The third annual CHASE THE DREAM contest will officially kick off on January 1, 2010. Once again, author Rachelle Chase (www.rachellechase.com) and Leigh Michaels are teaming up to offer what may be one of the best contests in the romance-writing world.
Details about rules and prizes and how to enter are on the contest website at http://chasethedreamcontest.wordpress.com/
But here's the short (unofficial) version: Enter the first 1,000 words of a romance novel (or novel with a romantic theme). Each week Rachelle chooses a finalist; each week author Leigh Michaels of Harlequin Romance fame will choose a non-winning entry to receive a mini-critique.
The eight finaling entries will all be reviewed by a panel of editors and agents. (This year's agents and editors include Alex Logan of Grand Central Publishing; Deb Werksman of Sourcebooks; Theresa Stevens of Red Sage Publishing; Susan Swinwood of Harlequin/Mira/Spice; Esi Sogah of Avon Books; Kelli Martin of Kumani Press; Christine Witthohn of Book Cents Literary Agency, and Laura Bradford of Bradford Literary Agency -- with more to be announced.)
No promises about what might happen this year, but in previous contests, many finalists have received offers of agent representation and requests for full manuscripts, and several have been published as a result of entering CHASE THE DREAM. (See my friend Jeannie Lin's story on her blog, All That You Desire.)
The contest is free, and they have great prizes -- including a free class donated by Gotham Writers Workshop, manuscript critiques, books, and other goodies. Check it out -- and polish up the first 1,000 words of YOUR book to enter!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Happy New Year!
Yeah, I'll be wishing you another one in a few weeks, but Happy New Year, folks! I will see you next year. ;D
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
What Do You Fear?
My reading has sparked interesting self-introspection, but I've decided I need to face my fears.
When I was an eight-year-old child, I came home and found my dog had hung himself. (He was a fence climber, so we had tied him inside the enclosure.) I tried to get him down, but he was already stiff. I must have been in a formative development stage because this has haunted me and shaped me in uncomfortable ways. But I've come to the conclusion this morning that I WANTED it to.
This makes me squirm. Why do I cling to this agonizing fear of loss? So much so, that I made it my hero's main flaw. This is not who I am! What's worse, it has taken me over so much that there are days I find it hard to operate because of the what ifs. Part of me shrugs and says "What ifs are a part writing, therefore, your fear has made you a writer. Don't knock it." I choose not to believe that. God made me a writer.
I must find a way out my self-made fear of losing loved ones before I am undone, but I know I am not alone in using my fears as a crutch or as a resource.
Today's homespun therapy question is: What do you fear and how do you use it?
When I was an eight-year-old child, I came home and found my dog had hung himself. (He was a fence climber, so we had tied him inside the enclosure.) I tried to get him down, but he was already stiff. I must have been in a formative development stage because this has haunted me and shaped me in uncomfortable ways. But I've come to the conclusion this morning that I WANTED it to.
This makes me squirm. Why do I cling to this agonizing fear of loss? So much so, that I made it my hero's main flaw. This is not who I am! What's worse, it has taken me over so much that there are days I find it hard to operate because of the what ifs. Part of me shrugs and says "What ifs are a part writing, therefore, your fear has made you a writer. Don't knock it." I choose not to believe that. God made me a writer.
I must find a way out my self-made fear of losing loved ones before I am undone, but I know I am not alone in using my fears as a crutch or as a resource.
Today's homespun therapy question is: What do you fear and how do you use it?
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Agent Marietta Zacker Answers Your Questions
You'll want to scroll down through this really long blog entry, but it might be worth it to you. Especially if there's a chance you write stories for children or young adults. The agent will respond to questions once a day through December 16th.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
New Film Adaptation
An online aquaintance sent this to me:
Just saw this on wikipedia: The film version of Snow Flower and the Secret Fan (Book by Lisa See)will be directed by Wayne Wang in early 2010. Original script adaptation by Angela Workman. Revised by Wayne Wang and Michael Ray. Produced by Florence Sloan, Wendi Murdoch and Zhang Ziyi, to star Zhang. Sounds interesting.
Interesting indeed! I loved this book, though I usually dislike the time period used in the novel. The events of the war only touch on the last twenty or thirty pages of the novel, so it's mostly about the friendship of two women. It's poignant and extraordinary. I look forward to the movie. Many thanks to Kristen for letting me know!
Just saw this on wikipedia: The film version of Snow Flower and the Secret Fan (Book by Lisa See)will be directed by Wayne Wang in early 2010. Original script adaptation by Angela Workman. Revised by Wayne Wang and Michael Ray. Produced by Florence Sloan, Wendi Murdoch and Zhang Ziyi, to star Zhang. Sounds interesting.
Interesting indeed! I loved this book, though I usually dislike the time period used in the novel. The events of the war only touch on the last twenty or thirty pages of the novel, so it's mostly about the friendship of two women. It's poignant and extraordinary. I look forward to the movie. Many thanks to Kristen for letting me know!
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Part Three: Beheading, Necksnapping
And now, the conclusion because I know you're all wanting to know how I could redeem this situation. :)
To recap, Aiyu is one of my secondary characters. He's a thirteen-year-old orphan who serves in a battle for his kingdom. He started this novel as an innocent. Lets see how far he's come by the end of this scene, which is 3/4 of the way through the book.
Outside the tunnel’s claustrophobic embrace, the smell of blood filled Aiyu’s nostrils. Haga’s life pooled and Aiyu blindly slipped in it. He clutched the bloody, damp earth at his feet.
The stench of blood hung on him. His vision adjusted to see Haga’s sightless eyes staring into his. Aiyu recoiled. Haga's expression was too empty to bear.
Aiyu turned and threw up in a bush. He trembled, shaking his head at the thought that he had killed with his bare hands.
His mind whirled, confused. The traitor was dead and that was good. But what had happened to Hong Aiyu? Was he a murderer now? He gagged once more and crawled to his friend’s corpse.
He arranged poor Haga’s body in an appropriate posture for the funeral pyre of Xien Ye.
"I’m sorry," Aiyu whispered. He dug in his girdle until he found what he wanted. Six wooden dice with red and black painted dots. He placed them on Haga’s chest.
I'm not a murderer. Not a mourner. I'm another victim.
He ran to escape the memory of Haga’s simple grin and trusting expression, his empty eyes and cooling fingers.
Aiyu would play sixes no more.
End of Chapter
Yes, it's horrific, (war is like that) but I didn't end the chapter with the butcher's death. That would have left the reader with a flat, unfinished taste in his mouth. Aiyu has gone from an innocent who refused to kill the enemy in battle, to killing in his master's defense (an earlier scene) to a vengeance murder, although he also defends an entire city in killing the butcher here. I use these situations to show:
1. The horror of battle, thereby grounding the reader in my book's reality
2. What battle/killing does to a soul - the emotional growth quotient, which further grounds the reader. (If your character doesn't grow and change with AT LEAST every major event in your book, you've missed a great opportunity and your reader will cease to believe in your characters.)
3. The advancing plot
Now you can rail on me for my sense of violence and inpropriety in having a thirteen-year-old boy in such situations. LOL Seriously, if there's anything you feel would improve this scene, please let me know.
To recap, Aiyu is one of my secondary characters. He's a thirteen-year-old orphan who serves in a battle for his kingdom. He started this novel as an innocent. Lets see how far he's come by the end of this scene, which is 3/4 of the way through the book.
Outside the tunnel’s claustrophobic embrace, the smell of blood filled Aiyu’s nostrils. Haga’s life pooled and Aiyu blindly slipped in it. He clutched the bloody, damp earth at his feet.
The stench of blood hung on him. His vision adjusted to see Haga’s sightless eyes staring into his. Aiyu recoiled. Haga's expression was too empty to bear.
Aiyu turned and threw up in a bush. He trembled, shaking his head at the thought that he had killed with his bare hands.
His mind whirled, confused. The traitor was dead and that was good. But what had happened to Hong Aiyu? Was he a murderer now? He gagged once more and crawled to his friend’s corpse.
He arranged poor Haga’s body in an appropriate posture for the funeral pyre of Xien Ye.
"I’m sorry," Aiyu whispered. He dug in his girdle until he found what he wanted. Six wooden dice with red and black painted dots. He placed them on Haga’s chest.
I'm not a murderer. Not a mourner. I'm another victim.
He ran to escape the memory of Haga’s simple grin and trusting expression, his empty eyes and cooling fingers.
Aiyu would play sixes no more.
End of Chapter
Yes, it's horrific, (war is like that) but I didn't end the chapter with the butcher's death. That would have left the reader with a flat, unfinished taste in his mouth. Aiyu has gone from an innocent who refused to kill the enemy in battle, to killing in his master's defense (an earlier scene) to a vengeance murder, although he also defends an entire city in killing the butcher here. I use these situations to show:
1. The horror of battle, thereby grounding the reader in my book's reality
2. What battle/killing does to a soul - the emotional growth quotient, which further grounds the reader. (If your character doesn't grow and change with AT LEAST every major event in your book, you've missed a great opportunity and your reader will cease to believe in your characters.)
3. The advancing plot
Now you can rail on me for my sense of violence and inpropriety in having a thirteen-year-old boy in such situations. LOL Seriously, if there's anything you feel would improve this scene, please let me know.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
New Market
Thanks to reader ClothDragon for this tip: The magazine crossedgenres.com has announced an upcoming issue around Science Fiction/Fantasy and Eastern settings. If you're interested, submit after March 2010. Publication is in May 2010. Their submission rules clearly ask writers and illustrators not to submit before March.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
How to Behead Etc. Your Characters Cont'd
So, you've found who you want to kill. Whether your character beheads them, snaps their neck or wooses out and only maims, please be sure to inform the reader what's happened. Leave no room for doubt. Is there blood, tissue, etc? What does your character see, smell, taste and touch during this scene? They must be hypersensitive to their surroundings in order for your reader to feel anything at all.
"Open!" The door rattled. "Damn door."
Aiyu risked another step. The traitor kicked the locked door. Aiyu edged closer. He couldn’t believe one of Xien Ye's citizens would do this. The familiar odor of pig wafted toward him.
Voice and smell locked into place and Aiyu knew this man. This was a butcher from Xien Ye's marketplace. When Aiyu and Zhang picked up their supplies, this man had sneered at and then insulted Zhang.
Zhang had hoisted up the little man by his lapels and shook him like a captured rodent until Aiyu had thought the man's neck might break. The butcher had stammered an apology and Zhang released him.
The traitor was part of Zhang's guild.
"Why won’t you open?" The merchant rattled the door. "Six strings of cash-"
In Aiyu’s mind, Liu Yoh’s white face, and Haga’s lifeless eyes flashed. Those men died for the people of Xien Ye – for this traitor.
"Grrraa!" Aiyu launched. He wished he hadn’t shouted. Too late.
The enemy whirled and blew tallow in Aiyu’s face. The flash of light let Aiyu glimpse the butcher's thin, corded arms. One of them flailed and Aiyu's knife clattered to the floor.
The boy ducked as the candle guttered out. Aiyu crouched on the floor until he found the traitor's feet. Aiyu kicked up and smashed his foot into the man's crotch.
The butcher collapsed with a grunt.
In a fury of searching fingers, Aiyu grasped the traitor’s head. He twisted hard. The neck cracked, and Aiyu leg go of the wobbly, detached head in his hands. The butcher slumped.
Aiyu struck the tunnel wall. Again. Again. He'd split his knuckles. His sobs of pain sounded distant — disconnected from himself. Rage surged again and he screamed. He took aim where he thought his victim lay and spat.
Aiyu thought he heard the spittle smack the butcher’s flesh. He stumbled the way he had come in.
"Open!" The door rattled. "Damn door."
Aiyu risked another step. The traitor kicked the locked door. Aiyu edged closer. He couldn’t believe one of Xien Ye's citizens would do this. The familiar odor of pig wafted toward him.
Voice and smell locked into place and Aiyu knew this man. This was a butcher from Xien Ye's marketplace. When Aiyu and Zhang picked up their supplies, this man had sneered at and then insulted Zhang.
Zhang had hoisted up the little man by his lapels and shook him like a captured rodent until Aiyu had thought the man's neck might break. The butcher had stammered an apology and Zhang released him.
The traitor was part of Zhang's guild.
"Why won’t you open?" The merchant rattled the door. "Six strings of cash-"
In Aiyu’s mind, Liu Yoh’s white face, and Haga’s lifeless eyes flashed. Those men died for the people of Xien Ye – for this traitor.
"Grrraa!" Aiyu launched. He wished he hadn’t shouted. Too late.
The enemy whirled and blew tallow in Aiyu’s face. The flash of light let Aiyu glimpse the butcher's thin, corded arms. One of them flailed and Aiyu's knife clattered to the floor.
The boy ducked as the candle guttered out. Aiyu crouched on the floor until he found the traitor's feet. Aiyu kicked up and smashed his foot into the man's crotch.
The butcher collapsed with a grunt.
In a fury of searching fingers, Aiyu grasped the traitor’s head. He twisted hard. The neck cracked, and Aiyu leg go of the wobbly, detached head in his hands. The butcher slumped.
Aiyu struck the tunnel wall. Again. Again. He'd split his knuckles. His sobs of pain sounded distant — disconnected from himself. Rage surged again and he screamed. He took aim where he thought his victim lay and spat.
Aiyu thought he heard the spittle smack the butcher’s flesh. He stumbled the way he had come in.
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