Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!!

Hello, it's only me!!

Yes, I know it's been a while, but I'm still around. Never has there been a more apt blog title than 'Princess of Procrastination'...(and that's a major understatement).

People who know me know just how notoriously BAD I am at keeping up with stuff. I'm pretty sure I have a defective gene when it comes to keeping to a schedule. There are lots of genuine reasons for the lack of blog posts (my full time job, health stuff, lack of inspiration etc), but mostly it's just a case of good old (or bad old) procrastination. I've taken some steps to try and help with this, though.

Book One of The Furry Tale Chronicles

The biggest step was deciding to lay to rest my other blog. I had the best of intentions when I created my Furry Tales Chronicles blog. I wanted to keep my book stuff separate, and continue with the sillies on THIS blog. Trouble is, I can't keep up with one blog, never mind two, and knowing I was neglecting two blogs just made me feel a bit overwhelmed. I'll be posting a short note over there to redirect anyone who stumbles across it over here. I had deleted it initially, but then I realised that the web address is advertised on my publisher's website AND in my 'about the author' notes in my Crimson book. (Duh). But after my little note, there won't be anything new posted over there.

You'll notice that I've added some page tabs at the top of the page. These are just to include the information that was listed on my other blog (see, I did the job properly!). I'm going to do my very best to blog every Monday or Tuesday over here. My usual silliness, most likely (of course!), peppered with personal stuff, and book related stuff as and when there is anything interesting to tell.

Of course, it is January, the month where most people decide to give themselves a kick up the butt, so it's probably no surprise that I decided NOW to be a bit more proactive in my fight against procrastination. But despite 2013 being a GREAT year for me (two books released - yay!), it was also a bit of a sucky year as well. My health hasn't been great, my writing projects received little to no attention, my finances have been skewered, and I've struggled to keep my episodic depression at bay.

I'm determined to do better this year. I want at least one more book under my belt by the end of 2014, and hopefully I can get another novella released, too. I've already been working on SOUL IDENTITY (my epic fantasy), which I plan to publish under my real name when it's eventually finished (most of you know that I publish under a pen name for my romances). And the second of my Furry Tale Chronicles book is well under way. Looking good, so far!

Wedding Wake up call: My son, my daughter, me, & my step-daughter.

My last bit of personal stuff for today is a public declaration of my intention to lose weight this year. You may remember that I lost a whopping 42lbs a few years ago. Unfortunately (as so often happens with us chronic dieters), I put every last pound back on again. *sighs* I did make an effort last year and managed to lose (and keep off) 14lbs, but I gave up far too quickly. Today is the day that I start my new plan. Doctors would tell me that I need to lose 45-50lbs to fall in the 'healthy range', but I'm hoping for a more realistic loss of 30lbs for the time being. That would be put me at around the same weight that I was three years ago, and you know, it felt... nice... not too thin, but definitely not fat. I was recently a bridesmaid for my sister in law, and it was looking at the pictures that gave me the kick up the butt that I needed. Of course, I knew I'd put on weight, but there is nothing like seeing a picture of yourself where you think you look OK, and seeing just how big you've become, to shock you into action. Oh, I know I'm not monstrously huge, but if I'm cringing at the picture, then it's a sure sign that it's time to do something.

I'm not brave enough to publicly announce my actual weight, but I will be giving a weekly update on pounds lost (and not gained, hopefully) over the next few months. Accountability helps.

My Christmas novella, released in December

My last bit of news today (sorry for the extremely long post, but you know, it has been a while *snort*), is that IF THE SHOE FITS is now available in paperback! Yay! I'll get to hold my first book baby in my hands! So far it's only popping up in the US (I've seen it both at Barnes & Noble and Amazon), but it should be showing up in the UK (and other countries, via Amazon) over the next few weeks. I'm tentatively thinking about putting my self-pubbed Christmas novella, MEET ME HALFWAY, out in paperback, too, but at the moment that one is still only available through Amazon's Kindle. I'll let you know if and when that changes!

That's it for now! I'll see you next week, when I'll have some news about promotional stuff for IF THE SHOE FITS. *grins*

*is informing through rambling*

Just a quick one today (er, blog that is) so that I can tell you that I've managed to start writing for my NaNo novel. No really - I did. *is shocked and stunned* I'm only just past a thousand words, but I should hit my personal goal of 2.5k by the end of today. *nods firmly* I have to work at a slightly faster pace than the official 1,667 words a day if I am to win, you see. I'm currently off from work and won't return until the 14th, so a few extra words a day are essential to make up for the second half of the month where I know I will be tired and less inclined to write. I figure 13 days at 2,500 words is what, 32,500k? That'll leave me 1,030 words per day to write for the remainder of the challenge, which sounds infinitely more preferable to 1,667, right? I don't think I can finish the story in 50,000 words, mind you, but I'd love to have 50k under my belt by the end of the month. I'm thinking the novel should be hitting 80-90k as a finished product, but there's no way I'm getting that many words down in thirty days...


Anywho, I should also mention that after last month's effort of blogging every day *is shocked and stunned about that too*, I'd like to keep to a semi-regular blogging schedule if at all possible. I highly doubt that every day is doable - especially seeing as it is me we are talking about - but I figure three days a week might be a nice compromise. Possibly Monday, Wednesday and Friday, but nothing is set in stone yet.

Lastly, asterisks are back. *nods again* Of course they are! I can't blog without asterisked titles during a WriMo month, can I? That would be unthinkable! Inconceivable, even!

Lastly, if anyone would like to Buddy me on the official NaNoWriMo site, you can find me under the moniker of Tundiel, and my novel is titled Soul Identity. Go ahead and add me, there's always room for more slags and clarts on my buddy list. *smiles winsomely*

Out With The Old

So I mentioned the other day that two of Weesa's topic suggestions linked heavily with my first attempt at an original novel. Today's topic - imagination - is Weesa's final suggestion, and I am going to post what was intended as a prologue for my long-neglected work (not) in progress. In the prologue for 'Soul Identity', I wanted to somehow get the reader to really visualise the set up, and also to set the tone for the entire novel. It was never meant to be longer than a single page - in fact, it was more of a forward than a prologue now that I think about it.


I had mixed feedback from my friends, both Burrowing and non- Burrowing, and I could never quite decide myself whether I liked it or not. This incarnation is pretty much what I originally wrote way back when, and although I had intended to keep it, I think I may scrap it (along with the few chapters already written) and start all over. Nevertheless, I intend to keep pieces of this and incorporate them into the story at a later point because I still like the imagery.

But what does this have to do with imagination? Well, apart from the obvious - that writing a story requires imagination somewhere along the line - the entire point of my prologue was to get readers to imagine the scene themselves. In fact, the very first word is 'imagine' - fancy that!

So here comes the soon-to-be scrapped prologue of 'Soul Identity'. I figured it deserved another airing before I laid it to rest and began working on the book from scratch again during this year's NaNoWriMo.

Soul Identity - Prologue

Imagine a soul floating on the breeze. It shivers as if it is deathly cold, fluttering wildly. It moves along the air currents, passing through clouds unnoticed; the birds that fly by on their daily journeys do not sense it. Indeed, the soul itself does not register the presence of the winged creatures. The soul continues to float through the sky seemingly aimlessly. It does not know where it will end up; it does not understand why it is traveling. It is, after all, only a soul. It has no conscious thought, it does not think for itself. The soul simply is.

Imagine a child who is hidden from the world. The Child sits in a stark, cold room and waits for her life to start. The daily existence that she lives through is nothing more than a parody of life. The Child is fed at first light and at dusk. The child knows not how the nourishment arrives at her feet, just as she knows not how the books came to be in her possession. She does not understand why she is in this place, nor does she question it.

The Child may be alone, but the Child is not ignorant. She is well-read and fluent in several languages. Indeed, the Child can speak quite proficiently, though her voice is rarely heard. The Child prefers the silence because Silence is her friend.

Silence comforts her when she is uneasy. Silence does not mock her when she is troubled; Silence wraps its arms around her and soothes away her distress. Silence warns the child when there is danger at hand, for when Silence is disturbed, the Child invariably is disturbed soon after. The Child knows this, therefore the Child respects this. Silence is her friend.

And so the Child sits in her stark, cold room and waits. She waits for Silence to abandon her, as she knows will happen soon enough. She waits for life. She waits to breathe.

Imagine.

                                                                      #

Picture a village on the outskirts of a forest. Small rickety homes litter the rural landscape; broken, rundown homes screaming their poverty for all to hear. Picture the inhabitants of this village. Quiet, goodly folk who farm their land and dream of nothing more than a good meal and a safe family to return home to at the end of the day. They are a peaceful folk; there are no wars to be fought, no crimes to punish. They set their lives to the rise and fall of the Sun. When dawn breaks they set about their work without complaint, eager to toil on the land that they love. The arrival of dusk brings contentment; satisfaction that they have worked to the best of their ability. They return home to their loved ones and retire after a simple meal, intent on being well-rested for the coming day.

A simple life; but a good one.

But Darkness creeps through this quaint part of the world, hidden from sight, invisible to the innocent. It seeps into their hearts without their knowledge; once it has a grip it is hard to be free of it. Darkness seeks those who are least able to understand. It strikes into the hearts of the pure, a sharp spear of confusion. Only the strongest souls have the strength to repel its deadly tip. But even the heartiest soul has its limits.

Picture a tall and muscular man with dark hair cropped close to his skull. His piercing blue eyes are sometimes flecked with green, hinting at a cold nature. His nose is large and pocked from many beatings. He is a hard man, but a pious one. He holds his faith up like a shield, proud of his heritage. Arin is a basically decent man; he's a husband, a farmer and a friend. First and foremost he is a Guardian of the Faith. The Faith holds priority over everything, even his kin. This is typical of the time; a mans faith is a mans life. Arin is no exception.

But Arin was about to be made an exception. Darkness had found a new target, a perfect one. Arin has all the right credentials. He is devoted to his faith; he is past the innocence of youth; he is strong and courageous, prepared to fight for what he believes in. And Arin is married. Arin is wed to a beautiful young woman named Maya, and Maya is the key to it all.

Maya is with child.


Darkness smiles.

It's All About The Purple

I find it interesting that two of the five subjects that my fourth 'topic suggester' picked link really well with the first original novel that I started writing (emphasis on the 'started' there as that's about as far as I got). Among the suggestions that Weesa gave me was 'purple' and 'imagination'. Obviously I'm not going to ramble about imagination today because I need to keep that for a couple of days' time, so today it's going to be all about the Purple. *nods*

My story premise for 'Soul Identity' (the tentative name that I came up with about a century ago) was pretty simple. Everybody has something unique inside them that identifies who they truly are, and this certain something is central to how they live their lives. Everybody has this, but there are some who have a stronger version (for want of a better word), and it is these people who end up shaping the way we live.

Now, my story was fantasy based, so of course I needed legends and back story for my characters, plus I had to have the essential good vs. evil dynamic that most decent fantasy novels contain. I don't want to go into too much detail because I have a sneaksy feeling that I may end up working on the book for next month's NaNoWriMo (and be classed as a rebel for doing so), but what I found really interesting (as I mentioned above) is that Weesa picked out two of the really strong themes from 'Soul Identity'  - how mad is that?

The purple is pretty easy to explain. My main characters are related to each other, though they don't know of this until late in their childhoods. One is kept locked away by a benevolent old man, and the other is brought up by loving parents and a godmother. Although they have completely opposite experiences of childhood, they are both almost identical in looks and temperament, and recognize their kinship as soon as they eventually meet.

But where's the purple? I'm getting there...

Being fantsay based, it should come as no surprise for you to learn that these children  (both girls, named Cassiopeia and Andromeda, by the way) have a mystical history, and are, in fact, the key to saving the world (obviously!). Naturally there is legend and folklore that tells the story of the coming of two girls who will defeat the evilness of the world, and of course they will have to suffer through many obstacles and sacrifice a great deal before they can to what they're destined to do.

What do you mean, that sounds familiar? Of course it sounds familiar! All good fantasy novels have the hero/heroine venture on some sort of quest and end up having to save the world - it's the tried and tested formula. *nods*

But where's the flipping purple?!?!

Alright, alright, I'm getting to it...

Both my girls have piercing lavender eyes (is that not a shade of purple? *winks*) and are the main identifying attribute that alerts those in the know that they are the girls that were spoken of in legend. To compliment their unusual eye colouring, they both have vibrant violet hair (ooh look, another shade of purple!). Obviously this isn't the norm even in a fantasy based world, which partly explains why the one child is locked away, and why the other will be seen to go to great lengths to conceal her true colouring. It's all about the purple indeed.

It's also a pretty moralistic tale, with plenty of action, a little mystery, a pinch of magic, and a great big whack of emotional punch, because when I am not being nutty and delusional with talking cats and modern-day fairy tales set in the Kair of Diff, I actually think my true writer's voice belongs in angsty, dark and emotional story telling.

This, I hope, is what I want to bring to 'Soul Identity', and hopefully I'll be Bringing It throughout next month's WriMo challenge.

Sooky Saps

I'm a great big cry-baby. *nods* I'm by nature quite cold normally; I'm not given to hugs and kisses (except with my kids), I don't cry easily, and I'm not someone who says 'I love you' on a day to day basis. My Internet Persona is the opposite; I hug and glomp people all of the time. It's not that I'm being false, I just don't find it easy to show affection in the real world. With the internet I can be as loving as I like without feeling embarrassed about it.

Anyway, to get back to my original sentence, I'm a cry-baby. But didn't I just say that I don't cry easily? To clarify, I don't cry easily when it comes to real life stuff. Real life sucky stuff may get me feeling down and depressed, but I rarely cry about it. But when it comes to movies and books, I'm a great big sob-machine.

I could name ten movies right now that had me turning into quivering wreck - heck, I could probably name more than that if I thought about it. A prime example is The Green Mile. Man, I cry buckets of tears whenever I watch that, it's pathetic. The first time I saw it, the story was new to me (I actually read the book a few months ago and thought it was one of Stephen King's better offerings), but as soon as Michael Clark Duncan's puppy dog eyes lit up the screen, I knew he was doomed (thus I was doomed too). I had a sore throat for the last twenty minutes of the movie because I was struggling to swallow my tears (hubby teases me dreadfully when I have a sappy moment). To this day I can't watch it without that lump forming in my throat.

Another movie that gets to me is Philadelphia. OK, the movie shamelessly stereotypes the main characters, but it's very effective. It probably helped too that Tom Hanks and Denzil Washington, two of my favorite actors, played the main characters. I can watch this movie almost to the end and I am fine. I'm even OK when Andrew Becket finally succumbs to his disease. It's that final scene that gets me, the collage of memories playing against the haunting tones of Neil Young's voice. Blubbering Wreckdom, here I come.

It's not only serious movies that get to me either. When Mufasa cops it during Disney's The Lion King, I cry more than the kids. And I'm actually too scared to watch Bambi, even though it's probably the only Disney movie I've never seen.

Moving on....

As much as I should have a little sympathy for fellow saps, I'm actually the opposite. There's nothing I enjoy more than making people cry. Wait, that doesn't sound right. What I mean is that I love making people cry with my writing. For all that I am a relatively cold person, my stories usually lean heavily on the emotions. I can be funny too, and with a certain degree of success, but making people cry is a specialty of mine. And I love it, I'm just evil that way.

I'll never forget my first big emotional fanfiction. I was responsible for many a person trying to type through a river of tears. Heck, when I reposted the edited version (me being a Typo Queen, edited versions are compulsory), I cried buckets myself. *snorts* I don't know how it's worked out this way, but I seem to have a talent for making people sob.

I guess it wasn't a surprise that my novel would end up being the same way. OK, it's not written yet, but Soul Identity is a tearjerker, make no mistake. (Yes, I'm being brave and publicly announcing the title, it's part of the 'if I talk about it, I'll write the darn thing' plan). I'm being sneaky though. The story is not going to be a slow builder, with a great big cry-until-you-die ending, instead there are bite-sized pieces of emotionally draining scenes peppered throughout, chipping away slowly but surely so that the ending should totally wipe you out, even though it's not actually a big climax at all.

At least, that's what I'm hoping for. Ultimately, my aim is to get people emotionally involved in the story, and if I can get them to shed a tear or two along the way, I'll be a very happy cry-baby.