So Many Lessons

I figured out something important this week.  Don’t laugh.  I figured out why writing a book is hard.  Practice makes perfect, right?  The more you do something, the easier it gets.  I was thinking about these maxims while staring at a blank page making no progress on book 4 in the More Love in Andauk series.  I’ve written enough books by now that it should be easy for me.  Some aspects of it are easier.  I’ve learned quite a bit in the years I’ve been doing this whole writing thing.  Let’s not talk about how many years or I’ll have to pretend I’m sensitive about my age.  I’m not.  I just can’t tell anyone because all the people who keep trying to give me a senior discount will feel bad if they find out how many years I am from qualifying.  Seriously, it’s more than a few.

Next week I will figure out how to avoid tangents.

I was staring at the page where my new book was supposed to appear, and it occurred to me that all the practice I have writing books involves different books.  I don’t have any practice with this book.  It’s perfectly reasonable that it still feels like hard work from time to time.  I haven’t had any practice figuring out why this particular character is having so much trouble with her love life.

On a related note, I haven’t had any practice writing this particular post.  Because it’s related, it’s not another tangent.  It’s called “making an excuse.”  And I haven’t had any practice writing the short story I’ll start posting next month even though I should have had practice last year.  Someone gave me an idea for a Christmas story.  Somehow, I forgot to write it.  I can’t say much else about it yet, only that it will involve some familiar characters.  This is called “building suspense.”  I’m sharing a ton of lessons this month, one of which is called sarcasm. 

Let’s hope next month’s lesson isn’t “Don’t tell people you’re going to post a story you haven’t written yet because you might have to admit you didn’t figure out how to write it in time.”

The Moon Diamonds

I’m writing about a new book this month, but it’s not my book.  Now you might be wondering why I’m writing about someone else’s book.  I’m glad you brought that up because I have a whole list of reasons.  Some of these are my reasons and some are the author’s reasons.  I’m not telling which is which.

1) The first reason is simply because I want to write about someone else’s book.  It’s my blog.  I get to do whatever I want.

2) I said I would write about this, and I do my best to keep my word.  It must have been many years ago because I don’t actually remember saying I’d someday share news of this first book.  But it sounds like me, and I’m doing my best to keep what sounds like my word.

3) It’s a good book.  I have read and enjoyed it.  It has some political intrigue that isn’t usually my cup of tea, and I admit I had trouble keeping track of the large cast of characters.  But there is a ton of action and humor, which are my favorite parts of a fantasy novel.  If it makes me laugh, I like it.

4) This counts as a good deed.  I’m usually wary of authors promoting each other’s work because I know there’s a lot of tit-for-tat that taints the enthusiasm.  In this case, because it’s me and I know me, I know I’m not getting anything in return.  And because I know the author, I believe she is trying to forge a path God has laid out for her.  It feels good to have a small part in that.

5) I needed a topic for this month.  Any suggestion that I complain about a lack of ideas every other month is a total exaggeration on top of a mountain of hyperbole.  Still… I’ll take the low hanging fruit when it’s offered.

6) Consistency is important.  I have mentioned this author several times over the years.  She was writing entertaining interviews at a young age.  She helped populate a fictional town even younger and has understood for years that a real book needs real effort.  And there was that disastrous time we tried to write together.  It would be a glaring omission if I failed to comment on her published work, or the fact that I’m delighted she’s following in my footsteps.

7) Even though it’s not my book, I still get a teeny tiny bit of credit because of how I ended reason six.  Try to read The Moon Diamonds without seeing traces of my influence in the writing.  It’s not possible.  This is why I think some of my readers will enjoy it even though it’s a different genre.

8) Read reason one again if you need another reason.  Then after you’ve finished my latest, you can check out this newer book.

Heather (part 2)

Start with part 1 of this short story if you haven’t already read it or want a refresher.  Did you guess the guy?  You’ll find out in the first line of part 2 if you’re correct.

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    Heather tried to look for butterflies on the shelf, but her attention kept shifting to Adam, who was doing a better job looking for butterflies. He’d pointed out two more suggestions. Heather didn’t think either of them would be something her mom liked.
    “What was that word you said before?” he asked. “Butteriflied? Is that how your mom describes her collection?”
    “Uh, no.” Her face warmed. “That was just something that slipped out when I tried to explain that she only collects items where the butterfly is the first thing you see.”
    He nodded. His eyes sparkled with amusement. It wasn’t mocking or derisive. Heather allowed herself to smile at the nonsense word. She relaxed enough to actually think about her mom’s gift again. Nothing on the shelf in front of her seemed appropriate.
    Adam rounded a corner ahead of her, and a minute later his voice called, “Hey! Isn’t this what you were holding when I came in?”
    Heather caught up to where he was holding a tall, skinny vase. She recognized the slippery neck and took in the square base for the first time. It was covered with beautiful butterflies. The wings were colorful metallics, mostly in shades of blue and purple on a silvery background. “That’s perfect,” she said. “Mom will love it.”
    “Then why were we looking for something else?” Adam tipped his head in confusion.
    “I didn’t see the butterflies.”
    “On the thing in your hand?” His confusion turned into disbelief.
    “Well, Mrs. Johnson had just picked it up when you walked in, and – ” Heather clamped her mouth shut on the rest of that thought. She was not going to admit she’d freaked out at the sight of him.
    Adam stared at her for several moments, searching her eyes for the other half of the sentence. He must have read at least a hint because his expression softened. “I messed up so much with…”
    Mrs. Johnson’s footsteps made him cut off what he was about to say just before she reappeared at the bottom of the stairs smiling cheerfully. She was holding a lidless shoebox full of plastic toys. “Most of these light up. I think someone was collecting novelty lights, then sold the whole thing for five bucks when he got tired of it. I knew I couldn’t sell it here, but something made me buy it anyway.” She handed it to Adam. “Then I remembered the summer fling coming up at the church.”
    “These will be great prizes for the kids’ games,” Adam said. “Thanks.”
    Mrs. Johnson turned back to Heather. “Now we need to get you squared away.”
    “I’ll take this.” She held up the vase.
    “Good choice.” Mrs. Johnson smiled. “Of course, you do know your mom is likely to continue being stupid, especially after you show your appreciation.”
    Heather laughed.
    “Moms are like that,” Adam said from behind her.
    Heather had sensed he was still there, but she assumed he was slowly making his way to the door. She turned at his comment and saw him standing there as though he was waiting for her. Was he waiting for her? Heather finished her transaction as quickly as she could while still being polite.
    Adam moved towards the door in time to open it for her. “Heather?”
    She hadn’t processed what, if anything, she wanted to say before they parted at the sidewalk. She was relieved that he seemed to have something to say. “Yes?”
    “Um…” He rattled the box he was holding. “Mrs. Donnelly is waiting for this, but… I was on my way to Pans and Plates to try Noah’s alien pizza. Have you eaten? Do you… have time to join me?”
    “I’ve been wanting to check that out. Emily said it’s really good.”
    “Great. So you’ll wait for me while I drop these at the church? It’ll only be five minutes.”
    “Sure. I’ll save you a seat.”
    Adam nodded, tucked the box under his arm, and moved past her at a jog.
    Heather walked slowly, trying to sort through a million thoughts that all wanted to talk to her at once. She and Adam used to get along. That last interaction had been surprisingly natural, almost as though they’d returned to the time before Kayla imploded a bunch of relationships. Heather couldn’t help reminding herself that in the present Adam was unattached. She wished he would eventually see her as more than a friend, that he was coming back into her life in a significant way. But she managed to push those thoughts away and focus on being content that he was coming back for lunch.

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Don’t forget to preorder Eve’s Brother. That can be the next thing on your to read list.