Oh hi… you came to find me but I am over at Indie Book Promo today interviewing with those kind people – talking writing, ebooks, The Redheaded Stepchild, and Robert Downey, Jr.
Come on over and visit HERE.
Leave a CommentFor my money, the hardest part of writing a book is figuring out where to end it. With my first book, The Redheaded Stepchild, it took me nearly two years to figure out an ending. The book was chiefly about the complicated relationship I had with my ex-stepmother, and even when that relationship was over, it wasn’t really over in my mind, so pinning down an ending was difficult. Even though I could pinpoint our last interaction, it still didn’t feel like “the end” in my mind. So I did what any writer does when they don’t know how to end a story: I picked an ending, and I went with it.
I’m working diligently on the last chapter of my current work in progress, Portrait of Woman in Ink: A Tattoo Storybook, but I can’t for the life of me figure out how to end it. Why? Because this last chapter is the chapter about me, and I don’t know this particular story of my life ends. For those of us who write autobiographically, or semi-autobiographically, as my case may be, endings are unbelievably hard to write. What’s keeping from finishing my book is the decision to either wait to see how my story shakes out, or just make something up.
What do you think? Is making up an ending cheating? Or do I pick an ending and go with it?
2 CommentsIt’s another Six Sentence Sunday, and happy summer to y’all! Today, we meet Jenna, the main character of the first story in Portrait of Woman in Ink: A Tattoo Storybook. Jenna is getting ready to get a tattoo with her father and sister, and is reflecting on her complicated relationship with her mother.
Jenna was a spitting image of her mother, especially in this photo, but the similarities ended there. Her mom just didn’t get her, and never had. She didn’t get why she’d want to go to college when she could marry her high school boyfriend and settle down in the picturesque Ozark hills. Jenna thought those days had passed long ago; maybe it was why her mother was the only one in the photo who actually looked like she fit in the era they were simulating, who didn’t look like she was wearing a costume. If it weren’t for the fact that she looked so much like her mom, she might’ve second guessed her parentage. But not her father… he got Jenna, so much that he’d sacrificed his marriage to their mother to keep the kind of closeness they’d always shared.
Thanks for dropping by! Be sure to check out the other talented peeps at Six Sentence Sunday and drop them a line, too.
Leave a CommentIt’s another Six Sentence Sunday! (I’m late on my post – my bad. Better late than never.) Today I’m sharing another snippet from Portrait of Woman in Ink: A Tattoo Storybook. In this chapter we meet Anna, a grad student still grieving the loss of her mother.
On the wall across from her, the family picture they’d taken when she was ten still hung on the wall: her handsome father, her beautiful mother, and one grinning, chubby ten-year-old in the middle. Catching her breath, she still couldn’t get over how beautiful her mother had been.
Still, she reminded herself, her mother had been beautiful because she was so image conscious and had such a distorted view of her body that she’d purged everything she ate for years. Staring at the picture, Anna could see the line from her mother’s dark makeup, the makeup she used to hide her sallow skin tone, permanently jaundiced from all the vomiting. She had eventually died because she wanted so badly to be beautiful. It was why Anna rarely wore makeup and her father constantly told her she was perfect just the way she was, with a few extra pounds and a low-maintenance hairdo.
Stay tuned for next week!
Comments closedAuthors are constantly finding new ways to use other media to increase the reach of their books, so I am trying a new little experiment, based on some inspiration from Small Demons. I made a list of all the songs referenced in The Redheaded Stepchild and compiled them into a Spotify playlist. I was kind of surprised when I finished, because when I look at the playlist, it really is a pretty great reflection of the story. I noticed a pretty sharp trend in the genres (I was raised in the sticks, after all), and because I am a huge nerd who likes pie, I created an executive-friendly statistical chart.
If you’re not on Spotify, I recommend it, despite the occasional tampon or laundry detergent commercial. If nothing else, to listen to the soundtrack to The Redheaded Stepchild, of course! Enjoy.
Click here to get the soundtrack.
Leave a CommentOh hi! You came to see me, but I am over on my Buddy McPal’s L.M. Stull’s web site today, where I talk about beating writer’s block and minimizing that to-read list with exercise. Go check it out if you’re so inclined.
Leave a CommentOh, hi! You came to visit me, but I am over at Ola Mae’s today where I’ve written a guest post that has nothing to do with writing, but is still cool nonetheless. Sewing is one of the primary ways I distract myself from nurturing my literary dreams, and my friend Kristen’s blog always gives me new and exciting ways to distract myself, so I figured I’d give back.
Go check it out if you’re so inclined.
http://www.ola-maes.com/2012/05/pearl-snap-sundress.html
Comments closedIt’s the end of April and I’m getting closer and closer to getting Portrait of Woman in Ink: A Tattoo Storybook ready for showtime. Today’s six is from one of the stories from this collection.
In this story, we meet Kasey, a young woman in denial about the aggressive nature of her mother’s cancer, a denial that takes the form of trying to give her another grandchild, thinking it will restore her will to live.
Kasey’s birth mother had only been thirteen when she became pregnant, and her birth mother’s aunt (whom Kasey had lovingly referred to as Murr for years) had stepped up to take care of her, become her mother in the loosest definition of the word. Murr was a lot easier to say than “Great Aunt,” and lot less awkward than calling her by “Grace,” her first name. Kasey watched her through the glass, seeing tears of what Kasey hoped was joy (but could have easily also been from one of her increasingly frequent coughing fits) collect in the wrinkles on her face, creasing starkly as she laughed watching her grandson dance in front of the fire. Hopefully he wouldn’t take after his father and think the fire was a toy.
“Is Gracie really going to get a tattoo with you tomorrow?” Shannon asked, her bottom lip shivering in the cold air.
“She says she is, so she better,” Kasey shrugged.
That’s all for now! Be sure to check out all the other talented peeps at Six Sentence Sunday. We all toil away in obscurity; this is just one way we get our names out there.
Leave a CommentThe blogger behind the B’Tween Prose young adult book review blog gave The Redheaded Stepchild a thoughtful review this week while I was working in Miami and trying to find any spare minute to hit the beach.
Be sure to pop over and check out the review, and leave a comment or two on the blog. Book bloggers are the lifeblood of our community!
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