Lagging a bit...

Some days you just hit your groove and type, type, type away.

And others -- you stare at the computer screen, fingers poised over the keys, and nothing will come out. Or what does come out, you hate and immediately delete.

I'm having one of those weeks, it seems.

You would think that getting my new Lenovo x61 tablet laptop PC would be exciting enough to make me want to just sit anywhere and everywhere and write away on the book, but alas it has been more frustration so far.

Note to future Lenovo/IBM PCs with Windows Vista buyers: These babies come with so much preloaded "bloatware" that the performance speed is piss poor! I had to go in and disable a zillion things in msconfig and I plan to delete a bunch of "try me" software as well. I've already increased some of the speed by doing the former.

OH, and if you want a tablet -- be forewarned -- they don't usually come with internal CD/DVD drives. So you need to have an external to install any software from CD. Haha, it never even occurred to me that you could get computers without a way to install stuff. Nor did it occur to my Dad, who worked at IBM for like 30 YEARS!

Okay, but the one neat thing is that I can flip this screen around and read my book draft in "tablet mode" which makes me almost feel like I'm reading a real book. And since I converted the file to a ".lit" Ebook format, I can read and have the book read to me in Microsoft Reader.

That's pretty cool...

Excerpt...because I feel like it.

Okay, so I've decided I would put a little excerpt of the book on here, just so you can get a feel for the way that I write. If you've read any of my fanfiction, you probably already know how I write. It's a pretty simplistic style. I'm not inclined to writing a lot of exposition or excessive scene descriptions. I like dialogue and I like sarcasm and humor, but I also like battles and mayhem and angst. The book has aspects of all those things. But this is a scene where the brothers show a little tension, since all good heroes need to have a few spats, right?

EXCERPT, the following is copyrighted material:

The next morning Dylan and Terran eyed the approaching swordmaster with wary expressions. He was carrying four wooden pieces that resembled swords in their design, but were blunt.

Terran gulped and Dylan shifted from foot to foot – half in anxiety and half in anticipation. For the first time in his life, he was not thinking of the logic or analyzing facts and figures. He was doing something impulsive and risky.

It was an exciting feeling.

His brother’s distress wasn’t lost on him though. As obsessed as Terran was with fantasy and fiction, it was one thing to love all things about it and another to be able to physically become like the heroes of your imagination.

Dylan could feel Terran’s worry that he wouldn’t be able to do this. Despite the King’s instruction the previous night, the brothers were still novices at blocking off the bond they shared and emotions still filtered through strongly most of the time. Like now. Dylan put a hand on Terran’s forearm and squeezed his support.

“Dylan, Terran,” King Menkin said from their right. “This is Carlin, the swordmaster. He has trained the best of our warriors in sword-fighting with two blades; which is what most Oran practice.”

Reaching out, Carlin handed each boy one practice sword, which drew confused stares from the brothers. “I thought you said two?” Dylan said as he held the heavy wood in his hand and adjusted his grip until it felt right. Carlin was watching him closely as he did it.

The King chose to answer. “It is best for a beginner to start with one sword. If the talent is there, they can progress to two and then to live steel.”

He glanced at Carlin as the elder Oran shifted his gaze to Terran – who was fidgeting with the practice blade in his hand, but who had not tried to settle it into a comfortable position like his brother.

The two Oran met each others gazes and silently communicated. Carlin reached out and adjusted Terran’s grip himself and the boy looked up at him and blinked, then nodded and muttered, “Thanks.”

Dylan waited for the Oran to adjust his grip too, but was surprised when the swordmaster simply gave it a cursory inspection and left it alone.

Terran didn’t miss it and frowned.

Another thing Dylan was going to be better at.

Jealousy flared up in the dark-haired boy, but he was bound and determined to hide it from his brother – and with some strong concentration, he felt he had succeeded. He didn’t want Dylan to know how he was feeling, after all.

Soon, Carlin was directing them through simple maneuvers against no opponent and it was quickly apparent that Dylan was a natural. Without being told, he let his body relax and the techniques flowed easily.

For Terran, it was difficult to get his arm to obey his mind. And even when it did, his feet seemed to have a mind of their own as well. He knew what he had to do, but his
body seemed unwilling to listen.

It was frustrating to be stopped, adjusted and then allowed to go time and time again, but Terran wasn’t one to give in so easily – unless it was something his brother told him to do. He found he always seemed to obey Dylan.

The hours stretched into days of practice, and still, Terran was not showing much sign of improvement. Sure, he could take on a few of the less skilled Oran, but he was not much competition for the intermediates and a far cry from the advanced.

Dylan, on the other hand, had practically soared through all the levels until he was really only challenged by Carlin. It was the talk of the training field – this young Dreamer from Earth who had taken to sword-play like a fish to water.

One afternoon, Terran flopped onto his bed in the brothers’ guest room and twisted until he was facing away from his brother and staring out the balcony opening.

He could hear Dylan stripping his sweaty clothes behind him. Finally, a weight settled on his bed and Dylan nudged him in the back of the shoulder.

“What’s the matter with you?” the blond said. “You were so excited about adventure before, now all you do is mope around. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Terran huffed. “No.”

“No?”

Sighing, Terran turned over and looked at his brother, who was wearing a sleeveless tunic after the long afternoon of training. “You don’t get it, do you?” He said testily. “You didn’t want an adventure; you didn’t even want to believe this was real. And look at you. You’re the champion swordsman and at some point you’ll be leading the Oran to victories.” He shook his head. “Me? I’ll be hiding in the back since my skills are so atrocious.”

Dylan didn’t need a twin-bond to hear the jealousy and upset in Terran’s response. He frowned. “I don’t want to lead an army, Terran,” he said. “I’m sorry you don’t seem to have sword-fighting as a talent, but you really didn’t expect it, did you? I mean, you know how you were back home. It takes a lot of coordination…”

Terran bristled. “So you didn’t think I could from the start,” he said angrily. “Why didn’t you just say so and save me all this trouble? Why didn’t any of you? I’m sure it was noticeable from the first moment when Carlin had to adjust my hand to hold the practice sword.”

Realizing that the argument was about to escalate, Dylan stood up from the bed and backed away.

“I’m sorry, Terran,” he said. “Sorry that this isn’t working out the way you had hoped. But I’m not sorry that I’m good at sword-fighting. And I’m not going to apologize for it, either. You need to find your talent because I’m sick of feeling your frustration and your disappointment over our bond.”

He added: “You need to get over this fantasy hero thing you have going on, Terran. This isn’t some novel or movie. It’s real. It’s not just some adventure for you to enjoy, it’s peoples’ lives. I didn’t want to believe it at first, but I had to face it when it became apparent we weren’t going home.”

He turned sharply on his heel and exited the room, leaving Terran to ponder his brother’s words. Was he really being that superficial? Did he really want the fantasy hero status, and was he putting that ahead of helping the people of Karne?

“I’m … such … an … idiot,” he said pointedly. Shaking his head, he stood up and squashed his ruffled hair down. “And starting tomorrow, no more feeling sorry for myself; I’m going to find a way to help these people, even if it’s not something so flashy and heroic as a weapon.”

Terran put aside his childish fantasies and stalked out the door.

END EXCERPT:

Hope you enjoyed...

Too many ideas ... not enough book

I knew it would happen.

I've always been long-winded.

Lately, I've realized that I have so many twists and turns planned for my book that the thing will end up being so long that I'm not so sure my target audience would be able to get through it all! After all, it's geared toward young adults. I mean, I'm already 30,000 words into the story and I haven't really even introduced a character who is going to be important, I haven't gotten to the heart of the mystery involved. There is so much more story to tell and I worry that I am being too descriptive and including too many things.

I'm sure that edits later might delete whole needless scenes, but I can't help but wonder if I'm trying to include too much in this story.

The problem is I like all the plot twists that I'm referring to and I don't want to leave any of them out. I think they are all great!

Blech, this book-writing business can be torture! I like the story too much to leave anything out, but wonder if anyone else will feel the same way about some of the things that I plan to write. I guess that's something all authors wonder -- if anyone will like what they write.

Ah well, at the very least I'll have fun writing it and rereading myself later on!

My twins or my twins?

I've noticed I have a dilemma, right out of the starting gate.

Making sure I spend enough time with my twins ... and then with my twins.

Meaning my real, live twin daughters versus my fantasy twin heroes. I've found that at times I get so entrenched in writing a scene and getting down that thought before it escapes my head that I feel like I'm ignoring my girls. I'm not, since they get most of my time during the day, but sometimes it doesn't feel like it. But I'm the type of writer that will get an idea and either go on the computer and belt it out -- or I'll walk around with pen and paper to scribble a note. (Case in point, there is a sheet of paper and marker beside my bed...)

I do a lot of my writing at night, so if I'm neglecting anyone, it's my husband. Of course, he sits on his computer and does things most all night too so I guess I'm not the only one who is head bent over a computer all night.

Still, my first hurdle with the writing of the Dreamers book appears to be splitting my time evenly between the writing and real life. I knew it would be a problem, though, since I've been writing fanfiction for years and had similar difficulties with that. The thing this time that's a major difference is that I hope to publish this story and if I'm very lucky, make money doing it. So, in a way, I can argue that this is indeed a job that I have to spend "x" amount of time doing a day.

Right?

Sure ... that's what I'll tell myself.

What's this blog for...

Well, I've thought about doing it for a while.

I have two blogs that focus on my girls, Lily and Eve.

But not one that focuses on me.

And I still don't have one that focuses on me because this one will focus on only one aspect of me -- what I like to call "the battle of the book." What that means is what it says, basically, the day-to-day struggles of getting my wacky imagination to make some sense so I can put it down on "paper" and finish my book.

A little background: I started writing back in elementary school. I laugh everytime I find something I did back then, but who doesn't, right? It has always been a goal of mine to write and publish a book. Over the years, the type of book has changed a million times. Recently (meaning since high school, so for about 10 years...) I have been trying to come up with an idea that would give me the chance to write in all my favorite genres.

I found it.

I'm not going to give away much of the story here, since I do want to publish it and I do want people to, well, you know, buy it someday. And because any author will tell you, this story is likely the change over the course of its writing. But I will tell you some basics as they currently stand.

The main characters are twin boys, Dylan and Terran. Unlike my girls, they are fraternal and they are -- quite different. These boys discover they were born with a gift -- though at times it might be considered a curse -- on their 14th birthday. They don't dream like the rest of us. From time to time -- their dreams are real and it is up to the boys to save wherever it is their dreams take them. The first book is set in a land called Karne. And Karne is in turmoil after one of its rulers has been somehow changed from a kind and gentle being -- to a cruel and heartless one. Dylan and Terran, reluctantly at first, have to solve the mystery of what happened to him, battle back his armies, and all before they can "wake up" and go home.

There, that's all I'm saying...

For now.

Stay tuned.