Guess what I'm doing today! Practicing my summer camp songs at AJ's Notes blog! I'm roasting marshmallows, talking about MFRW and getting ready for the Summer Camp on July 14th and 15th. Take a break and visit me... http://autumnjordonsnotes.blogspot.com/
Anyone know this camp song...
"Little bunny Foo Foo Hopping through the forest Scooping up..."
The Insecure Writer’s Support Group Purpose:To share and encourage. Writers can express doubts and concerns without fear of appearing foolish or weak. Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance. It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!
I'm new to this blog hop and crazy busy at this time but this is such an important topic I couldn't resist joining. We're all insecure at some point from newbies to bestselling authors. One issue that's been nagging me the last few weeks is the need to increase my productivity. I write every day so the problem isn't finding the time or discipline to write but getting more done in the time I'm at my computer.
It took some time to figure out why I wasn't finishing my WIP faster. For one, I'm a new author and still trying to formulate my work process which is no doubt second nature to a seasoned author. So...I started a list in progress of what to do and not to do when I'm writing my WIP. The tips below may or may not be helpful to you as we all write differently. Hopefully, you'll find some of them useful.
Happy writing! (remember this is a work in progress...as everything in life is!)
* Turn off the internal editor and just get the rough draft done.
* Stop trying to make the scenes "perfect" and just write.
* Every once in a while remember this... "You are way too hard on yourself! Have faith in your writing and quit being so damn critical!"
* On that note...give yourself permission to do one thing at a time. You don't have to multi-task every minute of the day.
* Don't worry too much about foreshadowing. It will click into place when you read through the rough draft. This goes for creating twists/surprises they will materialize as you go through the rough draft.
* Know your outline (if you outline!). Realize you will alter the outline at some point and it's okay to do it!
* Interview the characters if they feel distant.
* Go somewhere quiet, close your eyes and let the scenes play through your mind like a movie. (this helps me with my characters emotions and dialogue)
If you have tips please write them in your comment. I like hearing how others work!
Welcome to my blog Heather! It's so nice to have fellow Muse authors over to visit. Congrats on your new release, another in the Alvarez Family Murder Mystery series!
Hello, Jenna, and what a lovely name! Thanks so much for hosting me today on your blog to tell your readers a little bit about my latest novel in the Alvarez Family Murder Mystery series, Death runs in the Family. Death Runs is my favorite so far, but this is probably because the latest is usually an author’s favorite! Lee, Lila, Richard and Tío – the whole Alvarez Family - are up to their eyeballs again in dead bodies here in the gorgeous Bay Area and beyond! Peril is everywhere. Even Tugger is catnapped! Take a gander at my book trailer if you don’t believe me: http://youtu.be/TJiessiOxAc
Lee Alvarez’ ex-husband, Nick -- a man she divorced with joy in her heart and a gun in her hand – sprints back in her life only to disappear again. She’d love to leave it at that, but could he be responsible for the recent death of her cousin, who keeled over at the finish line of a half-marathon in front of hundreds of spectators? As PI for the family run business, Discretionary Inquiries, Lee follows the clues to Vegas, where she joins forces with Shoshone PI, Flint Tall Trees. Together they uncover a multi-million dollar betting syndicate, a tacky lounge lizard act, and a list of past but very dead runners, plus future ones to off. At the top of the ‘future’ list is the love of her life, Gurn Hanson. Hoping to force the culprits out in the open, Gurn and Lee’s brother, Richard, vow to run San Francisco’s famous Palace to Palace footrace in only a few days. Can Lee keep the two men she loves from hitting the finish line as dead as her cousin? With more at stake than she ever dreamed possible, Lee is in a battle against time to stop the Alvarez Family’s 12K race with death.
Without much conversation, we jostled Nick out of the room and down the stairs. As a precaution, we used the back exit, Flint flinging boxes of DVDs every which way so fast, the clerk only managed one “hey” before we were out the door. The exit led to a narrow back alley filled with garbage, trash, and more small scurrying animals that should be calling the SPCA to complain about the conditions under which they’re forced to live.
While Flint went to bring the car to the side of the alley, I waited in the shadows next to Nick and pulled out the Glock. The irony of the situation hit me like a double charge on a credit card bill for shoes not only too tight to wear but last year’s style.
On the left, a disgusting dumpster; on the right, an even more disgusting ex-husband. And me stuck in the middle as usual—a reluctant PI if ever there was one.
Rather than inhaling the stench of fly-ridden garbage, I’d really rather be sniffing out dastardly doings of computer sabotage or thievery, in particular, long after said dastardly deeds have gone down. It’s my idea of a good job, especially when I get to zip off whenever I want and have a great lunch.
The part I like best—besides the food—is sitting at a highly polished, recently vacated mahogany desk in an air-conditioned office, sifting through the rubble of high-tech deceit and betrayal. I like gathering enough evidence to point a manicured fingernail at the culprit and shout j'accuse! Backlit by enough briefs, memos, emails, and other telltale papers, the culprit is mine. That is a real high.
This was a real low. But I had to think about Stephen. My cousin was dead, and Nick knew something about it. Hell, maybe he even had something to do with it. And, of course, there were the cats. If Nick was in any way responsible, I might do him in myself and save whatever goons there may be the trouble.
All these things were flitting through my mind when Nick—the stupid idiot—made a lunge for my gun, muttering he could take better care of himself than I could. Sometimes an ex-marine, like an ex-husband, needs to get over himself.
One of the first lessons you learn as a PI is to not to carry a gun if you’re going to let anybody take it away from you. All the years I’ve been carrying, ten to be exact, people have taken all sorts of things from me—including my virtue—but never my gun.
So when Nick came at me, my knee went up fast, strong, and accurate. Ex dropped to the ground in a fetal position. God only knows what else was lying there with him, but I left him on the dirt, anyway. He was busy moaning while I cocked the Glock and gave a 360-degree spin, prepared to do whatever was necessary to keep the jerk safe. At least, for the moment.
Fortunately, no one showed up except a passing rat or two, excluding the one I stood over. After what felt like a lifetime, I saw Flint’s headlights, although I’m sure it didn’t take him more than three minutes to get there. I helped Nick up. He limped to the car, and Flint, bless him, raised an eyebrow over Nick’s condition but didn’t say a word. What a guy.