Power of Tension Blogfest

This week, Cally Jackson and Rachel Morgan are hosting The Power of Tension Blogfest. We are to post an excerpt (300 words or less) that drips with tension and leaves the reader wanting to know more. My entry is from my epic fantasy, In the Seventeenth Year. Enjoy!

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“They’re coming up the walk,” the limping man said.

Keenan ignored the excited murmurs buzzing through the room. None of the others knew the reason for the meeting. Moira dismissed their questions, saying only that she would explain everything when Ellis and Garrick arrived. They gave Keenan curious stares, but Moira did not introduce him, and his sullen manner successfully discouraged any attempts at conversation.

Keenan steeled himself as he watched the door. After contemplating Moira’s story all afternoon, he still he did not know what to make of it. He would never have believed it, save for one fact: Father did not deny her claim. On the contrary, he knew exactly what she was talking about.

What interested Keenan most was that his supposed “mother” had kept his brother. If she could keep one son, why not both? Why did she leave him to face Father and his dagger night after night, while she and her other son lived a peaceful life just one hour away? If Moira was telling the truth, and he could only conclude that she was, then his mother possessed the coldest heart in all of Fairfax.

The door handle jiggled. Keenan felt a twinge of excitement, despite himself. What were these people, his “family,” like? Would his brother look like him? He had not thought to ask if they were identical twins.

“Here they come,” Moira whispered in his ear.

The door swung open.

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That's it! Thanks for reading, and please click here for links to the rest of the entries.

Have a great Monday, everyone! Did you do anything fun over the weekend? I finished painting the basement (whew!) and spent Sunday at Six Flags.

Last Line Blogfest

Lilah Pierce is hosting Last Line Blogfest today (today being Saturday - ignore the time stamp on my post, it's all messed up). This is my entry. It is the end of a chapter taken from my epic fantasy, In the Seventeenth Year. In this scene, Ellis has just learned that her trusted friend Kaden has been working as a spy for the evil King Xavier, and now she's run into him at the outdoor market. Ellis's three sons are on a quest to overthrow Xavier, and their lives are put in danger by Kaden's betrayal.



Ellis's jaw tightened. "He was not watching me. You were watching me for him."

"I must say, I have done my part admirably over the years."

"Did he pay you?" Ellis asked. "Did you sell your soul for gold? Or power?"

"Neither. I have never asked for anything more than retribution, pure and simple. When Xavier visited me the day after my family was murdered, I asked for his help, not the other way around."

Ellis scowled. "Your only motivation is hate. Your heart is even blacker than I imagined."

"Ellis? Is everything all right?" Ellis and Kaden both jumped at the sound of an unexpected voice. Ellis turned to see Bremer watching her, his wide eyes full of concern.

She managed a stilted smile. "Yes, we're fine. Kaden was just saying goodbye."

Bremer eyed Kaden suspiciously, but Kaden ignored him and continued to stare at Ellis. "Yes, we were just saying goodbye. Do take care of yourself, won't you, El?" Limping closer, he wrapped his arm around Ellis and leaned in, putting his mouth against her ear. "Soon you will bury your dead, and then we will be even."

To Outline, or Not to Outline

I'll begin with some disappointing news. This past week I heard back from Leucrota Press, the fantasy/sci fi publisher that's had my manuscript, In the Seventeenth Year, under consideration for over a year. They emailed a rejection, but it came with some very encouraging comments and a helpful critique, which I am immensely grateful for. I plan to make the changes they suggested and continue submitting In the Seventeenth Year.

In the meantime, I'm still working hard on Killing Kessler. As I mentioned last week, I received some excellent constructive criticism and have been revising accordingly. Some of these comments were far-reaching and required major plot changes, so now I find myself rewriting almost the entire second half of the book. I'm trying something new as I do this, sort of an experiment. I'm writing as I go along without having everything planned out in advance -- flying by the seat of my pants you might even say.

I'm a planner, not just in writing but in all areas of my life. When I begin a new book, I spend at least a month creating a detailed outline, character biographies, setting sketches, and just about anything else I can think of that might help keep me on track. But I purposely did not plan this rewrite. I knew what needed to change, and I just dug in and started making it happen.

Of course it's all slop at the moment, as my first drafts always are. But some interesting things are happening now, things I didn't plan for. It's kind of fun this way: even I don't know what's coming next. My characters are getting themselves into all sorts of situations I didn't see coming. There have been times when I did not know what a character would do next until my fingers typed the words. I've heard about people who write this way, but I never thought I, with all my organization and planning tendencies, could be one of them.

Like I said, I'm in the rough draft "slop" stage right now. I really don't know how it will turn out. I may revise and find I can't use a word of it. I may write myself into a corner and not know how to get out. I may end up with so many loose ends that I can never tie them together. I suppose, even if those things happen, that I'll have learned and grown as a writer, and that's always worth the effort. I'll let you know sometime (soon, I hope!) hope my experiment works out.

So now I'm wondering about the rest of your writers, artists, etc. out there. Do you prepare a detailed outline in advance, or do you fly by the seat of your pants? I've heard of successful writers in both camps. Have you found any pros or cons that you could share?

Until next Sunday, happy writing, and may your coffee pot never run dry.