Run, Run Away

My next novella.  Well, it's sort of my first novella, since When The Storm Passes is novel-length.

Here's a little bit:


“Is he going to believe any of that?” my sister asked, raising her little blonde eyebrow. It was unsettling, that eyebrow, because I didn’t know any other girls who could do it except my mother.  Growing up in the same house, Vi must have picked it up. She’d been doing it since she was a toddler. 
“No,” I answered. “Of course he won’t. If you come with me, we’ll both be apostate sinners. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”  
But even as I spoke, I gently laid the note on Father’s work bench, where he’d be sure to find it if he came for his horses before dawn.  If he failed to notice our absence, one of the boys would find the note by morning. Horses don’t feed themselves.
Violet nodded solemnly, her twelve-year-old eyes grave. “I don’t think we have any other choice,” she said. “And our ride will be here in about fifteen minutes.”
“We better run, then. Come on.”  We hitched our flour sack bags over our shoulders, peeked around the barn door, and lit through the early autumn fields like the devil was after us.  Which he was.

Heat Wave

It's ridiculously warm. And humid. Did I mention humid? Yeah, it's that.

For the last week it's been above 75 - in MARCH - at my little condo on the lake, with a side of water in the air. Really, weather? Either be May or don't. Rain, or get the water out of my air. I have no preference, weather, do what you want, as long as you make a decision.

Also, it's the first day back from spring break and I am sleepy. I should not be sleepy, but I wrote on the new book over the weekend, and then decided I didn't like it, and then decided to read someone else's books all at once, and then decided they weren't that good, and then had strange dreams about polygamists, baby-stealers and at least three characters from the three projects I'm writing now.

It's been that kind of weekend.  And now it's Monday. Hey, Monday. As a band, you suck. As a concept, you're kind of sleepy and humid and not quite sunny.

Focal Intensity

Major writing is happening. If you see some hot mess huddled in a corner in front of a laptop, sucking down coffee and typing furiously in fits, then staring into space, oblivious to everything, then typing again? Don't mind me.

As my writing normally happens in intense hours-long fits of activity followed by gazing at nothing, blogging is normally minimal unless I happen to get a clear moment. This is one of those moments. The current book is as-yet untitled, but might make for interesting reading.  Hint: it's not for kids, kids.

See you on the flip side of my brain. :)

Change of Plans

The book I thought I was writing? Yeah, I'm not writing that book. Not right now, anyway.

While I really liked the first couple of chapters, something else grabbed me, and I took a hard left into Let's Write Something Else Entirely territory.  This is not unusual for me. On the last book, I had started writing one thing and ended up writing When The Storm Passes instead.

This book will be darker. There's not going to be a happy ending. Or a tornado - at least not the physical kind. Instead, I think we'll see some twisted motivations from complex characters. It may take a little longer to write than the last one, but I think it'll be good. We'll see.

Katie

Katie is awesome.  She chose When The Storm Passes as her semester book project for school.  As part of the project, Katie has to read and report on the book, but she also has to make contact with the author. Which, given that she lives several states away and is not a relative, was pretty great.

Katie and I have never met, although her mom Becca is one of my biggest online supporters. (Becca's pretty much amazing, btw, and I consider her a personal friend.) But the thing that sent me from flattered and pleased to complete Katie fandom?  She said I was pretty.  Yep. Flattery from a kid is enough for me to insist that Katie's teacher give her an A+ on this project.  But I kinda think she'd get that A anyway, because Katie is very smart. She also has good taste in books.  Thanks, Katie!

Oh look, I have a website.

Go here. Click on things. Snortgiggle.

Character Development

I'm working on my second novel, if working is the same thing as thinking and jotting things down sometimes. The plan is to start serious writing by the weekend.

My friend Becca gave me an idea for a character tweak which I love. It involves heart-shaped lollipops. So if heart-shaped lollipops show up in the next book, that's all Becca. I love her.

In the meantime, it's occurred to me that I need a website. And also a literary agent. I dunno if lit agents like to represent self-published authors. And I am pretty sure I'm not patient enough to delay the upcoming book long enough to wait the three months on possible representation.  Patience is a virtue of which I have none.

Uh, yeah. That's about it. I'm going for coffee now.

Oh Holy Cats.

So if I'm going to keep writing books, or market the first novel properly, I need a website.

This should not be difficult. As impqueen, I spent years blogging on crime sites using Wordpress, or whatever the site owner was using. At The Demon, I just showed up and wrote stuff - Morbid did all the back end work.  (Don't snicker, it's unladylike. Or ungentlemanly, or something. You know you laughed.) But this "build your own site" stuff blows.

I've been eyeballing hosting and site building templates, because I'm kind of a wysiwyg girl since my car accident last July. The brain, it does not like to store information for easy retrieval sometimes. I really liked Wix, but as it happens, Wix is Flash-based and thus unusable on iPads and iPhones and iThings. Harrumph. Flounce, even.

What's frustrating about all this website-non-development is that it takes time away from my writing. I'd pay someone to build me a site with a nicely integrated blog, but sadly, your favorite author has no marketing budget. Or even a bath bomb budget. Or pretty much any budget at all, really. So that's out.

Deep breaths. Sigh. Headdesk. I think this calls for a picture of Max.

Oh look, it's Max!

My book.

Go get it. 

I'm Julie. I Write Stuff.

So, I write stuff. Like this book: When The Storm Passes.

When The Storm Passes follows thirteen-year-old Avalie Milner from May 22, 2011 - the day the EF-5 tornado hit Joplin, Missouri - to February 2012. A plainspoken girl without much pretense, Avalie is nobody famous, or even all that special. She's just a kid in the face of the storm.

After being rescued from the rubble of her house, Avalie has to find a way to survive on her own while looking for her mother. Accompanied only by her broken-down pug dog, Max, she tiptoes through the literal and emotional debris of the storm to restore her home and family, and to grow up in a world where everything has changed.

I like Avalie. I mean, I wrote her, so of course I like her, but that's not really fair. Avalie (short A, long E, not Everly, not Ava Lee) is kind of her own person.  Maybe I'm a method writer, or maybe Avalie just told me her story and let me write it down.  I like to think that the latter happened, as the novel wrote itself in the space of six days in early February.  By Valentine's Day, it was published. Avalie and I hope it doesn't suck.

As a starving writer, I gotta eat and feed the pug, so I do want the book to sell - but a portion of any profits will go to support organizations working hard to help Joplin recover from one of the most horrific natural disasters Missouri has ever seen.  Bright Futures, Rebuild Joplin and the Joplin Humane Society are worthy charities that are helping kids, families, and animals in Joplin. I want them to reap some benefit from Avalie's story.  So buy mah book, y'all.  And then go to those websites and donate some more, if you can.