Swampy is responsible for casting characters and keeping them in line. This works great when he’s on duty. Way too often he drops off the latest dangerously sexy hero and the woman who deserve him, and then books it back to the loch.
I’m left to deal with an unreasonable cast. The hero isn’t talking to me or to his heroine. The heroine is getting testy and the story is cooking. 
In between mincing and sauteing the contemporary couple is still fighting in my head. Why did I think humans would be any more reasonable? 
Just send off the revision for the first installment in a new series, that I’m too superstitious to talk about before it’s contracted.
I am excited about a new set of heroes and new story world.
This is the sexiest and most dangerous set of heroes I’ve hung out with… So far! 
I’m busy revising and enriching the story that I’m too superstitious to talk about.
In a few weeks when I’ve improved everything the patient editor mentioned, I’ll be revising another tale — maybe. 
Just the word revisions used to make me tremble, but after repeated rounds I’m almost fond of the process, because it makes the story sooo much better.
A few months ago when I was working on A Promise of Amber, Treeland Pack Tales II, I looked like this, except for the curlers!
I love wolfies, but those Alpha males are darn hard to get along with. My thoughts turned to how much fun the demon guys had been. Now that I’m working on the second demon story, I realize my mistake. Demons are not any more reasonable than wolfies. What the heck was I thinking? They’re demons. Duh.
I actually miss the furry dudes even though they growl and snap and make me cry.
One of these days, I’m going try coaxing a story out of some regular humans. 
Just finishing up the submission package for the Demon Hunter Valentine’s Day story!
Characters and worlds live in my head every bit as real, or more so, than anyone I actually know in the 3-D life. From my point of view this isn’t all that weird, fictional people share their thoughts and feelings with utter transparency. But they don’t do this without coaxing, begging, and lots of author whining. Good thing the policy on the sign at the top of this post isn’t enforced around here.
Just in case you all were dyin’ to see where I write.
The actual writing side of the office.
Reference side of the office
And, the all important author dog, Katie, the diva Rottie.
Here I am slaving away with the story just starting to really hum and Swampy, aka my itinerant muse, wanders in blathering on about an entirely new story. This is not the first time he’s done this.
I’m a reasonable woman, I can tell he’s enthused, which is a very good thing. Swampy continues to rattle on and I dutifully made notes. When he finally pauses, I say,”Thank you I’ve got it all down in a new file. Now can we please get back to work?”
Swampy starts in again on the new hero, who does sound great, as if I hadn’t spoken.
Fine, I turn up the tunes, let him inspire the air. 
I’ve heard of writers who sit down and create finished copy. Not me. 
My first drafts tend to be breathless prose, omitting many crucial story bits and littered with he said, she said, and then, but… The over all effect of like listening to a six year-old describe their day.
The first pass is just the beginning. The third draft is my usual submission, and that ‘final’ version undergoes further revisions, edits, line edits, and proofing before any one other than my critique bud and the patient editors read a word of the adventure.
Last month my first reader was unavailable for a few days, I decided to read aloud to give the partial its final polish. A humbling experience and a good reminder that I need to slow down to make my prose as clean as possible before it leaves my hands.
Keep your fingers crossed doe me that the gracious editor enjoys the story.
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Copyright © Evanne Lorraine 2008-2011. All Rights Reserved. | Design by Karen @ Swank Web Style
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