Organizing, Cleaning, Plotting, and other Strange Habits

Summer is here!

For many parents that means kids will be running around the house crazy and asking every five seconds, "I'm bored. What can I do?"

Welcome to our house all year round.

We home school, and despite the "loud" and "busy", it's a joy. So, how do we deal with the chaos?

We get organized. Yesterday we sat down as a family and put together a list of weekly chores, and of course, our new chore wheel. Yay!

That's great you say, but what does that have to do with PLOTTING?

By default, I'm a pantster. The idea of plotting used to make me laugh. Why did I need that? My stories were completely character driven, and when characters hijacked the story, I ran along side cheering and panting. It's not until I completed my first 140k word middle grade novel that the need for plotting really sank in. As an author I needed to know which scenes were absolutely paramount--so I could chop that 140 to its eventual 90k. Whew! Each scene had to build character or the story arc/tension to make the final cut. It would have been so much easier if I'd started with an outline of important scenes before typing a single word.

See my outline of responsibilities on the fridge? Less chaos, less trauma. =)

Pardon. Cheese break. Mmm...Jarlsburg...

So, how do we plot?

Recently I stumbled across a video series I'll recommend to anyone who struggles with plotting.



Even after years of practice I don't sit down (on novel #6 now) and map out every fine detail of who, what, where, when and why. There has to be some wiggle room. It's just like our chore assignments--structure is supplied, but every hour of every day isn't set in stone.

So, how do you write? By the seat of your pants, or plotting? Somewhere in between? Do YOU think plotting is necessary?

Made of Awesome Blog Contest

They come in twos.

I swear this is the last blog contest I'm going to enter for a while, but this one by Shelley Watters is all about strengthening the first 250 words of a completed novel, and I have one story with 4 different beginnings that could really use a few external opinions.

Title: Dark Moon, 90K words

Genre: YA Historical Fantasy

Blurb:

Devonshire 1768. Noble-born Alexia has never been “attractive.” Far from. Avoiding Father’s push toward betrothal (before the unfortunate prospectives catch sight of her and think better) has been the only concern of her dull existence…until the night she meets him, the night she witnesses an unbelievable murder, the night her own impossible beauty stares back from the mirror, the night she realizes her entire life is a facade. Now she has a choice: step blindly into the unknown, toward him, or spend the rest of mortality wondering about red-eyed wraiths on moonless nights. 

I pushed myself off the ground. Dizziness rushed upon me in waves. The swelling in my ankle had returned, only now it throbbed in agony.

The hedges guarding the house from the road blotted Miles from view. He wouldn’t return even if I screamed for him, and I had to return to the house, to safety.

I turned.

A shrouded form stood between me and the lighted doorway. I fumbled backward, staggered, tripped on my skirts, and rolled.

Another creature appeared from around the side of the house, black robes limp in the absence of a breeze. More raven forms surfaced in the night following the first, murderous eyes, a great rolling tide of black.

I had only one course to follow.

Scrambling blindly away on hands and knees, I veered to my right, to the left, landing on my elbows, tearing my skirts.

Why hadn’t they overtaken me? They could move so much faster! Did they enjoy my flight? Perhaps they mocked me with the hope I might escape?

I lunged between gateposts that marked Father’s property and froze.

Multiple crimson pupils burrowed into me from the wooded shadows—hungry, piercing. How many? Forty maybe?

Miles stood only a couple paces ahead of me, whimpering in terror.

They circled us, eyes crushing down.

This is how it would end. I had seen it a hundred times in the prophetic nightmare, but never wanted to believe…

Thank you for reading! Suggestions?

Oh yes, before I forget...now for the random cheese fact of the week: Did you know there are over 1000 types of cheeses in the world? In fact, there are 400 types of French cheese alone.

Anyone who would like to read the final entries to this contest, go here.

Power of Tension Blogfest

First of all, I'm trying out a new look for my blog. It's been a long time coming, but today, today is the day. So what do you think? 

Next, I introduce you to the 

Thanks Cally Jackson and Rachel Morgan for hosting an awesome blogfest! 

From the completed MS: Neitherlands, Awakening

MG Fantasy

Blurb: When one considers all the poor, miserable, unimportant creatures of the Neitherlands, Kiri doesn’t even make the radar. She has no past. She has no future. She is a child alone… Until the summoning draws her into the presence of an extinct race: a wizard.

According to him, she is the last thing that stands between a mad warlock and her world’s annihilation. She alone knows where to find the missing High King—if she can just remember! Caught between the yearning to reunite with her family and the terror of surviving an ominous adversary’s attacks, she is the Neitherland’s only hope. 

The ENTRY:

Kiri dashed up the never-ending staircase breathing hard. She stumbled, slipped, and smacked her knee. It throbbed. In the quiet, hurried footsteps echoed from not far below.


She glanced behind, chest seizing in terror. Limping up, she dashed blindly around the corner and smashed into a solid wooden door.


The magic door... 

“Open!” she commanded, throwing her shoulder into it. Nothing happened.

“Open, please!” she begged, and hurled herself at it again. Instead of hitting wood, she tumbled through its opening and onto a moonlit outcropping. Night air filled her lungs. 


She got up and rushed to the brink. Distant ground disappeared through forming clouds. They billowed darkly, storm in tow. 


It was so high! Sickened and dizzy she stumbled backwards. Now was a terrible time to be afraid of heights.

Kiri turned back toward the open door, reaching for her dagger. 


Gone. No!

Lightning split the sky and a man stepped out onto the ledge.

Her heart seized. She couldn’t see his face and she didn’t want to, certain it held great satisfaction for the sinking of her heart.

“Ah, so good to see you again,” the stranger cooed. Moonlight hit his teeth--smiling like a jackal. “I hope he hasn’t filled your head with lies. Damien has a tendency to…exaggerate.” 


The seducing tone only pushed her further away. “Who are you?”

“I’m a friend.”

Rain began to spatter the mountain ridge.


“I don’t have any friends!” she screamed. “You killed them all!"

“Tut, tut.” He held out a hand, light finally catching those dark eyes. “Come with me.”

She stepped back, and felt the edge of the cliff against her heel.

“Kirina…” The stranger advanced.

"MY NAME IS ANN!" she shrieked and threw herself backwards, over the cliff.