Moira Keith

There are so many things going on in my life right now and I have let myself get distracted from the one thing that truly relaxes me. Part of that is due to my continual head butting with the characters of my paranormal story. I managed to rope a nice 15k into the story, but have once again reached a stalemate with my hero and heroine. It was suggested to me, that there may be a slight issue of fighting my voice. That perhaps if I wrote what came to me rather than what I desired to write, I wouldn’t continue to have this problem.

Time and time again, I have divulged my desire to write paranormal. My story ideas seem to be limitless, but my biggest project to date has given me grief for more than a year now. Contemporary romance was not the genre I had envisioned writing, yet it is what I wrote and sold. Now with my frustration mounting and my desire to just write continue to plague me, I find myself looking back at a Buckling Down spin off story I had planned.  Justin Trent will get his story and it may be just the outlet I need at this point. I am tired of trying to wrestle my characters into submission. Hopefully, this will renew my muse.

And to my loyal support group who has helped push me along this far and is anxiously awaiting and routing for the paranormal, I do apologize. However, in order to do my hero and heroine justice, I need to step away from it for a bit.

Sláinte!

I remember certain things about the holidays from growing up. Sure there were toys that were memorable… though more often than not there were particular circumstances around the presents that left more of a mark (and not in a good way).

Truly the things I remember were the little things. When we were younger, we lived out of the country, but my parents still tried to keep family traditions the centerpiece of our holidays. Christmas Eve we were allowed one gift to open and it was always a pair of Christmas pajamas. Baking and home made chocolate covered cherries…well need I say more? Family and friends were also another major cornerstone in our holidays.

Later, when we came back to the states, we carried on a tradition that was something from my father’s side of the family. Christmas Eve was the night where the family did an open house. Friends, neighbors, and family stop by at the leisure and enjoy some time visiting. That has always been the one constant. Family and friends. Now I look at my kids. Granted they are only six, and to a child Christmas is about the gifts. I am sure it was for myself and my sister as well at that age. That being said, it is a bit disheartening, especially at a time when the economy is in the toilet, to see parents running around frantically trying to figure out how to buy their kids the hottest new toy, video game, etc.

I walked through the store and thought my kids don’t need any of this. They won’t appreciate it and its hard earned money that is getting dumped into things that will be broken in two weeks. Yes, I can hear people muttering under their breath about how it is about the children. Buy the damn toys and quit my whining. I get it and will be getting off the soap box shortly.

First though, I just have to say my peace. I think that this year has made me realize how over done things are and how far from the important things we’ve managed to stray. Traditions, family, and friends old and new are what make the holidays memorable. Twenty years from now the kids may remember the My Little Pony that was in their stocking or (dating myself here) the excitement of finding their first Cabbage Patch doll under the tree before Christmas morning and the hurt and disappointment that little re-wrapping fiasco brought on their parents, but more often than not the toys aren’t memorable. They aren’t what matters. We need to get back to what matters.

Okay I am done… my bah humbug moment has passed and I am off to re-discover the meaning of Christmas, because for my grandmother who’s absence is felt more and more every year, this was her time of year. She lived for this. She was good at it. She glowed, sparkled,and  lit up a room simply by being in it. One very important lady who helped teach us that laughter is an antidote to almost all of life’s ills. That as long as you had family and friends around you, well you were richer than Trump. I want to capture that. To be that woman. So grandma… I will try to make you proud.

Sláinte!

The gauntlet was thrown. Oh yes, ladies and gentlemen, it was. You all know I have a huge amount of respect and admiration for my fellow author Teresa D’Amario. HUGE. Well I had mentioned that I needed to find my motivation. Being the wonderful person she is, she found it for me. She challenged me to a duel. A fight to the death. The woman with the most words wins (and not this blog post does not count). She threw off the gloves and let me tell you, it was not a pretty battle. There was hair pulling, bitch slapping….

This was me about two hours in—–>

Okay so it wasn’t all THAT, but it was fairly intense. The challenge she gave me was that we would both write. Whoever had the most words written at the end of the night prevails. Becomes Queen of all that is Writing (sparkling crown not included) and will rule for all of five minutes. Well actually, the winner would get fifty pages of their work critiqued by the other. Pretty sweet deal right? Inspiring and motivational? Most definitely.

How did I make out? I have to start by telling you it was a nail biting experience. I had lots of distractions. My loverly sister was visiting and staying the night, there were midnight margaritas, Practical Magic, and did I happen to mention a video of a grown man replicating the baby dancing to Beyonce’s All the Single Ladies (which had me in tears)?

Who won, right? That’s all you want to really know, isn’t it? Don’t know yet. My word count started at 62,096 and it finished at…. well I will update you on that later. I am an author still hard at work, just taking a mental pause and writing this. Check back and update the number before I turn in for the night.

Update – Ending word count for the night 64,101. Not too shabby.

I have complained many times about my lack of progress over the last few months. Honestly, finding my groove again has been a bit difficult. The paranormal story that has been the very thorn in my side for the last year maybe two was shoved to the back of my mind. I felt I had altered the story so much that there was no way I could make the beginning mesh with the ending any longer and I was frustrated as hell.

My sister has become quite the paranormal reader. Since she had recently devoured such books as SheWolf and Tigress By the Tail by my loverly Teresa D’Amario, Kiss of Midnight by Laurell K Hamilton (another huge love of mine), and the Mortal Instruments series by Cassandra Clare, I figured it was time. I printed out the first ninety eight pages of my book and let her read it. All I can say is this.

There are many opinions out there that I value and you all know who you are, but there is just something about hearing the barrage of curse words streaming from my little sister’s mouth when she gets to page ninety eight and now has to wait for me to make up my mind to continue the story. Well how could I let my little sis down?

So, here we are and I finally broke the 60k mark. My characters took me on an unexpected turn and so far I am loving the direction. Hopefully, when all is said and done, I will soon type the last words with a sense of great satisfaction. That is what I am striving for… on top of attempting to blog more (you’ve heard that before), brainstorm my young adult story, and zombie story plotting. Full plate? Perhaps…