Tuesday, June 28, 2011
What is it you ask?
A WRITING CONTEST! Of course.
Details coming when I get back. But the PRIZE will be a copy of a newly released, REALLY AWESOME, novel that just came out, by an AMAZING new author. (Hint: the cover is white and B E A U tiful! The inside is just as good, I assure you. You definitely want this book!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
So, it's time to make this baby sparkle! All feedback welcome...
Genre: YA romantic thriller with supernatural elements
Word Count: 90,000
The books reeked of salt and rotting fish. I kind of liked it. Colorado libraries back home only carried the scent of aged paper and dust. Not nearly as charming.
I continued to browse, finding the search as satisfying as the read. It was definitely better than choosing between name brand cream cheese and the cheap stuff. Running errands for Mom really bugged, but it at least gave me an excuse to get out. Alone.
I finally had a driver’s license this summer. The picture had turned out dreadful, but fortunately, a glamorous photo wasn’t a requirement for the freedom it offered. Well, a little bit of freedom. Mom didn’t let it flow freely, but every ounce she let leak, I soaked up like an old sponge. Anything to make my life less vanilla.
Movement near the end of the aisle caught my attention, and I watched as a teenage boy sat by the window to read, bright colors parading over the comic section. My gasp brought his interest from the paper to me. Strings of black hair fell over his forehead, screening his sunken eyes, and the bones in his face stuck out sharp beneath skin that could snap. An invisible darkness hung around him, so flawless I could almost taste its putrid flavor.
I could feel it.
But there was more. Something ran deeper, radiated from within. Something I sensed more than saw. He was…different.
His eyes bore into mine, but I couldn’t look away. I just wanted to gawk as my finger longed to slowly trace his bony features—make sure he was real.
Thanks for reading! Please feel free to comment...
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
You know you're a writer if...
You would rather work on your WIP than go out on a Friday night.
When speaking, you edit the sentences in your head before they come out.
Literary agents become celebrities and you can't stop stalking them on the internet.
The say something nice or don't say anything at all phrase no longer applies to you. You'd much rather have a form rejection than an empty inbox.
You stay up in the middle of the night thinking about people who don't exist. At least not to other people.
You don't shower until 5pm. But hey, you were up late working the night before. Oh wait, you were up way early working too.
All of your friends and family think you're about to make a million dollars now that you've completed your first draft. (A misconception I don't understand)
You have no idea what's going on in your world, although you've considered every possible thing that could happen in a dystopic society, alternate history, mars...
Vacuuming (or some other tedious chore) becomes something you look forward to since you'll have time to brainstorm.
There are little pieces of envelopes, napkins, coloring book pages, and so on everywhere with notes written so scribbly you can't read the ideas you found so marvelous.
Your email is your best friend and biggest enemy, and you must watch it all day long.
You'd rather check QT, Absolute write, or Publishers Marketplace than your personal Facebook.
Thanks for reading and share a comment below!
Monday, June 13, 2011
**UPDATE** I am officially a finalist! Thanks everyone!
Gabriela Lessa is having a Love All Year Long Contest judged by literary agent Weronika Janczuk, of Lynn C. Franklin Associates, Ltd.
Seeing as how this is right up my ally, I decided to FINALLY start my writing blog (Still thinking of a better title) and try to participate. (Hopefully, not too late!) Here goes...
Name: Melinda Williams
Entry word count: 738 words
Manuscript word count: 90,000 words
Link number: 28
“I think we could use a break from all this depressing stuff.” He watched the rain fall through the darkness of the yard. A tilted grin replaced his stern expression. “What do you say?”
“You’re joking.” He couldn’t possibly mean what I guessed.
“No, I’m not.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come on, it’ll make you feel better. It always does me.”
I didn’t move.
“Fine. I guess I’ll have to go by myself.” He jumped from the porch and walked into the downpour. He stopped when he reached the driveway and turned toward me again. His black eyes only met mine for a second before he closed them and tilted his face to the sky. His arms outstretched on each side, palms up.
I stood and leaned against the pillar. Peace filled me as I watched him soak in nature so pleasurably. His divine power seemed to glow around his noble stature. The most graceful thing I’d ever seen.
I decided to do what I normally wouldn’t and jumped down into the wet grass. When I stood before him on the driveway, I matched his position. Soft drops of water licked the skin on my arms, face, and neck. I closed my eyes and let the supremacy of Mother Nature clear my head. I focused my senses on the setting, not letting anything else in. The sound of the heavy rain hitting puddles, the feel of water cooling my flesh, the satisfying smell of refreshed life.
Every inch of my body relaxed, and all my anxiety evaporated. Christian had been right. It worked. So easily, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t been enjoying this part of the world before. For the time being, nothing mattered. Something so simple, so beautiful, was more powerful than any drug.
When I opened my eyes again, Christian was watching me. His white shirt had become soaked and clung to his carved body. His dark hair, saturated, stuck to his forehead. Hunger pooled in his eyes.
“Nice, huh?” He stepped towards me. I stiffened, certain I didn’t look anywhere as good as he did completely drenched.
I nodded and folded my arms. The way he was looking at me brought cartwheel type stars circling my head. He slowly got closer and closer.
“You should teach that to everyone,” I said in a cracking voice.
“I just did,” he breathed near my ear and wrapped his arms around me. His palms pressed into the small of my back. I lost the ability to speak as my blood started flowing in rapid speeds. He leaned into me and rested his forehead on mine. His warm breath tickled the bridge of my nose. Mine came out just as rapid and heavy—I needed the extra oxygen to stay conscious.
My arms unfolded and came up over his. My hands ran the length of his arms and stopped just under his shoulders, my fingers sneaking under the hem of his sleeves.
A moan rumbled from his throat. “Do you know how nervous that makes me?” he said, his voice deep.
My grip immediately loosened, and I tried to back off.
He pulled me closer. “No, don’t.”
My hands returned to him.
“Your touch reminds me of heaven,” he said in a whisper. “Literally.”
I shuddered, sure I could pass out.
“This is the beginning of everything that matters,” he said before dropping his moist lips to mine. His hands moved the hair from the sides of my face and pulled me even closer, making each kiss more ardent than the previous.
My head fuzzed, and my hunger for him made it easy to forget the importance of breathing. We’d never been this alone before. His eager hold made it obvious he noticed it too. The delight from my blossoming feelings only increased when I thought of how extraordinary Christian was and how he loved me. It quickly grew overwhelming, but in a good way. I relished in every moment of it.
“Maybe we should get back,” he whispered between kisses. He seemed hesitant but eventually let his face drop near my neck, his hands remaining tangled in the back of my hair. “Yes, we should definitely be getting back,” he sighed.
The overpowering mood lingered, and we had to force ourselves away from each other. I easily felt the respect he had for me, which caused my feelings for him to heighten.