Posts Tagged ‘novel’

heros

 

 

Do you choose a hero as your main character or heroine? Why does it matter which gender? Does it affect the genre you write in or even challenge how you might think behind the main character?

The choice I always face when starting my books is finding whatever spark is that inspired it. Sometimes it’s a name that I’ve added onto; sometimes it’s a scene from a movie that I get so pumped about that I wish that I had written something similar or gives me an idea on how I could have done it differently with that premise. Sometimes it’s a person walking along the street with some feature like a colorful turban around wild curls that just fascinates me or a younger girl struggling to be taken seriously when she lacks height in a tall room or a strong voice. Something always triggers this for writers. It’s not always a character-but the question I want to ask myself after I write the premise and outline for the story is not what is next but who is going to be starring. Sometimes I fall in love with a good side character and end up realizing that I want a different main character to accompany them and partner up. I choose hero or heroine based on this: do I want to challenge myself and write from a guy’s perspective-something that I’m not familiar with since I’m a girl but yet know their actions from growing up with boys? Or do I want to appeal to that genre that I’m writing in or certain time period when a girl just wouldn’t have been included or doesn’t fit in? I ask these questions when writing a book because accuracy is so important even when writing for yourself. A girl just wouldn’t have been included in too many spy or war films long ago unless you want to step outside of the realistic world and dip into a sort of fantasy you create. Presentation for these books and historic knowledge will enhance your story and make it more believable to more than just a small crowd. Why not appeal to all sorts of audience with accuracy in your story? Everyone enjoys it when the writer takes time and research to carefully construct his story and tell a realistic tale. People want to be sucked into a world that they might live in. They need to be able to get lost in your pages if you want to become successful.

I recently went to see Wonder Woman in theaters and got a taste of that warlike image that women can be powerful and they can make a difference. It was refreshing without being heavy handed and enjoyable because it had enough historical accuracy to might have happened in that fantasy world. They set the bar with superheroes and long forgotten Greek mythology in a world where anything is possible if granted these powers. There is enough accuracy in the abnormality of a woman in a war and having no qualms about showing as much skin as she does that make this movie both funny and relatable.  It wouldn’t have been half as enjoyable if they had not described the time period like they did. It set the mood. It appealed to the genre. But it also appealed to more than just one audience.

This is why you need to be asking hero or heroine when you write your next novel. Which would accurately describe your story and fit in with their job and world they live in? If they lived in the past World Wars, perhaps the girl pretends to be a man to fight alongside her brother or avenge her lost love. I keep harping back to war, but it is an easy way of getting lost when writers insert random character unrealistically in worlds they don’t belong in. If they don’t belong, then explain why the oddity should exist in that world. Don’t just use a gender just to fit back into whatever you are comfortable with and continue the same cookie cutter character in an unrealistic role for them. Appeal to the genre. Appeal to the audience. And don’t be afraid to challenge yourself. Writers don’t become authors just by writing stories. Writers become authors when the audience lives their story.

When you start your next book, ask yourself: hero or heroine?

 

xoxo,

Ella

 

Advertisements

 

How far are you willing to go to get your work published? Are you willing to break your morals and maybe your comfort zone in writing? Are you willing to let someone else dictate what you write? Are you wanting to write your book or someone else’s? The real kicker, or what I’m really trying to ask is this. 
Are you writing for yourself or are you writing to be famous?
  

Your writing isn’t fodder for the cows and certainly won’t capture anyone’s attention if they aren’t into it. And guess what? If you aren’t into it, they won’t be into it. 

Another reason not to write just for filler words unless you happen to be that kind of writer like much of journalism. I have nothing against journalism, in fact, I love seeing how a writer can draw you in knowing exactly how to read his audience. It’s impressive and it takes skill. The only problem I face with journalism is that I want to draw you into the world that I’ve created and put your eyes to the scope that I’m peering through. 
  

I know that my life is a series of ups and downs and people come and go in and out of it. Life happens and I have to get over it. I’m a highly dramatic person and love a good bit of theatre in my life to an extent. The problem that I’m faced with is that I care so much about things that it affects my mood drastically and it isn’t healthy. Take breakups or friendship betrayals or petty things that someone has said or a particular weird character or even that fuzzy feeling. I take it and I mold it. I scribble and scratch and fill up the pages until my fingers ache. And then I move on. 


Writing is my outlet and however busy I get, I still need that outlet. Anyone can be a writer. Anyone can be technically a good writer. I want to be the best. I strive to be the best but I also know that my writing is something that God gave me from the beginning. I can’t ignore it and I don’t think I would want to live without it. It fascinates me. I love learning and practicing it. I love notebooks, writing prompts, new pens, coffee and tea shops and all things snug and ink smelly. (Hopefully all you writers get what I mean by that and don’t think I’m just eccentric :P) 
My point is, writing shouldn’t be just about pleasing an audience or just getting an audience. Maybe your calling is the gossip column in the newspaper or magazine and that’s what you really love to write but honestly, I feel like even if I didn’t have any audience at all, it wouldn’t affect my ability to write. I don’t thrive off my audience. I enjoy it; it makes me so happy to know that someone enjoys reading it and catches a glimpse of what I’m portraying. But it isn’t about the looks that people give you but what you have to say. I want people to read my work and know just why I wrote it. I want it to pierce their soul and leave them thinking about it for days or years. We are but simple humans, bound to this earth mortally. You may remember me in heaven but not everyone will. But they may remember something that lives on. 

My ideas and words. 


I want you to have that gut surge when you read my book and ask yourself why you felt that way. I want to awaken something in you that you didn’t know you had. I want to strike home with you and have that connection. I want to give you not just binoculars to see through my eyes but get up close and personal through every fear and joyful moment. 
I want to hand you the glasses to my life and world. 


   

 

Xoxo,
Ella 

 

Ha! Jokes on the title when you come here thinking it’s more advice and then you realize that I’m just as lost as you are.
When publishing for your own book, you use social media, hashtags, friends, connections, maybe get an agent eventually and try to make it.
But how on earth do you become such a legend when it’s by yourself? I need advice y’all and I need it from all you writers and publishers out there and even if you have agents or publishing houses you know would look over or just critique my writing to be something. I want to finish this book this year and get on with self publishing if the agencies don’t work out.

Send help.
I need y’all’s help.
Xoxo,
Ella

This is my begging face, y’all

 

Hey, y’all, I’m going to be posting my work every now and then just to get something out there and get some input from you writers and authors who have already made it and would love to help me critique a few things. (Plus, when is it never not fun to post some of your work that you are super proud of?)

 

  I am still continuing my interviews-although most of them will be most likely written since the interviewees are either too busy to make time to be socially awkward with me on camera or live in a completely different state/country. (Big shout out to all those who have taken the time to answer my questionnaire and pour their personalities and past over the paper and/or camera!)

  “In the Works” will be a small series based solely upon my projects that are-well, you guessed it- in the works. I’ve been working on a number of stories and switching back and forth whenever I have a particular burst of energy and spurt of ideas to add to the growing plot, characters, and background. 

 

  My baby right now has to be Freefall. I wanted to delve into some sci-fi while playing around with the perspective of four characters-two girls, two boys. The girls are obvious since I enjoy writing about girls far more than boys. In truth, I understand them better and for obvious reasons. The boys are more of a challenge since it would force me to think like a boy and test my pencil whenever I felt the desire to draw my characters. Each project/story of mine I like to switch up different ideas and various backgrounds solely to test my ability to see if I can pull it off. Most stories will never reach the shelves in publication but the practice is all I need to become what I really want for my future as an author. 

  Freefall is set way into the future when the earth is barely inhabited and the main hub of activity is the Nova Commander S16, an enormous Death Star of the galaxy. Freefall was heavily influenced by Ender’s Game, a book by Orson Scott Card and a pretty fabulous read, IMO. I’m not used to sci-fi, most of it usually creeping me out too much, but this seemed like the right step to take since I’m entirely too caught up in Fantasy and the occasional Romance. These characters are different than any others I have tried to come up with. Most of my girls being total badbutts content on keeping their mouths clean, being in the mid-teen age range, and falling in love with the first boy who happens to look their way. I wanted to switch it up slightly, giving my girls a different outlook. Yes, they still are determined to win every single fight and carry the same morals as every other girl has to do and yes, they do fall in love at some point and time. But not with any of the main four, and in one of my OC’s case, he has been dead for years. The age range of the four have been changed to late teens, early twenties in regards to the jobs aboard the Nova Commander. Both boys have no love interest within the four, and neither do they have any inclination to keep finding attraction elsewhere. Besides the occasional flirtation, they stick mainly to their job and don’t veer off task with pointless drama. They know what is at stake here and they figure out a way to fix it. 

  Or do they? 

  I won’t give you the full on details for that would slightly ruin the book. One day, I hope to make this baby project a part of my collection of published novels. I’m excited to keep working on this and giving you brief updates on my work and daily projects going on. 

 

  Scan0046

  {[my sketch of Ekaterina Bennett, one of the main OC’s in my story Freefall. I am going to continue this short series of drawings for each of my mains long after the final battle when they are most broken and scarred. Her tag is “Almost Human” up in the top right corner]}

  “Apprehension rolled uncomfortably in Katty’s stomach-a feeling that she was not used to. Her fingers twitched against her crossed arms, their itch bothering her. Why should she be so jumpy? It was not as if she could lose to the newbie. Somehow, she had convinced herself that Gypsy was indestructible. There was something so hard about her. She knew what the problem was. She had no idea what she was up against. Rolling her eyes and huffing her exasperation, Katty raked her tongue across the smoothness of her front teeth and sucked in sharply. A quiet, hissing slurp jolted her back into consciousness. Gypsy had gone so quickly up in rankings that she was to face her on the mats. There had been a brief set of rules that banned teammates from fighting against one another in the spirit of dividing the team, but it all depended on how the cadets moved. Their fluidity, styles, and finishing techniques literally matched up perfectly in few teams, narrowing down the results that the doctors and Heads had to make to set the Venture teams together. The rules had been disbanded quickly. This match would assure that the two were paired almost perfectly for a team together. Katty had been watching Gypsy’s performance and absolutely hated her opponent’s tactics. They mirrored hers too well.

  Across the mat, she hoped to catch her opponent’s eye. She doubted that her surefire expression of complete determination would shake her as it had with past opponents but one could always hope. Surprisingly, Gypsy never glanced directly at her. Her gaze was fixed on the mats or roving around the entire training room never once making eye contact with a single person. There was something almost listless about her gaze, her focus solely upon mental capabilities. The alarm rang, ending the match in front of them. A small crowd had gathered around the mat in anticipation for the fight. Ekaterina shuddered internally as her palms began to sweat beneath the wraps bandaging her hands. A few janitors hurried upon the mat, briefly mopping it up and sweeping debris off of the surface. It was the cleanest it would become for their match. Somewhere up above, Ekaterina could make out the faint outline of a box that seemed to materialize from the wall. No one would notice without actually looking for it. It hid itself well. Shaking her bob slightly, Katty blinked several times in rapid succession. What was wrong with her focus?

  She scowled, not able to keep her true feelings underneath the surface anymore. She should have felt sickly satisfied that she could go head to head against Gypsy and win, but this one was different. Katty was sure of it.

  Stepping onto the mat, Katty began a few loosening stretches to get her muscles warm, all the while keeping her eyes trained on the smaller figure ahead of her. Gypsy had bared herself of her jacket, clad only in a black tank that showed off her muscles and copper skin with her prominent collarbone protruding and tight sweatpants drawn closely to her ankles. She left nothing to hang off of or get ahold of during the fight. She was lean and muscled, faint scars etching places on her skin that her random spray of freckles hadn’t covered. What had she been through?

  Bouncing back and forth between her left and right foot, Gypsy rolled her shoulders back to ease her tensions, her muscled shoulders flexing briefly. Her eyes glowed against her darkness, her lips narrowing further in concentration.

  Katty was not aware of the rest of their brief warmup, but the match had begun before her mind could comprehend the bell ringing.

  There was not anyone else besides Gypsy and herself. Bouncing between each foot, Gypsy concentrated on Katty’s middle and lunged before Katty would have anticipated. Attacking first had never been her style, but this time, she seemed to have different tactics at first. She fell back easily into her style once she had landed her first three blows, fully rattling Katty. Scowling darkly, Katty felt her instincts take over. She swiped her legs underneath the quick feet of her gypsied companion, knocking her off of her balance. Slamming down her forearm against Gypsy’s throat, she kneed her in the gut and scrambled to get her right arm restrained before she could land a blow. Gypsy was too quick for her.

  A fist slammed into Katty’s unprotected side, her breath leaving her body with a satisfying whoosh. Sucking wind, Katty was thrown from Gypsy’s tight body and slammed down into the mat. Soot burned into her skin as she scrambled up to her feet. Gypsy was already on her feet but she seemed slowed for some reason. Her attack came like liquid honey. Hurriedly, Katty ducked her punch and head-butted her backwards. She felt something pop within her opponent, and Gypsy let out a pained half scream before staggering backwards. Gypsy’s face turned a sickly white, her freckles standing out sharply, eyes flashing brightly before dulling as her eyelids closed. She fell backwards, clutching her middle where Katty must have broken something or heavily bruised it.

  Heart hammering within her, Katty stared at the figure barely twitching on the floor and let her breath out that she must have been holding the entire time. Oxygen rushed into her system as the nervousness flowed out. She couldn’t help a satisfied smirk. She had won.

  Medics rushed to Gypsy’s motionless body on the mat’s corner, but Katty had already exited. She had won and that was all she cared about. Her legacy was still intact. No losses besides Sholto. With a pang, she realized the hatred that had bubbled up within her at her first and only loss versus her teammate. That had begun the long hatred for the tall, young man although Katty often attributed it to his horrible attitude. No one particularly cared that she hated him or her reasons; but her justification wasn’t that she was bitter that she had lost but that it was his fault for being a smug, know-it-all tag. Wincing slightly, Katty scooped up her belongings and returned quickly to the locker room. Wasn’t that what she was? Her rebuke of herself echoed in her mind. She shook this feeling off as she stripped to get in the showers.

  It didn’t matter. Gypsy was a part of the rest of them and they would all burn. It didn’t matter who she was anyway.

  It didn’t matter who Ekaterina turned into either to get her goals.

  At least, she told herself that.”

 

 

  I hope you enjoyed my brief snippet of my newest baby! 

 xoxo, Ella

Monica Bond interview

Monica Bond interview

She’s still alive!

 

 Multiple apologies for my extreme absence. My life took an enormous turn and either became extremely busy or I couldn’t put my pen to paper and not sound ridiculously stupid. (At least, in my head :P) My project for the near future is to continue a series of videos and/or written interviews with various writers that I know. Hopefully this will gain some much needed exposure for them and explain to you why their book series needs to be read. After all, isn’t that what we are all here for?

   My first interview was with one of my best friends, Monica Bond, who was one of my NaNoWriMo writer buddies who kept me up to date with all of the latest books that I needed to read, (still do since I’m a lazy procrastinator when it comes to finishing anything) and met me for frequent Starbucks dates where we forced each other to write our wordcount for that day and to finish out the goal. Her book was actually the second written in a series of books she refers to as The 8th Day of the Week. Portal, the first book, and Time, her second finished novel, are soon to be published; I will post the new links to our pages of books that we plan on publishing in the near future. Be looking forward to these new videos and interviews with my lovely friends and watch for lists of questions that could help you further improve your writing!

 xoxo,

 Ella