to catch a glimpse of him--all the while freaking out and hoping I didn't see anything at all.

Are there any ghost stories or hauntings in your family history? Did a relative ever tell you about the place they lived or the house they visited where they had a close encounter with a ghost? Or maybe there's a building or town legend where you live about ghosts wandering about in the wee hours of the morning?

I'll look forward to reading your comments!

Warmly,
Jenny:)

P.S. Michael Norman, author of Haunted Wisconsin (and many more!) is an awesome guy! Maybe I can coax him into doing a Talent Tuesday with us? Would y'all enjoy that? :)

Jenny Siler aka Alex Carr Rocks!!

Hello everyone!

Personal circumstances have kept me away from the computer for the last few days, but I’m going to be using this Writer Wednesday to share some great news and combine it with Talent Tuesday.

Jenny Siler, aka Alex Carr, is a favorite author of mine. I think I’ve mentioned before that I’m not a big fan of first-person in fiction. However, Jenny Siler has made a believer out of me that when it’s done right, and by a talented author, first-person really shines. I’ve collected all her novels and I’m eager to share with you why Jenny Siler is not just fantastic, but awe-inspiring!

(Don’t miss the end of this post for some awesome news!)

Easy Money:




This is one of those books where you forget that you’re reading about a character who doesn’t actually exist. Voyeurism at its best; because it’s so unexpected. At first, I thought I was in for a great read along the lines of Dean Koontz’s “Intensity.” This was more than that though. In Intensity, China relies on the survival skills her past gave her to survive a psycho on the loose who’s only motivation is to fulfill his insane fantasies. In Easy Money, Allie doesn’t rely solely on her past as the daughter of a drug runner, but also on her heart and mind to resolve a crime committed during Viet Nam, one where the cover-up has recently led to the execution of a retired CIA agent.

Jenny didn’t make the mistake of letting up on the gritty reality of living and growing up in the underworld to introduce a Bondesque style plot where government intrigue catapulted the reader into some sleek and sophisticated realm of suit-wearing, gun-toting posh villains with British accents and impeccable taste. She stayed true to the sensory input that made this story real to me.

Flashback:



If I thought I loved Easy Money, Flashback was to make me a fan for life. How could I, the lover of action and strong heroines, not fall completely in love with Eve? Her memories buried, she took refuge with nuns in France. When the nuns are massacred by someone wishing to kill Eve, she’s forced to figure out who she was before she lost her memory or die trying.

For me, the brilliance of this story (beyond the opening hook) was how I felt like I had lived and breathed the alleys, streets and shops of Marrakech when I came away from the story. Even with a fabulous plot I couldn’t guess before hand and Jenny’s wonderfully realistic and unique characters (who are all flawed with profoundly human weaknesses) it was the sense of living and breathing in the full moment, including the setting, that kept me riveted to her writing.

An Accidental American:



Writing as Alex Carr, this was a long awaited new novel for me and I was happy to get my copy within the first week of its release—but even more thrilled when I was introduced to Nicole, a woman well known for her abilities as a forger. Instead of sharing with you all the wonderful things about this book—as they again would praise Jenny’s strengths as a writer (which are numerous) I’d like to share this quote from the Carr website:

"I once heard it said that there is no such thing as an accidental American. That we are, all of us, citizens by conscious choice. Of course it was a Frenchman who posited this, some self-proclaimed modern philosopher on one of the political discussion shows on France 2, so I’ve always taken the theory with a grain of salt. After all, to be an American has never been my choice. I was raised in Lebanon and have lived most of the rest of my life in Europe. I’ve claimed France as my home and chosen the one profession in which these things can be changed. I’m my own universal consulate. I can whip out any decent passport in a matter of hours.

If anything, I am a mongrel, the daughter of a father who was, himself, a drifter and a con-man. My mother was a half-breed with French and Maronite parentage and an Arabic name. A woman whose own country had been stitched together by naive outsiders to form an optimistic whole."

I could go on and on about all her books (most of which I've been fortunate enough to have autographed! But I don't want to make this post overly long! :) )

If you’re looking to write in first person, if you want some great examples of how to craft a first person perspective that has your audience gobbling every word, devouring every page, and starving for more, read Jenny Siler aka Alex Carr.

And if you do want to read her, pick one of her many novels and get it read by Tuesday April 21st because Jenny is celebrating the release of her first non-fiction book, “The Art of the Heist: Confessions of a Master Art Thief, Rock-and Roller and Prodigal Son” because….

SHE WILL BE HERE!!

OMG! Jenny Siler is going to be on my blog next Tuesday to celebrate the launch of her book and answer questions. As she’ll be busy with other commitments early in the day (it is the launch of her book) she’ll be by later on, but she is coming and I’m so stoked that y’all will get a chance to meet with her!

I hope you’ll make her visit at my blog the warmest and best time she’s ever had on a blog ;) I’m even going to be giving away a very special gift during the event so don’t miss out!

Warmly,
Jenny :)

Thrashing Friday Fun!

Good Morning Everyone! :)

I have an AWESOME contest this week! You'll want to spread the word over the weekend so everyone has a chance to win.

Here are the rules: Find home videos of the sickest, most crazy skateboarding moments you can and post the link here in the comments. Your own videos, home movies of your friends or family, or any internet video that you can find that shows someone either wiping out, or blowing everyone away--doesn't matter. The one that makes me and the family here go "HOLY COW!" loudest wins! :)

You have until Monday morning when I make the announcement to spread the word and get everyone in on this fantastic contest :)

What are the prizes? Well, take a look!

A Tony Hawk skull shirt (sizes S-XXL)

And!



Tony Hawk's Autobiography--purchased from Tony Hawk's Official Site which will enter you into his monthly contest to WIN an autographed Tony Hawk skateboard deck!

Even if you're not a skater, if you know a person who is, or who would love to have the shirt, the book and a chance to win the deck, take a few minutes and submit a link to a thrashin' video!

I look forward to watching all those great stunts!

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Doubtfire and Demons

(Imagine kindly old Mrs. Doubtfire, sitting in her chair by the fire, a nice big book in her manly lap.)

Good morning boys and girls, today we're going to discuss the finer points of DE-mon PO-ssess-ion! Yes indeedy! Nothing finer on an April morn than a good ol' fashioned tale of...

!!!!LAMASHTU!!!!

Now isn't she a lovely lass? Yes, this lovely demon traveled the world, jet setting from one birthing mother to another to deliver her wicked brand of good ol' demon fun. Oh my, yes. Let's not forget either, her bloodlust for children of any age, including those that had yet to be spanked by the good doctor in the delivery room.

When she isn't busy keeping the fine funeral vendors rolling in the green, she enjoys long walks through rivers and lakes, turning them to cesspools of disgusting disease. For a nice dinner, Lamashtu enjoys a splendid young man paired with fine red blood. To finish off her feast, she often chooses a serving of death and disease.

Back in her girlhood, Lamashtu's father, Anu--a very respected sun god from Mesopotamia--said early on that his young daughter was beyond control. She was the original rebel, doing as she pleased without the blessings of the gods. As you can imagine, this did not suit them well at all.

And do you know what the gods did, boys and girls?

Why they sent their fierce warrior Pazuzu to protect women and children. (I imagine they believed young men could take care of themselves, though I wouldn't want a boy of mine to cross such a heinous lady as Lamashtu!) Poor Pazuzu was saddled with the burden of bringing drought and famine. Perhaps this was a means of filtering out frivolous summonings from mankind.

Of course there was that dreadfully frightening movie "The Exorcist" where dear Pazuzu was cast as a possessor of children. Imagine how offensive that must have been. All these centuries protecting our young only to be cast as a nefarious villain? For shame.

Now let me read to you this lovely passage:


Great is the daughter of Heaven who tortures babies
Her hand is a net, her embrace is death
She is cruel, raging, angry, predatory
A runner, a thief is the daughter of Heaven
She touches the bellies of women in labor
She pulls out the pregnant women’s baby
The daughter of Heaven is one of the Gods, her brothers
With no child of her own.
Her head is a lion’s head
Her body is a donkey’s body
She roars like a lion
She constantly howls like a demon-dog.

Wonderful, isn't it? This is a Mesopotamian incantation against Lamashtu. Remember this should you happen across her as she travels the world. I hear she'll be at by Barclay Hall, a very respectable reformatory school for young ladies. (A fitting destination for the original lady rebel!) I understand Kaylee Hensler is being sent there for vandalism--in a graveyard on Halloween no less. Do join me in praying for Kaylee's soul. She will need every good wish we can send her. (Crime never pays!)

That brings us to the end of our story hour this fine Thursday. I hope you enjoyed this thrilling tale and learned a thing or two about Lamashtu!

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Details brought to you courtesy of Wikipedia

Writing Wednesday: Narrative Distance

Good Morning Everyone!! :)

Mick Jagger is singing "Sympathy for the Devil" in my earbuds at 7:00 a.m. this morning. Why is this important to this blog? Well, because if we wanted a reader to have sympathy for the devil, we'd need to understand the technique of narrative distance.

What exactly is narrative distance? It's how close or far away our writing is from the character. In first person writing, we have an extreme sense of narrative closeness because the whole narrative is coming directly from the character. In omniscient, we have the opposite extreme because none of the narration comes from within the character.

Seems simple, right? Nope. Not at all. Writing from a close narrative takes a lot of practice, concentration, focus--and acting ability. The author needs to be the character in order to create narrative closeness. This can be especially tricky to maintain when you have a few characters in a scene. Here are some things you can do to create narrative closeness:

1) Borrow vernacular. Study the way people talk from the place or setting your characters are living in and from where they come from. Someone from Wisconsin is going to sound very different than someone from Texas. East coast and West coast sound very different. This isn't about accents, it's about language.

Texas: I carried my mom up to the Circle K to get some coke.
Wisconsin: I drove my mom up the Kwik Trip to buy soda.

If you're unaware of how someone speaks from the area, or want to familiarize yourself with that vernacular, google videos and documentaries on the net where they interview the local people. For instance, when I was writing about the Inuit, I watched many home movies from the area--sometimes right before I started writing so I could correctly channel the sound, texture and pattern of their words.

Of course, this is one of those reasons why new writer's are told to "write what you know" time and again. Anyone who's a fan of Stephen King know how people in Maine speak and your readers should walk away knowing the difference in your character's language.

2) Gender specific language: Men and women think and speak differently than each other. Men have a tendency not to mince their words--which often makes them sound abrupt even when they don't mean to. Women tend to pad their language with extra words meant to set people at ease. Of course there are always exceptions and an author can deliberately switch out the language for the gender in order to convey a more feminine male or masculine female, depending on their needs.

Men are "fixers" by human nature. They listen intently with an ear for how to solve problems. Women are more "healers" and listen intently with an ear for how they can make the person feel better. This does NOT mean that women aren't into problem solving (they are!) and it doesn't mean that men don't want to offer comfort (they do!) It means that their approach to another person's upset is different. Men believe they are offering comfort by helping to solve the problem and women believe they are helping solve the problem by comforting the person.

Read up on the psychology of each gender if you're having difficulty writing from the gender opposite your own.

3) It's in the Details: Or in the case of writing, it's in the descriptions. A soldier might look at a sunset and think it resembles Napalm, a poet housewife will see it as a dying bloom of gold on the horizon. No two characters should see their environment in the exact same way (unless it's sci-fi and they're clones ;)) Character-specific observations are important and they need to come from the emotional place the character is in as well as their personality. An optimist will see the glass half-full, the pessimist, half-empty. Know your character and how they'll respond.

How to test your writing:

Take a random few paragraphs of narrative in third person and switch it to first person.

Does it still sound like the character?
Does it sound like it comes from the correct gender?
Are the details related to the character's experience?
Are word choices ones the character would use?

Here are a few links for further reading:

Decoding Narrative Distance by Dave King
(Exceptionally awesome and understandable information)

Narrative Distance from the blog of Jennifer R. Hubbard
(Excellent example of three narrative distances in this one.)

The Mechanic of the Introspection Fiction-Writing Mode by Mike Klaassen
(Great 4 Part Article at Helium)

Any thoughts or questions? I'll be around all day to help with further explanations or to absorb what you have to offer on the subject :)

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Milli Thornton and Fear of Writing: Talent Tuesday!

Good Morning everyone :)

I can't think of any person I'd love more to showcase on our very first Talent Tuesday than Milli Thornton. She single-handedly pulled me from the brink of despair and encouraged me to keep going no matter how horribly I felt about my abilities or my goals.

As many of you know, being a writer isn't easy, especially if you're not published. There are people who don't understand the time you spend working on your manuscript. In fact, if you had an office like me, holing up of 8 hours (or more) a day in your basement to type away on a computer seems pretty kooky to those folks who don't even read or never understood the artistic drive. I don't blame them--that sort of drive (to work for no money) isn't something our society touts as admirable.

I attended a writer's chat--not even sure where now, I had stumbled across the announcement. A published author was going to be taking questions from writers--how could I resist? I never expected to spend half the night bawling like some dummy! Milli has that effect on people--no, not to make them cry :) But to really get in touch with their emotions so they can overcome those obstacles holding them back.

And that was exactly where I was: facing an obstacle that was holding me back. Someone had commented on my writing that I didn't have a unique voice, that I sounded too much like my favorite authors and that mimicking them made me a sad second. Yes, that doesn't seem like much today, but ten years ago, I was very frustrated and had begun to question if I was even smart enough to figure this all out.

Along came Milli :)

Not only did she listen to me, but she encouraged me and when she couldn't answer my question as in depth as she wanted in the chat, asked me to email her privately when it was over. There are some people you just instantly click with, some people who speak your language and have the second half to your half and together you make a whole. Milli was like that for me, and I truly was not surprised to discover how aswesome her book, "Fear of Writing" was for me and many others.

I know some of y'all have seen her book showcased on my blog before, but I've never dedicated a whole blog post entirely to her and of all the people I've met in this writing life, I can undoubtedly say she deserves as many accolades as possible. Not only did she take me under her wing and help strengthen my belief in my own abilities, but she does time and time again for authors everywhere. Her entire career is carved out the desire to be encouraging, comforting and uplifting to writers of every type and stripe.

Fear of Writing is a collection of short stories and writing prompts called "Fertile Material." Those prompts got me over many a blank page when I was trying to make my way into the short story genre, and the short story "Jack's House" saved me from a nasty bout of writer's block after 911. She and I have become close friends over the years and I count her as a very special person I'm lucky to know.

If ever you struggle, if ever you faced writer's block, if ever you needed encouragement, I can't recommed her book enough. When 911 happened, I was targeting Harlequin/Silhouette and writing romantic suspense. The horror of that tragic day left me feeling like those hours I spent in my basement were a waste of time and the love stories I created were silly, childish, and had about as much purpose as hand-painted toiletpaper.

When I read "Jack's House" about a woman who felt much the same way as I did at the time, asking herself, "Why write at all?" I never expected by the end of the story that I'd be--yes, again!--bawling like a dummy :) From that moment on, I realized that it didn't matter so much what I wrote (though that is part of it) as much as it mattered that I didn't squander my talents (or as they say biblically 'bury' them) and made good use of what the good Lord had given me. (Or fate, or mother nature, or genetics, or answered my calling--however you want to phrase that.)

So I encourage everyone to visit Fear of Writing at http://www.fearofwriting.com/ read the information there and if you believe this book can help you like it did me, get the book and email Milli, let her know how it helped you. My respect for her began in the chat room, grew when I read her book, and blossomed when we became friends.

Do you have a particular story about a book that saved you in some way? Maybe it was a book of financial, marital, or relationship advice? Maybe it was a how-to book that helped you leap a hurdle and accomplish your goals? I'd love to create a lovely long list of books in the comments here for everyone to refer to over time, so please leave a comment if you have a title or an author you'd like to share :) And of course, your personal experience ;)

Warmly,
Jenny:)

And the Winner is....

Shredder!! :) Head over to Michael's MySpace profile and congratulate him, if you wish :)

This is a free for all Saturday and I thought it would be great to open up the blog for everyone to share what they're reading today :)

Today, I'm actually re-reading a favorite of mine. "Justice Incarnate" by Regan Black. This was the first Echelon full-length book I read in print and I was blown away by the story. It's an absolutely intriguing tale about a woman, Jaden Michaels, who's been reincarnated time and again to slay a demon, or face dying a horrible death--which has happened for the century she's been trying to kill him.

What I really, really loved about this book was how real Regan Black made the year 2096 for me. Not just the technology, but the differences in the societal norms between my time and this future. This, I think, was the first 'awakening' I had an as author to the possibilities of creating a believable universe. Not because I hadn't read other books that do the same thing, but because this combined everything I love about fiction--and I read it at a time when I was deeply consumed with the study of the craft. At this point, I was working so hard to make every detail of my books be absolutely accurate--the idea that I could change that reality in the way Black did, was something I found thrilling.

Aside from that, though, all by itself it's an awesome read! :)

I'm nearly finished with this book (and loving it all over again) and have two other books waiting in the wings. Invasion of Justice, the second book in the Shadows of Justice series from Regan Black, and Immortal Bride by Lisa Childs, a book in the Nocturne line by Silhouette. (Here's the trailer.) I'm intrigued by this paranormal romance category and wonder if I might try my hand at putting my old favorite (romance) together with my newly discovered passion (paranormal) somewhere down the road.

Okay, so what are you reading? If you're not reading today, or between books, what would you like to be reading now? Maybe your interest will be a book someone else has read and they can let you know if the book did or didn't live up to its hype ;)

Enjoy your Saturday and be thankfurl Birds Don't Read!! :)
Warmly,
Jenny:)

New Blog Schedule

Hello everyone ;)

As many of you know, I’m under doctor’s orders to *destress my life as much as possible. This has led me on a campaign to get organized and map out my days to achieve the most productive outcomes possible.

One of those areas that’s been difficult for me is maintaining my blogs. Oh, I’ve got lots to say and lots to share and lots I want to do, but half the time I’m struggling to figure out when, what, and how I want to do all that. So, I’ve decided to create a schedule for my blogs:

Monday: Maybe—maybe not. This will be my free-for-all day in which I can post whatever is needed or wanted, but I may take a break on this day as I find Monday’s can be a bit overwhelming for me.

Tuesday: Tuesday is now Talent Tuesday. On this day I’ll be discussing other authors, what I’ve gained from reading them, or showcasing an interview with another author. (I also plan on having y’all submit questions to ask these authors.)

Wednesday: Writer Wednesday: this is the day I’ll be offering advice and tips and tricks of the trade. On this day will be the query and excerpt critiques I’ve offered in the past. (Such as the Hook Critique—first three paragraphs, etc.)

Thursday: Is now Thursday Thrills. This is where I’ll be sharing information about what I’m working on, which happens to be my YA horror Extreme Hauntings series. I will also be sharing genre-related information and updates on when books are coming out, reviews, and open calls for collaborations ;)

Friday: You guessed it: Fun Friday! From here on out, every Friday will feature a fun contest of some kind with varying degrees of prizes. From Amazon gift certificates, book thongs (of course! ;)) downloads and print books.
(I'm a day late posting here, so the contest this Friday is on my MySpace blog and you don't want to miss it! Great gift for the winner!)


Weekends will be an anything goes—socializing, chatting and all around getting to know each other ;)

I hope y’all enjoy this plan!

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Cyber Walk Down Memory Lane

I figured that someone out there might be curious about my journey from wanting to write a novel, to where I am today. This is sort of a cyber-walk down memory lane :)

1) The first place of any real signifigance I joined to learn the craft of writing was Writer's Village University. There I met a wonderful group of women, though my Aunt Beth, who were my sisters for the first five years of my writing life. We went through much together and I still consider them the writing sisters of my heart.
Writer's Village University

2) From there, I branched out, and joined Charlotte Dillon's Romance Writer's Community, which is a fabulous website and email list. Their critique exchange helped me tremendously.
Romance Writer's Community

3) About a year into my first novel, I met a wonderful woman in a chat. Milli Thornton. She encouraged me tremendously, helped me get through a very rocky issue with my writing confidence, and eventually hired me to create her online writing course based on her exceptionally helpful book, Fear of Writing.
Fear of Writing

4) I struggled tremendously with self-editing and joined the Adult Creative Writer's Club. Their monthly contest was a real eye opener for me and when I finally--finally!!!--won that contest, I was over the moon! Having your writing judged annonymously by so many writers is truly a test of your skill and helped me learn what my strengths were, and where I truly needed to develop my craft.
Adult Creative Writer's Club

5) RWA contests, where I got detailed judges reports from more than one person, and then eventually went on to win one, gave me the industry insight I needed to understand the romance novel and how to write in that genre.
Romance Writer's of America

6) This last is a sort of no-brainer, but I have to add it because as a self-taught author, I spent legions of hours here: the library. While we were still a struggling young family, I coldn't afford much and all these wonderful writing books people recommended to me would have been out of my reach if it weren't for my public library. The research I did for each of my books there still saves me a mint on technical and/or informational books. (Such as using their college texts on genetics to create the basis for my werewolf novel.)

I hope some of you all will maybe check out one or two of these places and see if there's something that they might help you with as well. While I've been a member of many great places, like WRWA and online forums that helped tremendously, the above list is where I did the bulk of my growing as an author.

Do you have a fond memory of somewhere you began that you'd like to share? Or maybe someplace that is important to you today? If so, share them in the comments as I'd love us all to wallow in positivity today! *GRIN*

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Good and Bad News

First, the bad news, because I always like to end on a positive note :) As many of you know I was ill at the end of last week. Well, I went to the doctor today because while I was back on my feet, I never fully recovered.
It turns out that the stress I'm under is effecting my health. I was prescribed medication and told to lighten my load. So, I've decided that I'm going to postpone the workshop I planned for this weekend until the medication I'm taking begins to work and I'm back 100%. I hope everyone will understand and not be too disappointed. I will do this soon, just not yet.
Now to the good news! :)
I heard from Marc Vun Kannon, who is a fabulous writer himself, that he picked up my book, DFF: Dead Friends Forever at the SC Book Festival. He wrote: "I have been reading the latest books from Echelon, in particular DFF: Dead Friends Forever, and I've started Witch's Pawn. DFF is a stunningly good book, by far Jenny Turner's best book yet!"

I was over the moon!! What a compliment to come out of the blue like that, from someone I was always dying to hear enjoyed one of my books in that way :) He went on to say that he began reading it in a hotel room and actually got the heebie-jeebies because it was that spooky! :) He compared it to Buffy the Vampire Slayer, but with a darker edge, like Angel and then ordered extra for a library event he's going to.
How cool is that??
You can check out more about Marc Vun Kannon here:
http://www.marcvunkannon.com/


Okay, just wanted to share and I hope that everyone is having a fantastic week! :)

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Quick and Easy Contest

My blog at Teen Seen today includes a fun and easy giveaway! Head on over right now to be entered to win :) It only takes a minute, and hey, you never know, I might choose a few winners rather than just one *wink* *wink* :)

See ya there!!

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Today I'm sharing the first chapter of the second book in the Extreme Hauntings series. This follows directly the end of DFF: Dead Friends Forever.

Let me know what you think or if you have any questions about the series! :)

Warmly,
Jenny:)

School's Out 4Ever
by J.R. Turner


Chapter One

The car slowed, waking Kaylee from her doze. Heavy traffic clogged the highway as they drew closer to Duluth. Her dad played a CD of some old guy who sang about a shark with pearly teeth, making the big fish sound as dangerous as Spongebob Squarepants. A dense fog drifted across the St. Louis River like huge rolling cotton lit by the early evening city lights. Damp, misty air made those lights prism on her wet window. The wipers beat a slow, steady rhythm to clear the condensation. No wonder she’d fallen asleep.

She yawned and stretched, then laid her forehead against the cool glass. How good it felt to sleep without nightmares. Real life was the nightmare now. Just a few weeks ago nothing truly bad had ever happened to her. Pretty good for a girl going on fifteen. Never saw a pet run over by a car, never got beaten up by anyone, had an okay time in school, and her parents were mostly supportive.

Well, until she told them she was seeing ghosts, demons and angels. Funny how that worked. One minute they’re cheering for her on the soccer field and at swim meets the next they’re packing her off to a boarding school for wayward girls. So what if her dad worked it out so she wouldn’t go to Lincoln Hills juvenile detention facility for grave robbing? That didn’t give him to give up on her like some game system stuck on the red ring of death.

Get over it and stop moping, Reason, the little voice in the back of her head said.

Kaylee thought, Yeah, right, hold on a sec while I get happy.

Maybe leaving everything you’ve ever known and going to a place a zillion miles from your best friend was fun for some people, but given the choice, she would have preferred ingrown toenails. And that meant something coming from her because if she couldn’t skate, couldn’t run on the field, couldn’t snowboard, then she might as well become a nun or something.

But only if I wouldn’t have to wear a dress all the time.

She wasn’t a tomboy, though, not like most people thought. No way would she ever flat out say she loved pink, even if it was her favorite color. Yet she was interested in make-up, admired girls in her class with cool streaks in their hair and who knew how to dress. And that was the whole problem. She could lead her team in goals, ollie high on her board or kick total butt at a swim meet, but put on mascara or get the stupid nail polish not to drip down the side of her toe? That might as well have been rocket science.

Her father put the blinker on and merged left as they neared a bridge shrouded in thickening fog. A horn sounded behind them and he shouted at the rearview mirror, “Up yours!”

“Max!” her mother, Diane, said in surprise. She lowered her voice. “You’re setting a bad example.”

“No, dear,” he said, voice. “If some guy hogs the road, ignores our daughter’s blinker, and then honks at her, I want her to express her anger in a healthy way. Shouting where no one can hear you is healthy.”

“But we can hear you. Do you want her to yell like that in front of her children?”
He didn’t answer and the silence was almost worse than his anger.

Kaylee wanted to roll her eyes, but didn’t. With her luck, her father would see it in the rearview mirror. Max Hensler was a shrink (though she couldn’t call him that to his face or he’d go ballistic.) He never missed an opportunity to evaluate every second of every day—not just at work, but with his family too. How many days had she sat down to dinner only to be psychoanalyzed on the spot? Or how often did she get called into his office and grilled about the most embarrassing stuff? She’d rather face down the Waukesha Blasters on the soccer field than answer another question.

Life is not a spectator sport.

Mrs. Mead, her homeroom teacher had that hung on her wall back in Marsden. Every day she read it, not because she wanted to, but because she sat directly across from the Jackie Robinson poster it was written on. She stared at it when she was bored, which was most of the time. That wasn’t the full quote, and you’d think she’d remember all of it but no matter how she wracked her brain, she couldn’t recall the rest.

I’m just lucky to still be sane, not complaining about a little loss of memory here, Fate or God or whoever listens to this sort of thing.

The sound of the tires changed as they hit the new pavement of the bridge, transmitting the empty space beneath. The fog steadily thickened, oozing between the steel beams. She had the eerie sense something ahead wanted to hide, to keep her from knowing its presence. In her parka, she shivered and forced the thoughts out of her head. That stuff had gotten her in too much trouble already.

Her parents already believed she was having hallucinations and injuring herself on purpose. Which was really dumb. She bet they already talked about how they could keep her from passing on her crazy gene to their future grandchildren. Maybe it would be better if it was a crazy gene. Better than being a witch.

She couldn’t really be a witch, could she? Those were all just made up stories, right?
That’s what I used to think about ghosts.

Her father cursed at a slow driver and merged into the right lane. Her stomach flipped all on its own. He slowed as did the cars all around them as the fog made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. She clutched the handle on the door, clenched her jaw, held her breath.

“Mom?” Her voice cracked.

A distant rumbling came from the opposite side of the St. Louis River. Brakes squealed loudly beside her. Kaylee jumped. Tears pricked her eyes and she asked again, “Mom?”

Her mother glanced back, then around, her forehead wrinkled with worry and a nervous hand on her throat. “Max, maybe we should pull over? Wait it out?”

The wall of fog shifted and the whole world went white. The car died, the old guy stopped singing and the heating vents went quiet. Her father turned the key. A faint click, then nothing.

“What happened?” her mother asked.

“I don’t know.” He tried again, nothing. “Great. Just great. Now we’ll never get there in time. Since traffic isn’t moving, maybe someone out here can give me a jump.”

The rumbling grew louder.

“Hurry,” her mother begged. “I don’t like this.”

“Shh,” he said, unmoving, his head tilted down. “Do you hear that?”

Kaylee ran a dry tongue over dry lips and closed her eyes.

It’s coming.

It’s coming.

Oh God no, not again, she thought. Not again.

Something smacked the window by her face and a high-pitched squeak escaped her. She dodged back reflexively, hands coming up to protect her face as she searched for the threat. The glass was clean. Nothing and no one stood on the side.

“Honey?” Her mother asked. “Kaylee, you okay? Max, we can’t just sit here.”

“Be quiet. Do you hear that?”

The rumble turned into an oncoming roar. Kaylee covered her ears. Her mother cocked her head as if the sound was too faint for her to hear.

Please don’t let this happen again. Her heart knocked heavy in her chest. Half expecting the bridge to collapse with everyone on it, she dared a glance ahead.

A little boy stood in the middle of the road. She bit her lip, hard. If her parents heard the scream bubbling in her throat they’d send her to the mental hospital in Chester for sure. She closed her eyes tight.

Go away.

Go away.

She opened her eyes. The roar filled her head, vibrated in her molars. He stared at her through the windshield. His dark hair was cut short and he wore a plain button-up shirt and brown pants. His eyes…

Oh Jesus…

They glinted with a red animal shine of evil. Pasty skin pulled tight across his skull made angular points of his cheekbones. A manic glee danced in eyes staring from sunken sockets.

“What is that? Is there an accident up there?” Her mother’s voice trembled.

“I think so. I can’t see through the fog.” He spoke quietly, still listening.

They just sat there, as if the fog would clear and everything would go back to normal. They couldn’t see the ghost and couldn’t hear that unbelievable roar that made Kaylee want to press herself so far into the seat she ended up in the trunk.

The ghost boy smiled at her, exposing baby white teeth in a pitch black mouth. His lips spread, extending the grin to impossible proportions, then in a flash, he disappeared.

In the same instant, a station wagon in southbound traffic flew across the concrete median. Kaylee heard her mother scream and felt pain in her throat from her own. The wagon T-boned the blue Honda in front of them—a moving grenade of roaring engine and explosive steel. The impact shoved the Honda into their Saturn. Her head snapped back and forth hard, teeth coming down on her tongue.

She screamed again and braced herself on the seat. Twisted metal screeched, the chaos of shattering glass erupted all around her. The back tires of the Saturn hit the wall of the bridge and stopped with a shudder. Something popped and hissed. Steam mingled with the fog, blended, hid the carnage the wagon had left in its wake.

“Diane? Are you okay?” Her father reached for his wife who nodded, eyes wide and wet. Before she could speak, someone screamed near the Honda. The sound morphed into the noise of skidding tires unable to stop. It grew in volume and Kaylee struggled with her seatbelt, ready to run, to get out of the way of whatever was coming next.

Her father looked in the mirror. “Oh, Jesus.”

Kaylee looked back. A jackknifed semi shoved cars ahead of it, forcing them into one another. The Saturn shivered with the bang of every collision.

“Max…” her mother said hoarsely.

Then the car behind them, the driver shouting in pain, rammed into the back of their car and Kaylee shrieked and grasped for anything and everything. The nose of their already damaged car went up the side of the retaining wall that kept cars from falling into the river far below. The windshield shattered as the frame twisted and the bottom scraped along the concrete.

“Max!” Her mother shouted, leaning toward him as the car tilted.

The semi finally stopped. A horn blared constantly somewhere. All around, people cried out and shouted for help. The Saturn creaked and groaned, half on and half off the retaining wall. Kaylee whimpered, afraid a scream would unbalance them and send them over.

Her father grabbed her mom’s hands and pulled her across to him. The car pitched toward the road, throwing Kaylee against her own door. “Hold on,” her father yelled. “Just hold on. Don’t move.”

“Max, we have to get out of the car.” Her mother breathed hard, her voice trembling with panic.
“Shh. Just sit tight. We’ll get out of here. Give me a second to figure this out. You okay back there, Kaylee?”

She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her and cleared her throat. “I’m okay.”

But she wasn’t, not really. A big part of her had hoped that when she left Marsden the craziness of ghosts and demons would be left behind as well. Somehow, this was all her fault. If she hadn’t been on the bridge…

Through the dissipating fog, the semi-driver’s door shrieked as he opened it and hopped down. He wobbled on unsteady legs, then found his balance and hurried toward them.

Her father must have seen him too because he said, “Okay. Help’s coming. It’s going to be all right.”

He didn’t sound convinced though as a high gust of wind shook the Saturn. Kaylee hissed a frightened gasp between her teeth, pressing herself harder against the far door to keep the Saturn heavy on the bridge side.

“Everyone okay in there?” The trucker, his bald head pink and ears turning red from the cold yelled into her father’s window.

“We’re shook up, but okay.”

“I’ll get you out of there. Just hold on.” He grasped the door handle and yanked, but even Kaylee could feel it wouldn’t budge. Her father’s door had been shoved in and bent closed.

The trucker gave up and moved to the front. “Can you climb out the window?”

Her father shifted to support her mother so she could make a try, but the Saturn leaned precariously toward the river.

Her mother screamed.

“No, we can’t move or we’ll…” he paused. “We can’t move.”

“Okay,” the trucker said, disappeared and then appeared by her door next. “Sit tight kid, we’ll get you out.”

Her door didn’t want to open either, though she couldn’t see where it had been damaged. Please, get me out of here! She didn’t speak, couldn’t find her voice. Trembling, she worried that something more than damage kept her door closed. Were they trying to kill her? The boy and whatever that roaring noise had been?

“I’ll be right back.” He dodged around the end of another car. Sirens rang in the distance.
In the eerie quiet, her father whispered, “He’ll come back. Help’s coming. It’s going to be okay.”

No one moved. The wind gusted again, coming in through the busted windshield. The tears on Kaylee’s face turned icy, her hands went numb. The wait seemed to last forever, but the man reappeared at her window, a tire-iron in his hand.

He yelled at her through the glass. “Turn away, cover your face.”

She started to do as he asked, but the car shifted and she stifled a scream, freezing in place. When it settled, she carefully moved her coat up to cover her head. The window broke with a loud pop. A hand fell on her shoulder.

“It’s okay. Come on out now.” He spoke softly.

She put a hand on the back of her father’s seat to boost herself out, but halted as metal ground on the retaining wall. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Here,” he pushed on the roof of the car, forcing it down a mere half inch. “I won’t let go. Come on out.”

Kaylee nodded and when she moved again, the car stayed fairly steady. Careful not to cut herself on the safety glass, she was surprised to find a circle of people watching. One lady ran forward and helped steady her. “Just lean on me.”

Kaylee did, gratefully. As soon as her feet touched down though, she turned back. “My parents…”

Already her mother had slid back, working carefully into Kaylee’s seat.

The woman tried to hold Kaylee back, but she shrugged her off and rushed forward to help her mom.

“Kaylee,” her mother asked even before she was all the way out. “You’re all right?”
She could only nod as fire trucks, police cruisers and ambulances arrived. With their arms around each other, she and her mother watched the trucker work harder to hold the car steady now that Kaylee and her mother’s weight weren’t helping.

Her father started to move, and the entire weight shifted, lifting the trucker off his feet. He cried out even as her dad shouted for help.

“Dad!” Kaylee cried, her voice raw.

“Oh my, God,” her mother said, sobbing against the back of her hand.

A group of four men, all wearing Green Bay Packer coats, gloves and hats, ran to assist. They added their weight to the back, holding the car down. “We got you, man! Come on!”

Pale, shaking, his glasses slipping down the slope of his nose, he scrambled backward and out the window in seconds. His weight on the door frame wedged the Saturn firmly onto the bridge.

Her mother broke away and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. Kaylee embraced them both and bawled into her mothers coat sleeve. “I’m so sorry…”

It’s all my fault…

All my fault.

They weren’t even all the way to school yet. If they were all nearly killed when they were still miles away, what would she find when she arrived? “I want to go home, Mom. I want to go home.”

Interview with Regan Black!

I'm excited to have one of my favorite authors here today! Regan Black is an awesome writer. I loved her Justice Incarnate series tremendously. She has a wonderful new series: The Pixie Chicks and I'm so thrilled she'll be here with us today! :)





1. How did you first become interested in writing?

Reading. I read all the time, even with a flashlight under the covers when I was supposed to be sleeping. (Still do.) I read all kinds of things from Anne McCaffrey's fantasy world of Pern to sweet teen romances. Being well read, having a true love of reading, made English and literature classes easier and I must have shown an aptitude for writing because all my teachers thought I should go into journalism.

2. Do you use an outline or write by the seat of your pants?

I'm a pantser. I've tried outlining and pre-writing and actual plotting, whatever you'd like to call it, but at the heart of it, I just sit down and let the story lead me. I've learned to use a rough guideline and notes to keep me on track, but I love the rush of a new discovery. Sadly, this makes for more time in revisions, but I'm happier and more productive when I'm not fighting my natural process. According to Deb Dixon (author of Goal, Motivation, and Conflict) I'm also a quilter, which means I'll often write parts of the story out of order and piece them together in the rewrites. In July, one of my critique partners (a die-hard plotter) and I will be giving an online class for the LowcountryRWA chapter on the topic of Pantsing vs. Plotting - I guarantee that will be one riot of a classroom.

3. What inspired your latest plot?

The Pixie Chicks, my young adult series of short stories was inspired by my own high school years with the marching band and the social whirl that went with it. When I was a kid it was still pretty safe to walk around town with friends at night (though the pterodactyl patrol could be pesky) so that's often what we did. I cringe to think my own kids would do that now (my parental prerogative.) One of the places we found was this huge old garden full of statuary, hedge mazes, etc. and we'd dare each other into games of hide and seek. None of the statues were actual portals, but our vivid imaginations gave us thrills aplenty.

4. How many books do you think will be in the series?

As many as Quake wants to put out there. These shorts are fast and fun to write and I love the characters more with every misadventure. Writing Pixies is a great outlet, especially when I'm working on longer books, because it's an affirmation that I can make it from a beginning, through the middle, to a great The End.

5. Where can readers purchase your book? Links to share?

YA Pixies are available at Quake (http://www.quakeme.com) and fictionwise

My full length adult thrillers Justice Incarnate and Invasion of Justice are available from Echelon Press (http//:www.echelonpress.com) as well as fictionwise, Amazon.com and Justice Incarnate is available at Kindle. (Invasion is coming soon to Kindle, as are the Pixies)

Readers can meet me on my blog at: http://www.regansrealm.blogspot.com
Or learn all sorts of Regan trivia at http://www.reganblack.com
I'm a regular contributor to the Quake Teen-seen blog too: http://teen-seen.blogspot.comThey can follow me on twitter: http://twitter.com/ReganBlack
and Myspace is more for the adult stuff but I'm there http://www.myspace.com/reganblack
I also write articles on greyhounds too for http://www.associatedcontent.com look for the Regan Black byline.

Thanks Jenny!



Thanks so much to you too, Regan! :) It's truly a great blessing that you'll be here to respond to comments and questions during the day! Thank you tons for that as well!!


Warmly,
Jenny:)

Confessions of a Chocoholic

When I do interviews, speak at conferences and schools, or am asked questions at a book signing, a lot of the time what folks ask about is "how" I write. Sometimes it's about what time and day and for how long, other times it's whether or not I outline or wing it. Most, however, don't ask me how I gain the stamina to write three books, edit two books, edit shorter works, market and promote, blog and interact on social networking sites or participate in other online communities--all in one day.

(Not to mention meeting the demands of motherhood and being the head of the household while hubby is driving cross country as a truck driver.)

Now I know a lot of folks joke about how much they love chocolate. I know I've talked about this recently before, but it truly is how I make it through my days. Dark chocolate, Ferrera Rocher, Hershey's Pot of Gold truffle collection, Dove dark chocolate, Mounds bars, Resees Peanut Butter cups, Kit Kat bars--all of these are my coworkers :)

Coffee compliments the chocolate perfectly, btw ;)

I'm not saying that I eat it all day, every day, but it's a great motivator. "When I finish that chapter." "When I finish the outline." "When I find the answer to this research question." "When I send back the completed critique." "When the book is edited." These are all moments to celebrate with chocolate and bring a little sweetness to my life.

So there you have it, my true confession about my love affair with chocolate. How do you make it through your days? Do you have little tricks to make sure you have the energy to meet all your obligations? To reward yourself for a job well done? (Or at least just done! :) )

Let me know how you make it through ;)

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Best Gift Ever

Hey everyone :) Sometimes, when looking through things I've written in the past, I find a little nugget that I wish had been shared--so today, I'm sharing this little true story I wrote:

The Best Gift Ever
By J.R. Turner

When I was a girl, I rode the bus to school and enjoyed the many sights, sounds and scents of the seasons from my perch on that high seat. For an hour every morning and afternoon, I would daydream about the places and people I saw. One such place was a second hand shop called “Amalia’s.” I thought the name beautiful and later, my grandmother told me her grandmother was named Amalia.

As a child of divorced parents and an increasingly divided family, I grew to love that name as I imagined my life, my future. Someday, I would find a good man and marry him. We would have a daughter and name her Amalia.

I met that wonderful man the year I graduated high school and married him three years later. Soon after, our first child came into this world. He was an adorable baby boy—but of course I couldn’t name him Amalia! I began dreaming of a little sister for him.

We tried for six years to have another child while we traveled cross country. My husband, a truck driver, took our little family everywhere. One of our favorite places was a small truck stop in southern Wisconsin that sold the best chocolate éclairs on the planet. We sometimes drove out of our way just to have one.
Every time I took that first bite, felt that unique chocolate on my tongue, tasted the heady mix of cream and sweet, I would sigh with pleasure and say, “Eating one of these makes it seem like everything is all right in the world.”

Those happy days faded into my son’s first school years. Unable to travel during the school year and with my husband gone from us more and more, getting pregnant seemed a far off dream. Still, we continued to try and when we finally did conceive, we were ecstatic. I was certain the baby would be a girl. My Amalia was finally on her way.

I started buying pink dresses, blankets, and anything with ruffles and bows. Smiling, I went about my daily chores, and it seemed that life couldn’t be better. Until my worst fear came true.

Carrying a load of laundry, I casually pushed a chair back into position and felt something give in my abdomen. I called my husband and he immediately came home to take me to the hospital. After hours of excruciating, heartbreaking pain, I lost the baby.

For weeks, the only time I smiled or felt joy, was in the presence of my growing boy. My love for him sustained me, but alone now, there were all too many hours to grieve for the daughter I didn’t have. Little by little I packed away the pink sleepers, blankets, and ruffled dresses I couldn’t bear to part with.

One evening, my husband returned from the road with a take-out box for me. I was surprised, as it seemed a strange gift—his leftovers from a truck stop? I opened it and discovered my favorite éclair. The sweet scent of that special chocolate tantalized me with the promise of making everything all right again. I laughed through my tears and kissed him. He had remembered my words, gone three hours out of his way, and brought me the second best gift ever.

The following year, we got the best gift ever. Our daughter Amalia was born on Mother’s Day. Today she is nine years old and loves our family's favorite eclairs as much as we do!
***

I hope you enjoyed seeing a little bit into my family life and learning a little bit about me, the love I have for my children--and of course the reason why all my author bio's mention chocolate ;)

Warmly,
Jenny:)

I've Been Honored!!

I was going to write, "I've been Quoted" in the subject line, but this is far more than that. It truly is an honor!

I got this forwarded to me (Chris Roerden didn't have my email address) in my email today:

"I quote a passage from her first book, STARK KNIGHT, in my 11th book, DON'T SABOTAGE YOUR SUBMISSION. Her passage includes a terrific example of one of the dozens of writing techniques this book editor analyzes: allusion."

This is such an honor! I am so thrilled. I met Chris at two different confrences and she is just fabulous. I had no idea she was going to do this. Wow! Very cool!!! Check out the book at this link:

www.snurl.com/25as7

Thanks so much, Chris!!!! :)

Warmly,
Jenny:)

Page 99 Test: My Biker Bodyguard

The Page 99 Test: My Biker Bodyguard

Hey everyone :)

If you’re familiar with “The Page 99 Test” you already know what this blog about today. A famous quote launched the whole test: “"Open the book to page ninety-nine and read, and the quality of the whole will be revealed to you." Ford Madox Ford

There is a wonderful blog devoted to just this test:
http://page99test.blogspot.com/

With Valentines Day heavy on my mind, I thought I’d post my page 99 from My Biker Bodyguard, my favorite romantic suspense novel:

Finally the announcement that boarding could begin eased them apart.

“I love you, darlin’.”

His wet cheeks undid her. She hitched a breath and her vision blurred. She hated crying, though she’d cornered the market on it the last few days. “I love you too, Daddy.”

He kissed her cheek and without wiping his face, he looked at Mitch down the length of his nose. “Anything happens to her…” He left the threat unfinished.

“Nothing will. I give you my word,” Mitch said solemnly. The weight of his vow hung in the air for a heartbeat, then he urged Jess forward.

Among the chorus of gruff farewells, Jess followed Mitch into the gate, Mordstrom and Davis converging behind her. When she turned back for a last glimpse of her father, her line of sight was blocked by the agents.

It was official. She was on her own. Away from home for the first time since she’d left foster care. Away from her father for the first time since he’d been released from prison. Away from everything she knew, loved and held dear. She was going to see a mother she didn’t know, someone so cold and distant to her, Jess couldn’t tell imagined memory from real memory.

In California she’d be alone. Her family would be strangers, the house wouldn’t be hers, the lifestyle utterly foreign. With her mother in a coma, it would be far from the joyous reunion she’d imagined in her secret heart. She wasn’t a fish out of water, but an alien on the wrong planet. She had no one.

Mitch placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her past the ticket takers and onto the plane. Down the aisle, his hand warm and safe and secure, behind her was a comfort. In all the craziness of the weekend, in the turmoil of the morning, she would never have expected to let herself want him. As they settled into their seats, she realized something unexpected.

She wasn’t alone, she had Mitch.
**
Now, only the reader can judge whether or not a page 99 excerpt passes the test or not. Personally, I think this fulfills the purpose of the quote as it shows the core of the story: the transition Jess makes from her comfortable normal world and into that of the unknown—a consequence of killing a hitman in broad daylight ;) I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

Warmly,
Jenny;)

Fifth Mistake, Recap and Exercise

We've covered the four initial mistakes:

1) Setting up the Emotional Punch
2) Over the Top Purplw Prose
3) Isolated Emotion
4) Writing Outside the Plot

Today we'll cover the fifth, and final mistake in our series on developing deep emotion in your writing:

Fifth Mistakes–Undermining the Finale

Be sure that you reserve the most emotionally difficult obstacle for the grand finale. Think back to the fireworks display–how much of the audience would stay for the whole show if the fireworks were lit in reverse order, beginning with the big bang and ending with a lone firework lighting up the sky?

Carefully crafted early emotional punches should end with a promise of the ultimate struggle yet to come. Delivering large, expansive emotionally explosive scenes early in the story leaves little room to develop suspense and tension and undermines the purpose of the plot, which usually means bringing the protagonist to a point of personal triumph as well as victory over the external plot elements.
Early scenes should never bring the character too close to the fulfillment of their personal quest or you run the risk of repeating and diluting emotion later on, or essentially end the character growth before the story is over.

Delivering Emotional Punch Essentials
We’ve discussed the many pitfalls of crafting emotional depth, but there are many exciting ways to convey the protagonists emotional journey.
Setting and Scenery:

One of the best ways is through setting and scenery. Have you ever traveled down a road that inspired homesickness? Have you ever been shopping and seen an item that reminded you of someone you loved? There are times in our lives that we’re unexpectedly overwhelmed with emotion. Analyzing what triggers this emotion in us is a terrific way to apply your own experiences to those of your characters.

The orchids in the earlier example are just one way to introduce an item which will emotionally impact the character. The options are limitless, but should always remain character specific.

Imagine our jaded inner-city police officer watching children cross the street on their way to school, and how he’s suddenly overwhelmed by the memory of the six-year-old child he mistakenly left with her abusive father, and who’s body was discovered two days later, beaten to death. This would be an excellent way to introduce a kidnapping plot.

Or perhaps it’s not a kidnapping plot, perhaps it’s a plot about police corruption and as he’s driving, he spots a cop from his division walking out of a strip club, brazenly counting pay-off money. The words the author chooses to use, words directly related to the character, will show the reader if the jaded officer is truly as jaded as he believes himself to be. In either case, the setting and scenery are instigators for the emotional punch–without them, the officer would feel isolated emotion demanding the need for a lengthy telling paragraph in order to explain these feelings.

Dreams and Memories:
A word of caution here–this is a very difficult technique to pull off. We all remember the waving images, accompanied by harp music that sent soap opera actors into a dream sequence or back in time. Avoid this type of dream and memory cliché at all costs or your work will be flagged as written by an amateur.
Often the dream or memory is haunting, either a nightmare or tragic recollection, or a blissful time before a single event that scarred the protagonist for life. By themselves, these memories and dream sequences appear as cheating, a quick way for the writer to entertain the reader by telling them what happened in the past.

Yes, I used the word telling here because so often, this technique is used instead of a fully developed plot thread. To show these dreams and memories correctly, the portion of the story they share should be shown throughout the previous sections of the work. Remember too, these should directly effect the goal of the scene and the purpose of the character’s journey.

Internal Thoughts and Monologue:
This is the most popular method of delivering emotional depth. Sharing with the reader directly what is happening inside the character is almost instinctual with a writer. Doing this correctly, however, takes some practice and some self-analyzing. Have you ever been in a situation where you were forced to lie, even if just to keep the peace or avoid hurting someone? Do your inner thoughts reflect an entire history of why you do this? Probably not. They likely reflect the truth you’re not willing to share.

Juxtaposing the inner needs, worries, and yes–frailties of a character with the outer actions, either courageous or seemingly cowardly, speaks volumes about the inner struggle of your protagonist and can often make them empathetic, despite how terrible their actions could appear. For instance, what makes Hannibal Lechter such an amazing character? He’s a psycho cannibal who feeds on human pain. But yet–he’s fascinating because he’s also very educated and puts Miss Manners to shame with his stringent abidance to etiquette. It’s this juxtaposition that makes him an emotionally compelling character.

Exercise:
Choose a highly charged emotion–rage, hilarity, grief, joy–and craft a few paragraphs that don’t once use any word that describes these emotions. Use inner thoughts, inner monologue, physical actions, and dialogue to convey compelling emotion a reader can empathize with.

Feel free to share your exercise in the comments. Also, if you like, you can pass these blogs on to anyone you think may find them helpful. I only ask that you include a link back to where you found them and my name as well ;)
Thanks so much everyone, for reading and supporting me! :)

Warmly,
Jenny:)

4th Mistake: Writing Outside the Plot

Fourth Mistakes–Writing Outside the Plot

Make every word, sentence, paragraph, scene, chapter count. Great storytellers never intrude with an emotional aside during the tale. Many new authors explode all over their first book with everything they’ve ever daydreamed, including the kitchen sink. Curbing that need to divulge all the very best of what they’ve fantasized writing is often a frustrating task. There is a simple way to choose what is and isn’t important to convey the story.

The work isn’t about the entire lives of these characters, it’s central to the one story you’re relating, the one moment that these characters are living. Imagine if Romeo and Juliet began when the two families fell out of favor with each other. There obviously would be ample room to include all of the story elements Shakespeare loved, but would it have been such a compelling tale? Romeo and Juliet is solely a story of tragic love. Decide what your story is solely about and set aside any elements that don’t directly connect to this theme for another work.

How is this connected to writing with emotional depth? Contrast is highly important to reaching emotional depth. If there are continuous tragedies, overwhelming grief and pain, without the joys of triumph, without the relief of humor, the story becomes so darkly focused the reader begins to wonder if the protagonists have any redeeming value, if they’re unable to feel happiness or even fight for their own success. Choose your obstacles wisely–they must directly reflect both plot and personal stakes in order to achieve empathy with the reader.

Writing with Deep Emotion: Third Mistake, Isolated Emotion

This week we've been discussing how to write with deep emotion. The first two were Setting up the Emotional Punch and Why Purple Prose Won't Work. Today we're going to take a look at Isolated Emotion.

Third Mistake–Isolated Emotion

Another difficulty with writing emotion comes from the internal desire of the author to detail the depth of emotion they themselves feel when crafting a high stakes scene. Many first drafts of those first novels are littered with emotional moments that seem not to have any real rhyme or reason. This is created by a lack of information, or wrong information, earlier in the story which leaves the reader feeling as if they’re missing something essential in order to empathize.

An example of isolated emotion might be a heroine who suddenly bursts into tears when the hero brings her a bouquet of beautiful white orchids. Through the rest of the scene the heroine explains white orchids were her mother’s favorite and since the funeral two years ago, she simply can’t look at the flower without becoming unglued. This is isolated emotion.

There are two ways to avoid isolated emotion–curb the reaction, keep it subdued, showing the reason through internal thoughts, or secondly, set up the reaction in an earlier scene.

Imagine the above scenario where the heroine smiles, accepts the flowers with a soft utterance of gratitude, but between the dialogue, her thoughts return to the day she buried her mother. She then becomes a heroic character, holding back her own pain in order to protect the hero from embarrassment over his inadvertent misstep.

I believe setting up the emotions has the most impact. We touched on this a bit earlier, but in the scenario above, it’s obvious the mother’s passing is something that deeply affects this character. Therefore, it would behoove the author to use this during the preceding pages as a means to showcase the vulnerability of this particular heroine.

Perhaps she wishes she could ask her mother for advice, or she remembers the funeral as she thinks of the last time she saw an estranged family member. However the memory is conveyed, sharing how she can’t see or smell orchids without thinking of that tragedy in her life should be layered in throughout.

So when the hero comes, obviously trying to get into her good graces or offer comfort—either because he owes her an apology or he feels badly for her and wants to cheer her up—and offers her the orchids, her bursting into tears has real and immediate value and impact. The reader supplies the impact without the writer having to divulge the obvious, making this an interactive read with an emotionally invested audience.

Be aware of the goal for the emotion. If there is no goal, then perhaps the emotion is not necessary. If the goal is to create an emotional aura where other things may happen–such as using the flower scenario to make the heroine more accepting of whatever the hero has come to say–be sure you choose the correct method to accurately reach the goal with the most impact.

Don’t throw in emotion for emotion’s sake. Give it real meaning.

Hope that helps! If you have any questions, please feel free to ask and I’ll do my best to answer in the comments. Tomorrow we’ll cover the fourth mistake made when trying to reach emotiona depth: Writing Outside the Plot.

Did you see what’s new over at the Teen Seen today? I think this blog is starting to get pretty interesting!

Warmly,
Jenny

Deep Emotion-Character Development

Deep Emotion–Character Development

As authors, we bring our own emotional burdens and joys to the page. Communication with an audience is often the key compelling motivator to share our tales of human and spiritual struggles. Whether we write comedy, romance, thrillers, or literary novels, the protagonists journey is always fraught with some emotional danger, at least they are in the very best works. Our endeavor here is to highlight the missteps new authors often make when first exercising this fundamental need to explore and share these intense, human emotions.

#1First Mistake–The Emotional Punch

We’re often taught to start by showing the protagonists in their every-day world then quickly introduce an instigating event that drastically changes their lives. This every-day world is difficult to craft and yet create a compelling hook that will kidnap the reader for the duration of the story. Many times, new authors attempt this hook by delivering emotional punches within the first few pages—which can come off as gratuitous violence or shock for the sake of shock.

The problem here is the reader is not yet invested and instead, they enter a story at a time where characters are going emotionally ballistic and are not yet sympathetic, having had not time to develop a relationship with the audience, or make them care about what happens to them.

For instance, imagine how Scarlett may have appeared if we were introduced to her at the moment she steals her sister’s fiancé as the men are heading off to war. Without the every-day world–her amusing and harmless defiance, stuffing her face, flaunting her milky skin in the sunlight, flirting with all the boys, we wouldn’t know she’s simply a bit spoiled, boy-crazy, and more importantly–feels inferior to her more respectable sisters and mother. This sense of inferiority is intimated through these charming bits of rebellion.

Her betrothal is reached out of a sense of embarrassment, the total devastation of Ashley Wilkes rejecting her, and then Rhett Butler’s ridicule. Without this information, the reader could never sympathize with Scarlett when she regretfully accepts Charles’s marriage proposal. Without that opening, the entire tone of the novel would have been much different. Margaret Mitchell knew what she was doing.

When we approach our stories, it’s not the emotional punch that needs to come first, but merely the promise of an emotional punch soon to come. Intimating the underlying frailties of the protagonist, suggesting these frailties are going to be put to the test, is the purpose of the opening in any well told story. These are the introductory promises, the foundation of emotional threads that will knit together a tight and emotionally compelling tale for the reader.

Start small, work with creating questions that will take the reader to the next paragraph, the next page, and on to the height of the climatic moment. Get concrete about the climax. What are those emotions? Joy, sadness, fear? Why does the protagonist feel those emotions? The answer to those questions will tell you what questions you need to create in your opening scene.

Let’s take a look at a famous novel, “Twilight” by Stephanie Meyer:

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt—sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.

Notice how her frailty is shown through her attachment to the shirt she’s wearing? How it’s implied this is a security blanket? Look at the questions created:

Why is she going to the airport?
Why is she feeling so vulnerable that she needs her favorite shirt for comfort?
Why is she saying farewell?
Is it going to be cold where she’s going?
Why is this important to the story?
What will happen when she gets where she’s going?
This book is about vampires, right—so will she meet a vampire when she gets there?

A simple paragraph, but chock full of questions that urge the reader to continue.

Can an opening begin with strong emotion? Yes, absolutely, but it should be directly related to the story and character as they appear in the time of the opening. Take Julie Garwood’s “Saving Grace” that begins with this:

The news was going to destroy her.
Kelmet, her faithful steward and senior in charge since Baron Raulf Williamson’s hasty departure from England on the king’s personal business, was given the responsibility of telling his mistress the god-awful news. The servant didn’t put off the dreaded task, for he guessed Lady Johanna would wish to question the two messengers before they returned to London, if his mistress could speak to anyone after she heard about her beloved husband.

The opening scene is abundant with unanswered questions and we can feel the dread of having to tell someone horrible news about a loved one. But take a look at how masterfully Garwood hooks the reader in by reading the way this ends:

“I must pray,” she whispered. “My husband is dead. I must pray.”
She closed her eyes, folded her hands together and finally began her prayer. It was a simple, direct litany that came from her heart.
“Thank you, God. Thank you, God. Thank you, God.”

By juxtaposing the opening dread and turning it instead to heartfelt relief, the reader has no choice but to read on and discover why this woman would find widowhood a blessing. Yet even in this opening, as taught and fraught with emotion as it is, the questions are what makes it successful. The question at the end makes it a page turner.

So instead of focusing on creating emotion, focus on creating questions that engage the reader’s curiosity and they won’t be able to put the book down.

Tomorrow we’ll look at #2: Why Purple Prose Won’t Work

I’ll also be blogging at the Teen Seen ( http://teen-seen.blogspot.com/ )tomorrow, so you should come on over and check it out. :)
Don’t forget either, that we’ve got a Query Critique Day coming up—so get those puppies polished!:)

Warmly,
Jenny:)