Refinding the Joy

Ola, ola my pretty blog buddies! Ignore the dates between this post and the last. I know, I know, some months has past. I've been drowning in publishing deadlines and non writing work life.

What can I say? Nothing, so like I suggested, don't look at the dates between this and the last post.

Last  week I submitted the completed manuscript for my 11th novel to my wonderful publishing house. 11th as in 1-1. 1X11. 11.

In 2009 I was hoping to at least publish 1 novel in my lifetime. It was a bucket list item. After that first novel, Duty and Devotion, released I sat back and asked myself, "Now what?"

That was 10 books ago and I never looked back. I lost my way a bit, getting caught up in the need to constantly publish and have something in the pipeline. I still loved my books but I didn't get the absolute freedom and joy from the writing as I did creating those first few. My work was on the verge of becoming just business.

I needed a break, and that was Time's Weave. (That's the manuscript I just submitted.) I wasn't tied into a series or universe. The slate was clean and I only need to let the creative well decide the direction.

And Hannah Saxton is what floated to the surface. An older galactic archeologist in her 50s who was working through the grief of losing her husband. The story covers the science of time bending travel and the speculative concepts of after life and reincarnation.

It was a little too easy to write, which was scary, until I started on the revision and editing and was reminded the double-edged sword of a freed creative thought. The story's first draft was almost 120K. Revision and editing brought that down to a manageable and tight 96K story.

I'm so excited about this book. I can't wait to face the editing. I can't wait to see the cover. And most importantly, I can't wait to share it with you all!

Bring on the AI

I'm currently working on my new project... uh, okay, that's a pretty formal opening for you all.

Anywho. Traditionally, when I'm writing about a vessel cruising through space in the future, I've held to the whole pilot, co-pilot, navigator, etc model.

Recently I was perusing Popular Science and caught an article about AI coming to the fighter planes near you. Well, not you you. Unless you're a fighter pilot, then it's you you. Oh, hell, you know what I mean.

These AI copilots will assist with positioning, navigation, timing, and automated communications. They will even land the things on aircraft carriers, kind of like today's auto-parking vehicles.

I don't know why I didn't think of this advancement before. I'll admit, my crystal globe does lean towards future healthcare advancements. Blame my day gig for the oversight.

This helps me streamline my character story, because it's heavy in the non-vessel characters but I originally still needed the bodies and didn't just want them to be plastic behind-the-scene people ("no name people" or Red Shirts as we often slate them).

The only question I have to figure out now is if I want the AI to have a personality. I'm kind of wanting to. It'll lean more KITT, not HAL if I do.

The whole AI integration into our society really is intriguing. It's not happening in a blatant way like the Robot Foundation series, but in smaller ways that are slowing leaking into our society in rudimentary ways. It's more AI DOS, but with the capability to then slowly advance in intelligence and intent as adoption and reliance increases.

It's exciting to watch... as long as I'm dead if and when the switch is ticked when AI wants to rule the planet or galaxy, whichever point we've reached by then.

I see the benefit of some AI in our society, but I'll admit, I do worry a little. It's like when they start putting calculators in school. Yes, it freed our brain to learn more advanced mathematics... but how many of us rely on calculators now for the most basic mathematics? And how much advanced mathematics do we even use in everyday life. Engineers, physicists and whatnot excluded from this question.

Lost art of conversation, or just eye contact?

How could the great sc-fi writers of the 60s and 70s (and even the 80s) have known how prevalant cell phone and social networking would become? They sorely underestimated the digital age, that's for sure...

Okay, wait, let's not go into an indirect, fact heavy commentary about this. Let me explain my thoughts with a story.

"Welcome to Story Time, with your host, AR Norris."

A friend and I stood in line at Starbucks, waiting to order our coffee. While we talked my eyes did a cursory scan of the room, and saw a sea of scalps. Blonde, red, burgundy, brunette... heck even one a medium shade of green.

People in line or waiting for their drink orders, groups at tables, couples at the cooshy chairs. Almost everyone had eyes to screen. I pointed this out to my friend and we began "the discussion" about how cellphones and social networking have ruined society.

Yet, as we nagged the topic to death, two teenagers waiting for their drinks caught my attention. One giggled and the other elbow jabbed in return. Watching them, I had a moment of clarity (of sorts).

They both leaned against the counter facing out away from each other. Both of their heads were bent down over their cellphones and fingers typed furiously. But they didn't type at the same time. One would type. The other would laugh, chuckle or smile then type. The first would then facially and/or physically respond before typing. They didn't once look, or share these reactions or expressions with each other.

They were having a conversation same as my friend and I, but nonverbally and without eye contact. My friend reached the order counter and I took another, closer, scan of the room with my new eyes. 

The couple sat doing something similar as the teenagers but by their occasional hot glances and gooey grins it was a more romantic conversation. The group of friends at the table were doing a more complex version and occasionally sharing their screen with the person beside or across from them.

Maybe cell phone and social networking isn't killing our ability to be socially connected, but rather killing the art of face-to-face dialogue.

The digital age may be transforming the way we communicate with each other, not ending it.

Now, I don't know what this means for the future of humanity. It is too early to tell and too new a change to judge in my book.

I do know that we're reaching a tipping point where we'll either continue down this path towards a less direct mode of human interaction, or future generations will turn away and seek the more direct form of human connection.

We've seen both happen to various cultural and social precedants. One example is the children from the 80s and 90s who grew up in the work, work, work, era... becoming the "Latch Key Kids". They felt it, and the absence of family and values behind it. Because of this, as they've grown they've leaned back towards the quality of life over the quantity of life.

With this, though, our technical gadgets continue to change our everyday lives. We haven't pushed back yet. I think it's because it's still too early in the evolution. We haven't hit that proverbial fork in the road.

The scary part for me, who grew up in the pre cell phone/social networking era, is... what will the world at the fork in the road look like?

Just a thought (or two)

I was reading an article this morning about what makes -- or doesn't make -- someone a writer. I love these articles for the most part because it's like a moment of "Writers Unite!"

It was well written and the points were spot on to the traditional stereotypes of a writer from a writer's perspective. I laughed and snorted as the weaknesses and strengths were called out.

Yet, by the time I'd finished I felt oddly disturbed. I couldn't pinpoint it other than this general feeling of shame and discouragement. The feeling was so profound, I was almost embarrased someone would find out I'd read it.

The root cause didn't become clear until I read a post on Facebook later in the morning. A long time friend of mine was calling out a journalist who was basically skinny shaming some music artist for needing a size 0000 or something or another. My friend pretty much summed it up as ridiculous that no matter what body size or type you are, there's going to be individuals out there who will try to shame you into feeling bad about who and/or what you are...

And then it hit me.

This article about writers I'd read earlier in the morning was a shaming of sorts. It basically stated that if you didn't fit these "prestigous" characteristics, you weren't a "real" writer (whatever that means).

Since I hadn't made the cut in their eyes, I believe on the characteristic about not liking a certain part of the writing process, I somehow wasn't a real writer.

I call bullshit. (Sorry to my profanity shy friends.)

So what if a writer thinks about writing more than they actually write? Or they truly hate the editing phase but still do it because it's important to the writing process?

How does that make them any less of a writer? Yes, they probably won't ever earn a full living off it, but who cares? Is that all that writing is about? (No, not in my opinion at least.)

If they get the same amount of joy from the idea and their little bit of writing as those who spend every free moment putting finger to key board, or pen to paper, then that is still an added joy and value to their life.

When did we as the writing community become the judge on quality and value in someone else's life?

It was a slap in the face. It felt the same to me as if somehow the weekend painter was suddenly stripped of their artist title just because they weren't painting 40 or 50 hours a week or earning a living off of it.

Can't we just enjoy the community of writers, where no matter your style, dedication or ambition we all enjoy writing on some level or another?

New love affair

*Sigh* I'm beginning a new love affair. It's so beautiful and perfect and shiny.

There's no arguments or maddening formatting, structure, or fact to get in the way of my creative juice. There's no tantrums from the characters.

No, no, my characters are whispering and passing mental notes to me, urging me to outline and create their universe. They're excited to jump in and follow my outline and promise to behave "the whole time".

I know, I know. It won't last. My antagonist already has a diva glint in her eye. My antagonist has chosen a profession I know little to nothing about other than what I've seen in the Indiana Jones movies. That alone will grow into a bitch of a research/detail editing process as Indiana, thought a badass by right, is not really good at his job.

But for now, yes, for now I'm in bliss. I'm in writing heaven and enjoying every wonderful, enjoyable moment.

Catching Up - Branching Out

It appears that my blog has become my intermittent journal more than a vehicle of something or another.

At first I was distressed by this, but I've decided to roll with it. We all need things from different aspects of our lives and "it is what it is," as they say. One day this blog will again become more of a proactive writing and science blog but today is not that day. No, today is another journal day.

*Cracks knuckles* (mentally because I hate to in real life)

With IIA #3 Case of the Brotherhood released and the final draft of IIA #4 Case of the Rebellion Army completed, I have three months to polish it to perfection. I was going to dive right in with the polisher, editor checklist and a thesaurus, but thought, "Hey, I have 3 months. Let's have it sit and percolate a couple weeks."

I'm picking at it. A chapter or 2 here, a chapter or 2 there but mostly I'm reading. Not just books, but my beloved science sites, SF sites, and writing sites. The story I slated for myself after Rebellion Army disintegrated, replaced by an idea that's been sitting with me for years.

I've wanted to tackle it, but there never seemed to be enough time. It's going to require a lot of research to lay it out correctly. And with deadlines, contracts, and tight timelines, whose had that kind of time in recent years?

Well, now I have that time. Want to hear about it? Of course you do, why else would you be reading this?

The character is a galactic archaeologist or anthropologist - haven't decided yet - contracted with the government. She lost her husband a couple years previous and is on the tail end of putting her emotions and heart back together. She's called to a case on the outer reaches of the galaxy, to assess a mysterious site unearthed by a terraforming expedition.

There's still a lot to flesh and mold, but that's the main blob of the idea. It's kind of like clay. You smack a clump of it on a pottery wheel and start the spinner. Then you slowly and carefully shape it into something beautiful.

Well, Will Robinson, that's my entry for today from the inner reaches of A.R.'s mind. Out like trout for now.

Old Friends

This last week has been nice. I stepped back from my editing a bit and really focused on reading. Reading, reading, reading. I read a brand new book, and hated it so much I didn't even finish it. You all know how rare that is for me. So at that point I turned to a few old friends.

It was exactly what I needed.

1984 and then all three books in the Shadow Chronicles. I read 1984 from my Kindle, which seemed fitting. It was great reading a story that focused a majority of the story on the main character's internal thoughts and reflections. After the last click of that, I ran my hands along my book shelves feeling and looking for inspiration.

It came when my finger rubbed against the rough, well worn spine of Shadow Moon. That led me along Elora's journey spanning through Shadow Dawn and ending at the last page of Shadow Star. These 3 books are some of my long standing books that I've carried with me, chosen over many other precious items during one of our many,  many moves in our unstable past.

Now I'm recharged, inspired to write something that may one day cause the same reaction as mine to my favorite works. My characters now have an understanding of my expectations of them. They're lofty, high standards. Hopefully we can live up to them.

Up for Air

Wow, that is all I can say.

It's writing like this current WIP that draws the passion of the craft out in me. I don't know what it was, but I was very thankful for it. With the last torturous book I started to worry that the joy of writing might be dwindling.

Glad to know that wasn't the case.

This new story in the Interstellar Intelligence Agency series has been a blast. The storyline line has kept me intrigued. The characters have behaved themselves (for the most part). And the subplots fit like a perfect puzzle to the main story arch.

It's almost scary. It's almost scary on many levels.

(Yes, I had to repeat that sentence for writerly effect... just go with it.)

Let me explain The story almost going too well, which, hello, means a great fall potentially down the road. Then, on a whole other level, after this manuscript is submitted I will for the first time in many years be without a contract.

Since 2010 I've been working from deadline to deadline. I've had the vision of the books I've wanted to do lined up in a nice little order to hit one by one. This latest book will be my 10th publication in 4 years.

4 Years!

I know there are many authors out there who just "pfft'd", but for me that's a lot. That's 2-3 books a year. That's a lot of friggin characters filtering in and out of my head in a short timespan.

Yes, I have a whole folder of brainstorming ideas. And yes, I have the next story in mind.

However, this story is a little (okay lot) outside of the box of my genre. I'm going to go further into the speculative fiction realm than I ever imagined I would. I'm ready to stretch my comfort zone a bit, which will take more time than usual.

Taking Time Travel by the Paradoxes

I normally don't do book reviews on my blog because... well... hello, I'm an author here and it seems like kind of a conflict of interest.

Saying that, we all know I'm about to break that pesky rule because I just had to. Why? Well, I'm bubbling with the need to 1) break a rule, and 2) talk about this book.

The book is "Man in the Empty Suit" by Sean Ferrell.

Usually I get completely aggravated with time travel stories (and movies) because they never address the conflicts in the act of travelling through time. It's one of the reasons I've never attempted to write a time travel book either. If the professionals can't figure it out, how the hell am I ever going to?

Ferrell, however, took the conundrum of time travel, embraced it with a big "F you", and went with the chaos time travel wreaks in the mind of those who think about it.

I loved how the character's regard for the rules he'd set slowly disintegrated as the story unfolds, culminating in -- oh, never mind, you'll have to read it. (And it is fantastic!) I'll tell you one thing though... this book was written with the details of the concept complexities in mind.

Oh! Oh! And the main character!

The main character is human in every sense of the word. Not the stereotypical hero with the mission and justice always in his thoughts and actions. No, his character is humanly inconsistent. His morals and judgement wavered depending on who or what it is involved. I know I'm more forgiving when it comes to friends and people I care about than I am towards a complete stranger. And you see that characteristic in this character often... sometimes with himself. (You'll get it when you read it.)

As a writer I don't know HOW he wrote this book. The depth of chaos and timing get all wrapped up, twisted, and twirled. I, as the reader, barely kept up with the progression of the story. I can't imagine having to have outlined it.

Very impressed by the skill and technique used to complete this book, which is really why I felt compelled to post my thoughts here on my blog. Reading books like this get me jazzed about the art and technical skills of writing.

So there's my thoughts on "Man in the Empty Suit". If you're going to read it, just make sure you have enough time because you're not going to want to put it down.

A daughter's journey

A bond between parent and child can be joyous, contentious, challenging, and rewarding all at once. Life with a teenage daughter is oftentimes all four of those things on crack. There is nothing easy about it. At the same time there is nothing you desire to succeed at more.

My daughter and I are close. However, it pales in comparison to the bond my daughter has with her father. In her eyes he is what has, is, and will forever define her world. He is to her the definition of strength, love, loyalty and safety.

When she talks about being old enough to find the love of her life, she describe her father. His strength of character, his loyalty to family and friends, his strength in trials and tribulation and above all the sense of safety and acceptance he always gives his children. (Even when he doesn't understand them at all.)

It doesn't help that my daughter and her father are so similar in personalities it's uber wonky.

It's in part because their relationship that Lilly's Journey came to be in my mind. I wanted to celebrate that connection.

The guidance Lilly's seeks from her father's lessons are invaluable to her along the wild journey she embarks on.

AMAZON: http://www.amazon.com/Lillys-Journey-R-Norris-ebook/dp/B00GD3260A/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1383757457&sr=1-1

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lillys-journey-ar-norris/1117303832?ean=2940149012947

I really hate you...

No, no, not you. Sorry, that came out all kinds of wrong. I was talking to the characters in my head.

It's a love/hate thing and right now I'm in the hating kind of mood.

"You don't hate anyone or thing, AR... you just really, really dislike them/it."

Eh, no, I'm going with hate today.

This is by far the hardest story I've written. I don't know what it is. I've been struggling with it more than any other story. I go through periods of, "Yes! I got this shit!" to, "What the f is happening right now?"

Of course, it could be like the birthing phenomenon. You know, chemicals are released throughout the body that sets in a kind of physical and emotional amnesia at the true level of pain you felt during labor. Maybe it's like that. My brain (or characters) release a chemical in my head after each manuscript is done that makes me forget the struggles of each story.

Yeah, yeah, that's it. Has to be.

Okay, enough whining. I'm off to battle through my story, because I refuse to let writing barriers force me into giving up. The story is in there and I will get it on paper... even if I have to rip the brain bits out by hand and splat them on the damn screen.

Wow... Just wow

Sorry all, but Mommy Duties have dominated my week, happily. My eldest is heading off to the Marines Sunday and my daughter is turning 17 today. Hence, there was a lot of shit to do. 

Planning, crying, buying, crying, packing, crying...you know how it goes.

Today I'm revisiting my outline for Brotherhood and going to sit in the quiet of the house, since the kids are all asleep, to write a little. Normally I would be sipping coffee, nibbling walnut banana bread and writing at Starbucks but I feel the need to hang nearer to home.

Pfft, I wonder why? My first born is only leaving home for the first time, heading to boot camp, and then becoming a defender of our country... 

Tall strapping MMC... or just strapping MMC?

When writing the future, I often reflect on the past to help me create my "world".

Take, for example, the simple decision of how tall to make your characters. Most writers just choose what attracts them most. "The tall, strapping man glided in on his space bike to flash his dazzling, perfect smile at the tall, willowy ladies through the space port viewer."

But, who's to say that it's realistic? Health and physical stature is environmentally dependent.

Let's continue with the height thing. Height is a global indicator of environmental health. Men during the early Middle Ages were almost as tall as modern man today. Basically, people living 1 to 2 thousand years ago had it as good as us climate and social economic- wise.

Trippy... I know, right? They were in a warm period like we are today. They had room to both grow plenty of crops and keep away from other people's germs. Plus, they didn't have the social networking to deal with so they may have been happier, since FB studies have shown people are less satisfied with their lives after a FB session.

It is believed a "perfect storm" of social and climate factors hit when people began losing inches. These factors included the mini ice age, the increased trend of trading routes and the growth of towns into full-blown cities. Due to close proximity of this new urbanization, communal disease flourished and agricultural production -- which was already declining due to the colder weather -- was overtaxed.

We went from an average of 68.27 inches to down to an average of 65.75 inches by the end of 18^th century.

It was only during the 19^th century that height started to really return. The war had decreased the population pressures in many cities (cold, I know, but a fact just the same) and health care advancements and environmentally conscious thinking has helped to recover the stature of humans, which again, is a sign of a healthy world.

So, in writing what do we take away from this? Well, when world-building I always think through what kind of world/setting are the characters both in and from. Are they from a heavy industrial society or from an agriculturally driven world? Are they rich or poor (which can make up a difference of 1-3 inches against the average)? Are they from a city/crowded space port or a rural area? If from a city/space port, how is the health care in that society?

What factors do you all look at when designing your "people" in stories?

The Writing River

Today, writing was like a river. A winding, damned up river.

It was humiliating to admit that dream last week threw my writing mojo off. Here I thought I'd evolved into a "mature writing business woman".

Blagh! So much for that.

After emotionally recovering from the dream like the baby I am, I'd lost the writing rhythm. Both blog writing and book writing. It was hard to even get my ass to the Saturday Starbucks writing session!

I resented myself. Resented my story. Resented my characters.

I sat pouting at my screen, throwing a full blown mental tantrum.

"You're not leaving here until you at least write two scenes, you little brat," I told myself.

"No, I refuse."

"Fine, sit there staring at the screen like the idiot you are, then," I scolded.

 

"Whatever."

And I did, for a good twenty minutes, until I knew I was serious with myself.

"Fine, I'll write ONE scene you jerk."

"No, two, but you can start with one."

(I can be a smartass sometimes, even with myself.)

Four scenes later I sat pissed off because my keyboard's battery died and I couldn't continue.

Man, I'm such a know-it-all. And let me tell you, that disease only grows when I'm right. After huffing over the loss of keyboard power I sat calmer and more mentally focused than I had been since the dream.

I needed to get back on the fictional kayak, cruising the writing river. It really is odd sometimes how we fight ourselves and our nature. Even when we know something will be good for us we try to do what we think will be easier and less accountable to ourselves.

Well, I must scour the house for a battery so I can continue writing this evening. For now it's housecleaning and mommy time with the kids. (They should be awake by now.)

Terrible Dreams = Great Storylines

I'm going to tell this from the completely immersed POV.

Last night I feel asleep and woke up in a parallel dimension. I didn't immediately know this as it was my own bed in my own house next to my own husband. However, I learned quickly when he woke an nearly had a heart attack. Then, in answer to his loud voice of surprise, the kids came in equally shocked.

See... I'd died curing my 2011 craniotomy in this other dimension.

I spent the whole day with my kids and husband, learning their griefs and struggles. Seeing how much they love me. Something I don't think I allow myself to see in the everyday life of normality.  The joy in them was so pure and the sadness at what my death had put them through shred through me.

Then I went to sleep and woke in the middle of the universe, facing the Great Engineers. A supreme cohort of master planners whose job it was to create, manage and monitor the dimensions and all their universes within.

Basically their statement was a big fat, "Oops, our bad."

The dream state is the tricky period where folks can slip into other dimensions if not carefully monitored. It was then left to me to decide. Stay in my appropriate dimension, or stay in the dimension I awoke to. No chances to say good bye to either.

Just leave one to wake to a missing mother or leave one to relive the grief of losing their mother all over again.

What kind of decision is that? They are both my legitimate family. Then as horrible dreams go, I really woke up. And I cried. (I know, I know, totally sissy of me. Sorry.)

"That is a decision that no mother should face, even in a fictional setting," I thought to myself in the wee hours of this morning.

But, that is exactly the kind of decision a mother should face in a fictional setting. We have to torture our characters and push them to the limits that no real human should face, because that is what allows us to exam and confirm our definition of humanity.

So, now I sit here writing in Starbucks, stuck in the emotional turmoil of the experience. I haven't been this... I don't know quite how to explain it in words to truly convey my feelings to you all. Imagine that, a writer with no words. Some author I am.

Anywho, I'm signing off with one last conundrum of the over imaginative mind of AR... Was it really just a dream, or did it really happen in the fantastical world that is this amazing, mysterious existence?

Turtle Humans?

Genetic engineering techniques began in the 1960s. When I think of genetic engineering, I always imagine a mad scientist "sucking" DNA fluid out of a test patient, mixing it in a cylinder with all sorts of nefarious chemicals and animal DNA and then "squirting" it back into the test patient wherein the patient would convulse and change into a half wolf or duck or something... ooh, maybe a Human Turtle? (My TMNT fantasy come true?)

Reality, unfortunately, is more pragmatic than the mind of AR.

There are over a dozen techniques involved in genetic engineering of the some 70k genes in the human genome. And none involve animal/human hybrids of my mind (that's public anywho).

Now, as you all may or may not know, in my latest Interstellar Intelligence Agency the concept of genetic engineering has reached its pinnacle with "species terraforming" that allow humans to live and thrive throughout the galaxy. (And, yes, I know terraforming is the change if land, but it seemed appropriate enough in this setting to steal from.)

The latest story, Brotherhood, will delve further into the genetic engineering science, so as a responsible SF writer, I researched details of genetic engineering to get terms and usage right.

Genetic engineering techniques can be anything from simply delivering a gene into a living cell (Gene Transfer) to finding a certain gene in a genome (Shotgun) to creating a gene from scratch (Gene Synthesis).

The various techniques are combined for complex genetic engineering applications, such as insulin development, human growth hormone, cystic fibrosis and genetic disease therapy.

Of course there is the scary side of genetic engineering like germ-line therapy and bio warfare. And there is the gray area of human cloning and species altering for interplanetary expansion. But, it is within genetic engineering that illness and diseases, such as cancer and HIV, will find cures.

And the truth is humans have been "genetically altering" for thousands of years. The Native Americans changed corn where it is almost unrecognizable today from its beginning state. And horticulturists have created whole new plant species with their work in cross-species slicing and binding. We've even unknowingly changed our own species by mate selection and self-designed environments over the generations.

Genetic engineering is just a more in your face and finesse approach to the subtler, slower natural process.

Like nuclear technology, there is a fine line between the benefits and danger of genetic engineering, but I'm willing to take the leap... at least for now and with the hopes it won't be too late if it goes too far.

Refueling Creativity

Realization came as I sat there at the beach the second day of our family camping trip. The fog-laced wind blew slightly, cooling the heat basking my skin. I looked to the right and saw that fog pushing into the already cloudy-but-warm day.

The wave took one of my younger sons along with it as he held the boogie board for dear life. (How he could stand that cold Pacific water, I still have no clue.) The waves and he roared with the success of the joint venture when both hit the sandy shore.

My husband and youngest son stood a short distance away in companionable silence, fishing

poles in hand. (Even though my hubby was in extreme pain from a pinched nerve.)

My two eldest children were headed off towards the cave around the bay's bend. Well, children in the maternal sense. With the eldest being an adult now and heading off to the Marines in a few short weeks, it gets harder and harder to keep calling him a child.

This feeling of contentment washed over me. I know, I know. Totally cliche, but it's how it happened. (Which is probably why it became a cliche, right?) With that came this influx of renewed creativity. Anymore and I would've plumped up like that girl in Willie Wonka.

With that new creativity I realized I was churning a stale sub plot. A fresh idea smacked me as it danced in my mind. I saw my MFC in a depth I'd yet to see her. It saddened me. My MMC confessed how frightened he was of himself. I empathized in a way I'd not done before. I even felt for the killer. Actions aside, the reasons were pure and in line with their beliefs.

Sometimes your creative well is empty and you don't even know it. The car's out of gas and your still rolling down the hill, not knowing your engine's not running. Or you're moving your space vessel pilot joystick without realizing the system's reverted to autopilot.

Okay, okay... enough analogies, before I start puking them out.

I've been really into it. The writing thing, I mean. It's been freakin' fantastic. My creative juices have been heated up like a jacuzzi for Mental AR, the slight irritation of starting in the wrong place aside, of course. Though, even that was exhilarating in it's own perverse way. The fact I even had time to face a challenge such as that has been a long time coming.

My inspiration from renewed dedication to writing had been sucking my creative juices too fast. That jacuzzi had turned into a sauna without me knowing, and that sauna was out of water.

But, in that moment my sense of family and motherhood was renewed, my creativity was renewed as well.

Isn't it odd how that happens sometimes?

Enchanted Inspiration

What is sometimes the most inspiring in my writing, is reading other genres. Truth be told, if I hadn't harbored a love of Agatha Christie or James Patterson, the Interstellar Intelligence Agency Series would never have been born... okay, okay, Caves of Steel also had something to do with it.

Wait, now that we're discussing this, I think Caves of Steel peaked my interest in investigatory fiction like Agatha and James' works... Okay, now we're delving deep down the Hole of Distraction.

"Pull out of that dive, AR! Pull out of the dive!"

Reading other genres, like reading in general, provide insight to a writer. Like an anonymous forum. Author So and So published this work about This or That. I've always had an idea about This or That, but in my head it went There and then There. Author Other Man published this about Gidget Widgets... I didn't know Gidget Widgets did That. I wonder, if they did That, with this other villain archetype, maybe they could do This. Doing This could then lead to There.

Get my confusing drift? That's okay, I barely hung on there myself. All I'm saying is reading, and reading outside your writing genre, can be helpful.

For example, I've been interested in attempting a SF-inspired fairy tale retelling. I know, I know, there are works out there already in the SF community that re envision a fairy tale. But, I'm still interested anyways.

Partly because of this I think, I spotted "Midsummer Night" by Freda Warrington in my local bookstore (aka AR's Crack House).

It was beautifully told. Freda's descriptions are masterful and I'm impressed by her writing. She actually made me feel the mist of the evenings and the powerful energy of the sculptures. I ached for the main characters back story. And I felt tugged and enchanted by the locale as she did.

The book itself is an urban fantasy, I guess. (I've never been good a labeling, unless it's Agatha or James or Isaac.) In the story, she explores the fairy world. It's almost SFey in the way she explains how the fairy realm and human realm are interwoven dimensions with "doorways" to each other.

This story really revved my creative juices to forge ahead with a fairy tale story. I just need to really decide which one now. I want to try and find one that hasn't been retold at nausea in novels and movies. That excludes Red Riding Hood, Snow White, Beauty and the Beast, and Cinderella. I think I also want to take on the more grimmer Grimm telling of the story and push my grittier boundaries.

Brainstorming Thursday: Put a Flag in It

What else do you think I would write about on America's celebration of independence? I am uber American, after all. Any more patriotic and you'd find it tattooed on my... *clears throat*

Anywho.

There are over 190 nations in the world. Most are members of the United Nations. (There's some disagreement on the exact number, depending on the various list criteria and political agendas.) In each of those countries there is some form of "Independence Day" or patriotic founding celebration.

Patriotic holidays are important to solidify a society's cultural identity and growth.

But - and here enters the brainstorming - what about when we spread out to the stars and growing pains start?

First things first, how will the expansion start? (It lends to the brainstorm further down, promise.) I see a few ways it could go.

1. The United Nations (or other unity organization yet to be created) purpose expands and solidifies all the countries and forges into the stars as one human nation. This is very Star Trek-ish.
2. Private entrepreneurs and corporations will forge into the stars with the fiscal support of the strongest nations. These nations will then lay claim to the space they conquer. Much more Firefly-ish
3. Private entrepreneurs and corporations will forge into the stars with fiscal support of private and group investors and the government concept will become corporatism.

Eventually changes will be demanded after this first step into the solar system, either by the people or competing governments or corporations. The aftermath of this forced change will cause a new patriotic celebration created by the victors.

What will that look like? Most of the current patriotic celebrations involve a certain date, fireworks, gatherings, food, music and honorary speakers.

Hmm... most of those won't work in space. Okay, gatherings, food and music seem pretty workable. But how about the date? That'll be a problem in a civilization spread across the solar system. Fireworks. Okay, granted, that could work on open planetary settlements, but what about domed facilities, space colonies and life vessels? And honorary speakers. This hits the same issues as a date. The distance will make any live speaker broadcast difficult.

Sigh Factor to Start the Week

Okay, so for this post I'm going to put on my romance hat and try to keep my SF hat off. (Don't laugh at the heart bobbly on top of it. Remember, it could be the aluminum hat.)

Anywho. If you want the science behind kisses, you can check out the post I did HERE. What I want to focus on today is the emotions behind the kiss. And let's face it, the adrenaline rush you get not just when you give or receive a kiss but when you read or see one.

I know that when I read a good kissing scene, my heart races a little quicker and my face flushes in anticipation. The next thing I know, I can't wait until I see Hubby again to kiss him and feel the full force of that experience firsthand.

It may just be that geeky SF in me, but my fellow SFR authors have some pretty fantastic kissing scenes. Today I want to celebrate a couple of them. Warning, blushing may occur. Let's start with a good blogger buddy of mine, Allie Ritch. She puts the wow in wowser...

When she nipped his lower lip and played her fingertips over the rounded points of one ear, he groaned into her open mouth and took the kiss deeper.
Alien Sex 101 by Allie Ritch
Buy HERE
Website/Blog: http://allieritch.wordpress.com

Oy... okay... phew! Let's paused from Allie a sec and hop over to Jaine Fenn's Guardian of Paradise:

The kiss ended, and it was like the world ending.
Guardians of Paradise by Jaine Fenn
Buy HERE

Now that tapped at the soft gooey sigh I get with Pride and Prejudice. Very lovely, Jaine, very lovely. Now, to keep this emotional roller coaster going, I'm hopping back to Allie for another hot hit of sizzle. (Kids, turn your eyes.)

Crushing her to him, he took her mouth and demanded entry. He let his hands roam wildly over her body, but he was very deliberate with the stroke of his tongue.
Mating Season by Allie Ritch
Buy HERE

Geez, LOL, that borders on what I put on the blog here. Wonderfully heated and passionate. We gotta go cool things a bit again. Let's go to one of my stories with a sweet kiss.

He brushed her lips with his. Heat flushed along her neck and her heartbeat quickened. 
Revelations of Tomorrow by yours truly, A. R. Norris
Buy HERE

Okay, now, I wasn't sure whether to end this with heat or sweet... oh, who am I kidding? Flame it up, baby!

The kiss burned its way through her body, whispering in tongues of flame, telling her everything.
Keir by Pippa Jay
Buy HERE

Well, there's nothing much else to say to you all other than... you're welcome and Happy Monday. ;)