Red's Profile

Via Krista Butterfield

Name:  James Adam

Nickname: Red

Name meaning:

James: Supplanter

Adam: Son of man, Earth, Mankind, "Adam" for being the "first" hybrid in the Sanctuary Novels

Red: color of his aura; nicknamed by Violet when she saw him for the first time as a child (Violet sees aura)

Birthday: March 23, 1879

Zodiac Sign:  Aries

Chinese Zodiac: Hare

Significant Other(s): Violet

Family:

Mother: Mary Adam

Father: Unknown* unpublished material 

Siblings: None

Aunt: Pearl Adam

Uncle: Henry Adam (Mary's brother)

Physical characters: Black hair, born with blue eyes; described as having "kaleidoscope eyes" (turns colors, flashes white); turns blue when he’s calm or emotional; Everlasting youth; “He looks like his father"; handsome; 6' tall; no tattoos or piercings; Average build (fit); Black clothes, leather jacket, Converse sneakers; Crow transformation.

Aura color(s): Red

Personality: Stubborn; Stresses over Guardian work; Lonesome; Introvert; Kind; Needs to know the answers; Gentle; Good listener; Observant; Easily Obsesses.

Habits/mannerisms/ticks: None.

Abilities/powers: Telepath; Aura can push and pull other auras; when touched by Violet, he's overwhelmed with human emotions that override the logical Guardian mind; bends into the dark/shadows; stealthy; transforms into a black crow; utilizes possibility spheres to foresee future possibilities; matter/energy manipulation; mind manipulation; dreamscape manipulation.

Esoteric symbols: Black; Crow; Storms; Shadows; Demon.

Item(s) of Sentimental Value: Uncle Henry's pocket watch; Mary Adam's music box; Thomas Corvus Clearwater's hand-carved box; Guardian possibility spheres; his leather bound journals; The Sanctuary.

Hobbies: Journal writing; Studied and enjoyed Architectural Design as a young man; Tinkering.

Work: Guardian (watches over hybrids); Travel (Guardian duty); Worked at the Metropolitan newspaper for his Uncle.

Talents: Good with his hands; Quick learner; Absorbs information quickly; Photographic Memory.

Vices: Distraction; Lust; Jealousy; Stalking; Voyeurism.

Virtues: Chastity; Order; Sincerity; Loyalty; Insight; Wisdom; Silence; Courageous; Mercy; Resolution; Knowledge; Tranquility; Moderation; Temperance; Morality.

First time he enters the story: Pull: Book One-Prologue- Visits Violet as a little girl.

Second time he enters story:  Chapter one-comes home from tracking hybrids and writes in his journal.

Hero’s sacrifice: Loving Violet/ provides others for Violet to love.

Principled hero: He withholds his love from Violet (begins in book 2) he’s following the Guardian's natural law; He's against Dash’s "Impossible" ideas.

Sympathetic Hero: Forgives Grey (continuous); His Guardianship is hard; He wants to be with Violet.

Likeability: Generous provider; Moral to a point; Merciful, even to the worst of sinners.

Likes: Solitude after a hard days work; Writing; Watching Violet; Teaching Hybrids about their abilities.

Dislikes: Death; Incompletion of tasks/work; not knowing where Violet is at all times; knowing Violet is "with" someone else; Demons aka "Shadows", "Enities", "Aliens"; Breaking the natural laws of Guardianship.

Inner Journey: True love never dies; the impossible is possible.

 

 

 

 

 

*Spoiler: Hint: see dislikes

 

POV

I've read my prologue for Pull hundreds of times and I love everything about it. My proof readers loved it and I have an idea why. It's in the first person point of view. The rest of the Sanctuary novels are in the third person except for the Prologue. I wanted it to stand out like a prologue should. Red is one of my main characters in Pull and I wanted to begin with him because everything began with him. First person allows you to be close to the character as a reader. There's intimacy there. Most novels are written in the first person, but the santuary novels are third person, subjective omniscient.  I write with a distance between the reader and the character in order to keep the voice of my three main characters. The reader will see all three points throughout the Pull. I'm not head hopping within the same sections. I choose a character and stick with them through that chapter so it transitions better. The problem I saw after writing most of the series was after my proof readers read Pull, I wanted to go back and rewrite the story in first person, but then I would have to choose one character or at least I feel I would have to. That's a lot of work. I'm still contemplating the idea like Stephenie Meyers did with Midnight Sun (Twilight in Edwards POV).

Read my self-published ebook Pull it's FREE on Amazon for Kindle, Barnes and Noble for Nook and Smashwords.

Removed section of Gravity

I had written a prologue to Gravity, but it really didn't need it; it doesn't  better the story in any way that and my mom was into it. Jumping right into what feels like an entirely different story then what I left you with in Pull: Book One. SPOILER ALERT HERE if you didn't read Pull--> Violet was left on her own in the Sanctuary. Red and Grey don't come back. Removing this section all together before Gravity is released would hurt and it doesn't spoil anything.

Removed  prologue to Gravity:

 

I dream of them every night. I know it’s a dream because I wake to find I'm the only one in the cabin. I wake every morning to find the ceiling molding closing in above me. The room is shrinking—I'm sure of it. I used to have a closet. There's no closet. My window was bigger—I think. Five steps to the door—no—it's four today.

The living room is cold. The stone fireplace is colder. I stare at it for a moment. Maybe the black lumps of charred wood will rekindle, but they never do. The kitchen cabinets are always full. At least Red is still taking care of my stomach. I rub my belly. I'm never hungry, but I know I should eat something. I grab an apple off the counter. The bite is crisp, like it was picked off the tree yesterday. But Red didn't actually do that. Things just happen here in the Sanctuary. Apples appear, tomorrow maybe grapes or bananas. He provides too much in food. This assurance is not what I want. What I want is to be in his arms again.

I eat my apple and pretend he's just in his room. The idea of him watching helps. A false sense of him being near helps me get through my day. Pretending is natural when you're by yourself locked in a beautiful paradise with no one to share it with. Imagination is my only friend.

Outside of the cabin is not the same. Every day when the rain stops, I go outside to walk the perimeter of the field before it pours again. The gate is checked and it’s always locked. It’s never long before I'm drenched and I’m forced to run back to the cabin.

I know this means Red is upset. Grey had said the condition of the Sanctuary is a gauge for his mood.

I know he is hurting. I can feel it when I breathe. The air is thin as if Red is having this trouble himself.

I can't eat any more of the apple. I don't even want to swallow what's left in my mouth. Red would not be pleased to know I can't even eat an apple. I close my eyes a try and swallow. The image of Red folding his arms, tilting his head, "You have to eat, Violet."

I'm so weak I can fall asleep. I slump to the floor and drift off to dream the same dream of him. I can feel the beating of our hearts sync. I feel Red is at my side. But when I turn to see him he’s not there and yet, he’s in my peripheral vision. My aura detects he's near. I still feel he is with me when a feathery caress kisses my skin.

“Where are you?" The warm air breathes against my neck.

"Come home,” I ask him. Red never answers when I demand that. He’s just a black obscuration in the corner of my eye. He's a shadow once again.

Grey appears standing too far for me to reach. The distance is constant no matter how much I try to run to him. His black pea coat, pants and gloves appear to cover his entire body like a cocoon. His features are nothing like I remember. He's too dismal in my dreams; a stormy figure that sends a chill down my spine. His face is a splattered distortion with gray eyes. I think he wants his face erased from my memory. I try to retrieve it, but he won’t let me. I know the sweet part of him still exists. My heart is still with him. I know he's there within the dusky silhouette The other Grey is in the way of my Grey.

What have I done to him?

I remember in my dreams I express that I will never stop trying to release him from the burden that I beheld to him.

I know he's always reading me and he knows what I'm feeling even if my words don’t make it out of my mouth.

I miss him.

I love him.

Grey, I love you. I love you.

He communicates, but without a sound; it’s a simple discontenting glare every time. His silver eyes are sharp. Why do my thoughts anger him?

 

A Place Between Places

Once there was an angel named James with large black wings and colorful eyes. He watched over a magical girl on Earth. Over time he fell in love with her. One day the girl was drowning so James went down from heaven to save her. He brought her to his secret place between Heaven and Earth, a place between places, so that he can keep a close eye on her. The angel's friend, Ryan, who's angel wings shimmer in silver, showed the girl the beautiful place between places. Ryan fell in love with the girl and when James found out the girl loves Ryan back, his heart breaks. Both angels fight until Ryan falls from the place between places breaking his silver wings.

Pull is kind of like that. I'd continue but I'd only spoil the story.

 

Pull: A Sanctuary Novel book one is NOW AVAILABLE at Smashwords

I love crows. Today there were alot of squawking ones. At one point four of them circled above me. There was an extremely loud one that demanded my attention when I went for a walk with my mom. Funny enough the crow was in an evergreen right in front of a house I was admiring, hoping to one day live in one day. Maybe these crows were trying to tell me something. Maybe there just being crows. My protagonist turns into a crow and of course when I see them I can't help but think about Red. So I decided today was the day I'd upload my book into Smashwords to get the ball rolling. You can check it out here. Also my author profile here.
I'll have the ebook available on Barnes& Noble, Sony, Kobo, and the iBookstore soon!

My had my own 50 Shades made and ready to go at 14 year-old

Split by MugenMusouka at Deviantart.com

I used to go to bed with the same fantasy playing in my head. My eyes affixed to a small clipping of the hottest boy in Tiger Beat or Bop magazine. I'd memorized his cute face and picture him in school, talking to me, holding my hand, taking me to a dance or kissing me. Soon my little fantasies took on a whole story with a plot and he was the star and he was his starlet.
I found myself going back to one fantasy over and over. The Victorian setting was perfect for my ideal guy to own a mansion and to employ me as his maid. I know this is generic but I was young. Maids are good for many things, aren't they?
When I got older, there was more going on in my story than kissing and dusting my "master's" vases. He had a mansion and a lot of rooms, so naturally a teenage girl's mind is hormonally charged with ideas seen in movies, sex scenes in books or information heard from her best friend about third base.
I would have to confess my imagination at a young age was "ripe" and would rival the adopted lie that women aren't nearly as perverted as men. I, for one, blame my genetics. Instilled in me is some of the most obscene things and lucky for most people they do not see that when they look at my "sweet" face.
In my fantasies I was irresistible and whoever I was infatuated with at the time would play the part of my "master"; River Phoenix, Leonardo DiCaprio, my crush in school there was a lot of those. The list goes on ; singers, actors, real people. Until my man's face started to take a specific form and specific characteristics stuck. He ended up with pitch-black hair because he's dark and mysterious, of course. Big sapphire eyes to melt my insides to mush. They would seemingly glow in the dark as he would watch me perform my "duties", making his bed wink*. His eyes were the focal point in ever mini-movie i made; it's always the part of him I remember precisely. Eyes are the windows of the soul. He was tall because he overpowers me when he's greedy or he can look down on me when he's admiring my precious face. His frame was always obscured under a dark cloak; he always wore black. I couldn't make up my mind what he looked underneath because I was only fourteen or fifteen. Aside from brief nudity in movies, I had never seen a man naked before. So he stayed covered. Still, beneath his black cape intrigued me. I often left his body something to wonder about even after knowing what a my ideal man would look like. Even teasing myself was titillating. He eventually had to take his cloak off, of course. His slender, yet firm and strong body could carry me to his bed. s know it's lame but it happened, in my head! Hey, this is the stuff ladies think about every night or at least I do. Sounds like something out of a Harlequin book but I assure you my ideas dive further into the inappropriate than romantic. I like crossing lines and breaking laws. wink if you only knew what that meant, ha!
I  perfected his face, his body and his personality until characteristics I've left out still screamed at me. I love blonds and most guys I like happen to be blond so I decided I needed to be fought over. of course, I'm irresistible, remember? My "master's" rival  had to be equally handsome yet completely opposite in every way; he would take on the traits I wanted to use but couldn't on my dark knight.Where my blue eyes God was sweet, his rival had to be vicious. If one had secrets the other had more. If one laughed the other cries. I created the rival in contrast to my first man. My second lover has gray eyes, lighter than the deep blue of my first lover. His hair varied from blond to brown because he could never be the black like my first. They never truly had names; just the dark man and the light man, with an occasional last name for dialogue purposes.

"Oh, I shant, Mr. Thompson, I shant!"

I know it's lame but it happened!

  art by evillittlecherry at deviantart.com

When I wrote my first stories down I realized these men needed names. I designated a color to each. Red and Grey. Red can be a first name and the word itself signifies a dominate, deep, primary color just like my first dark dream lover. Grey can be a first or last name and the color signifies lightness from darkness or an in between color which this lover always signified in my fantasies.
I wrote down my bedside erotica for myself but both Red and Grey began to develop hearts and minds and my stories started to build up. Before I knew it, a structure of a real story was taking form.



art by Yoonsik at Deviantart.com

Now, I have a series I've written based on these two teen-hood fantasies. Pull, the first novel in the series sets the stage of the old fantasies I rehearsed in my head over and over again. Red is still the dark and mysterious lover and Grey is his wicked rival. They both became anchors to the entire Sanctuary series.

 

Art by Quiss at Deviantart.com

 

I always wanted to play the Violin, so Aiden Grey now plays it for me.





 Aiden Grey is looks out for his brothers, warning them of his father's wrath. He's the one they look up to because their father doesn't talk to anyone else but Aiden. Aiden shares the same ability as his father. Telepathy can go along way with Ryan Grey, a man with many secrets. But even Aiden can't get through the thick wall his stoic father had built.  For Aiden, he's the only one that can get his foot in the door. Standing beside him as he makes his important decisions and being the one that sees what others can not see is not a privilege. The burden of trying to please a cold father is like defrosting a glacier in the Arctic. But Aiden can please his father by doing one thing. Playing the violin seems to please him even just for a little while. Aiden plays for him, the one thing he knows he can do to perfection, often wondering at the same time what makes his father so sad.
 

The birth of a character can come from anywhere. The violin from my childhood was the birth of Aiden Grey. I had needed a devise to please Grey in his cold state; remembering his lost love, Violet. The violin had always seemed like a sad instrument to me. It slow wine was something I could relate to as a child. School was always a great stress to me and still is a source of great sadness for me. For Grey I had to reach deep inside and find something to try and console him. I first set my eyes on a violin at school during an introduction to the start of a band and orchestra program. I wanted to play the Violin but to add to my sadness my family had no money for such a thing. So Aiden plays the violin for me and he plays it for Grey, the lost soul in my series.

People I see everyday; acquaintances I meet once in a while; strangers I've spoken to once or never spoken to all all. Working in retail, I come across inspiring people everyday. Some more taxing than others but inspiring none the less. There's a young girl that comes into the book store I work in. She has short blond hair, boyish mannerisms and a strikingly handsome face. When I had first helped her I couldn't stop looking at her. Her attractiveness caught my attention in such a way that every time she comes in to read the comic books and graphic novels I need to see her. That attraction to that particular girl helps me with one particular character in my Sanctuary novels. I've named her Sonny and she has blond hair and a face just like the girl in the book store. The feelings I felt towards the girl in the book store are represented in Sonny. She's drawn towards Violet, my heroine in the Sanctuary novels. My curiosity about the same sex is also expressed through her. It's a wonderful discovery and an interesting journey when real people inspire real emotions that repeat in your writing.


Things you desire and things that are precious to the writer can inspire you to write about someone who would own the piece or come across the particular object. My husband purchased a telescope for me one Christmas. I had wanted one for such a long time because I look to the stars often at night and often wondered about the big picture. That telescope helped me get to know those stars and planets I loved dreaming about. Thanks to my telescope, the moon's details and luminescent presence in particular helped me write a love scene between to lovers. The telescope I have happens to sit in two of my character's bedroom. Red and Dash use them because they are symbolic of their higher power and their great wonder about the universe.

Places can be precious to characters as they are to you. When I was little, my sister and I went camping with my grandma, uncle and aunt to the Catskill Mountains. There was a double lake and forests surrounding it, all on top of a mountain. Those early memories of a beautiful place had influence on my main character Red in my Sanctuary novel series. He created a sanctuary that looks very much like the place I cherished as a little girl. The natural beauty, the smell of the fresh air and sounds of the country carried over to my novel, the setting of my entire Sanctuary series.

The past whether it's history or your own past can inspire not only story plots but characters. When I was little I was chased by a boy my mother babysat. At a young age, I was in love with love and the idea of a boy chasing me was one of the most exciting things I remember at such a young age. My first boyfriend and my second boyfriends (now my husband) created a jealous love triangle. I never would have thought I'd be fought over but secretly loved every moment of it. Love is the running theme in all of my stories. The love triangle from my teen  years makes a repetitive appearance in the Sanctuary Novels. One of the main characters, Violet is constantly chased after figuratively and literally.
History in general I love and plays in my many of my stories. Red, my protagonist in the Sanctuary novels was born in the Victorian era; discovered his hybrid abilities in the Great Depression; learned to fine tune his inherited powers during The Great War (WWI) and tracked his first Hybrid during the World War II. A have an outline of a story that takes place in the 80's about a bunch of friends that find a towns legend to be true. Another story outline I have takes place in the Victorian era about a girl who purchased into a secret society.

You always put a little or a lot of yourself in your characters even if their villains, you are part of their make up. Their fear and pain could be your fear and pain. Your hero's obstacles maybe your own. Their personality make up came from somewhere and who better than to know the character than the author. One of my heroes also plays the villain, transforming from one to the other and back again. This expression of transformation is one I relate to considerably. I've been betrayed and have been the betrayer. Unresolved issues that still hurt like open wounds have great weight in my novels. Grey, a main character in Pull, believed that his best friend Red would never hurt him. Red has saved his life and given him a second chance when his past seemed unforgivable, Red was the one who showed mercy; helped lead Grey to a better life. But as the story unfolds, Grey makes Red the enemy out of jealous over a girl they both fall in love with. No longer trusting his best friend Grey converts back to being the man he used to be; becoming the villain in the series.

Sometimes your characters hold all your secrets out like dirty laundry. One character of mine takes pleasure in watching other couples. Another hates that she's a girl and binds her breasts. My heroine has more than one lover. These interesting details often display certain "quirks" or "desires" that the story teller often adds to make these characters interesting. They come from somewhere...more often than not they are aspects of the author herself. Wink*

 

Is a crow just a big black bird?

I recently made it known that I was in much need of a glass jar to display my button collection. My husband comes home with an enormous jar 9'' high and 5 inches wide; too big to display something as humble as tiny buttons. I took my buttons I've been storing in a plastic bag and dumped into the spacious jar. To my surprise it looks lovely.
The one inch space the buttons took left the rest empty but I thought to myself, is it really emptiness that that males it look so lovely. It's the hope of filling it and the joy of slowly doing so.
Objects are symbols. They're representation is only relevant when we give them meaning.

An engagement ring.
A photo of a loved one passed on.
A lucky rabbits foot.
A song that brings back a memory, though not an object the sound is carried through one.

Even if the meaning is negative it is still meaningful.

A cluttered closet is cluttered mind. Is it a coincidence you feel better in a organized home?
A empty room is loneliness. There's no one there not even a chair.
A forgotten teddy bear slumped over with dust on it's glassy eyes. Could it be this bear has a heart? I can imagine it may be crying.

Objects are just as symbolic in life as they are in fiction. In my first novel Pull, two specific objects make their appearance and do so in my second novel. Their symbolism doesn't change with my characters as they mean the same thing to one character as it does to another. Symbols and signs carry weight because to everyone it's meaning is similar. Like dreams of snakes can mean death or rebirth, depending on the dreamer, yet death is also seen as a rebirth and in that they are similar.
Darkness is negative.
Lightness is positive.
These things are represented the same in nearly every culture.
Is not the night filled with stars and a bright moon? Positive even in darkness.
The clouds shroud the moon, and the natural light is no more. Destroying the positive.
When you are reading a story take note of the objects in the way they are represented and it gives clues to the inner workings of the character and even the plot resolution.
In Pull, one object the protagonists tinkers with is a music box that he once brought home to his sick mother. When the object is first introduced, it is dismantled in pieces on his writing desk, no longer in use for the purpose it had before. The owner, Red, keeps it as it used to be his mothers. This object will later appear in the series with a similar purpose to wake a loved one from their slumber, but with a different owner.
You give objects their meaning and this is very important in fiction as objects are like shells in sifted sand. Its very presence is important to the story. How many things do you have, make such a presence in your life?
My button jar isn't nearly full but hope-full.

Here's a few other objects I placed in my novel series for symbolism fun whether the reader knows it or not:
Aspen tree: Overcoming fear.
Oak tree: Strength and courage.
Day Lily: Wish for a baby boy.
Rose: Beauty, love, purity.
Phoenix: death, purification, rebirth.
Bee: regeneration, fruitful activity, feminine, growth, motherhood.
Crow: Red is the book 1 protagonist who shape shifts into a crow, Omen (good and bad), associates with the darkness, keeper of the sacred law, messenger.
Red Tailed Hawk: Guardian, protection, healing, safety, long life, higher perspective.
Owl: Vigilance, acute wit, patience, keen sight, solitude, time, harbinger of new cycles.
Dog: Grey is a character throughout the Sanctuary novels shape shifts into a Alaskan Husky dog, it's a tradition that Huskies are named by their personality and in Grey's case he is a gray area character; he is both the hero and the villain (both light and dark). Dogs: guardian of secrets, faith, loyalty, friendship, power over life and death.
Music box: Call back a loved one from slumber, memory.
Victorian pocket watch: Victorian era, time, reminder of purpose. (in Pull Red carries one. He was born in this era. He gives this watch later in book 2 which its purpose is "enhanced".)
Violet: The name of the character my protagonist falls in love with whose aura is blue. Little blue flower, affection, virtue, faithfulness.
Feather: Center of existence, innocence, trust. (in Pull Grey gives Violet a feather necklace which later is ripped from her neck)

*Pull is my first novel in the Sanctuary series.

art by derSheltie at Deviantart.com

"Fear me and nothing else."

These are the words my protagonist says to his love to keep her at a distance, unfortunately he not as perfect as he was made to be and will break his own rules over and over again.

You're not perfect, but what if your purpose is perfection, and without it people die. What if there's a life set before you with a precise line for you to follow? Your weakness is that you found something you never thought you'd desire is the one thing  that makes you imperfect. You want nothing more than to veer off the path and change the course so that you can be with the one you can't live without. But if you do this, others will suffer. Your very purpose is stained with imperfection.
 Love makes you do crazy things.
Red is one of the main characters in my novel Pull, who battles with a higher self over a forbidden love that weakens his ability, in turn hurts his kind for this imperfection. Red is torn between what he has to do and what he so desperately wants to do. Will he do it?

I want her to be mine.
I know I'm wrong.
-Pull excerpt unrevised.

I hold Red dear to my heart. He's the reflection of the inner spark that threatens each day to breakout.  I hold him tightly inside myself just as the laws in his world tie him down. We all follow a pattern and we yearn to break it. Red's a wonderful character to express the need to deviate from the normal and finally strive for something more than what is placed in front of you. He discovers what happens when you choose between your hearts longing desire and the logical path of the mind. Ignoring one will destroy something or someone. Would make such a sacrifice?

 

The eyes do not rest because behind them is a principled mind reminding Red, he is the Guardian. -Pull excerpt unrevised.

 

picture by HearThisPlease at Deviantart.com

 

Red writes and I write. Of course, Red is only a fictional character I think maybe he is more than that. But none the less I am him and he is me all the same. Although, I've only started writing for a few of years, Red has been a writer all his life. He's shown me that this ability had always been inside of me. I just had to give in to the spark and let it ignite into a burning flame until it cannot be doused.
Passion is like a flame.
When it burns you can't put it out. It takes hold of your being. Your soul sings. It's love in it's purest form because it's who you really are.  I shall hope you know this feeling. Not many people find their passion or the love of their life. You may have spoken to someone who has, so then you can see how bright their flame burns. They're like a candle in a dark room.

Red fell in love. This was not in his purpose, yet it is the only thing he feels is the truth to his being. His mistakes and flaws recreate who he is and everyone around him. He urges me every day to do the same, no matter what. I must think my stories to life. I have to keep writing.

 

First things first read the idiot's guide and research, research, research

So I'm researching query letters and on my break at work I'm reading the Idiot's Guide to query letters. I'm reading blogs and articles online query query query... I come across an article on Self-publishing. I had originally planned to self-published bypassing the "hard work" in getting a publishing house to except my work. If you can even get noticed. This article said to do both!
Have my cake and eat it? Oh yes!
I can upload my novel as an e-book (an electronic book or digital representation of a book read on a digital device, such as smart phones, e-readers, tablets and computers) Through a self-publishing site, I can sell Pull on Amazon, iTunes, and Barnes and Noble all at once. I can choose to print my book, but of course that's where you have to pay the big bucks. With an e-book I can sell it at a reduced cost or even for free and I get more profit than I would a major publisher. While self-publishing it, I can query about the same book, earning credit at the same time.
Don't get me wrong, it's not about the money, it's about people reading my work. This is the one thing I've stuck to because I've finally found something to be passionate about. It would be awesome to make money while doing it, sure! I could use money for a house we'll eventually buy or a baby that's not yet born. But first and foremost is sharing my work. making it into a movie.
I can't wait to get to the feedback from my beta readers. I can't wait to polish up Pull and have it available for download.

Art by Merkotoz

New To Do List:

• Polish and edit Pull (book one of the Sanctuary novels).
• Coffee.
• Find a book cover artist or a royalty free graphic for Pull.
• Research more on LuLu.com for my self publishing needs.
• More coffee.
• More Blink 182 listening for positivity.
• Work on book 2, working title: Gravity.
• Continue reading on query letters.

ZZZZZzzzz

Writing is my passion. How many people find their passion in life? I do bounce from one entertaining hobby to another like my father, but I find the one thing I can't stop doing is writing. It's what I want to do when I'm at work, when I'm in the shower, when I' not at home. All of the time.
The problem is time.
I don't have enough of it.
The majority of my time I'm at work.
I'm tired.
Maybe it's Holiday time and it's me whining, but all I want to do lately is sleep and watch Netflix. Even coffee isn't giving the extra push to write something as small as this blog. I'm barely awake. A week ago I finished my first draft. I think I maybe feeling like I need a vacation from writing. I should allow my mind to rest for the new year before I start my query letter, revisions on book one and the start of my craft revisions on book two. (Book two through four are written but not revised to a readable state.)
I should rest.

I know the moment I have the spurt of energy I'll be at my desk, on my iPhone, or my Nook to jot my brains out. I should really rest.

To Do List:

• Research Query Letter examples
• Research Literary agents in my genre (Crossover teen, sci-fi, paranormal romance, speculative)
• Buy more coffee (something different, I get tired of drinking the same kind after a while)
• Start Craft revision on Book two
• Review results from beta readers/proof readers.
• Make more copies of book one for beta readers
• Listen to Blink 182 new EP
• Laundry
• Laundry
• laundry
• Coffee... ZZZZzzzzz

Thanks mom.

Picture courtesy of Nelly Smith

I opened my e-mail today and my mom has taken a picture of my first draft. As you can see she also placed it in a binder for easy reading. Don't worry, she didn't destroy it; it's only her copy. She's one of my beta readers.
Hey, I know what you're thinkin: Why on earth would you have your own mother read this? Of course she'll love it. You know how many authors have their mother read their work. Like all of them. I don't actually have proof of that. She has a great eye for detail and loves a good story. If it's not a good story she'll tell me. No, she'll probably love it anyway.
Along with my mom, I have other beta readers in mind. My sister, my aunt, my mom's friend... Seriously is your whole family gonna read it? I'm also looking outside of my immediate family. There are beta reading groups and critique groups I'm considering. The more the merrier. I need people who like paranormal romance and people who don't. People who don't read that stuff are excellent at spotting things like the pace of the story, boring dialogue, character dynamics and plot assessment. People who like that genre can tell me how they feel about my characters, it they "do it" for them. We're talking about Romance remember?

Check out this blog on the definition of paranormal romance!

I wanted to make music, so I started writing.

The disc I burned today was my first draft to a series I've been working on for the past few years. The first draft of book one took the longest to revise since the it was skeletal in it's original form. It's taken many cups of coffee and 8 GB of music to help me structualize my story; define my characters. Paint my picture with words I know and words the thesaurus helped me with.
Right now, I'm listening to the most inspirational music one can listen to for such a victory. The epic sounds of Angels & Airwaves engages my imagination to what my finished book will look like. The manuscript on the literary agents desk in the yes pile. Yes, I will have my novel printed, sold in books stores. Even my book store where I currently work at. I will see in the bestsellers bay. The dust jacket baring my name and the title I feel sums my book up. One word.
Pull
My heart pulls in one direction: Up. I fell I can only go that way because I've been every other way. It feels good to complete this one step. It's one closer to ultimate victory, but I feel I already have that.

"Here I am, here we go, life's waiting to begin."

Original character art by Nami-mi

Character by Nami Mi. Revision by Orihichan.

 

Tom DeLonge sings these words in his song, The Adventure, by his band Angels & Airwaves. I can't tell you how many times I've listened to that one song. The first time I heard it, it brought tears to my eyes. Someone was singing to my heart. I've never experienced that before when  a song that wasn't sung by my mom or my grandma. Tom Delonge was always someone I looked to for answers. His band Blink-182 is my favorite band ever. When I listen to their music it was humorous, anger and touching. It was unlike anything I've hear. Every lyric and strum of his guitar and Mark Hoppus's bass was something meant just for me. At least if felt like it. The music called to me.
Now, Angels and Airwaves confirms a new chapter in my life and Tom's transition from pop punk to epic rock was something I was growing with. I was following the music and the music followed me.
The flow of the songs I listen to activated me in such a way it envelopes my heart and my mind into an expansive world that is invisible to the naked eye. I've always wanted to express myself as creatively as Tom does. I wanted to paint the picture. I wanted people to watch my mind movies. Feel what I feel. Fear what I fear. I wanted to make music, so I started writing.

My grandma's death gave me the emotional build up I need to begin. I started by logging her funeral and expressing my emotions within the pages of an old notebook. From that, I reread my work and found a movie scene complete with music and a heartfelt story.
If I can do this with something real, can I do it with something not so real?
Little did I know what was inside me was very real and so I began the story I've used thousands of times in my head while I listened to music. A story I fantasized since maybe fourteen years-old or so.
Of Course it's a love story.
Every aspect of me is in it.
You will read it one day.

"The stars in your eyes, light up the sky, With all it's light and fire inside." -Love Like Rockets by Angels & Airwaves.