When to let others see...

When I first started out writing I would never even dream about letting anyone read my work until I had finished writing it, now, I don't think I'd get anywhere without the great feedback I get from my critique group.

I admit, I get nervous when I submit a newly written chapter, knowing that it's more probably going to be torn to shreds (over and over and over again), but isn't that how you learn and grow? By receiving honest criticism about what's wrong with the story or what I'm doing right, it helps me decide what parts of the story needs to be changed, and it helps to identify which parts are confusing (I'm experiencing that with my new story at the moment. I think something is straightforward and clear, but I've received a couple of reviews that questions the actions... now I'm stuck with trying to figure out how to describe it properly).

So, what do you look for when trying to find a critique group?

1. Honest feedback even if it's negative - yeah, you might like someone who always loves what you're writing, but if they won't tell you which parts are not working, then you will never know what might need to be changed.
2. Commitment - both you and your review partners need to be committed to reading and reviewing chapters on a regular basis.
3. Understands/likes your genre - Someone that only reads romance might not be the best one to review a YA or Fantasy story (me, I'm a part of a YA crit group, so we all love what we all write).
4. Supporting - well, this isn't necessary, but it can sure help. My crit group is always there when feeling down or there's a success. It's always good to find a group that supports your goals.

So, do you have a critique group or beta reader for your wriitng? And, when do you let someone read your writing?

Terror Tuesday Blogfest

Today's blogfest is hosted by Mary McDonald and as the name suggests, it's a challenge to post a scene that gets the heart racing.

So, here's my scene (I hope it incorporates the feeling of terror). My character has just been kidnapped and she wakes up in a little hut. My MC has no idea what's happening to her, but the other character, the doctor, thinks this is just a normal routine.

• I jolt awake. Sitting up, I feel the rough wooden floor beneath me, and rub my aching temple. My eyes dart around my new surroundings. I try to focus but all I get is a blurry vision of an empty room. And, I mean empty. There’s not even a chair or bed or any furniture. There’s only one door and no windows
  
  I push myself off the ground and stumble towards the door. Gripping the handle to keep myself up, I try turning it, but it won’t budge.
  
  Footsteps sound outside, coming to a stop in front of the door. I watch as the handle turns and the door open. I rush from the door and push myself into the furthest corner of my cell.
  
  A woman enters the room, her hazel eyes fixing on me. Her long brown hair falls in curls over her thin olive face. Her long white lab coat swirls as she moves into the room, revealing the light blue v-neck tee shirt and faded jeans she has on beneath it. “So, you’re finally awake.” She moves towards me beaming a big friendly smile. Her entire presences projects warm and cuddly medical expert. Except, that is, for the gleaming syringe clutched in her right hand.
  
  I press my way further into the corner, striving to melt through the tough wooden wall and escape. Doesn’t seem to be working.
  
  “Don’t worry, this won’t hurt a bit.” She reaches and grabs my flailing arm. “Honestly, why are you all such babies when it comes to a little pin prick?”
  
  Struggling against her iron grip, I watch helplessly as the needle sinks into my arm and the small vial on its end fill with blood.
  
  “Relax, it’s just a few routine tests, then you’re on your way.” She removes the sample cartridge from the needle and, placing it in a small plastic bag, stows it in her lab coat. Leaning in close to me, she places her fingers either side of my chin and gingerly turns my head from one side to the other. “They really should have brought you to me sooner.”
  
  “What do you want with me?” I manage to spit out.
  
  Still clutching my chin she stares me in the eyes. “You’re different from the others. Something’s off.”
  
  “Please, I don’t want to die,” I whisper. Tears blurs my vision.
  
  She lets go of me and takes a step backward. She removes a mobile phone from her pocket and starts dialling a number. After a few moments of silence she finally says, “We have a situation here.”
  
  'Just take care of it like you would any other. I hear the other side of the conversation clearly as if they’re both standing in front of me.'
  
  “Don’t you know what you’re asking?” The woman gives me a quick look before turning around to face the door. The ‘still’ open door.
  
  'It wouldn’t be in your best interest to report this.'
  
  Without waiting for the woman to pay any more attention to me, I push off the wall and charge toward the open door. I knock her to the ground as I bolt outside. A vast wilderness greets me. Aged trees with flaking bark towers over me.
  
  I’m not going to stop to find out where I am. I keep heading in the only direction that makes sense, away from the deranged psychopath with the needle. Rain buckets down, but that’s not going to stop me. Branches claw me as I push through the foliage.
  
  A twig snaps behind me. Whoever was at the door must be up and chasing after me.
  
  A low inhuman growl wafts across the field. There's something else out here. The mud squelches as it approaches. They left me, and now there's something out here. I hate my life.
  
  I force myself to my feet and run in the direction that makes the most sense, away from that thing. There's only one thought in my head, and that's to get the hell out of here. The creature's roar echoes around me.
  
  I turn my head. My feet catch on a twisted tree root and send me crashing to the muddy earth.
  
  I strain my eyes trying to see whatever's out here stalking me. The rain obscures my vision. Briefly, I catch a glimpse of it between the trees. A warped, misshaped creature caught somewhere between a man and a wolf. Jagged silver quills protrude all over its body like a ball of spikes ready to burst at any moment. Its glowing yellow eyes are smouldering beacons in the darkness.
  
  It takes half a second for the terror to hit. I bolt.
  
  Its warm breath brushes the back of my neck. I run faster, trying not to slip in the mud. No matter how quick I move, it's right there behind me. It's toying with me. This is how the poor girl in those horror movies must feel.
  
  Every muscle aches. The icy air rushes painfully into my lungs. What's the worst that can happen if I just stop and play dead right here? The creature utters another bowel-shaking roar. I take that back, it would be very, very bad. I don't want to die here.
  
  A building comes into view. Out here among this wilderness I would have expected a small hut, but it looks like a decaying house, and the closer I get more buildings come into view. I skid to a stop and look around, my breathing is erratic and I can’t even hear the wind above my heartbeat.
  
  Every place looks ancient and withered. Nature creeps slowly, strangling some places with foliage. Others have collapsed under the pressure of disuse.
  
  The disturbing graveyard of a town pales in comparison to the massive stone edifice crouched behind it. A gothic structure constructed out of dark grey bricks. Vines claw their way up its sides as if trying to drag the towering megalith down into the very earth on which it rests. Tall spires erupt from the rooftop at bizarre angles seemingly without reason. Even in the growing daylight, the building remains darkly ominous. The spattering of crows circling above doesn’t do much to lessen the air of menace.
  
  A tall gate constructed of the same dark bricks surrounds the massive structure, with iron spikes on top that stretches towards the heavens.
  
  “Welcome to Haven,” a voice whispers in my ear before I’m hit from behind and darkness takes over me once again.

Hope you liked it.

Time is only a Figment of One's Imagination

Wow, today was the first day I've had off in roughly two months... seriously. And, surprise, surprise, I spent most of the day catching up on overdue writing (& music) obligations.

Today's Stats:
Haven: 16 chapters edited (yep... lots of work done... yay)
Heroes: 1 chapter written
Critique: 1 review given for my critique group
Music: over 1 hour of guitar practice (wow, my guitar teacher is going to be S.H.O.C.K.E.D...)

Boy, when you don't have much else to do, you can definitely get through a lot...

Over the past couple of months with my very busy schedule, it got me thinking about setting up a specific time to do my writing (at the moment organisation isn't in my dictionary). I know that my day changes and on normal days I would not be able to get my writing done during the day (actually I have trouble finding time to write during the hours that most normal people are actually awake).

One thing I know for sure is that I've got to get in a habit of finding that one bit of time where I won't be disturbed (I need lots of luck with that) and try to block out all forms of distractions... yeah, procrastination is actually bad for getting any work done, who'd have thought it?

So, do you set aside a time that you write or do you write whenever you find any time.

Dream Sequence Blogfest

Woohoo, who doesn't love a blogfest? And, this one is brought to you by Amelia over at Good to Begin Well. As the title suggests, it requires a sequence of a dream from a novel. The scene I've chosen takes place at the beginning of my novel, Haven (no, it's not the first word of the novel).

----

The scene plays out as if I’m watching a movie. You know that point in a dream where you suddenly realise it’s a dream. Well, since I’ve had it every night – for at least a week – I’m certain this isn’t real.

It’s always the same. I stand in a church. Don’t ask me why a church – I’m not religious, I’m not even sure if I’ve ever set foot inside one. Thin streamers of light drift down through the dirt-encrusted stained glass, making spider webs glisten high up in the rafters. The few pews that remain standing sag. The rest are kindling strewn across the floor.

I move down the aisle. The floorboards creak beneath my feet. Each step launches swooning billows of dust flying through the air. I can see it. A single mirror stands isolated at the far end. Believe me, I don’t want to be anywhere near it, but my feet have a mind of their own.

The mirror is not normal. Its surface casts no reflection. All I can see beneath the glass is a vast sea of jet-black nothingness, and yet, I know something is hiding there within the shadows. Something that waits for me, watching me. That’s what scares me most.

It’s silly to be scared. I know it’s only a dream, but there is something eerily familiar about all this. And a deep longing. I can’t resist its thrall.

A growl from within the darkness rattles the glass. It could be my stomach, but I doubt it. Then, those eyes appear. Blood red, with a gaze that tears straight through my soul. I’m frozen.

‘No escape.’ A voice that doesn’t resemble anything even remotely human growls.

A smell drifts past my nose and makes my mouth water. It smells something like cinnamon and honey, but I know it isn’t. My gaze dances around the room, coming to rest on a delicate golden chalice resting on an altar beside the mirror.

Reaching out, every nerve screams I must have it. Using my other hand, I try to stop myself. I don’t want it, I just have to tell my mutinous hand that. It won’t stop. I grip the smooth stem. It pulsates with warmth. The thick crimson liquid swirls within the bowl. Raising the cup to my mouth, my heart races as the warm liquid touches my lips.

‘No escape,’ the voice sneers in a low growl.

----

So, that's my sequence. Stay tuned for more fun blogfests heading your way.

Now is then, then was now

There is so many arguments out there at the moment about what tense you should write in. Almost all of the critiques I get back from the group give me the same comment "not many agents are willing to take on a present tense novel". But, that's not going to change how I write my novel. I find present tense so much easier to write in because I can hear the character's voice so clearly (and more often they're little smart alecs and their internal monologue needs to speak in the now).

So, why is there so much hate on present tense? You hear so many people say that they will not read anything that's written in present tense, but pick up a novel in the YA section and 1, it's probably going to be 1st person, and 2, there's going to be a chance that it's present tense.

So, what's the difference between this (taken from the start of Heroes):

• Flying monkey robots, how original.
  
  The distinctive smell of burning wood and paper sweeps through the room. One of the shelves gives way under the heat, sending smouldering books scattering across the floor. The romance section, I think. Bodice rippers. Kindling's 'bout the only thing they're good for anyway. Something tells me I'm going to be the one who has to clean that up.
  
  I turn my attention back to the shelf of mp3 players I am supposed to be restocking. What's the point? Other stores let their employees go to lunch during a fire fight, but no, I have to stay and put the merch on the shelves. I think they want me to suffer.

And, this:

• Flying monkey robots, how original.
  
  The distinctive smell of burning wood and paper swept through the room. One of the shelves collapsed under the heat, sending smouldering books scattering across the floor. The romance section. Bodice rippers. Kindling was 'bout the only thing they were good for anyway. Something told me I was going to be the one who has to cleaned that up.
  
  I turned my attention back to the shelf of mp3 players I was supposed to be restocking. What was the point? Other stores let their employees go to lunch during a fire fight, but no, I had to stay and put the merch on the shelves.

I thought since there's so much argument about which tense or POV is used in stories it would be good to look at the stories that people are reading today. Okay then, what sort of YA books are making it into the current best sellers on Amazon.com?

For 3rd person there's:

•  Fablehaven by Brandon Mull
• Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling
• The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel by Michael Scott
• Infinity by Sherrilyn Kenyon
• Rangers Apprentice by John Flanagan

For 1st person past tense there's:

• the Percy Jackson series by Rick Riordan
• Morganville Vampires by Rachel Caine
• Twilight Saga by Stephenie Myers
• Vampire Academy series by Richelle Mead
• House of Night series by P.C & Kristin Cast

For 1st person present tense there's:

• The Immortal series by Alyson Noel
• The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie
• Maximum Ride series by James Patterson
• The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins (followed by Catching Fire and Mocking Jay)
• Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater
• The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
• Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney
• The Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordan
• Wake series by Lisa McMann
• The Gemma Doyle trilogy by Libba Bray

Wow, I didn't even expect that result. So, I still don't understand why people say that one POV or one tense is better than the other. If the writing's good, then that should be enough no matter how it's written.

So, what's your opinions? Do you like reading a particular style (tense or POV) or do you read whatever sounds good?

Wind-down Wednesday

What a wonderful Wednesday it is. It was gloomy and rainy and still we had to go to sports, so I ended up standing (shivering) under the little shelter while watching crazy kids slip and slide while trying to play touch football.

But, on the bright side, I've only got two more days left at school and I think I'm winning... the kids are FINALLY starting to listen to me.

To start off such a wonderful day I would like to thank Slushpile Slut for awarding me with the Beautiful Blogger Award

And, I would love to pass it on to:

• Deb Salisbury
• Annie Mcmahon
• Mary Macdonald
• Laura B Diamond
• Kurt Chambers

Now for the fun. Every day it seems like the amount of contests and blogfests just keep expanding. This week some of the new contests that have appeared are:

• Nathan Bransford is holding a contest in honour of Rock Paper Tiger. He's holding a chase/action scene contest. All you have to do is post your most exciting chase or action scene in the comments of the contest post. Here's a chance to win a critique from the man himself or even a 10 minute phone conversation with him.
• Ink in All Forms is giving away a fab YA giveaway full of all the things you'll need to kill some hours reading.
• Writer's Alley is holding a fantastic giveaway of books and critiques. All you have to do is create a caption or flash story to the picture shown in the post.

I also can't forget about the fantastic blogfests that are taking place this week:

• Amelia T. is hosting the Dreamsequence Blogfest on June 4th
• Rachel Bateman is hosting the Beach Scene Blogfest on June 5th
• Mary Macdonald is hosting the Terror Tuesday Blogfest on June 8th
• And, don't forget about mine Tales from the Sidelines for all the minor characters out there (set for the date July 8th)

 Wow, there seems to be so much happening at the moment, so make sure you all jump in and have some fun. Hope everyone has a great Wednesday.

Ooh is that the time?

And here I am, trying to keep my eyes open and realising I haven't posted. Here's a confession, I have absolutely no idea of what to write either. Life has definitely been busy lately (I've also realised that working over a month straight is not good for one's health).

I've got a week left of school placement, and I've learnt a lot while I've been teaching the darlings...

1. Students don't like to behave for subs (my mentor was sick for two days so I had someone else sitting in the class with me... boy that was a chaotic nightmare).
2. Guilt does wonder... watching the masters at work with putting guilt on the children for misbehaving was like watching a brilliant performance... I wonder if I'll ever be able to do that.
3. A lot of planning goes into figuring out not only what to teach, but how... especially when teenagers DON'T like reading (*gasp* yes, I wouldn't believe it too if I didn't see it with my own eyes).

So, instead of planning my lessons or catching up on writing (which my beta reader demands me too) I've been procrastinating, but in a good way. Let me offer you up the proof. Exhibit A is the blog. Instead of doing the work I really "should" be doing, I've been re-designing it.

Oh well, it was time worth wasted. And, before I knew it, it was way late (11pm here) and I have to get up 5am... whoops.

Has anyone else ever done this? Been so involved in something that the time has just slipped away? Also, how does the blog look?