So Much to Blog About, So Little Time

I'm going to put today's flash fiction in its own post because I have a lot to talk about (because I'm a lazy blogger who didn't want to take the time to write any posts this week). So, first, an update on Rosetta. Well, to start, it's not called Rosetta anymore. It's now the untitled first book of the Capitoline Hill Chronicles. Which means I'm going to have to go back and change all my blogpost labels to match. x_x

Why the name change? Well, "rosetta" is a word with a lot of meaning and some symbolism... none of which related in any way to the book I wrote. Capitoline Hill is one of the seven hills of Rome (and if someone who knows Italian could tell me how to correctly pronounce that), and the myth is that Romulus built a fortress on it that would serve as a sanctuary for the Romans if the city was ever attacked. This seems much more like something that werewolves would name their compound.

Also, I'm done with my second draft! I'm not sure exactly what happened last Friday, but once I finally committed to working on it, I edited ~260 pages from Friday to Wednesday. I didn't do any of the nitty-gritty edits so there's still a lot left to do, but I think the book's actually in the order I want now, and I hopefully fixed most--if not all--of my continuity issues. I'm getting to the point where I'm almost ready to possibly be proud of certain part of it. I actually made myself cry a little while I was working on it... and it wasn't because the chapter sucked!

Next bit of awesome news: I'm being featured on a blog today! I was one of the winners for this month's Knights of Microfiction (along with Stephanie at Word by Word), so Kathy at Imagine Today interviewed me and featured me on her blog. Go check out my thoughts on life (writing), liberty (television), and the pursuit of happiness (Vanilla Coke).

Also, yesterday kicked off the triannual YA Scavenger Hunt. There are 60 authors giving away cool prizes, so you should definitely head over and check it out. I did the YELLOW team puzzle yesterday, and I think I'm going to work on RED next. They're fun, and a great opportunity to check out some YA authors with whom you might not be familiar.

Also also, you should go check out Kindles for Kids if you haven't already. It's for a great cause, and you can submit a short story or enter a contest to win some awesome prizes.

Who's excited about the Blogging from A-Z Challenge? This is my first year entering, so I'm pretty psyched, even if I've only come up with, like, seven of my topics.

I... think that's it. For now. Stay tuned for my Flash Fiction Friday update later (you know, after I write it).

Knights of Microfiction and Teaser Tuesday - 3/27/12

It's the last Monday Tuesday of the month, which means it's time for a Knights of Microfiction prompt. This month's was:

In 250 words or less:
Use at least one of the following adjectives: delicate, repulsive, hostile
And at least one of the following nouns: New York City, My 16th Birthday (yes, this would be referring to you), and Kilts
For the words you don't use (unless you use them all), you can just use them as inspiration.

I'm not normally a dystopian writer, but apparently when I think of NYC, I think of the apocalypse. So here's what I came up with:

They said that by the time the survivors came to, New York City had crumbled. The greatest city in the world, and now it was nothing more than piles of rubble and smoldering remains, its population all but wiped out.

There were perhaps three hundred people left in the city, maybe a couple million in the world. There was no way to know for sure since all lines of communication were down. Ari wished she knew whether her family in Ohio was okay.

She’d made friends quickly. Allies, she supposed, since they weren’t likely to be meeting for drinks or chatting about boys any time soon. But they found food and water and shelter together, and they shared everything they had.

Puppet had survived, but she wasn’t sure how long a Goldendoodle puppy would last in this strange new world. He ate their scraps and whined pitifully when she had nothing else to give him. She knew the others were wondering if they’d be better off without him.

They were living a delicate balance now, surviving while trying to maintain their humanity. Something would give soon; she just knew it would. All she could do was try to stay out of the crosshairs when it happened.

Also, it's Teaser Tuesday. I'm still reading the Mercy Thompson series by Patricia Briggs, but I'm on book 5 instead of book 2 (yeah, it's been that kind of week). So here are the rules and an excerpt from Silver Borne.

• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page
• Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!
• Then hit up Should Be Reading to add your link.

"I woke up lying in the dark and hurting all over, but especially on the back of my head. My ankles were also sore when I tried to move them." --Mercy Thompson

I'm taking this week off from writing so I can focus on editing Rosetta (which will soon not be called that anymore as I finally came up with a new name). I'm hoping to have the rewrite done by March 31 so I can start giving it to the wonderful people who've offered to read it for me, and maybe even stay on track to start querying agents in June (for the record, if I do, it'll be the first time I've ever created a schedule like this and actually stuck to it). So if you start seeing a barrage of either ecstatic or very angry comments on Twitter, don't be alarmed.

There It Was...

I think I'm becoming addicted to flash fiction contests, and McKenzie McCann turned me onto this one. The challenge was to write a 250-word microfiction story beginning with, "After all this time, there is was." Here's my answer:

After all this time, there it was.

It was a boy—a simple, small boy, maybe seven years of age.

It was maybe half the height of the other boys, a third the weight, with shining eyes and a wide smile.

It was the proof that good things came in small packages.

And maybe it was the lifeline that would help pull her out of her personal ocean of depression.

She approached it—him—cautiously, as if he’d disappear if she got too close. But he smiled at her, big and broad, showing a gap where two front teeth were missing, as if he were oblivious to his own troubled past. “Hullo,” he said.

“Hi,” she replied, softly, so as not to scare him.

“Are you here for Jeffy?”

“No,” she said, and her heart broke for this little boy who’d been passed over so many times already.

His brow furrowed. “Britney then?”

“No.”

“Oh. Um, Carly?”

“Nope.” The guessing game was relaxing her, and he looked taken aback when she finally smiled at him.

“Then who’re you ‘dopting?”

“Well,” she said, feeling like this was the biggest moment in her life, “if it’s alright with you, I’d like to adopt… you.”

His big, shining eyes got even shinier, and suddenly there it was again. That ache in her chest that told her they hadn’t taken her heart when they’d taken everything else.

There it is, she thought, taking him in her arms while he cried. There’s my son.