In a much earlier post this year, I wrote about finally taking that dip and joining the Queensland Writers' Centre, a Queensland-wide writing association providing all kinds of resources to all types of writers.
One of these resources is writing competitions, and they are currently running one called 'The TWC/Hachett Manuscript Development Program for Emerging Writers'. It's a competition in which you pay $50, give them a one-page synopsis of your book, along with the first 50 pages of your story. If you're one of ten manuscripts selected, you get to go on this four-day retreat in November and meet the big name publishers/editors who will dissect every aspect of your manuscript!
So I have spent... oh I don't know, about 3 to 4 solid weekends condensing my 120,000-odd word of Michael & Lizzy I to a one-page synopsis. I have proof-read my first 50 pages of the book that is now titled as 'Peeling Layers'. I have re-written the Prologue to be just that; a Prologue - a few sharp paragraphs that set the tone of the whole book.
I feel like... I'm about to go on a super-duper important, prestigious job interview. Tomorrow, I will print all these, insert my manuscript and application form into an Express Post envelope, and send it off to QWC. And then, the waiting game begins. I know it is by no means conclusive whatsoever, but this will be my first ever... most forward step in getting my book read by someone other than those I count as friends, and my stomach is all knotted, my anticipation level is on an all-time high I can hardly sit still.
To say I'm nervous is a bit of an understatement; to say that the whole prospect is daunting barely scratches the surface. I want, of course, to be one of the ten applicants selected (and heck, it's such a small number considering that this competition is open Australia-wide). I just hope... that the feedback I'm getting will be more positive than "um... this is all utter crap!" (yes, I know that they won't ever say it that bluntly, but still...)
So, without further ado, this is the Prologue I've retyped last night - the beginning of all beginnings; the overall tone of 'Peeling Layers'.
On paper, my name looks and sounds just like every other female in this Western-dominated country. When one comes across it, you would immediately conjure up an image of a fair-skinned, blonde-haired, blue-eyed bombshell; with thick, luscious eyelashes; long, hooked nose; and small, delicate thin lips.
This image is further heightened when one talks to me over the phone. I sound like every other Caucasian out there, having no accent or difficulty in conversing in perfect English, with a speed as fast as a speeding bullet.
I remember going to the dentist with my Mother at the age of five, being stared at by the nurse as if my Mother and I were sporting spots all over our skins and tails behind our backs. It was my first taste to racial discrimination, but certainly not my last.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
The Last Stroke of the Pen...
As of two minutes ago, I have, after a long session of procrastinating, finally written the last section to finish off Michael & Lizzy II!
There is a bittersweet feeling that comes with finishing this off. On one hand, I feel... liberated! This section has been the one I have been putting off for so long - partly because it involves a lot of research to the settings and ideologies of two vastly different countries (both of which I have NEVER been to before), and therefore don't feel confident in writing it.
On the other hand though, there has been quite a lot of angst on my part, knowing that once I've written that last word of the section, my 'love affair' with these characters will also come to an end (so to speak). The 'Michael & Lizzy saga', as I have endearingly termed it, has been a significant part of my life since... 2007 I believe (oh my GOD - I can't believe it's that long ago!) that saying goodbye to them feels almost like losing an arm.
But saying goodbye to them I must, even if it's only for a little while. So long, Michael Bradford and Elizabeth Hartley; it's been a wonderful shy-of-four-year ride. I have had a wonderful time shaping each of your characters, and the characters of others closest and dearest to you. I have enjoyed every minute of writing down all your adventures. I will, of course, revisit you from time to time, in the name of editing, proof-reading, and just to remind myself everything that had happened to you in the ten-year span of your lives.
There is a bittersweet feeling that comes with finishing this off. On one hand, I feel... liberated! This section has been the one I have been putting off for so long - partly because it involves a lot of research to the settings and ideologies of two vastly different countries (both of which I have NEVER been to before), and therefore don't feel confident in writing it.
On the other hand though, there has been quite a lot of angst on my part, knowing that once I've written that last word of the section, my 'love affair' with these characters will also come to an end (so to speak). The 'Michael & Lizzy saga', as I have endearingly termed it, has been a significant part of my life since... 2007 I believe (oh my GOD - I can't believe it's that long ago!) that saying goodbye to them feels almost like losing an arm.
But saying goodbye to them I must, even if it's only for a little while. So long, Michael Bradford and Elizabeth Hartley; it's been a wonderful shy-of-four-year ride. I have had a wonderful time shaping each of your characters, and the characters of others closest and dearest to you. I have enjoyed every minute of writing down all your adventures. I will, of course, revisit you from time to time, in the name of editing, proof-reading, and just to remind myself everything that had happened to you in the ten-year span of your lives.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
To Third Novel and Discipline...
I have been battling to overcome this dilemma for the past few days (and not doing a lot of writing on either the remaining Michael & Lizzy II or Evelyn as a result...)
I have had this idea brewing in my mind of yet another novel. There's not much detail in it as yet, apart from the fact that it involves a love story (that shouldn't come out as a surprise any more, should it?), set in a fantasy-like timeline and places (I'm thinking sort of like The Lord of the Rings era, without the wizards/elves/dwarves), and the main characters are a prince and a princess from neighbouring kingdoms.
On one hand, this is, by far, one of the most exciting aspects of writing a novel. The beginning - there are so many unknown variables, so many ways the story can take shape, so many names to be given to the characters, so many personalities to be attached to each and every one of them. I have to say also, that at this stage is where my brain works to the best of its capacity, and often, this will also trigger further inspirations for the other novels I'm currently working on.
On the other hand... let's see; since I've started writing Evelyn, I've noticed in myself that I've been majorly neglecting the fate of Michael & Lizzy II, a novel that is so close to completion. I find my inspirations sometimes running like its tail is being chased on fire for Evelyn, but... very little of it is going to Michael & Lizzy II. Working on another novel means that I have three (collapses!) unfinished novels rather than two. And I don't think my conscience can take that...
So it's time, I guess, to discipline myself, more than I have ever had to. I NEED to finish Michael & Lizzy II - it's been sitting there for far too long, untouched, unfinished. And to that end, I will TRY my best not to touch, or start anything else until that pen has written the very last word, of the very last section of Michael & Lizzy II.
I have had this idea brewing in my mind of yet another novel. There's not much detail in it as yet, apart from the fact that it involves a love story (that shouldn't come out as a surprise any more, should it?), set in a fantasy-like timeline and places (I'm thinking sort of like The Lord of the Rings era, without the wizards/elves/dwarves), and the main characters are a prince and a princess from neighbouring kingdoms.
On one hand, this is, by far, one of the most exciting aspects of writing a novel. The beginning - there are so many unknown variables, so many ways the story can take shape, so many names to be given to the characters, so many personalities to be attached to each and every one of them. I have to say also, that at this stage is where my brain works to the best of its capacity, and often, this will also trigger further inspirations for the other novels I'm currently working on.
On the other hand... let's see; since I've started writing Evelyn, I've noticed in myself that I've been majorly neglecting the fate of Michael & Lizzy II, a novel that is so close to completion. I find my inspirations sometimes running like its tail is being chased on fire for Evelyn, but... very little of it is going to Michael & Lizzy II. Working on another novel means that I have three (collapses!) unfinished novels rather than two. And I don't think my conscience can take that...
So it's time, I guess, to discipline myself, more than I have ever had to. I NEED to finish Michael & Lizzy II - it's been sitting there for far too long, untouched, unfinished. And to that end, I will TRY my best not to touch, or start anything else until that pen has written the very last word, of the very last section of Michael & Lizzy II.
Going Back to the Very Beginning...
I was recently asked (writing it like this sounded as though I was answering an interview question...) by a close friend of mine where I got my inspiration from.
I guess the short answer is "all over". I read a lot of books (though that amount has diminished significantly ever since I took up writing). I've read most of Jodi Picoult's books, loved some of her male characters, got a lot of ideas as to what schooling system in America was like (not that much different from here) and admired her writing style. I read the 600-800 odd pages of Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series, captivated by the world in which Jamie Fraser and Clare Randall Fraser lived in. I bawled my eyes out from half-way through 'The Time Traveler's Wife' by Audrey Niffeneggger, and sorry, the movie just didn't do it justice. I love love LOVE Paullina Simons' Alexander and Tatiana trilogy.
What I don't get from these books, I substitute in movies and TV series. Thanks to my husband, the movie buff who introduced me to all kinds of movie genres, not just romance, my inspiration is further fueled with scenes. Suspense gives me ideas to end sections in a cliffhanger manner, action provides me with chunks of gun-blazing, sword-buckling, fist-fighting, tongue-lashing stuff I can use (and spend a considerable amount of time trying to creatively describe 'punch', 'hit', 'kick' and 'shoot') for Eleanor and Evelyn novels. And romance... well... y'know... it fills my mind with all these endless tender moments I can write in-between ;)
Music. If books and movies give me the visuals, music provides me with the substance, much like red meat contains certain amount of irons. Sometimes, when I'm driving along, stuck in traffic, my mind escapes to the sound of music, and just by listening to the lyrics, I can sometime conjure up THE perfect scene.
But, at the very base of it, there are... my vivid dreams. Yes, you read that right. Most of my books originated because I had gone to sleep one night, woke up the next morning, recalled my dreams, and, with something that could only be described as a lightbulb moment, thought to myself, "Hey! I could write that! That would be a great section for a book!"
So... without further ado, this is the section that gave birth to the characters of Elizabeth Hartley and Michael Bradford; the beginning of the Ben Hur-sized books they are now.
“So…, what’s coming up in the Bradford’s social calendar?” she asks at last, breaking the somewhat deafening silence that has hung between them.
“We’re having a benefit dance for Cancer Research three weeks from now,” he replies quickly, smiling as he remembers the countless times she has asked him the same question; at least once a week, since they were both old enough to attend such a prestigious occasion.
“Black tie?” she guesses, turning her head around to meet his gaze.
“What else?” he challenges her back, rolling his eyes helplessly.
She chuckles slightly before burying her face in her cup once more, tilting the cup, and her head backwards, to drain the last few remnants of her hot drink. Slowly, he straightens himself up, resting both elbows on his thighs, scrutinising her feature; from her long, curled up, dark brown eyelashes, her pair of small, attentive, piercing Oriental hazel eyes, to her soft, light beige skin. He hesitates a moment, pondering, averting his glance down, watching his hands interlink together before he looks up at her again.
“Will you come with me?” he blurts out before he could have a chance to change his mind. Startled, her head jerks up, turning around and regarding him uncertainly.
“Michael James Bradford, are you asking me out on a date?” she teases lightly, her lips twitching in slight amusement as she tries to hide her nerves, her heart pounding loudly. This is it, Lizzy.
“I’m asking my best friend to be my plus one for a social function. If by the end of the night, we end up kissing…” He trails off, meeting her gaze as she regards him through slightly widened eyes, daring him to finish his sentence. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing that could ever happen.”
She turns away from him, pretending to be amused at her empty foam cup, frowning as she repeatedly turns the object around in her cupped hands.
“Liz, seriously, what are you…”
“Ok.” Her voice, so soft and casual, drifts through the air, carried by the wind. And for a moment, he sits there, beside her, unable to move a muscle, afraid to even breathe, wondering if he has, once again, only heard her answer in his mind.
“Sorry?” he asks, pushing his whole head slightly forward, dumbfounded. She turns around and meets his gaze bashfully, giving him a slight, crooked smile; a timid gesture she hasn’t given him since the day he introduced himself in the library on their first day of high school.
“I’ll go to the benefit dance with you.”
I guess the short answer is "all over". I read a lot of books (though that amount has diminished significantly ever since I took up writing). I've read most of Jodi Picoult's books, loved some of her male characters, got a lot of ideas as to what schooling system in America was like (not that much different from here) and admired her writing style. I read the 600-800 odd pages of Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series, captivated by the world in which Jamie Fraser and Clare Randall Fraser lived in. I bawled my eyes out from half-way through 'The Time Traveler's Wife' by Audrey Niffeneggger, and sorry, the movie just didn't do it justice. I love love LOVE Paullina Simons' Alexander and Tatiana trilogy.
What I don't get from these books, I substitute in movies and TV series. Thanks to my husband, the movie buff who introduced me to all kinds of movie genres, not just romance, my inspiration is further fueled with scenes. Suspense gives me ideas to end sections in a cliffhanger manner, action provides me with chunks of gun-blazing, sword-buckling, fist-fighting, tongue-lashing stuff I can use (and spend a considerable amount of time trying to creatively describe 'punch', 'hit', 'kick' and 'shoot') for Eleanor and Evelyn novels. And romance... well... y'know... it fills my mind with all these endless tender moments I can write in-between ;)
Music. If books and movies give me the visuals, music provides me with the substance, much like red meat contains certain amount of irons. Sometimes, when I'm driving along, stuck in traffic, my mind escapes to the sound of music, and just by listening to the lyrics, I can sometime conjure up THE perfect scene.
But, at the very base of it, there are... my vivid dreams. Yes, you read that right. Most of my books originated because I had gone to sleep one night, woke up the next morning, recalled my dreams, and, with something that could only be described as a lightbulb moment, thought to myself, "Hey! I could write that! That would be a great section for a book!"
So... without further ado, this is the section that gave birth to the characters of Elizabeth Hartley and Michael Bradford; the beginning of the Ben Hur-sized books they are now.
“So…, what’s coming up in the Bradford’s social calendar?” she asks at last, breaking the somewhat deafening silence that has hung between them.
“We’re having a benefit dance for Cancer Research three weeks from now,” he replies quickly, smiling as he remembers the countless times she has asked him the same question; at least once a week, since they were both old enough to attend such a prestigious occasion.
“Black tie?” she guesses, turning her head around to meet his gaze.
“What else?” he challenges her back, rolling his eyes helplessly.
She chuckles slightly before burying her face in her cup once more, tilting the cup, and her head backwards, to drain the last few remnants of her hot drink. Slowly, he straightens himself up, resting both elbows on his thighs, scrutinising her feature; from her long, curled up, dark brown eyelashes, her pair of small, attentive, piercing Oriental hazel eyes, to her soft, light beige skin. He hesitates a moment, pondering, averting his glance down, watching his hands interlink together before he looks up at her again.
“Will you come with me?” he blurts out before he could have a chance to change his mind. Startled, her head jerks up, turning around and regarding him uncertainly.
“Michael James Bradford, are you asking me out on a date?” she teases lightly, her lips twitching in slight amusement as she tries to hide her nerves, her heart pounding loudly. This is it, Lizzy.
“I’m asking my best friend to be my plus one for a social function. If by the end of the night, we end up kissing…” He trails off, meeting her gaze as she regards him through slightly widened eyes, daring him to finish his sentence. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing that could ever happen.”
She turns away from him, pretending to be amused at her empty foam cup, frowning as she repeatedly turns the object around in her cupped hands.
“Liz, seriously, what are you…”
“Ok.” Her voice, so soft and casual, drifts through the air, carried by the wind. And for a moment, he sits there, beside her, unable to move a muscle, afraid to even breathe, wondering if he has, once again, only heard her answer in his mind.
“Sorry?” he asks, pushing his whole head slightly forward, dumbfounded. She turns around and meets his gaze bashfully, giving him a slight, crooked smile; a timid gesture she hasn’t given him since the day he introduced himself in the library on their first day of high school.
“I’ll go to the benefit dance with you.”
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