After a meeting with my fabulous editors at Author Crash Course on July 12th, I’ve been hard at work on draft three. When I started writing this book last November, I was in such a hurry to get the story out of my head. I couldn’t wait to start querying. Geez, I’m so glad I pumped the brakes. I was proud of the first draft I submitted to my editors, ecstatic about the second, and now, I’m completely confident the third time will be the charm. As my editors say, writers can always dig deeper.
For this revision, I’m taking my time with each chapter, jotting down notes where I can amp up the story and flesh out the characters even more. I want to make sure that for every single chapter (there are 60), my readers can see, taste, smell, feel and hear the world of StellaVerum.
If you’ve been following my posts, you’ll know that I was on a mission to find Ezrah, my protagonist, this month. I found her and then some. I trashed the first chapter and gave her a makeover, of which my editors loved. I know exactly where I’m going with Ezrah and can’t wait for y’all to meet her. I also pitched a pretty fricking cool plot twist of which they gave me the green light. I’m stoked!
For this week’s post, I thought I’d share my writing space with you. It isn’t much but it sure beats writing on an upside-down cardboard box in a closet like I did with my second novel in Afghanistan. After each chapter I complete, I grab the weights and do some quick exercises and squats, usually jamming out to Gaelic Storm. Sometimes after a particularly badass scene, I’ll grab a cup of coffee and dance throughout the house, frolicking about with Zowie like I’m Michael Flatley in Lord of the Dance.
That’s all for today, folks. But before I leave, take notice of where my desk sits. Why is it against the wall, you ask?
“It starts with this: put your desk in the corner, and every time you sit down there to write, remind yourself why it isn’t in the middle of the room. Life isn’t a support system for art. It’s the other way around.” ― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft