The story of my dreams

Ever have one of those dreams, where you wake up, and you're struck by this excited, almost spiritual certainty? I just dreamed the perfect idea for a story. Of course that sensation usually wears off once you're more awake, and your cognitive powers are firing on all cylinders, but sometimes, objectively, you see a little glimmer of something useful in your dream.

I was editing Fiersom's Brood on Friday morning, fell asleep, and woke up with one such story.

So. Editing was shot for the day. I cranked the story out, 2400 words, and then just sat there looking at it. What in the hell is it?

I have this sense that the story has value, but I have no idea how to categorize it. I thought maybe, if some of you had the time, you could pop on over to the cafe (Writer's Cafe) and have a look. Tell me what you think. Is it good? What genre is it? Crit is welcome, because, to tell you the truth, I'm thinking this might have a strong showing in a contest or two.


THE HUMMER
A short story by
Ray Veen




Comment-wise, I'd be really interested to know: have any of you ever turned a dream into a work of fiction? S'okay if you're not a writer. Have you ever had a dream that you thought would make a good story? List your ideas in my comment section, please, so that I may steal them all and go on to make a fortune in the literary world with the products of your twisted imagination.

Out of the mouths of babes

I love the writing my kids bring home from school. Even when it's a complete lie. I'm gonna go ahead and post a little thing for you here, but let me offer this disclaimer in advance: we do not in any way, shape, or form, use our children as slave labourers.

Veenie-Baby-Land is still a happy place to live, and Child Protective Services need not be apprised of any suspicious-seeming, abuse-like activities.

Written by Brooke, age 7:

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One day I worked super hard. I was super tired but my mom toll me I had too work the hole entire day but I was super strong so when the day was over I whent to bed. Then next morning I had too work even harder! We had too clean the rest of the house when I was done I went outside to help my dad and we were done outside. My dad said “thank you” and I was super happy and Dad said “you are super helpful”. I said “thank you”.

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Cute, no? You see why I chose the above picture -- to prove that we do let her rest from time to time. (I wonder where she gets her ability to fabricate works of literary fiction?)

One last lil' thing: I'm on my last big push to edit Fiersom's Brood before I start querying. So I may not be super active on the super blogs over the next super week or so.

Ooooohhh... a doggy!

Here's a super cute picture of our fairly new dog: Buddy. That's actually short for 'Notoriously Handsome Buddy'. Seriously. If you don't believe me, I'll show you his papers. Anyway. He's this massive, plodding chocolate lab, that mopes around giving us sad looks like, "why don't you people feed me more?"

God forbid he should ever step on your toe.

So, I wrote a limerick about him. It didn't win, but I thought I'd share.

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My Lunk-head Dog

If ever you visit my home
You should know how my dog says ‘hello’
He’ll fly straight and true
Like an arrow towards you
Delivrin’ your groin a great blow

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Al-righty then. The real reason I'm posting.

I've had my beta copies of Fiersom's Brood circulating for almost two weeks now and I'm starting to get some good feedback. It's helped a lot when it comes to grammatical goofs and continuity coughs, but what I really need is some intense, knowledgeable crit of the first few pages. Thus, this morning, I posted the first chapter to Absolute Write. For those new writerly friends of mine who are active on AW, perhaps you could find it in your heart to give it a lil' 'once-over'. I want, I desire, I need to have these first pages perfect. If not, then everything I've ever written has been for naught; all is lost, and I shall not write again.

FIERSOM'S BROOD

One last thing: I'm adding this new block of links to my sidebar, "Care to read some of my writing?"

I'm not a huge fan of short fiction. I don't particularly want to write short fiction. But I have in the past. If you're interested in reading some of my old short stories or novellas, by all means, click the links, but it really won't hurt my feelings if you don't.

The writing, for the most part, kind of blows. (I've gotten better, I think).

Naught remains but a fond memory...

... and a hangover.

Saturday. The Michigan Irish Music Festival. We had one hell of good time. And now I'm paying for it.

Despite the heavy rain, the music went on in the Pub Tent and under the main stage band shell. Merry flutes and pipes, flying fiddles, the rhythymically beating bouhrain that made you want to jump up and start 'step-dancing' (think 'Riverdance'). All that, and free-flowing Guinness. Of course, by 'free', I mean 'copious amounts' - everything was actually a little pricey.

Which prompts me to mention all the drunk-money we spent.

I bought a CD set that I thought was fifteen dollars when in actuality it was thirty. We bought a sweet penny-whistle complete with instructional book and CD - thirty-five dollars - which we prompltly lost when we pulled it out to show it to some other drunk guy. We drank and ate and drank and ate, then washed it down with more drink. The music was incredible. The entertainers were entertaining (Irish people are funny - didja know?), and we eventually met up with my sister and some old good friends. Shout out to Rich and wife. So yeah. It was bliss. Sweet Irish bliss.

And then I got sick. I won't go into it in graphic detail, but yeah, here it is Monday morning, and I still feel kind of queasy. And you know what else? I was barely able to stagger to the stage yesterday to read my winning limericks. (I tied for first with this other writer I know)



If you're interested, here's a link to a good example of the entertainment: Seamus Kennedy

Okay. Now here's a link to my limericks from last year: Ray's Limericks 2007

And finally, a link to the best blog on the interweb: Is this supposed to be a joke?

And now I shall continue to bore you with my query woes...

Okay. I hate to harp on the query thing, but unfortunately, I seem to be somewhat fixated at the moment. This post originally started as a response to comments on the last post, but yeah, it started to get really big, so I used a magical stone of teleportation to bring it to the 'create-post' screen. (Inquire not into my mystic ways, for there are some magicks too dangerous to share over the internet.)

First of all, I need to thank you people profusely for all your help. Honestly, I'm amazed by the volume of feedback my last post generated. There were many keen observations observed, and fresh perspectives perspected, and I am hugely grateful. I've said it before and I'll say it again - you people are the best people I know.

So okay -- I don't know guys. I understand the arguments for stripping the paragraphs about the Nephilim, but I can't bring myself to start my query with the word 'when'. Dang near 40% of all query letters start with the word 'when'. My biggest problem with most of the queries I read is all the sad conformity. Same rhythym, same obligatory listing of events, same obligatory 'but who is that masked man?' questions. It's like there's really only one query letter in existence and writers are just plugging their character's names into it. I don't know how agents can stand to read them.

Here is my query/synopsis for Elfhame. Even now, I look at it and see things I'd like to change, but this little baby snagged me five requests for partials and two requests for fulls. That makes me think that somewhere in here, I've done something right.

Because of the faeries, she’ll have to lie and steal. She’ll have to disguise herself and hide. She’ll have to bluff, and run, and at times, she’ll even have to fight. She is a thirteen-year-old slave, and she’ll do anything to get free.

Xierna knows that her mother’s name is Carowyn, she knows that their home is at the bottom of a green valley, and she knows that a monstrous changeling currently resides there, sleeping in her bed, eating her meals, and living her life under the sun with her mother. Since the day they’d been switched as infants, Xierna has known only hardship and labor, underground, in the twilight realms of Elfhame.

To mankind, Elfhame is nothing but a folk-tale – a story to amuse their children before they’re tucked into bed – but to Xierna, it is the only world she has ever known. Home to an array of mythic races, Elfhame is divided into thirteen wondrous brughs, connected only by a series of enchanted portals: chambers of doors called ‘sitheins’. Xierna knows the ancient path through them. She’s acquired the proper pass-warde. And this time she’ll let nothing stand between her and her freedom.

(this picture has nothing to do with anything - just wanted to share)

For me, conformity is anathema. I'm freaking Cindy Lauper (or maybe Punky Brewster), you know? That's kind of why I posted two versions of my potential query; I'm in danger of doing something 'over-the-top' goofy, and I need people to talk me out of it. Then again, I won't force myself to sound like everybody else, either. I don't know. I want to trust my own gut, but it still warrants more thought, I guess. Good thing I have a few more weeks until my sixth draft is done and I need to start querying.

(Speaking of which, Absolute Write folks -- isn't there a forum where people post their queries for critique? I've looked a couple times but can't find it.)

One last thing, even though I'm a former pastor, the biblical stuff in my book is not inherently 'Christian'. It's sort of along the lines 'Raiders of the Lost Ark' because it takes something from the Bible, and exploits it for the sake of entertainment. It could also be compared to 'The DaVinci Code' because it borrows one of its central concepts from non-canonized, apocryphal scriptures (the Book of Enoch). And I think we all remember the sh#tstorm that caused. Any suggestions as to how I can safely make this distinction in my query letter? Assuming I decide to leave the Bible stuff in?

(This will most likely not be a very commentable post for most of you. Sorry. If you'd like to let me know you were here, but have nothing really to contribute, might I suggest insincere flattery? Your own original limerick? Or perhaps you could congratulate me on one week smoke-free?)

Let's talk about queries.

My editors, hard at work.

So like I said I would, here are two potential forms of my query letter. At the moment, I'm asking which is the better form, but I'm also open to any and all crit. They're still fluid and malleable, but once they harden a little bit (and once one of them is slated for execution), I'll float them through the sewers of forums and see what kind of germs they attract. I learned real hard not to post anything there until I thought it was pretty darn good. Anyway, back on topic, which style would be more effective?

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Style #1: "The classic synopsis."

They are Nephilim: descendants of fallen angels and mortal women.

God sent His great flood, in part, to wipe out every trace of their abominable civilization, yet a remnant survives to this day, hidden beneath ocean and earth, striving to redeem themselves under a suspended form of their punishment.

When fourteen-year old Noah Fiersom finally meets his real family, he is thrilled to find that they are fabulously wealthy. But strange events soon begin to erode that joy. His father is reclusive and mysterious. His five siblings are secretive and petty. And after only one week at Fiersom Manor, Noah’s new home is invaded by soil-borne demons. So begins a cross-country race for answers. Where have they taken the Fiersom’s father? Who is he, really, and why does it seem that he’s lived many lifetimes? What are these strange powers awakening within the Fiersom teens? And the most frightening mystery of all… what’s in the bassinet?

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Style #2: "Risky first-person."

I’m fourteen years old, and I just met my real family. My name’s Noah Fiersom, and I’ll make this quick – you’re probably won’t believe it anyway. Turns out my father’s 300 years old, my siblings have mental powers, and we’re descended from Nephilim – fallen angels – like in the Bible.

Yeah.

So here’s what’s going on…. Some time in the past, like lifetimes ago, our father made this horrible mistake, and all kinds of fun people came looking for him: high-tech pagan commandos, soil-borne demons, Nepheel Inquisitors, you name it – if they’re freaky and scary, they’re hunting him.

Long story short: they found him. They blew up our mansion on stilts, broke into his secret lab to steal our old bassinet, then they captured our father. And now – they’re after us. I don’t know why, we never did anything to them, but they want us bad. The only thing we’ve got going for us is a few fake credit cards, some minor martial arts training, and yes, mental powers (which aren’t all that impressive until you need to prank one of your jerk brothers). We’ve also got a backpack full of ants. Sounds weird, I know, but it turns out to be important. You’ll see why if you take a chance and read our story.

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Here are some factors that will surely muddle your opinion-forming proccess. I like the classic synopsis, but no matter how hard I try, any attempt to list the major events of this book, as well as any attempt to summarize the central concept, winds up with a strong 'horror-esque' feel. Not neccessarily bad, considering I think what I have is compelling, but should any agent ask for sample material, what he gets will bear very little resemblance to the query letter. "What the hell is this? I ask for horror and he sends me kitsch?... I'm crossing him off my Christmas card list."

The risky first-person version is, well... risky. I fully expect every writer and agent on every board to remind me that it has to be in third person. You can't write a query in first person because nobody writes queries in first person and agents aren't expecting to see queries in first person and you're probably gonna make their eyes bleed, and if you make their eyes bleed, they're not gonna want to risk looking at the rest of your manuscript.

Frankly, this argument doesn't really bother me. What bothers me is that the sentences and paragraphs in this version are like wet paper. I'm having a heck of a time tweaking it because pieces of it keep dissolving beneath my fingertips. In other words, it's one tricky, slippery eel of a thing to write. I'm completely open to suggestions in this regard.

There you have it. Any and all thoughts would be appreciated, even from my non-writing friends. I'm simply asking you to pretend you're a literary agent. and tell me which letter is more likely to make you want to see more of my story. Then, I'm asking you to criticize all the spelling and structure and whatnot, rewrite it so it's proper, then send it to every agent your research shows to be appropriate for young-adult urban fantasy. Let me know if any of them offer representation. Thanks.

Updation:

Do you like the taste of 'update salad'? In case you've never had it, that's where I (your chef) mix together many healthy and tasty ingredients, and you (my patron) try to choke it down without making a face. Would you like to give it a try?

Bon appetit.

So I'm in the process of changing my blog back to normal, couldn't bear all that hard to read stuff even though I do love the rain. Briefly had a cool Guinness layout from Pyzam but it appears as though Blogger doesn't care for Guinness. This scary picture with the eyes is the cover for the beta versions of Fiersom's Brood that just came in. For my local friends, I'll try to get copies to you next week. For my online friends, digital copies can be sent to you should you actually have many hours to spare beta-reading. I sent in a bunch more limericks to the Irish Music Festival people but I'm reluctant to post them until after the contest because if you read the last few comments on my previous post you'll see that I'm starting to worry about the competition. Gotta win. Totally. I'm back to doing writing stuff all day long cuz my kids are back in school but I'm not sure what to work on. I've been molding this strange pair of query letters and I think I need some help deciding which will go out into the world and which will be quietly slaughtered and buried in the back yard. Expect a post soon where I will ask you to help me to decide their respective fates. In the meantime, my beta copies have subtly indicated that I should immediately start on another line edit of Fiersom's Brood. Because some of it smells funny. I fell into my tub yesterday morning cuz I was wearing pajama pants and sitting on the edge to brush Brooke's hair - she backed into me and I slid and fell hard and caved in the back of my skull. It hurt and they laughed but I'm much better now. And guess what? I'm going to try to quit smoking. Again. Tomorrow. For the enty-enth time. I don't know about you but this salad is starting to taste funny so I think I'll just push myself away from the table and excuse myself to go to the bathroom where I intend to stick my finger down my throat. I'll understand if you want to do the same.

Because I love you all and don't want to give you food poisoning.