Marco and the Red Granny is a fast-paced story set in a future where an alien race, the Li Jun, have become the driving force behind human art forms. The Li Jun have seven senses rather than the standard five and are able to combine human art forms in ways that twist the mind. They have a colony on the moon where they live and provide patronage to chosen talented artists.

Marco is a graphic artist who thought he had been passed by. His agent thought so too, but within hours of withdrawing representation, she ended up relaying to Marco a Li Jun offer of patronage. Marco believes his ship has come in and catches the next flight to the Moon. On the journey, he meets Heather, the Red Granny, the champion of a death-match reality show created and sponsored by the Li Jun. She doesn’t look like much of a killer to Marco.

The old adage about things looking too good to be true applies. Marco soon makes this realization and realizes the stakes are higher than he could have imagined.

The story that follows moves quickly with sharp turns, and the ending felt just right. The world building is comprehensive enough to give the depth to the story and make me curious to learn more. Marco and the Red Granny was a lot of fun to read and a bargain for the price.

Marco and the Red Granny is available from Amazon in Kindle format:

http://www.amazon.com/Marco-Red-Granny-ebook/dp/B004ASORSE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=digital-text&qid=1306073051&sr=1-1

It’s also available in audio from Podiobook.com.

Other writers when faced with this situation plop their butts in their chairs and write anyway. Me? I find myself paralyzed. Not at all conducive to my goal for the year of reclaiming my identity as a writer. The winter doldrums – I can blame that, can’t I? – have stolen my momentum. I have no energy to spare. Life and school need it all. But I’m the loser in this equation. Right now, the rewrite is mostly stalled. I touched up a chapter for critique group on Sunday. It was the first time I’d touched the manuscript in three weeks.

So, now what?

I know the answer. I have to set aside some time each day to work on the rewrite and some time to write new words. It’s easy to say that, but much harder to do. This morning half of my writing time got siphoned off by the need to reinstall iTunes – can’t write without my music – and the need to reinstall Adobe Reader – not necessary for writing, but since I was dealing with computer problems. And this is what happens. I let myself get distracted. Frequently, it’s practical and even arguably important things that get in the way. Sometimes it’s Twitter and Facebook. I know the answer to that too. I need to go dark, to shut off the internet and email during my writing time. The downside is that it will cut me off from the wonderful support of the #amwriting community on Twitter. I may have to try leaving only Twitter open.

The real question, since I know what I need to do, is which WIP should I pick up whilst I wait for the muse to return? I need fresh inspiration for a new story, something that is complex enough for a book. Ideas tend to grow best when the field is already fertilized. Active writing seems to be the best fertilizer. Reading and watching movies feed my creative brain, but nothing jumpstarts it like the act of writing. My hunch is that I will return to my very first WIP, A CLOSER PARALLEL. It’s YA fantasy, not something I’m exactly qualified to write, but I adore my characters and their world. It needs work. It needs the other half of the story written, which gives me a great way in. The not-so-fun thing for me is that it needs some serious world building. I have to make technology decisions and so forth. Maybe it should have a steampunk element blended with the magic… Decisions, decisions.

I’d like to know how other writers handle the new-word itch when the muse has flown the coop. What works for you?

But about this year. My biggest fears – that are technically within my control – all relate to my writing. I’m afraid that I won’t complete a second book. I’m afraid that my writing is crap beyond redemption. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to learn enough about the craft to fix my first book, which I dearly love. As I do learn more, I become afraid that my writing is worse than crap beyond redemption, that it might be the antimatter that will destroy the universe. Okay, that’s a bit much, but it’s illustrative.

Over time, I’ve discovered that I deal best with fear through action. To that end, I’m dedicating the little free time I have to learning more about the craft. And it’s funny how things fall into place. I’m taking a self-editing workshop now, and I just received an online workshop notification from Pennwriters for a dialog workshop. Only last night I realized that my characters talk too much and do too little. Their talk is all relevant to the plot – how do you stop an author and an actor from talking a lot? – but I need to set more of it against action.

There are other areas in my life that will require courage of the ordinary sort. I’ll be finishing my medical transcription course this year. Then I’ll have to write a resume – eep! – and find a job. I’ve been a stay-at-home-mom for the last nine years. There isn’t much to put on that resume. References will be a problem. I’ve lost touch with my mentor/former boss. My other potential reference was elderly 10 years ago when I left. Oh, I don’t want to think about this.

So, I just took a deep breath and reminded myself that I need to take one thing at a time. I don’t think the fear will go away, but I will find ways to deal with it. Heck, even heroes are afraid. I reminded my daughter yesterday that heroes are people who do the right thing even when they are afraid. I don’t need to be a hero, but the concept applies.

I know I’m not alone with my fears, so I’d like to hear how everyone else copes.

                This morning my first chapter came back. I sweated over this chapter. I think I bled, maybe from an ulcer, over this chapter. No, I did not cry over it. But I rewrote it three times already. First chapters are so important to a story’s success or failure. So I was seriously nervous when I opened the email. But guess what? It didn’t hurt.

                My critique partner nailed me on some issues that I hadn’t caught. She pointed out the weakness of my opening line. It’s weak. I see that now. She pointed out how I have stretches of dialog with no action. This I need to mull over. I agree with her point, but any action I add must be relevant. She also pointed out that there’s a long conversation that needs to be cut down. It’s already been cut down considerably, but more is going to be chopped. The comments apply beyond chapter one. My overall impression? This is good, and I have work to do. Also, I’m excited about that work. Right now, I have an I-can-do-this attitude. Hopefully, that won’t get lost along the way.

                Decision time. Do I continue my rewriting from where I am, or do I go back and work on the first chapter now? I’m leaning toward continuing with the rewrite because I don’t want to lose my forward momentum. I’ll work on some of the other edits as solutions come to me and tackle the bulk later.  One step of the journey at a time.

Goal #1 – I will reclaim my identity as a writer.

I have a completed first draft of a novel and four other partial drafts. The complete draft is currently undergoing a total rewrite including a change of narrative voice. Progress has been slow but steady, and I’m satisfied with it. I am mentally playing with another idea, but it needs more stewing time before I can do anything with it. This one will be an opportunity to try some new planning techniques. Planning and organization are things I need more of in my writing life. Two or three of the other drafts will get my attention next. Though I don’t believe they are saleable, they have value in that I can use them to hone the craft. I like these stories and want to complete them for my own satisfaction. Those million bad words have to go somewhere. I also must work to connect with other writers for critiquing. It’s past time to take that step. Also, I will work on blogging more consistently. If I succeed with my other writing goals, at least I may have something to write about.

Goal #2 – I will reclaim my identity as a musician.

Specifically, I will return to my choirs. Family medical issues have kept me away for 18 months. The music does my muse and my spirit good. Last week I just sang in my first concert in far too long. It was a euphoric experience. Perhaps the singing regularly will help me retrieve my high notes from the last remnants of the swine flu.

Goal #3 – I will reclaim my identity as a runner.

Actually, I’ve been working on this one more or less since August. What is required, is more commitment. I ran in high school. Badly. Very badly. I was the person who came in last. I made peace with that a long time ago. Exercise-induced asthma does force some limitations. Nonetheless, I liked how I felt physically when I was a runner, and I liked how I felt about myself. I need to do this for my physical health as well as my mental health. And when else am I going to find time to listen to podcasts? There are a bunch I need to catch up with before Balticon.

Goal #4 – I will be more organized with the house and the finances and my schoolwork and…

My plate is so full that I’m grateful it isn’t made of paper. My life would be all over the floor. I’m adapting some of the wisdom of Flylady. I’m back to taking baby steps. Everything can be done with baby steps. It’s working for my rewrite. My house is already looking cleaner. The bills are getting paid. I am changing the monologue in my head. No longer am I beating myself up for my very real failing, but I’m encouraging myself to be the person I want to be. It goes like this: “I like when I am the person that ___.” Then I go do that thing that I otherwise might have shrugged off. Then I feel good about myself. Stupidly simple but progress builds upon itself. There you have it, my approach to change. I’m not waiting for January first to start. Tomorrow, if the Girlie goes to school, I will go for my run. If she stays home sick, then I will get on the exercise bike. It’s been lonely, I think. I’ll have the opportunity to read some more of Mur Lafferty’s Playing For Keeps. I will make time to work on the rewrite. I will spend some time on my schoolwork. But that’s tomorrow. Right now, I have to go reboot the laundry.

                In my defense, I’ve had a whopping case of writer’s block all year. Second novel-itis, perhaps. The block has been the size of an Egyptian pyramid stone. After much hemming, hawing, and self-loathing, I decided that the only solution was to start chipping at it. I needed to write. Period. And it was high time for me to rewrite the first novel.

                So I started working on the rewrite with the goal of applying for a fiction workshop at the Pennwriters annual conference. The application period is in January. The rewrite seemed to be going well, but very slowly. The word count still hovers at less than 3,000. However, I know exactly where I’m going. The first draft is garbage, but the characters and plot are good. I have a roadmap.

                Fast forward to Thanksgiving. I was feeling antsy. My identity as a writer still suffered in spite of the modest progress on the rewrite. I missed the sense of accomplishment at knocking out a thousand words a day. A glance at the calendar told me I was screwed. There were only five and a half days left of NaNo. My kernel of an idea had had a whole three weeks to percolate. Usually I brew a story for a month or two before beginning. In desperation, I abandoned my internal editor and started to spew words. Some of it is actual writing and some of it is description of writing to come.

                It’s been an exhilarating few days. The word count on my WIP stands at 10,159. I’m pleased. The project will now get some shelf time while I return to my rewrite. December won’t be NaNoFiMo for me this year. It’s all good. I feel that I’ve reclaimed my identity as a writer.

                I would love to hear from others who participated this year. Did you win? Or did you benefit in another way?

I’ve had my eye on NaNoWriMo since last year when I made my first attempt. No, I did not “win” last year. In fact I didn’t even come close. It’s okay because at least I gave it a shot. Since I finished the first draft of The Half of It, I have been suffering from serious writer’s block, or maybe it’s writer’s ADD. I get 10-30K into a project and realize it’s going nowhere. I haven’t been able to find an idea that I can sustain over 90K words. It’s shaking my confidence. So while I have been planning to do NaNoWriMo this year, the drought of inspiration kept me from signing up.

Today I leaped. I have a kernel of an idea. Even though I am now doing what I should have been doing for the last three months, it’s still a start. I have 2 characters, a vague idea of a plot, and a title. As was pointed out by an interviewee on Mur Lafferty’s podcast, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain by doing this. Wish me luck.