Samhain Publishing Ltd. Weblog

It's in His Kiss

I didn’t forget it was my turn to blog!! For me, this is a memory miracle. An ditz defying feat for which I’ll give myself that cocoa flavored reward. I might start remembering things just to satisfy my craving for the lush smooth treat melting on my tongue. Ooh, chocolate…Wait, I was going to blog about something, hmm what was it again? Oh yeah, Now I remember!

How do fictional (and lots of real) women figure out who their perfect guy is?

Blogging to the Soothing Sounds of American Idol..Not

Since my internet is hinky, I’m banking my blog ahead of time. If you know me, the Great Procrastinator, you’ll realize how hard this is for me. I’m okay—sort of—I’d be better if not for my husband who thinks the first AI auditions where everyone is totally icky are the best of the lot, and insists on watching them.

I on the other hand, just want to know what in the world those people were thinking. I watch it for five minutes at a time and become irritated, because, it turns me from the nice Paula/Randy-ish type of person I really am into the dreaded evil heinous, Simon. I begin sneering and spitting out things like, “Get that person off the TV! Oh. My. God! Smack them in the head, they just ..suck!” I’ve been Simonized!

Don’t they know anyone who’d have kept them from embarrassing themselves on television like that? Surely when they asked their friends and/or relatives about their singing abilities, someone could have piped up and said, “Dude! You suck really bad! Do you hear that howling? The dogs are having fits!” Yeah, that’s a Simon says, but better here than on T.V.

I’ll admit if they had me for a relative they would have heard it. Nicely, of course. Well, okay, after the consumption of mass quantities of chocolate I’d have been nice. I’d have nicely told them to stick to the choir (the very back) instead of going so low as to solo. If they didn’t believe me, I’d record their efforts and play it back, loudly, to illustrate my point. That’s a little more Paula, maybe even Randy. Hmm, better.

As for those costumes. In a galaxy far, far away, a mad scientist came up with a magical invention called a mirror to prevent the occurrence of things like the Princess Leia Slave Girl folly. I shall not go into any more detail, except to say, just no. Also that costume that guy wore that looked like a cross between I Drean of Jeannie and Sinbad was a mondo-bad dream. Gross! No!

See? I’ve been Simonized again, just thinking about it!

I come from a large family who would (have, do, shall, and will always) take great pleasure in telling each other that they essentially suck at something. I never really appreciated that little trait until now. Thanks American Idol!

Back to being Jenna Leigh again! Yay!

The Princess of Procrastination

It’s 4 a.m. do you know where your author is? Well, this one’s blogging, but through the magic of the delay button, it’s not gonna show up until three p.m. At least, I’m prayin’ this thing works with the fervor of an inmate on death row waiting for that important phone call from the governor.

The quote by screenwriter, Paul Rudnick is essentially me. I have to be alone to do my magic, shabby as it is.

“As a writer, I need an enormous amount of time alone. Writing is 90 percent procrastination: reading magazines, eating cereal out of the box, watching infomercials. It’s a matter of doing everything you can to avoid writing, until it is about four in the morning and you reach the point where you have to write. Having anybody watching that or attempting to share it with me would be grisly.” ~Paul Rudnick

The television’s too loud, and my husband yells out the coming attractions to the room at large. The cat comes in and out of my room incessantly and thinks a closed door is a crime against nature. And by all that is holy, whoever bought the dog that squeaky toy is going to the be hanged from the highest tree at dawn. Wait, that was me. Never mind.

My daughter is the least of my troubles because at seventeen, she’d rather be as far from the house as possible. However, this brings on a whole new set of distractions.

Where is she? Why isn’t she home? Is she out running the roads or worse, lying dead in a ditch? Hold on now, it’s not me doing all that worrying. Nay, nay! It’s my hubby, but instead of calling her, he goes into his Daddy of Dread routine, turns into the Prince of Paranoia, the… okay, I’m out of alliterative phrases, but it’s irritating in the extreme, so much so that he’s the one in real danger of turning up dead in a ditch!

So, how to block all these little distractions out and stop the procrastination to write the stories that buzz angrily in the back of the brain? Short of murder, we can do like Mr. Rudnick says, wait until the house is quiet and get started making that magic.

Many authors, me included are a lot like vampires. We crave darkness, only truly coming to life late at night. Of course, we don’t drink blood, our species is more symbiotic than a parasitic. The relationship we forge with our characters can be violent, bloody, and chaotic. Sort of like one of my family reunions after they’ve tapped the keg.

However, a vampire author shares his or her very essence with their characters, shoving it out through their fingertips onto the page. Many authors channel their emotions are channel through their characters. A lot of these are very dark indeed and it’s hard to bring them out in the light of day in front of family, not to mention the dog. The cat would just sneer. Some books beg to be written in the middle of the night when all is quiet.

Solitude is an author’s best friend because silence allows the thoughts to settle in and stick. Writing is a hard business, at least for me. I’ll let easier things like the television, IM’s, and email distract me until the night’s been frittered away. My characters are growing impatient, the sound of them stomping in my head is growing louder as I type, soon it’ll be too loud for even me the Queen of Denial to ignore. That’s why I’m up at four in the morning writing. That and Brimstone Babe is really scary. I wonder if she’s a vamp? Naah. She’s too cute.

When Your Plot Gets Hijacked

I’m a pantsy-plotter, which means while I plot I fly by the seat of my pants to get to the end. Why? Because I have to steal time to write, that’s why. So, while I’m at work or cooking etc, part of me is submersed in Jenn’s World where my characters live and breathe. It’s hard to stay on course when that happens. I don’t keep my outline in front of me all the time while I’m thinking about my stories, therefore, surprises happen. I myself was a surprise for my parents so that may have something to do with it. Mama says I was a happy accident. You say tom-ah-to and I say, well, actually, I say ‘mater. But really, it’s all about where you’re coming from. ‘wink’

Like a Writer for Chocolate: A Valentine's Day Blog

Today is Valentine’s Day, the day for lovers to give each other gifts to celebrate their love. So when I knew I was blogging on this date, I thought I’d take the easy way out and look up some great romantic couples in history like Antony and Cleopatra, Napoleon and Josephine, and um, Sonny and Cher. Then, I thought about those for a minute, and besides showing my crappy research skills, it also points out another glaring fact. Those couples all bit the dust in the end, in some cases permanently. Even Liz and Richard, the actors who played Tony and Cleo, couldn’t make it work, so I’ve decided to do something a little different for Valentine’s Day this year.