Meet Minnette

Writers face many challenges. What are some of yours?
I'm afraid my biggest challenge is myself. There are times when I just plain and simply do not want to write - Don't gasp! It's true. That is always the toughest challenge. Good news, however. The more I write the easier it is to make the time to write. I find if I write even just a couple of lines a day, as long as I keep going it gets easier. It's when I stop that's the problem. I guess it's like any addiction...

Are you a Pantser or Plotter?
Both. I start out with all my outlines done, my characters defined, my goals/motivations/conflict honed down to the finest point and then all of a sudden, BAM! The characters develop minds of their own. It's infuriating, but they are usually right. Pesky characters anyway! I'm doing a lot more plotting than I used to. It does make it easier to write the book when you have a roadmap.

Are your books plot-driven or character-driven -
I LOVE my characters and they are always first and foremost in what I write. And no matter how much I torture them - and I do - they still love me. However, I have to have a good solid plot on which they can travel, so it's also very important. I get in trouble when they have no place to go, and, believe me, I hear about it.

Do you go with the flow or follow a schedule -
A little of both. My life is often a bit intangible; I never know what's going on from week to week. I've learned to be flexible. Schedules, though I try very hard to follow them, elude me sometimes, so I've had to court an attitude of adaptation. I write as much as I can when I can. I know that sounds a bit iffy, but it works very well. When I have a long block of time, I'm a jackhammer, cranking out thousands of words in a single bound. Or I watch House, whichever strikes my fancy at the time. Little breaks during the marathon are always necessary.

Is your research in advance or as you write?
I try to research as much as I can in advance first and then research for specifics when I get into the book. For example, I'm buried under volumes of books about gladiators right now because I'm getting ready to write the third book in my Centurion series The Gladiator Prince. This is invaluable because it gives me great ideas for the plot, setting, characters, etc. Then, as I'm writing, I research to the story. This is so important for me since I LOVE research and have a tendency to find myself helplessly lost in time. Basically, this means I find a plot point, setting, weather condition, costume, slang, or whatever I need and I research just that thing. It's amazing how quickly you can get answers once you've read about the basics. The rest is fill in the blanks.

How do you write the best with noise or quiet? Honestly, I've developed a deaf ear to pretty much everything around me when it comes to writing. In fact, silence is a bit intimidating for me. I raised six kids... I could shut out a hurricane, believe me.

Our characters claim much of our time as we spend hours in front of our computers capturing their stories. However, each of us has a cast of real life characters who inspire, encourage, and support us. Who are some of the many members of Team Minnette?
I have a myriad of people that inspire me, starting with my wonderful husband and kids. As far as my characters go they are usually a conglomerate of people I've known in life, from movies, TV, the news, and even from books and myself. I think we all build a piece of ourselves into every character we write, even the bad guys. Besides my family, I have an amazing circle of friends who inspire me in every word. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have any personality to speak of...

What are you working on now?
I have just finished two novels: A paranormal romantic comedy called "A Ghost of a Chance" and an urban fantasy called "The Bell Stalker," which is currently being ripped apart by my wonderful critique partners and beta readers. Both projects are being queried to agents and publishers as we speak (fingers firmly crossed). I am wrapping up my second children's book, "A Boy & His Lizard," which hits the stands in November, and am gearing up to start the above mentioned "Gladiator Prince," the third book in my Centurion series. After that, I've promised my readers the third book in my fantasy series, "Starsight." No rest for the terminally cracked, I guess.

What are five Things Minnette Has Around Her When She Writes?
My laptop, my toy poodle Pierre, my husband Matt (who listens to every word I write whether he wants to or not, without a single complaint and even makes me breakfast - eat your hearts out, ladies), a pile of thread bare paperwork that contains all the magical spells and incantations any serious writer needs (i.e. cheat sheets), and a 32 oz. bottle of water (or wine, depending).

Do you ever have writers block. If you do, how do you overcome it?
Wait. I have to catch my breath a moment, I was laughing so hard. Okay. The question should be, "Do you ever NOT have writers block." The scourge of the writer (well, after that pesky muse who keeps yelling at you) is writers block. I overcome it by approaching it from the side; I write anyway, even if it's something like, "All work and no play makes Minnette something, something."Once outflanked, usually things start coming to me. It's because of writers block that I started to use plotting tools, like OneNote (fabulous program, BTW). I can take a plot point and do some thinking about that until the blockage passes. Also, if I already have something written, I edit. Since I don't call it writing then it's not writers block, right?

Let's talk writing mechanics. How many drafts do you do? How many books can you complete in a year?
I think I average about twelve drafts (i.e. edited versions) of a book. I try to plow through the story to get it all down and then go back and do a series of edits. I know I'm done when I start changing things back to the way they were. Then I let my critique partners have a go, run it by beta readers, and when I get all of that back, I do the final "deep" edits. I think I have about six books in me a year (that's while I work my "regular" job). It depends on what I'm writing. Romances take a little less time than epic fantasy. Children's books take a little less than romances. When I'm actually writing, I'm very prolific... I just need to sit down and do it.

Do you have a method for promoting your books?
I have used lots of avenues for promotion from online communities (FB, Gather, Author Nation, etc. - see www.minnettemeador.com for a list of link where writers can promote) to paid advertising, to blogging, and interviews. Reviews and interviews on review sites are very helpful as is a monthly newsletter and emailing contact with new releases. I also do a lot of book signings and these always garner new readers. I've just recently hired someone to help me with publicity so I can concentrate on writing more. Promotion is a full time job.

Was writing fiction something you have always wanted to do? Did you write stories as a child?
I've always loved writing. It has always been a natural for me since I love to read. I've never met a genre I didn't like. I wrote a lot when I was a kid... but usually I just imagined being married to Spock, trouncing around the galaxy, and fighting off aliens while I followed the prime directive. Or going to Tangiers with Illya Kuryakin from The Man from Uncle. Or disguising myself with the other Mission Impossible team members to trick a drug lord into giving up the whereabouts of the governor he just kidnapped. Or sailing away with... You get the idea. We travel as far as our imaginations will take us and then write it down because... what else are we going to do?

SUMMER VACATION

posted by Amber Angel

My idea of summer vacation is ... working!

Yes, I admit to being a workaholic in the midst of change. I'm learning to play and relax. Some day in the distant future I may even learn to do nothing without feeling guilty.

There is a reason I enjoy working: I love the things I do and they don't seem like work.

I live with a pack of six dogs, and my mornings are focused on them. Then I spend some time working in my yard, surrounded by beautiful plants and flowers. The rest of my afternoons are spent creating a graphic design project, such as a Web site or a book cover. And in the evenings I write. Tossed into my days are outings with my two sons and my grandchildren, meetings with fellow writers, promotion of current books and, of course, all the tasks that make up life in general. What's not to like?

However, since I'm LEARNING to play, here's a fantasy vacation. My doggies and I arrive at our private tropical island. While the doggies explore the white sandy beaches and play tag with the warm waves lapping at the shore, I decide which of the many books on my to-be-read list I want to read first. After meeting with the private chef on what healthy and yummy meals--as well as decadent desserts--to eat during this vacation, I settle under a beach umbrella with a slushy cold drink. At sunset, the doggies and I watch Nature's color show on the horizon. After a delicious meal, we walk on the beach. Our beds are hammocks slung between palm trees, swaying slightly in the gentle breezes. Oh, did I mention that there's an exquisite house the size of a small castle with its own swimming pool and whirlpool tub, as if the turquoise ocean wasn't enough water?

The next day, we do more of the same. After about a week, I've been so good at playing that I allow myself to work--just a little--on my current writing project.

How about you? What's the best summer vacation you've had or fantasized about having?

Excerpt: Dragons among us

Aleda crawled from her sleeping bag and, individually, stretched her muscles. She’d always enjoyed camping. It was the only time she slept well. Something about the unpolluted air, the nights sounds of nature and knowing there were no other people about produced a sleeping potion no doctor could recreate. She dressed warmly against the morning chill and meandered to the stream to get water for coffee and cooking. Not having done much the day before, her ravenous hunger puzzled her.

“Must be the good mountain air.” She made coffee, scrambled eggs, and toasted bread with a slender wire camp toaster, which she held over the fire. As she sat in her chair enjoying the taste of food and quiet of the surrounding woods, hair on the back of her neck began to stand on end and her skin tingled. She shook off the feeling and poured another cup of coffee. The sensation of eyes observing her movements overpowered her senses and her amulet began humming, the sound increasing in volume with each passing minute.

“Enough!” Aleda tossed her plastic plate to the table with a clatter, stomped to her tent and retrieved a heavy coat. “I’ll nip this foolishness in the bud, right now!”

She hesitated as she started to storm from the camp. Camera. Quickly returning to her tent, she stomped away from her personal sanctuary, Nikon in hand, stomach complaining. Half a dozen paces from the camp, after wreaking a rushing flurry of birds into flight, Aleda realized, if she was to find out what was inducing her amulet to hum and her hair to stand on end, she would need to slow her pace—think before she stumbled into trouble. She proceeded into the stand of trees serving as the backdrop for her camp. Sauntering to nearest the evergreen, she placed her hand on the bark and felt a buzzing sensation tickle her palm. Aleda stumbled backward, dumbfounded by the commotion stirring within her. Logic and reason said she shouldn’t be sensing anything by touching the tree.

“This whole trip is turning out to be totally illogical.”

Aleda narrowed her eyes and concentrated on the skin of the tree. She began to see small creatures scurrying up and down the grooved surface of the bark, the scene recalling the Marquam Bridge merging into I-5 at rush hour. She pulled deeply of the air surrounding her and discovered she could taste ponderosa, yellow pine and western larch trees tinged by intermittent bursts of avalanche lily, trillium and huckleberry. Another deep breath captured faint blackberry and raspberry sensations. Standing very still and concentrating with an intensity she’d never utilized, Aleda began to recognize the buzz of life around her. In her ears, insect sounds whispered from every direction, her skin reverberated with the movement of air caused by birds flying and bees busy with spring activities. When the scene before her began to waver and tiny flashes of white light popped in her vision, Aleda realized she’d quit breathing. She pulled air into her lungs and crumbled to the soft pine needle and moss covered forest floor.

“What is happening to me? Why haven’t I seen these things before?”

“Because you were too busy ignoring them.”

Aleda loosed a shrill, piercing scream and jumping from the earthen floor into a defensive standing position. She whipped her head from side to side, her turquoise eyes narrowing to miniscule slits.

“Who’s there?” Completing a full circle, she found she was unable to locate the origin of the rumbling voice.

Silence met her question.

“Show yourself!” That’s stupid. What am I going to do if someone steps from behind a tree? Hit him with my camera? Why has my amulet stopped humming?
As she stood scanning the forest, her muscles tensed in readiness, a cacophony of rustling to her left snatched her attention. She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. There was the rotten egg smell again. Not as strong but still hanging in the air. She began an unsteady withdrawal, her breath scrapping raggedly against her throat.

The sounds of skittering pebbles and crunching dead leaves moved her direction. Aleda felt the air ripple then spotted a large, scaled, greenish-grey talon ten feet away. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. The light shafts coming through the overhead forest canopy began to luminess eerily just before the blackness overtook her.

Happy Fourth of July!

Hello all,

I could write volumes on the idea of freedom but for the sake of brevity and holiday, I won't.

My father is 82 years old. He joined the Marine Corps right after World War II, and he had four brothers who served in the military. I have an uncle who was at the piers in an open air jeep the day the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Another uncle was caught in the battle of the bulge in Germany during World War II. From the time my father was seven years old, he knew he wanted to be a Marine.

He served 24 1/2 years through the Korean War, the invasion of the Bay of Pigs in Cuba and 15 months in Vietnam. He did it because it was his honor to serve his country. He still considers himself a Marine. As the bumper sticker on his truck says, "Not as mean, not as lean, but still a Marine."

My family is not the only one to sacrifice for this country. We Angels had a dear friend lose a son in the current military conflicts where our country is aiding others to gain their freedom. Sometimes, it's very hard to understand why anyone would join the service and fight "over there."

But ask any citizen of a country where every move you make, every word you speak is put to the microscope for traces of sedition.

As writers, we sometimes forget the wonder of freedom. We're allowed to create worlds where the bad guys are detestible, the good guys shine in the light and we solve the problems of our imaginary world in 300 pages. We seldom give thought to the idea we could be thrown in prison for our words.

Think of all the things you do on a daily basis and the comments you make that, in any other country, might land you in jail. Freedom is hard won. Many lives were lost for us to be able to speak without checking every word we say.

Freedom is not free.

To every person who has given their time, their service, their children so that I may write this blog... thank you.

Sable Angel