Motivation

For all you writers out there, what is your motivation for writing a book? Is it fame? fortune? the need to tell your story? the need to tell someone else's story? I am curious what makes you all tick.

For me, it is the telling of a story that may have happened inside a story we all know. Everyone knows that Genghis Khan took over most of Eurasia and everyone knows he had a wife, a daughter, and four sons. Everyone knows that Jamuka was his best friend until something happened that made him leave Genghis and begin to conquer on his own in direct competition of his friend. My brain starts ticking when I hear stories like that. I want to know why they had a falling out of that magnitude. Don't you?

Over the span of my life, when I have heard stories other people tell, I have always filled in the gaps with tales of knights, dragons, love, and betrayal. I used to sit in the mall and write people a new story in my head. I have gone through many learning processes in my life to learn other skills because writing was never deemed useful; like reading. My father used to say, "Put down that book and do something with yourself. You are wasting your time on nonsense." Reading and writing were considered bad form and he had the idea that reading the encyclopedia was the only way to learn.

B.S.

Things I have learned from books:

1. How to be a better person
2. How to cook things I could never have done without the instruction
3. Historical facts
4. Human interaction
5. How other people tick
6. How to be comfortable in my own skin
7. Other people have it worse sometimes
8. How to be patient and understanding
9. How to forgive and overlook
10. How to use my imagination to feel, be, and see what the characters feel, are, and see

and so much more!

I would like to send a huge shout out to the following authors as a thank you for taking the time to sit down and tell me a story:

J.K. Rowling (violence is not always necessary)
Stephanie Meyer (true love is all encompassing and can survive anything)
C.S. Lewis (be good down inside)
J.R.R. Tolkien (your friends that are true will help you through anything)
Piers Anthony (being different is okay)
Anne Rice (be comfortable with yourself)
Alice Borchardt (history can be interesting)
Christoper Paolini (always believe the impossible)
Robin Cook (hospitals are crooked)
Fern Michaels (women are strong)
Suzanne Collins (fight like every day is your last because it could very well be)
Stephen King (reality in writing can make you feel)
The Brothers Grimm (fairytales give hope and a moral lesson)
Shakespeare (it is not the language but how you use it)
Every author that has ever spent their time writing a story (perseverance pays off)

Well, that's it for today folks, off to write some more!! I hope this post got you thinking!

Until next time, WRITE ON!!

Jo

Book Festivals are Amazing

Well, Savannah was beautiful but the best part about it was the person I was with. I don't think I would have enjoyed my time in that city nearly as much without him by my side. It is rare to find someone who enjoys the same things you do but, once in your life, you will meet someone with whom you can enjoy all of the things that you both love and even be introduced to some new things you never knew you loved via the association. IF you ever do, you should hold on with both hands like your life depends on it. If you find one and lose them and then find another, you should count yourself VERY lucky.

On to the events: We went to an amazing restaurant, took a walking tour of Savannah architecture (amazing), went to St. John's church (he is catholic so this is a HUGE deal for him), listened to Lulu Powers speak about her book From Food to Flowers (I am one of those people that loves cookbooks), and listened to some wonderful live music while holding hands and canoodling. I have never enjoyed myself more.

While I didn't get to meet Mr. Stephen King (the event was sold out), Ms. Lulu was interesting and I got a look into the success story of a chef who published a book. She was very forward about not being a writer and I began to wonder how many passions you could put into a book. I have discovered there are many:

1. Poetry
2. Photography
3. Cooking
4. Storytelling
5. Business
6. Art
7. Travel
8. Nonsense
9. Love
10. Despair
11. Poverty
12. Historical Events
13. Self

and so many more! Too many to list! I realized that, no matter what your passion is, there is a book in you somewhere. You just have to find your genre and make it happen.

I have had so many stories in me my whole life, I have always written. While art, photography, and cooking ARE passions, writing fiction is what I was born to do. I think good writers can be trained but I think GREAT writers are BORN and just have to take the time to master their craft.

I am off to continue the story that my heart wants to tell. I cannot help but model Temujin after my boyfriend and the love he has for Borte is the love I hope he has for me; it IS the love I have for him and it drives much of my tale.

I hope you are all blessed as I have been but I don't find it likely. What I have found is rare, beautiful, and made of the stuff you usually only read about...

Until next time, WRITE ON!!!

Jo

Weekend!!

I shipped my chapters off to my focus group this morning and am putting the first 6 chapters of edits into my manuscript before I reprint so I can share my story with someone near and dear to my heart this weekend. It makes me a bit nervous because, while I can read it and let my focus group read it and not take it personally, this is a lot more personal.

Questions to the writers out there: When you share your draft with a random person, do you take their feedback personally or do you just accept it for what it is? Is it different when you share it with someone you love?

Just stuff in my head right now.

I gotta go pack!! SO excited right now! I can think of NO better way to spend my weekend than spending time with my Babydoll in a city that is celebrating books.

Another quick question: Does ink printed on paper mean anything to anyone any more? Or are we so consumed by technology that everything now must be digital or no one will bother with it?

Thought: When that EMP destroys all of the electronics that we depend on so much, at least I'll still have my paper books...

Until next time, WRITE ON!!

Jo

Loss

We all know how it feels to lose something we truly love. Here it is in short story form:

Ginger met the man of her dreams and fell head-over-heels in love with him. She had been in love before, but it was never quite like this and, over time, that love didn't fade but grew stronger until her very life force was connected to it. Every waking moment, she felt like she could fly because of this wonderful man who had somehow managed to steal every ounce of her heart; which she thought she had protected so well.

Through her life, Ginger had never been privy to caring on the level that she believed this man cared for her and it excited her, broke down her walls like they were made of butter, and made her feel she was worth something. She decided that she would move mountains for this man if he asked her to because her goal was to make him as happy as he had made her. Every day, she worked toward that goal. Some days were easier than others because of the dynamics of the relationship but she never gave up and pledged that she would love him through whatever life threw their way.

Then, one day, he said that he could no longer struggle with her and that she should move on and find someone else. Her heart stopped beating in that moment and tears filled her eyes as pain shot through her body from her chest outward. She denied it at first, thinking that he couldn't possibly mean what he was saying; she thought the strength of her love would be enough to carry them through a hurricane. Yes, she had done some things she wasn't proud of but thought that because she had never betrayed him, it wouldn't matter after a time. She was wrong. They did matter.

When the realization that he was gone overtook her, the pain in her entire body was one that was so intense, so completely overwhelming, that she screamed. It was the only way she knew to keep from falling down and dying in that moment. She began to shiver, though it was not cold in the room. Tremors wracked her body and she lay down on the floor, wept, and allowed herself to shake with them uncontrollably. When she had cried all that she could, she knew not what to do so she just laid on the floor and stared into space. She felt like she had no heart, no soul, and no way to think clearly; she may not ever again. Those things had been ripped from her body and shredded.

She began to question herself and wonder if she didn't do enough for him, if she wasn't good enough for him, and if he ever really cared in the first place. Surely he did, she wasn't that stupid... or was she? Why did she allow this man so close to her heart? Why did she give him her total trust and not question his motives? After all, he hadn't given her his. But she did and she was glad she did because she knew that if she hadn't, she wouldn't really have been trying; but she did try. She put every ounce of herself into him and hoped it would be enough. As she lay shivering on the floor and crying until her eyes swelled shut and she could not rise, she knew that she wasn't the one he wanted and the realization made her want to die.

Hours later, when Ginger finally managed to crawl to her bed and slide under the covers that smelled just like him, she passed out from the grief of her loss. Her body simply couldn't take it and her brain could not process that she would never again feel the warmth of his hand, the touch of his lips, or the safety of his arms. She had no dreams that she could remember but woke up with a hole where her heart used to be and no feeling in any part of her body. She remembered when she bounced out of bed on wings of love - was that just yesterday? - and lay for a time crying again for her loss. She knew that she had disappointed him and wished she was a better person, a better lover, and a better friend when he needed it.

She remembered looking into his eyes and thinking she could see his soul, feeling his arms around her when she was upset or scared, and not being able to picture her life without him in it. Her future was suddenly blank and she felt the loss that much more intensely. She knew she would never leave the house again because if she ever saw him on the street or with someone else, she would die a thousand deaths and feel this pain all over again. She knew that seeing him happy with someone else, when she had tried so hard and failed, would make her feel like dirt. She knew that she would not be able to handle it and knew that she would do whatever she had to in order to circumvent that encounter. If that meant never seeing the light of day again, she knew she would endure it because the alternative was too horrifying to think about.

Her heart was broken and she knew she would never love like that again, just as she had never loved like that before. He was her once-in-a-lifetime and, in her heart, was irreplaceable. She knew she had loved ones that cared for her and would always be there but she was irrevocably changed by the event and would never be the same without him. Cold and dead and hating life, she had no choice but to rise and tend to her appointments; her heart heavy, her eyes wet, and her hands shaking.

They say time heals all wounds and she prays that it's true because she knows she cannot live long with this pain; this excruciating, all encompassing pain. She decides that she will never love again because as long as her heart is closed forevermore, no one can rip it out and re-open the hole that will be in her chest for the rest of her life.

~ The End

Above is what I deem to be true love and true loss. Have you ever felt that way?

I managed almost six thousand words yesterday and they flowed well. Chapter 17 is underway.

I hope you all connected in some way with the story above because, if you did, you have known what it is like to really love someone. Even through the pain of your loss, you love them. You will always have a giant place in your heart that only they touched and, even though it hurts like hell and is forever empty when they leave, you at least knew what it was like to see the sunrise in someone's face and feel the warmth when you looked into their eyes.

Until next time, write on!

Jo

Chapter 16 excerpt!

Temujin has spoken to God again in chapter 16 but I am not posting that excerpt. I know, awwwwwww. Haha! Instead, read about his brother, Quasar, and his brother's wife...

    After my things were packed onto Graêl, I kissed my wife, hugged my children, and mounted. Jelme and Bo’orchu were mounting as well but Quasar was nowhere to be seen. We waited a few minutes before dismounting and heading for his yurt. When we approached, we heard Quasar arguing with his wife.

    “You are a piece of dung! Why must you leave me in this condition to go follow after your little brother on some conquest that you have no stake in?”

    “Wife, the Tatars murdered our father and I owe them a payback just as much as Temujin does. We are brothers. Besides, this could very well make our fortunes. I will return before long, do not worry your head.”

    We heard weeping and then something breaking before the shrill voice of Quasar’s wife again filled the air. “Then go! If you have not returned by the time this baby comes, I will kill you in your sleep!”

    Quasar stumbled through the door and was shocked to see all of us standing there. He blushed and said, “Yes. Baby. We must go, NOW.”

    We all took a moment to clap him on the back and issue congratulations. We took one moment too long and Quasar’s wife came through the door behind him, brandishing a weapon.

    She began to scream, “Go! Get out of here! All of you! I will have your heads if you do not leave my sight right NOW!”

    We ran for the horses and leapt onto their backs, spurring them on with a quick kick of our heels. We thundered toward the road for many minutes before we dared to slow down; the fear of Quasar’s wife still upon us.

    Jelme spoke first, “She is scary, Quasar! What was that she was holding? It looked like a club of some sort!”

    “It was one of the legs of our table. She snapped it off and started smashing things in the house. She told me she was having a baby just last night and begged me not to leave. I told her, ‘Temujin is my brother and Yesugei was my father, too.’ She did not want to hear that and wept all night; calling me every name she could think of – it was many.”
  

This is where Temujin, Quasar, Jelme, and Bo'orchu are on their way back to the Kerait tribe to set off on a revenge mission. It should be interesting because Temujin has been wanting this for a long LONG time.


We shall see! I hope everyone is enjoying the snippits so far. It is 9am and time to get to work!

Until next time, WRITE ON!!

Jo

1500? The Nightmare of the Little Dog

I only managed 1500 words yesterday. Why, you ask? Well, I'll tell you...

I am sitting at my computer, typing away, when all of a sudden my maltchi, Tucker, begins chasing his tail. Round and round he went until suddenly, he stopped and looked up at me with his furry little face then opened his mouth and roared like a lion. I have to say, I was taken a bit aback and was a bit frightened out of my wits. Okay, I was terrified and confused! When his roar came to an end, he charged me, snarling and gnashing his teeth like he was going to have me for a snack.

I jumped off of my chair so quickly it turned over and I ran for the bathroom so I could get behind a locked door. He is just a tiny dog and there's no way he can come through a door, right? Wrong. I got into the bathroom and shut and locked the door just before he was able to grab my ankle with his sharp little teeth. While sitting in the bathroom, my mind went haywire as I imagined all kinds of scenarios to explain the reason for my dog's behavior. I thought, maybe he was bitten by a werewolf, perhaps he ate some bad food, and I even wondered if maybe he had cat-scratch fever - because of the lion roar.

He started hurling his tiny body against the door at an attempt to break through to me. After just four hits, the door began to splinter and I began to shake. Tremors started at my feet and, after just a few moments, my entire body was vibrating so hard I almost threw up. I knew I was going to die. That knowledge sickened me and made me cry for the loss that so many people would suffer. What would my kids think? Who would care for them when I was gone? How would my parents handle it? All of these questions had no answers but caused me to straighten my back, force down my gorge, and control my tremors so I could think straight. I began to look for a way out.

After searching the bathroom for a minute, I noticed that there was an air duct in the ceiling. I quickly stepped to the top of the toilet and took out the loose screws. I hauled myself up into the shaft at the same moment that the bathroom door shattered and my little Tucker came bursting through with a wild look in his beady eyes. I narrowly escaped being eaten.

This is my little Tucker:

He looks terrifying, doesn't he? Perhaps he was just angry that I made him pose for photos.

Yes, the above is a bit of hyperbole. Okay, a LOT of hyperbole!! But it was entertaining, no? :)

Really and truly, the reason I only wrote 1500 words yesterday is because I was working on Valentines for my loved ones. Personally, I like the nightmare of the little dog a bit more.

I hope you were entertained today. I am off to write some more BOOK!! It is 9am, after all, and I am good and warmed up now.

Until next time, WRITE ON!!

Jo

Itchy Fingers

My fingers are itching with ideas I had over the weekend and I can't wait to begin writing again today. This has been one of the most difficult undertakings I have ever attempted - second only to graduating college. I have re-written the beginning of my book three times before I decided I was ready to continue with chapter 1. Since the prologue, the book took on a personality of its own and has literally flown out of my fingers. I hope to write at least three chapters this week, possibly four. My goal is to get it ON paper then tweak it and roll it around in my head for a while.

I am going to the Savannah, Georgia, book fair this weekend and I hope to be introduced to some new writers and some inspiration. Savannah is so beautiful and for them to have a whole weekend dedicated to books, well, they won me over even more. I am an avid reader as well as being a writer. I have a huge library of books and am always on the lookout for another great read.

I hope you are all excited that Temujin is about to have the sweet taste of revenge on his tongue yet again! My focus group loves it when he acts in the name of justice and they say they punch the air on occasion when things go right for this young warrior. That tells me he is, not only likeable, but that they are rooting for him to win. That's my kind of character!

I had an idea for a young reader's series yesterday and logged it in my idea book. I will make plans for the writing of the first one once this one hits the e-readers. I am lucky that I can write. I am thankful for the gift every day. For all of you writers, do you keep an idea book? I am curious to know just what others do.

Time to get to work!

Until next time, WRITE ON!!

Jo