The Voices in my Head

If you haven’t figured it out already, I have many ideas floating in my head at one time. They all have a different style and interest as far as writing goes. We all, however, share the same muse. As such, it becomes cumbersome at points to write, especially when edits are due.

For most writers, the voices in our heads pounding out ideas never cease. Even as our pillow hits the bed, we’re conjuring up images of fair maidens looking for their true love, men in an epic battle to save someone from peril, or just figuring out how to give someone the willies in a new way. The giant prop spider my husband got for Christmas is helping with the last one.

It’s a race at times to get to that special notebook (I carry one in my purse) to write down any ideas blossoming before they melt away faster than a toddler’s ice cream cone. Once they vanish, it’s hard to make them reappear. Worse yet, sometimes the bang pop of ideas come while driving or butt nekkid in the shower. It makes you wish car companies had a built in voice to text recorder or we had a waterproof screen in the shower to scribble up.

And there goes all the hot water.

Right now I’m struggling with a few things. I have hardcore edits I need to complete within the next week, I have two pending edits coming my way, and I have not one but three new stories banging on the right side’s door. They all want in and I catch my muse’s fingertips lingering on the door while he flashes that mischievous smile.

As much as his tight ass pleases me to look at, I can’t let the horny bastard win. The further I get into writing as a part time career with full time implications, the more I have to cast off my wishy-washy ways. I’ve achieved a standalone contract. This could make or break me, in my opinion. When I see my other writing friends belting stories out with such mad cap efficiency, I envy them inside. It has to stay contained because in the end I am really, really happy for them.

This is a tough world to creep in for a writer. Most of the big publishing houses won’t deal with the author directly which means getting an agent and that means working with someone who may or may not share your vision. I’m on the fence about it all. In one hand, the power of the big houses has appeal. On the other hand, I’ve always liked to root for the underdog.

Every publishing house started out as the small pebble holding the larger ones up. As we go through our daily lives–some of us writers still having to deal with a regular nine to five job on top of writing–time management becomes a must and sometimes things like your favorite shows on television has to be ignored.

You have to decide whether you want the golden carrot of publication or not. And for pity’s sake, don’t resign yourself to self publication first. There are too many publishing houses out there that take unsolicited manuscripts to give in too easily.

Don’t balk at eBooks either. Whether you like them or not, that’s going to be the future in publishing. It’s a cost saver for most places.

One other thing before I wrap up—have a good editor! Most of the places I’ve dealt with have editors on staff but some haven’t. Proofread slowly and don’t get caught up with your rose-colored glasses on. Even having a friend look it over for mistakes if you can’t afford an editor (they’re not cheap!) could save you from a typo that has a review site gnawing on your hide.

Good luck out there and keep writing!

Boughs of Holly Teaser

It’s Christmas time so I’m going to feature another tidbit from Olivia’s pool of publications. Boughs of Holly is available at Still Moments Publishing in several ePublishing formats. No matter what you use as your eReader, they have it for you.

While at first I kicked and screamed at the changes needed to be made to this story, when I look back now on where it came from and where it ended up… I like the end result. Sorry ladies who read the original Mistletoe. Sure that one had a higher heat level but this one is much sweeter and perfect for the holidays!

Enjoy!

Her excitement reminded him of how he used to be at Christmas. Clutching his knee, she fluttered her eyelashes and clapped her hands. He opened the box and held the bracelet up on one finger. When she grabbed for it, he snatched it back.

“Let me see your wrist.” He grinned when she laid her arm across his leg in anticipation. With a quick clasp, he snapped the bracelet in place. Her eyes opened wide.

“Oh candy canes, it’s beautiful.” She closed her eyes and her body quivered. Blinking, she shot up, dancing from one foot to the other. “Take it off! Take it off!”

“No.” Chris crossed his arms.

“Icicles! You have to. Please.” She dashed to the door, slammed into it, and her bottom hit the floor when she fell. “Oh, sleigh bells.”

He got out of bed and helped her up. “Sorry, my little Christmas tease. You come to me at night and leave me more frustrated than any woman I’ve ever dated. No way am I letting you go, Holly.”