Creative Beginnings by Jena Galifany

What does it take to get an author started writing? Some times, it only takes a man with a sign. While driving home one day, I noticed a nice looking young man standing on the side of the road holding a cardboard sign that stated simply, "Day Labor". It got me thinking.

It takes me about ten minutes to drive from where I saw the man to my home and in that ten minutes, I'd mapped out the basic story. What would the man do? What was he willing to do? What if he looked like someone's husband? What if he looked enough like someone's husband that he could sire a child that the husband was unable to father? Yeah, I know. I'm warped that way. Work with me here. =) Day Labor began just like this.

I allowed the idea to roll around in my mind for about two years. Last year when I lost my day job on October 28th, I decided it was my chance to join in the fun of NaNoWriMo for the first time. Day Labor became my project for the month of November. From November 1st to November 29th, I worked each night on my project and finished up with a novel 50,448 words long.

I still need to polish it and get it out to a publisher, but at least I know I have one more novel finished. It's a good feeling.

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Unedited Excerpt of Day Labor by M.J. Conrad (Jena Galifany)

Chapter 1 – 2005

Mark Langston stood in the doorway to the Chief of Detectives, Grant Langston's office. Grant took his time in responding to Mark's knock. Obviously annoyed, he tossed down his pen and leaned back in his large leather chair as Mark entered and closed the door.

"What do you want?" As usual, Grant showed no pleasure at seeing Mark.

Mark pulled an envelope from his pocket. He held it up, and crossed the plush carpet in the large office. As he reached the mahogany monster of a desk, he tossed it onto the surface, and watched it slid to a stop at the edge of the blotter. "I want an explanation."

Grant didn't look at the envelope. His gaze locked instead on Mark, his jaw clenched and released before he spoke. "Now that you're married, I wanted you to know that you will receive nothing from my estate in case of my death. You have no part in my will. Just so you can let that new wife of yours know it."

"Why would Beth care? She has her own money. She doesn't care about yours." Mark burned with anger at the insinuation. Beth had more money than Grant Langston ever dreamed of having.

"So my name and my status didn't get you a bride? Congratulations." Grant commented in bored monotone.

Mark slammed his hand on the desk as he leaned toward his father. "I've done everything I could my entire life to please you. I've worked my ass off through school and college to be the son you'd be proud of. I've solved several cases that were beyond anything even you've ever handled. Now, after one of my greatest successes, I get this letter. What kind of a father are you that you’d expend so much energy hating your son?"

Grant carefully weighed his words before he let them spill from his lips. "The kind of father who only has a daughter." He smirked, and rocked back in his chair, his trained eyes watching Mark's face for a reaction.

Mark felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. "What are you saying?" He knew damned well what was said but couldn't wrap his mind around the words, or believe them. Not after thirty-five years. Why wouldn't Grant, or at least his mother, have told him before?

"You’re the fancy detective. Figure it out." Grant leaned his forearms on his desk, and continued before Mark could respond. "Do you recall a local incident some thirty-six years ago. A criminal was shot during a home invasion. You probably read the case file when you studied local issues."

"The man was into pornography and drugs." Mark thought back to the case. "Rape, too, I believe."

Grant nodded and clapped his hands with sarcasm. "He gets the gold star."

"What? Rape?"

Grant folded his hands on the desk. "The man had taken a gun from the home office and attempted to shoot the homeowner when he walked in on him. It was a cut and dried case of self-defense."

"What's that got to do with rape?" Mark was confused. He saw by the look on Grant's face that the older man took pleasure in traveling the long road to where he was going.

"What the report didn't say – because it was covered up – was that the bastard raped the man's wife. That woman was your mother and that bastard that I took great pleasure in shooting was your father. I don't think he left you anything in his will either."

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I hope to get the chance to polish up "Day Labor" before much longer and get it out to the public. What does it take to get you started? What stirs your creative juices? Feeling that you need a new idea? Take a drive around town!

Cheers!

Jena'

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Creative Beginnings by Alison Henderson

I’m stoked! May is Creative Beginnings month, so it’s only appropriate that I’d be embarking on a new creative venture. On May 1^st, I received a contract for a new historical novella, The Treasure of Como Bluff. This story is a first for me in two ways. Number one: It’s the first piece of “new” writing I’ve sold. My first two books were originally written many years ago, so it’s reassuring to know I haven’t completely lost the touch. Number two: It was my first venture into writing a novella length story. Because several writers have expressed an interest in trying out this format, I thought I’d share my observations and experience.

When you’re used to writing 90K word novels, telling a complete story in 24K words is a challenge. At first, the rhythm didn’t come naturally to me. I had to stop and think about the structure far more often than I usually do. One technique I used to help with pacing was to shorten my usual 20 page chapters to 10 pages. For me, that helped moved the story along.

My long novels generally take place across several months, but for the novella, I compressed the time period to a couple of weeks so I wouldn’t have to scrimp on the number or quality of scenes. The abbreviated time frame also affected the progression of the romance. This is the first story I’ve written without a consummated love scene because I wanted the relationship to develop in a believable way within the context of the novella format.

Also, I sacrificed description, exposition and internal narrative in favor of dialogue. My books are always dialogue-heavy, but after the first chapter (when the hero is unconscious), this story is at least 75% dialogue. In some ways, it was more like writing a screenplay than a novel, but it forced me to let the characters drive the story. I’m happy to say they pulled out a few surprises and did a terrific job!

Here’s the blurb for The Treasure of Como Bluff:

In a race against rival bone hunters, the last complication paleontologist Caroline Hubbard needs is a dead man with a love letter in his pocket cluttering up her dig site. Her troubles multiply when she discovers the “deceased” stranger is still very much alive. He might have the chiseled features and impressive physique of a classical statue, but she’s not about to let him hamper her quest to unearth a new species of dinosaur and make her mark on the scientific world.

Nicholas Bancroft has come to Wyoming in search of silver, but after a blow to the head, he finds himself at the mercy of a prickly, determined female scientist. Despite his insistence that he’s just passing through, Caroline persuades him to help her stage an elaborate charade to save her job—a charade which casts Nick in the role of her husband.

Once the masquerade plays out, they face a big decision. Will they be able to look beyond their separate goals and see the true treasure right in front of them?

Alison Henderson

www.alisonhenderson.com

SCRAMBLINGS FOR RAMBLINGS

You know I should pay more attention. I was given the topics for this month, but for the life of me I can’t find the emails that went out about the subjects. I seem to remember that one month one of the subjects we blogged about was organizing. (See! I should have paid more attention then I wouldn’t be wondering about what I should be writing about this week.)

The problem is that life gets into the way. I want to get organized. I would like nothing more than to have everything contained at least in a semblance of control chaos. But if I remember correctly, I believe a creative beginning was one of the topics.

I’m going to go with that one. Why? Mainly because most creative people I know aren’t organized. Creative people tend to be free thinkers which can be a problem. When I create a story, it has to come to me. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever sat before a blank page and stared at it wondering what to write. When I sit down at my computer, I already have in mind what I’m going to write. Some people write from notes or an outline. I have my ideas in my head. I think on my way to work, doing housework, on walks, and sometimes if I’m being totally honest, while someone is talking to me. Maybe it’s the reason why I never know what my husband tells me.

One of his pet peeves about me is my habit of talking to him mid-conversation. Of course, I began the conversation in my head. Randomly, I begin talking to him like he can read my mind. Somehow I reason he can just know what I’m thinking in the same manner I expect him to know where I’m at when I’m lost. Oh, that’s never happened to you? 

I’m so bad with directions that if I was on the Amazing Race I probably would be booted at the first airport- before we even get the chance to take off. I can be some place fifteen times and still not know how to get there. I don’t know how my husband does it but somehow when I call him he’s able to tell me how to maneuver back on track-except once when I was going to work (I work overnights at a hospital). Now don’t tell me to get a GPS. Have one. Sometimes those things just don’t work especially if you are getting around in a city like Boston. The way Boston streets are aligned they can confuse the best GPS money has to offer. This night, I was detoured off my path by a police officer that had absolutely no sympathy for my lack of directional skills. I ended up in God knows where. Called hubbie. He didn’t know how to tell me to get back to where I was going, but he did inform me that I didn’t need to be there (like I hadn’t figured that out). I have always been one to stop and get directions (done it quite often), but this wasn’t a place to ask directions. Just kept driving until I got to an area I could use the GPS. Kinda late for work…

But men haven’t changed when it comes to getting directions. Granted hubbie usually knows where he’s going, but he has these shortcuts which usually add about half an hour to our trip. Another thing is how they give directions. Hubbie always goes “Take Rt. 53’s exit.” “Okay, what number is that? Exit 16, exit 17.” “Don’t know. It’s Rt. 53.” Now see. I go on exit numbers. It’s like when someone tells me to take a right at MacDonald’s. Couldn’t tell you the name of the street, but I know how to take a right at MacDonald’s.

I guess most of life is about perspective. Or like one of my girlfriends told me- Life is like a country song.

Now where was I?

This month over on Novel Works and my blog I’m hosting Spring Fling With Books. Remember Octoberfest and the book give-a-ways. Think Books, books, and more books. For your chance to win copies of books from some of your favorite authors, drop by…even some of our favorite Roses!

ONLINE AUCTION FOR THE CURE FOR DIABETES

Almost showing support for Brenda Novak and her Online Auction for The Cure Diabetes this month of May.

Book give- a-ways for Spring Fling With Books from the Roses of Prose authors also! And for anyone commenting this month here on Roses of Prose, I'll add your name into the mix for the books the week you comment!


Check out the books donated!

Nothing But Trouble

Daughter of Deceit

Whispers of a Legend, Volume I

Abra Cadaver

Alaska Heart

The Trouble With Playboys

A Man Like That

Harvest of Dreams

 Shyanne's Secret

 Storm's Interlude
Honey On White Bread
Tattoos, Leather and Studs