These day in the life of an author posts are designed to show you how thrilling and action packed a writer’s day is. Actually — no. I’m really hopping to scare off any potential authors, less competition.
So new week – new day – Tuesday Oct 13.
The writerly stuff I’ve done today – for hours I mulled over 35 words. Yes, that’s right I spend tons of brain power on 35 little words. Trying to come up with a pitch for a contest. So far I’ve come up with this: genre, women’s fiction
Professor Beatrice Blake faces a millennial meltdown. At twenty-six she still feels like the awkward fifteen year old that entered the university – time to defy the boss, ditch the boyfriend, and grow up.
Still working on this. Critiques rolling in from the Facebook group.
The contest also asks for the first 250 of the manuscript. That was easy and hopefully up to snuff. The opening of Beatrice Blake, Novice goes like this:
Beatrice fought against the bone deep fatigue and the emotional exhaustion that came after a week of twelve hour days filled with hard labor. Only adrenaline, nervousness, and possibly the thirty ounces of Coke she’d drunk that day, kept her standing—that and the fact that this was good-bye. Beatrice looked up at Liam, her brother’s lifelong best friend and, this week, her personal savior. She loved how tall he was, that even at her five foot eight inch height she had to tilt her head back to see his face. She realized that once again, despite trying to be conscious of it, despite knowing it was wrong, they stood too close, too close for a married man and his best friend’s sister to be standing. She took a deliberate step backward.
Liam spoke in a low voice. His wife slept in the next room, her grandfather snored in the guest room down the hall. “You sure you’re okay to drive tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine. I don’t have much choice. I’m presenting at the university seminar in two days and classes start Wednesday. I’ll push through to Salt Lake in one go. That’ll give me a day to prep for the seminar and get Grandpa somewhat settled.” She watched her fingers as they twisted the hem of her shirt refusing to look at Liam’s hazel eyes because if she did she’d melt like chocolate left in the summer sun.
I also signed up for NaNoWriMo – that is National Novel Writing Month. I WILL write 50,000 words in my Honeysuckle Yellow story – in ONE month. Along with signing up I created a synopsis for the novel.
For Anne Shirley O’Maille working at her aunt’s New York City real estate office is a means to an end. Her real passion is raising bees in the city and volunteering with the NY Urban Farm Project. The job does have its perks, like meeting Prince Niccolanio Marco Padovan, a modern day decedent of a royal Italian family. As the daughter of an Ohio college professor Anne feels out of her league in Nicco’s social circle. Short and curvy with red hair and freckles to boot she thinks she’s no match for the socialites always surrounding him. Not to mention she crossed her aunt’s harridan ways one too many times and finds herself fired and barred from the attic apartment that came with the job. Between couch surfing, working odd jobs, tending her bees, and teaching residents of the projects how to raise food in empty lots Anne has no time for romance.
Nicco is enthralled with Anne’s sea-green eyes, her smarts, and down to earth genuine style. Besides, who couldn’t help but fall in love with the first girl to teach you how to extract nectar from a honeysuckle. When Giovanni, his brother, comes into town (sure he’s a scoundrel but, eh, he’s family) Nicco convinces Anne to meet him. As she walks onto Giovanni’s yacht a flood of ten year old suppressed memories rise to the surface. Anne accuses Giovanni of drugging her and holding her captive for twenty-four hours. At the same time Nicco gets a telegram from Nonna back in Italy, she still thinks calling across the Atlantic too expensive. Somehow she’s been bamboozled and is embroiled with the mafia. Now Nicco must see his brother pays his dues, rescue Nonna from hit men, while trying to win over Anne’s heart.
Yes, finally the story I’ve thought about for so long is coming to life. It is all plotted out and character sheets are made up for the main players. I can’t wait for the details to come together. It feels like magic flowing from my fingertips. (In May I wrote this post about plotting out Honeysuckle Yellow)
Intermixed with sitting at the computer I washed all the bed-covers. Now on the dishes.
Yes, the writing life is glamorous.
Come join us!