Featured From the Archives: Plot Bunnies; Friend or Foe?

May 9, 2014KWhipkey 5 Comments

Now that we’re officially into the second year of Nightwolf’s Corner shenanigans, I think it’s time to dredge up another post from the archives. And since last week’s stats rundown showed this fluffy little guy was languishing in the Basket of the Unwanted, I thought, why not dust it off and let it hop its way back up the popularity charts. (Yikes, could I have stuffed any more rabbit puns into that sentence? Clearly, my snark-fund is running low this week.)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this sarcasm-fueled look at a plague writers know all too well, complete with my somewhat lame strategy for how to deal with them.

Plot Bunnies; Friend or Foe?

By Kisa Whipkey

(Originally Posted on 5/18/12)

Firstly, what the heck is a plot bunny? According to Urban Dictionary, it’s “an idea for a story (usually referring to Fanfiction [writing your own version of someone else’s story]) that gnaws at the brain until written.”

I stumbled upon this amusing little moniker while reading through the blog of one of my favorite authors, Maggie Stiefvater (check her out, she’s very entertaining). I’d never heard the term before, not being prone to write stories featuring other people’s characters/worlds. I mean, really, why would I want to mooch off someone else’s ideas when I’m drowning in hundreds of my own? Literally, hundreds. But anyway, I found the term endearing and adopted it. So you’ll hear me refer to plot bunnies quite a bit. Which prompted this post. Before I started throwing that term around and no one would know what I was talking about, I figured I’d better explain it.

Despite their adorable name, I actually define plot bunnies as procrastination and fear-of-failure personified. Every writer suffers from them. Usually, when you least want them around. And if you aren’t graced with their obnoxious presence, well, then, good for you. You’re one of the lucky few, and probably a bit inspirationally challenged. The rest of us carry around overflowing cages, bursting to the brim with plot bunnies that breed like, well, bunnies. Every so often, a few will make a run for it, escaping from their confinement to wreak havoc in whatever project we’re currently bordering on boredom with, and completely distracting us from anything productive until we wrangle them back into a newly-constructed, extra cage, and the process starts all over again. (Whew! That was a long one. Is there some kind of award for that?)

So, are they friend, or foe? I’ve found that it really depends on the day. Some days, (like those rare moments between projects when you can step away from your computer and realize the world actually still exists), they can be your best friend, bringing you bright, shiny paths of freshly minted inspiration and leading you ever closer to the coveted title of “prolific.” Other days, (like when you’re in the middle of an important, complex, pulling-teeth kind of scene that you’d rather jump in front of a bus than write), you really just want to take them out back and shoot them in the head.

This week, they’re heading toward being on my kill list. They’ve gotten decidedly more rampant since I finally figured out where my aimless work-in-progress (aptly and ironically titled Unmoving) was going. In the past two months alone, I’ve had 8 of the little buggers spring up . . . oh, nope, better make that 9. (Stupid radio, playing random-song-I’ve-never-heard-before and spawning yet another plot bunny.) Some are more demanding than others, requiring my complete attention and blocking out any hope of moving Unmoving forward. Others are just a tiny glimmer of an idea, a baby bunny shyly showing its whiskers for the first time. But all of them are extremely annoying.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to be drowning in overflowing inspiration. But when you suffer from a distinct lack of ability to finish anything, prolific ideas only get you so far. Maybe I have writer’s ADD, growing bored with projects well before they’re done and becoming easily distracted by the shiny new fur and whispered promises of plot bunnies. Or maybe I just have a hard time sticking with something that, for me, has been finished for months, and continuing to write it feels like sludging my way through a movie I’ve seen 8 million times. (There are many days I fervently wish my brain had a USB port and a download button. That would make life so much easier! Wouldn’t it?) Or maybe I’m just lazy, and completing a story on paper, to the level my perfectionist side demands, requires far more work than I really want to expend. Whatever my problem, plot bunnies equal bad news.

How do I deal with them? Since they’re a figment of my imagination, I can’t really take them out back and kill them. Well, I could, but that might make me a candidate for the title of Schizophrenic Bunny Murderer. Besides, I’ll need those shiny new ideas when I finally finish my current project, (or when I can’t stand it anymore and move on, adding yet another unfinished story to my Drawer of Fragments). You never know, one of those cute little fur-balls driving me insane might just land me on the NY Times Bestseller List. Eventually. Someday. If I can ever finish something again.

No, my strategy for dealing with plot bunnies isn’t violent at all. I actually humor them. I give them their moment in the spotlight and let them rule the creative half of my brain, until eventually, they run themselves into exhaustion and shut up. Sometimes, it only requires giving the new idea a title, solidifying it into existence by the sheer power of naming it. Other times, I have to write the whole plot in my head, complete with character bios, description and dialogue. And recently, one super annoying bunny decided I had to pinpoint the exact, and very real, setting before it’d leave me in peace.

Eventually though, they do all quiet down. I can then add them to my ever-growing to-do list of ideas (seriously, at last count I had 164 potential stories, including the 9 that just popped up) and return to the task at hand — the grueling process of moving Unmoving closer to completion.

So my advice to writers debating whether or not to turn their plot bunnies into new fur coats is this; try giving them the reins for just a short period of time. Do whatever it is that will satisfy that insatiable urge to follow them down the rabbit hole. Whether it be my method, or (as I’ve seen suggested by other authors) writing a short story/synopsis of the premise, or something else of your own creation, I promise, they do eventually shut up and let you work.

And let’s face it, until you learn what your particular method for dealing with them is, you’re probably going to find yourself as unmoving as my current project.

“Bunny–Better Quality” by Vic-The-Raccoon

Blogiversary Link Round-up: Year 2

May 2, 2014May 2, 2014KWhipkey 4 Comments

Guess what? Today officially marks the initiation of Nightwolf’s Corner into the Terrible Twos! That’s right, two years ago today, I posted my first ever blog post. (Holy bejeesus, that’s a long time ago!) Things have changed a lot around here since that first step into the blogosphere — I reached 100 followers, and then passed 200 before I even knew it; I’ve featured guest posts and giveaways, and wrote my 100th blog post; you’ve watched me venture into the world of the professional editor and serialized fiction. But one thing hasn’t changed — me. I’m still the same aspiring author/starving artist who set out to provide a fun, sometimes informative, sometimes sarcastic look at all things creativity. It amazes me that there over 200 of you that care what I have to say. I’m humbled, and completely flattered, and I can’t even begin to tell you what that support means to me.

So, today, I say thanks. And look back at last year with a fond, misty-eyed moment of nostalgia (which may or may not also have to do with the fact that I just ate the last of my Cadbury mini-eggs for the year). Care to relive the glory (of the blog, not the mini-eggs, although they were epic) with me? (Good, because you really didn’t have a choice. 😉 )

Over the past year, I’ve written a grand total of 66,770 words for the blog. While my grand total in actual fiction is lurking somewhere in the 10,000 range. Good to know some things don’t change, right?

Surprisingly, my most popular post this year was How to Write Martial Arts Fight Scenes, while the least popular were Memorializing Firsts: A Celebration of Author Bridget Zinn, Channels of Distribution, The Devil’s in the Details, Plot Bunnies; Friend or Foe?, My Ode to Bose, Storytelling for Demo Teams, & Two Steps Closer Giveaway. Given how old some of those are, I’m thinking it may have had more to do with age, and not necessarily subject. (Perhaps a few will be featured in my new Featured From the Archives series . . .)

My name was the top Googled thing that led people to my little digital home, while Twitter holds the record for highest referrals. Elitism in the Arts, and funnily enough, considering its place in the least popular posts, The Devil’s in the Details received the most shares. (Hmm, maybe my stats aren’t all that accurate, after all.)

The title of Longest Post goes to Exploring the Subgenres of Science Fiction, and the shortest was Writing Workshop Alert: Have You Scene It? Not really surprising, since it was just an announcement.

This year featured a grand total of 9 Guest Posts (conveniently flagged in the Index as such) and brought you 3 new series: From the Editor’s Desk, Featured from the Archives, and Featured Art. Oh, and there was also that little opportunity to read Unmoving well before it’s finished. That was pretty cool, too. 😉

I even learned how to play with GIF’s this year — My Average Day as an Editor (In GIFs) — and interviewed two authors about their journeys to publication — A Double Dose of Awesome: Author Interview & Holiday Giveaway & Conquering the Publishing Divide: An Interview With Author Jessa Russo.

So, all in all, it was a pretty productive year.

But the reason most of you are here, I’m sure, is because today’s the day I announce the winners for not one, but TWO giveaways. (I may have been a little giveaway happy this year, too. But I don’t think you’ll complain. Right?)

Okay, I won’t leave you in suspense anymore. Here are the lucky people winning whatever it was they signed up for:

For the eBook of Divide by Jessa Russo, the winners are . . .

Kathleen P.

Courtney W.

Brock G.

And, because I received over 400 entries in my blog-birthday giveaway, the 5 lucky people walking away with their chosen book are . . .

Alexandra P.

Gabriela C.

Alexandra T.

Mandy S.

Tiffany T.

Congratulations to the winners, and a HUGE thank you to everyone who participated. I’ll be emailing the winners with information about their prizes over the next week.

That’s all I’ve got for today. But before I go, let’s raise a glass of something — water, soda, wine, or, in my case, energy drink — and have a toast: here’s to another year of snarky festivities, helpful information, and lots and lots of writing. Cheers!

Featured From the Archives: Why do you . . . (Insert Creative Verb Here)?

April 11, 2014April 11, 2014KWhipkey 6 Comments

As the 2nd year anniversary of my blogging experiment draws near, I realize I’ve reached the point where many of my followers probably haven’t read the older posts. So periodically, I’m going to feature one of those archived gems (which pretty much means I ran out of time and/or motivation that week) and give you a chance to discover them again. (Or, for the first time, as the case may be.)

Today’s feature is one that hopefully doesn’t offend too many people. But with all the various blog hops going around (like the ones I, myself, have participated in recently), and posts about what it means to be a (insert whatever creative term you were reading about), it seemed like the perfect time to showcase this again. (Plus, I’m feeling a tad under the weather, and my pesky muse decided to high-tail herself out of the plague zone. ) So, to kick off my new/old series, I present: Why Do You . . . (Insert Creative Verb Here)? A snarky, honest post about what we’re all really thinking when you ask us this. (Warning, contains tongue-in-cheek sarcasm and blunt reality. Read with your serious-meter on half.)

Oh! And don’t forget, I still have that fantabulous (yes, that’s a word. Shut it before I hurl this NyQuil bottle at your head) giveaway I’m running in honor of my upcoming blogiversary. I’ve already received over 300 entries, so three lucky people will be receiving the book they chose from the list. And if you’d like to make it four (and to see whether or not what I’m saying is a cold-med induced hallucination) click here!

Back to the post!

Why Do You . . . (Insert Creative Verb Here)?

By Kisa Whipkey

(Originally Posted on 5/11/12)

This is probably the most-asked question of creative people -– sometimes even by other creative people. And it’s one of the more irritating ones, because it’s such a hard thing to quantify. It’s like asking someone why their eyes are blue, or why they were born in the morning. How do you answer that? So, understandably, the answers to why someone’s creative vary wildly depending on the person. You’ll hear things like:

“I’m not sure, I just do.”

“Because it makes me happy.”

“Because it’s therapy for me; it helps me express myself.”

And my personal favorite, “I do it for me.”

Now, the truth is, all of these answers are sugar-coated, watered-down replies meant to make the artist look more artsy; to make the listener think, “ooo, aren’t they cool? They’re so mysterious and vague.” Personal satisfaction is great, but you go to the gym for personal satisfaction, you don’t pour weeks, months, years, heart and soul into a project just for personal satisfaction. I mean, don’t answers like that just seem so full of themselves? Why narcissism is encouraged within the arts is beyond me, but the more self-involved the answer, the more prestige points an artist receives. And the more frequently you’ll hear responses like the above.

Personally, I view every one of those answers as a cop-out. Because ultimately, statements like that are rarely true. And before you get up on your high horse and scream “controversy!” while flooding my comment box with all the reasons I’m wrong, hear me out. If creativity is such a personal thing (which I’m actually not arguing, because it is), why would anyone share its products? All those artists, authors, and musicians that claim they only create for themselves are lying. The proof is in the sheer fact that they made said creation available for public consumption. If it was truly just for them, it would be stashed in a vault somewhere, guarded by large, vicious dogs, and fiercely protected until its location was lost in the afterlife. Not put on public display for all to judge. But that’s not the case, is it? Because they shared their work with the world.

(The only exception may be personal diaries and journals, which are never truly intended to be shared, but in reality, are almost always found and read anyway.)

When I’m asked this question of why I (insert creative verb here), I have a generalized, self-important, prosaic answer that I’ll give. (Who doesn’t want to earn some prestige points?) I simply say that the reason I (chosen creative verb of the moment) is that I never realized not (doing said creative verb) was an option. And this is partly true. Creativity just came naturally. Like breathing. But just like the answers I listed above, that lovely little sound-bite, while somewhat accurate, is not the real motivator behind my masterpieces. (See? Don’t I just automatically sound more brilliant because I called them that?)

The brutal, honest truth is something none of us “Artistes” like to admit, because it makes us seem desperate and needy, and those two adjectives are a far cry from cool and mysterious. We don’t want to be put in the same category as your psycho ex that Facebook stalks you. But the reason all those artists, authors, and musicians refuse to admit, is that we create because we want validation. Public approval. Fame, glory, and all that jazz. Just like when we were little kids and we ran to Mommy looking for approval on our latest blob of mismatched crayon wax we were certain looked like the cat, we offer up the fruits of our labor to the public eye. With the sole intent of being lavished in praise for our awesomeness.

When you think about it, it’s not really that hard to see why this is the real motivator behind creativity. It’s the same reason we post status updates several times a day and then check back obsessively, waiting for those little thumbs-up signs to appear that means someone likes us, someone agreed. We’re cool. It’s human nature to seek praise from those around us; it makes us feel good, worthwhile, valued. Does that mean all artists are shallow, attention-seeking ho-bags? No. Do we all secretly want to preen while you sing our praises and tell us how awesome we are, so we can humbly pretend we didn’t already know that? You betcha.

Ultimately, though, it’s receiving feedback of any kind (although preferably of the worship-my-brilliance variety) that motivates us to hit that upload button, to submit that manuscript, or to step out on that stage. It’s often said that creativity doesn’t happen in a vacuum. And I 100% agree. Without that input from others, your creative side will shrivel and die like a thirsty plant locked in a closet. Which is why, whenever someone answers with the angelically selfish response of , “I (whatever) for me,” I find myself annoyed. Why is it OK to feed your narcissistic ego by pretending that success means nothing to you and you don’t care what anyone else thinks, but not OK to admit the truth? You did it for the same reason I do –- to feel good when others tell you your creation is something wonderful.

And for those out there that feel this question, this “Why do you . . . (insert creative verb here)?” is a perfectly legitimate conversation starter, it’s really not. You’re just going to be lied to. Few of us will man up and admit, “I did it to be rich and famous. Duh.” You’re much better off asking questions that actually have quantifiable answers. Ask why we do things a certain way, or what did we mean with X, instead of something as innocuous as why do you create?

Hey, nobody said honesty always had to be pretty. And I did warn you that snarky rants were a definite possibility. But let the barrage of offended comments commence anyway. 😉

Elitism in the Arts

March 28, 2014KWhipkey 20 Comments

This is a post I’ve dreaded writing, because in order to do so, I have to relive some painful memories. But I feel like this is a message that needs to be said. And so, though it comes from a negative part of my life, I’ll try my best to keep it positive. First, some raw honesty:

Throughout my creative journey, I’ve tried many different branches. And I’ve felt like an outsider every time. The writing community has been welcoming, but recently, I realized that the literary one is a completely different beast, and that I will once again be facing down the enemy of being different. This isn’t a battle that’s new to me, though. In art, I was ostracized for being too commercial. In the Martial Arts, I wasn’t traditional enough. And in writing, I’m not literary, coming from a film background rather than one in English. But, you see, the problem isn’t me. Those are all things I’ve been told, things that have created scars I’ll never fully erase. They’re not the product of a lack of ability, or talent. No, they’re the product of a phenomenon that should never exist — elitism.

People hold the arts up as this ideal place for individuality, where you’ll be free to express yourself without fear of judgement and prejudice. But those people are wrong. Rooted in subjectivity, the arts are actually worse than other industries. Instead of embracing the different, the weird, the innovative, they shun it, viciously tearing down anyone who dares to try something new, or becomes too popular. And who can blame them? People who do things differently risk the status quo. And we can’t have that. (Even though that’s the motto flying on our brilliantly-colored flag of creativity.)

Humans are pack animals, no matter what we’re led to believe. And nowhere do you see that penchant for cliques more prominent than in the arts.

I came face to face with it for the first time in college. (Now, you should know that I went to college at the ripe age of 16, so I was still highly impressionable.) There I was, testing my wings for the first time in what I thought was a safe environment to do so. College is all about experimenting, right? Finding one’s self, and blah blah blah. Well, I had the good fortune to find a college professor whose close-minded bullying nearly had me hanging up my pencils for good.

I don’t know the story behind what was happening in that woman’s life, but that also shouldn’t matter. She was an educator, someone entrusted to help mold the minds of our youth. And she abused that power. I was stuck with her for three classes that semester — color theory, figure drawing, and beginning painting. Things started off great. I’d never been exposed to formal art classes, so I was a sponge, putting my best into every assignment. (I’m also a perfectionist with a compulsive need to get A’s, so you can connect the dots on my level of participation.) She seemed to like me, and I did well in all three classes. Until one day, about halfway through the semester, when she asked me the fated question I would learn never to answer honestly — what kind of artist do you want to be? Stupid me, I told her the truth:

“I want to be an animator,” I said, not realizing that word was akin to the most vulgar thing in the dictionary.

She looked like I’d spat in her drink. She backed away from me, a completely disgusted look on her face, mumbled something snide and walked away. After that, my grades plummeted, she wouldn’t call on me during class, and it was like I didn’t exist. But the kicker was the final project for the painting class. The assignment was to create an abstract painting that had no clear top or bottom. I’d never done abstract before, but I did my best, following the assignment to the letter.

Like all teenagers, I was battling some emotional instability, so I tried to capture that turmoil in paint. Doesn’t get more “tortured artist” than that, right? Well, when it came time for the final critique, this woman took my painting to the front of the class, turned it on its side and said, “Oh my God, where’s Bambi?” (Yes, that’s a direct quote.) I’ve never seen a room full of young people so silent. I swear, they all stopped breathing, staring at me with wide eyes as this teacher continued to ridicule me in front of them all, informing me I had failed because clearly, I had portrayed a forest fire.

I left that class in tears, dropped out of school and gave up on art for the next five years. All because I’d made the mistake of uttering the “A” word.

That’s not the only time I’ve run into that kind of elitist attitude either. Over the years, I’ve been accused of plagiarism (because I happened to write a sci-fi story that featured a weapon mildly resembling a light saber), told I wasn’t good enough to amount to anything, and been patronized because I don’t do things by the majority norm. And I know I’m not alone. These kinds of experiences are par for the course in the arts.

You want to be a singer? Too bad, you suck.

You want to paint? Well, you’re not Van Gogh, so you may as well give up.

You want to be published? Every door will be slammed in your face.

Overcoming adversity is the very definition of being an artist. But it doesn’t have to be that way. So what if someone wants to play the violin with their toes. Or paints murals on street signs. Or writes something a little rough around the edges. It doesn’t make them any less of an artist. The different creative communities claim to be so welcoming and open-minded, but instead, offer only elitism and rejection. If you’re not the alpha of the pack, then you’re the scapegoat. Or worse, lost somewhere in the middle, amongst a sea of sheep.

What’s the point to all this? Simple — don’t let yourself fall prey to elitism. Words have power, whether they be said in jest or seriousness. And that power lasts. To those of us in a position of authority (agents, editors, publishers, teachers, etc.) I implore you to think about what your rejections do to the people who receive them. So it wasn’t your cup of tea. That’s fine, but be nice about it. There must be something good you can give them, some piece of encouragement and/or advice. There’s no reason to get up on a high horse and strip them of their dignity. It’s our job to be the mentors, to help people achieve their creative dreams. Falling into the pack mentality is easy to do, but if we all try a little harder to remember our humanity, and not our need to feel important, we can eliminate experiences like those I went through.

And for those of you who have suffered, or are suffering, under the sword of elitism, keep your head up. Just because one person says you can’t, does not mean you can’t. It took me a long time to get over what that painting teacher said, and I would have destroyed the piece if my mom hadn’t saved it. But I’m glad she did, because I no longer see the emotional turmoil it represented. I see a fire-breathing dragon. It’s a reminder of what I’ve overcome, and that it’s okay to fight for your dreams. So remember, as the great Eleanor Roosevelt said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” We all have a choice. We can become victims, or we can become dragons. I chose to be a dragon, to fight back against elitism and approach my creativity with strength and resolution. Which will you be?

Abstract Painting

Untitled

by Kisa Whipkey

The Writing Process Blog Hop: Take Two

March 21, 2014KWhipkey 10 Comments

Before you start, yes, I know I’ve already written a post about this. But Jon over at Jumping From Cliffs (you should totally check him out! His posts are full of dry wit and helpful advice) tagged me again, this time as a writer. What do I mean, “this time”? Well, if you recall, the last post was morphed slightly to impart my views on the process as an editor. Not necessarily my views as a writer. But, contrary to how it may seem, I am actually still a writer. Editing may have taken over my life, and I may often feel like I’m trying to bail out my sinking schedule with a spoon, but that doesn’t mean I’ve given up on my writing. In fact, quite the contrary.

So Jon has graciously given me a second chance to participate in the blog hop, not as freelance editor extraordinaire, or even Editorial Director for REUTS Publications, but as just little old me, the author.

How does it work? It’s really quite simple: I answer the following four questions and then send you off to read about some truly amazing folks. And trust me, the four I’ve chosen each have something unique to offer that you won’t want to miss.

But first, the questions:

1) What are you working on?

I already spoke about Unmoving in that previous post. So, rather than repeat myself, I’ll talk about the series it’s part of as a whole. (If you want to find out more about Unmoving specifically, simply click here.)

Unmoving is the first in a long urban fantasy series (I think I’m up to about 15 plot bunnies) that I’ve dubbed The Synchronicity Series. For those unfamiliar with the term, “synchronicity” is a psychological theory developed by Carl Jung. In it’s simplest definition, it means you find meaning and connection between two seemingly unrelated events. This concept is the foundation of the series, making its presence in the series name an obvious, yet essential, choice.

Each book technically stands alone. Unlike other series, there’s no common character, or place, or even theme linking them all together. How is that a series? Hold on, you’ll see. Instead of the usual conventions that link a book to its sequels, I use the principle of synchronicity. Each book contains at least one Easter egg, what I’ve been calling a jump-off point, a place where the various plots in the series momentarily intersect. It could be a brief encounter on the street, a phone conversation someone overhears, or even something seen along the road, but somewhere in each book, you’ll meet the main character of the next one. The characters all lead completely separate lives, so to each, the jump-off point is an irrelevant, unrelated event in the grander plot of their story (one you’ll get to see from both sides), but to the reader, it has meaning. If you’re willing to look for it.

2) How does your work differ from others in the genre?

Aside from what I just outlined? Hmm, that’s a hard one.

I suppose I would say that my work tends to be very multilayered and complex. It’s never just one genre. I tend to pull from several — fantasy, horror, thriller, mystery, etc. — to make one strange and twisted blend. Then I’ll infuse that with another layer of psychological torture and a dash of cinematography. I’ve always said that I don’t write like a writer. I write like a film director. So I think, (well, hope) there’s a definite cinematic feel to my generally somber stories.

But even though my work is classified as dark, there’s always a ray of hope laced through it. And there’s always a message buried somewhere. Nothing pretentious or preachy, just something subtle that I hope readers will pick up on and that will give them pause to think.

Does that qualify as different? You tell me. 😉

3) Why do you write what you write?

Honestly? Because I don’t know how to write anything else. As a reader, my tastes are as varied as they come. But when it comes to writing, only one thing comes out — dark fantasy. Fantasy has always been my go-to genre of choice, and until recently, it was more of the high/dark fantasy variety. I never expected to branch off into urban or paranormal. So maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe I’m not as rigidly defined as I think. I do suspect that I’ll always stay somewhere within the speculative fiction genres though, as trying to create a contemporary novel literally boggles my mind. I truly don’t understand how its done, how you create tension and conflict without the aid of something supernatural. (The fascinating part is that I totally get it when it comes to editing. It’s only my writer half that’s completely baffled by it.)

Maybe that makes me a little dense as a writer, but I choose to think of it as self-knowledge. I know exactly what I’m meant to write, so why bother trying to force something different?

4) How does your writing process work?

I actually wrote an overly detailed version of this about a year and a half ago: How Does She Come Up With This Stuff?

But the short answer, for those that don’t want to sludge through that previous post, is music. I have a very strong connection with music (as most writers do) and literally everything I do creatively stems from it. The core story idea directly correlates to the song that inspired it, although I seem to have a distinct gift for taking even the happiest, sweetest songs and making them dark and twisted. (Unmoving being the prime example. It was inspired The Script’s “The Man Who Can’t Be Moved”.)

I’m not a big outline person, though I do tend to write very linearly. So once I have an idea, I only create the bare minimum in terms of a road-map. I’ll block in the scenes on a spreadsheet, with only a few words to summarize the goal. This allows the writing to remain very organic, while still progressing steadily toward the final point of the tale. Technically, I suppose I fall somewhere between a pantser and a plotter, since I like to have a sense of direction, but also like to be surprised by the details that appear as I’m writing.

That concludes my portion of today’s program. Now, I get to introduce you to four of my favorite people:

Priya Kanaparti: Author of Dracian Legacy, Priya is a ray of sunshine. Seriously. There’s something about her voice that feels warm and happy, even when she’s writing the most heart-wrenching scenes. Her enthusiasm for life is infectious, and she’s probably one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet. She’s also extremely determined and focused. Her regimented writing schedule leaves me in awe. I’m sure she’s got a few tips and tricks we could all benefit from, so be sure to check out her writing process in the next few days!

Drew Hayes: Drew is one of the funniest people I know. His posts are full of sarcasm and brilliantly wicked analogies that have me laughing out loud on a regular basis. Author of several self-published works, including a serial web novel, and the upcoming The Utterly Uninteresting and Unadventurous Tales of Fred, The Vampire Accountant, Drew has experienced all the various forms of publication. His latest experiment — live-writing a novel during the month of April — is one you definitely won’t want to miss!

Cait Spivey: Fellow editor, and newest member of the REUTS Publications family, Cait has plenty of insight to offer. Author of the serial short story I See the Web, as well as several NA novels, she also bridges the fence between writing and editing. Her blog features a lot of helpful articles on writing and publishing, and I highly recommend it. She shares a lot of the same viewpoints I do, so if you enjoy Nightwolf’s Corner, you’ll find a lot to love in Cait’s work too. 😉

Summer Wier: Summer is one of the most genuine, supportive people I’ve ever met. She’s also a brilliantly gifted writer. Her debut YA novel is currently making the querying rounds, but she’ll have three short stories in the REUTS Publications anthology of retold fairy tales releasing this fall. Her posts range from book reviews to personal experiences in the writing world, but the one thing contained throughout is her signature wit and humble honesty. So definitely show her the love she gives to the writing community and check her out!

And, of course, be sure to stop by Jumping from Cliffs. Jon has been one of my favorite bloggers for a long time now, and his quick wit never disappoints.

Andrew Toynbee is another person I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know, as we (along with Jon) started blogging around the same time. He, too, is participating in the blog hop, and his post is nothing short of epic. So if you’re looking for even more writer awesomeness, be sure to check it out!

Next week, I’ll have something insightful and snarky for your reading pleasure. What that will be? I don’t know yet. So if you have a request, now’s a great time to let me know. 😉 Until then, happy reading!