Would A Novel, By Any Other Name, Smell as Sweet?

After I received the "alternate titles" request I mentioned in my previous post, I went to these ladies for a little help and found this.
As helpful as it is to be encouraged to relax about a title, to not stress so much over what your novel will be called because chances were never there for your title to stick in the first place, I still find myself checking my email every few hours, waiting on word from the title comittee, who ended their last email assuring me they will take everything into consideration, and hopefully would be able to pick a good one.

Aaak!

Do not get me wrong! I am still totally blown away by this chance... that editors are even calling me Krista and "part of the Covenant family" still makes my toes curl and I find myself smiling into space over all this opportunity.

But, I came up with seven, and then two more, titles to give them. I liked ONE of those. One. And I didn't like it better than the original. The others had me wincing, sticking my tongue out, shaking my head as I typed them into the email.
And I have a feeling this is something I am going to have to get over. Because the lovely people at Covenant know what they are doing, right? RIGHT? Of course they do (mantra chant). And I am guessing my suggestions aren't the only ones on the table.

And Annette Lyon is right. The story was great enough to catch the editor's eyes. They love my book. The title will come. And the next one, and the next one.
The Orchard... The Inn... The Lake... like that.

Right?

Here We go!

A request for 5-10 alternate titles? What? But... but it's called The Orchard. Umm, okay.
Think.
Think.
Think.
Read.
Think.

I knew this happens. I've read about it. Still, when the request is made of me, I am stunned. Scratching my head, I come up with seven ideas. Still like the original best. At least they ask me.
This is all very interesting. I'll let you know what happens next.

Comes The Sunlight

 An excerpt, in memory of my daughter, born and died December 17, 1996:

And so it was, that we learned how to prepare for the worst, while hoping for the best.  We picked out a name: Kate Afton, after my great-grandmother, Katherine, and the serene mountain valley in Wyoming where Brandon’s parents had recently moved, and where we found perspective, peace, and wonder on our summer visit.

As I sat with my Primary class during singing time, the words of a song the children were learning, and I knew well, caught me off-guard.  My voice caught and my vision blurred.  

When He comes Again, by Mirla Greenwood Thayne, had always been a beautiful song to me, but hearing it now, it meant something much more profound.  It was no longer a song of a child wondering what season Jesus Christ would return in, or if he would be ready.  It was a song of hope; hope that we would be with Kate again, that she had a purpose to fulfill here, and our Savior would receive her with open arms. 

Overwhelmed, I couldn’t sing, but listened to the children’s voices pick up the words.  After singing time, the primary president approached me, and asked if I was all right. 

I explained with a tight voice, “We are losing this baby.” 

I spent my nights silently fighting the cry that forced its way from my heart, to my lungs, to my eyes, finally to leave my body in muffled gasps and tears that streamed.  I envisioned the baby, the little girl, the young woman I would not make memories with as I had done with my other children.  Only prayer would help me find sleep. 

Heavenly Father, please help everything be all right.  Please help Kate feel our love for her.  Please help us be strong, and turn to each other, and our Savior. 

The Primary song would return, and I would finally drift off.  Will herald angels sing…

RUN

James Dashner's Maze Runner has been mentioned so many times in my internet browzing, I had to read it for myself. So, after I bought it for my son for Christmas (I'm pretty sure he doesn't check this blog), and before I hid it to be wrapped, I read it.
I am so excited to give it to him.
If you haven't read the opening scene on Dashner's website, and you want to read an example of how to draw a reader into a story, go now and read it... but then come back here because I have a little more to say.
Underdog heroes,twists and turns, tranport into another reality, second guesses, grappling mental and physical challenges... this is a book that moves.
I loved the hidden potential, the discovery of how strong we might be. And we're not done. Not at all.
I could not embrace one of the main characters introduced later in the book, but I wonder if I am not meant to yet. It is one of the reasons I will be looking for the second book. The other reasons are that I want to see evil overcome, I want to see characters avenged, I want to know how the others were tested.
We shall see!

Tagged By M. Gray. Thanks!

On to you, G.G. Vandagriff, Carla Parsons, and Norma Rudolph.

1. What's the last thing you wrote? What's the first thing you wrote that you still have?
I have been editing two books: Remnant, and The Inn. But writing writing? The last pages of Grace and Chocolate were done a few weeks ago.
I have a bunch of poetry and essays I kept from high school and college. Funny (to laugh at), heart-wrenching, dramatic stuff.

2. Write poetry?
Yes. Not as much lately. It really has to hit me and I'll write it down.

3. Angsty poetry?
"Ode To A Punker's Sister, 4/22/86 For Laurel Banner, may she survive being raised by the book." Awesome 80's angst.

4. Favorite genre of writing?
I have to say romance (real, deep, true stuff, not that other kind), though I love fantasy, suspense and some historical fiction.

5. Most annoying character you've ever created?
Cush, a two-faced Nephite traitor who wouldn't shut up and chewed with his mouth open. Ugh.

6. Best Plot you've ever created?
Hmm. So little of my stuff has been read... I love The Lake. I can't wait to get The Orchard and The Inn out so I can get to The Lake. Too soon to tell, I guess. I need more feedback.

7. Coolest Plot twist you've ever created?
Grace and Chocolate. I didn't even see it coming.

8. How often do you get writer's block?
Apparently every Thanksgiving through Christmas. Or is that just busy?

9. Write fan fiction?
I guess I have to say yes. The Orchard is a modern take on Jane Austen's Persuasion. The first half of Orchard gets us to the point where Austen's Persuasion begins, and that storyline is woven into the second half of the book. Although I really appreciated having a story like that as a guide to my first novel, I don't think I will need to do it again.

10. Do you type or write by hand?
I used to write furiously by hand, but most everything is on the computer now.

11. Do you save everything you write?
Yes. Thank heavens for jump drives.

12. Do you ever go back to an idea after you've abandoned it?
I'll save edits I think are great, in case I need them for something else, tweaked to fit.

13. What's your favorite thing you've ever written?
That's hard. I love writing emotion. There was a scene in The Lake... it was 2 am and I was sobbing, just bawling, getting this written (and I'm really pretty reserved emotionally). But there are some suspenseful scenes in Remnant so different from what I'd written before, loved that, too.

14. What's everyone else's favorite story that you've written?
You mean my mom's? Ha ha. I haven't had enough read to know. We'll say The Orchard, because it will be my first publication.

15. Ever written romance or angsty teen drama?
Romance. Even Remnant, a post Book of Mormon speculative... couldn't stay away from it. It happens. The Lake spans 7 years of the mc's life, starting at age 15, so there was some fun teen stuff in there.

16. What's your favorite setting for your characters?
Loved the setting for Orchard and Lake.  "Currant Lake" is a fictional lake in Flathead Valley, MT based on a real one where we vacation.

17. How many writing projects are you working on right now?
Ready to get Remnant out to readers, Grace and Chocolate is being read, editing The Inn for submission.

18. Have you ever won an award for your writing?
No.

19. What are your five favorite words?
A few are wretched, caught, hush, ferocious, and squeegee.

20. What character have you created that is most like yourself?
Kirianah, in Remnant. I didn't mean to, but my husband caught it (hey, that's a favorite word) two chapters in.

21. Where do you get ideas for your characters?
Most of them come on their own, some I need help with, mostly minor characters based loosely on family members.

22. Do you ever write based on your dreams?
No, but I have woken up inspired, and The Inn explores dreams and their purposes.

23. Do you favor happy endings?
Yes. I threw The Mill On The Floss, by George Eliot, across the room when I finished it. Unless it's a series. There has to be hope.

24. Are you concerned with spelling and grammar as you write?
Yes. I edit as I go and it drives me crazy. I've tried not to. It's better that I just let my mental editor free, and no one gets hurt.

25. Does music help you write?
It's too distracting to the movie in my head. I listen to music at almost any other time, though, and put together soundtracks to my novels when I am near completion.

26. Quote something you've written. Whatever pops into your head.
Are we supposed to remember what we've written? Um, since I mentioned Cush earlier... The soaking, slop-eating blood-traitor who soiled himself at the sight of a bloated floater stood before him with his hands on his hips. See, the Lamanites don't like him, either.

Search Your Feelings

A writer and nothing else:  a man alone in a room with the English language, trying to get human feelings right.

~John K. Hutchens, New York Herald Tribune, 10 September 1961

 I am getting The Inn ready for submission, diving into another edit. It is the sequel to The Orchard and centers around Elizabeth Embry, Alisen's older, snobby, successful sister. It had to be different because Elizabeth is such a different character from Alisen. Alisen was so open and searching. Elizabeth is closed and cautious, skeptical. Alisen had never been away from home. Elizabeth is hardly ever home. Alisen had innocence. Elizabeth has been there, done that. It was very interesting, finding her story. But they both had their childhood, shared the pain of the loss of their mother, and, though Elizabeth's awareness of it is latent, are looking for home... a place to belong.
The Inn has been my most difficult novel to write so far. It was my first novel without a definite inspiration (The Orchard was based on Jane Austen's Persuasion) and so I still worry about where it goes, plot and conflict. But I do love the emotion, because Elizabeth is so guarded. I loved having her true feelings forced to the page. So, while I struggle with the twist and timing, here is a snippet of emotion I do like. The X's are to eliminate a spoiler.

 

She flipped on the entry light and looked around.  The cathedral ceilings made the room feel extra large, or maybe she just felt small tonight.  The furniture was simply arranged in front of the fireplace on the right wall, and the back windows overlooking the golf course were black, only reflecting the room and her own image.  She took a deep breath and headed for her bedroom.

She hung up the dress in her closet, set down her bag, and sat on the bed.  Her heart began to thud a little too uncomfortably and she took another breath.  Gripping her phone, she pressed the button.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Paul.”

“Liz.  How are you?” 

She pictured his smile. 

She breathed as she spoke, trying to hide the rapid movement she felt from her heart to her throat.  “I’m good.  I’m sorry I couldn’t return your call earlier.  I’ve been on the road.”

“Where to this time?”

“Actually, not too far.  XXXXXXXXX.”

There was a pause.  “Well, that’s great.”

“Yes, it is.”  She tried not to overdo the enthusiasm as she smiled.  “It was lovely.”

“Good, Liz.  Man, its great to hear your voice.”

Something occurred to her.  She looked at the clock.  “Are you still in Hong Kong?”

He laughed quietly.  “No.  I’m in Maine.  I opened a restaurant here a while back.”

“Oh.”  She hadn’t expected that.  “It’s still late, though.  I’m sorry.”  He didn’t say anything.  “Should I call back in the morning?”

“No, no, of course not.”

“So, Maine?”

“Yes.  An old friend of mine offered me a chance at his place and I couldn’t turn it down.  I missed the homeland.  And the restaurant is doing really well…”

He sounded as if there was more.  She waited, gently biting her manicured thumbnail.  “And…?”

He took a deep breath and she pictured him scratching his hair back and forth as he raised his eyebrows.  “…and, I’m getting married, Liz.”

She blinked and felt heat rising up her neck, then her face.  She didn’t breathe as her mind flipped like a deck of cards, too fast to land on something to say.

“I wanted to tell you… before you heard it from somebody else.”

She nodded, somehow finding her voice.  “Anyone I know?”

“No, no.  She’s a schoolteacher here in Maine.  She’s… she’s really great, Liz.”  His voice was gentle, not boasting. 

Elizabeth swallowed, hoping that would affect the water accumulating in her lower lids.  It didn’t.  “I hope she is.” 

They were silent for a few stretched moments.  Finally, he spoke.

“Liz… I,” he cleared his throat, “take care of yourself, okay?”

She nodded.  She was good at that.  “Paul?”  A rough rock lodged in her throat. 

“Yes?”

 She felt the hot, unwelcome sting of a tear escape down her cheek.  “I hope everything works out… with the restaurant, and… everything.”

“Thanks, Liz.”  He paused.  “Liz?”

Couldn’t she just go, now?  “Uh-huh?”

He hesitated, then whispered low, “You’re more than you think you are.”

Her hand came to her stomach as if she’d been hit, and she tried to swallow.  He had said those words to her before, in a much different situation.  She had to let them sink in once more. 

Finally, she whispered back, “Goodbye, Paul.”

“Goodbye.”

She hit cancel and dropped the phone.  She sat there holding her stomach, holding back the tears, steadying her breathing.

 Twenty minutes later, she slowly got up and changed into her nightgown, skimming past the shimmering red kimono robe, noting to herself that she could never wear it again, and hating herself for being that sentimental.

She climbed into bed, set her alarm, pulled the light covers up, and closed her eyes.  An hour later, the silent sobs came when she was too tired to fight them any longer.

And she knew her cries weren’t just for him.

Emotion is such a personal thing to write. How do you take words and form them into feelings, while staying true to the character? Share your thoughts.

Shouting It!

It happened! It happened IT HAPPENED!!!  

"Congratulations! Today we officially accepted The Orchard for publication. It's a unique story that captured our imagination, and we love the way you crafted and developed both the plot and the characters. Your revisions were excellent, and we are pleased to be able to bring your book to the LDS market." 

It looks like The Orchard will be out for your reading enjoyment Spring/Summer 2011!!!!!!!!!!!! It's still sinking in. I jumped around too much after dinner. Side-ache. It's a good side-ache, though. I love the look on my husband's face. He totally loves this for me.

Thank you, Covenant Communications and the readers! Thank you, Kathryn Jenkins! I can't wait to meet my editor! My head is spinning... ahhhhhh!

The Best Books Club- December Selection

The Art of Civilized Conversation, by Margaret Shepherd
In our fast-paced, electronic society, the most basic social interaction (talking face-to-face) can be a challenge for even the most educated and self-assured individuals. And yet making conversation is a highly practical skill: those who do it well shine at networking parties, interviews, and business lunches. Good conversation also opens doors to a happier love life, warmer friendships, and more rewarding time with family.

For those intimidated by the complexity of personal interaction, or those simply looking to polish their speaking skills, The Art of Civilized Conversation is a powerful guide to communicating in an endearing way. In its pages, author Margaret Shepherd offers opening lines, graceful apologies, thoughtful questions, and, ultimately, the confidence to take conversations beyond hello. From the basics (first impressions, appropriate subject matter, and graceful exits) to finding the right words for difficult situations and an insightful discussion of body language, Shepherd uses her skilled eye and humorous anecdotes to teach readers how to turn a plain conversation into an engaging encounter.

Filled with common sense and fresh insight, The Art of Civilized Conversation is the perfect inspiration not only for what to say but for how to say it with style.

Applying the Science to the Art, and Hiccups

I try to leave out the parts that people skip.  ~Elmore Leonard

 I recently asked the great editors of Writing on the Wall about transitions between sequels. I know we are to be careful with too much backstory, often referred to as "info dump", and flashbacks. So, how does that translate in a sequel, where characters are re-introduced, time has passed since the last book came out, and you want to bring the readers up to speed without causing them to get out the first book and look things up to remember, but you also don't want them to sigh and think, "Yeah, I remember all this, blah blah blah, skip to next scene."
I have come across both in the many series I have read. How do you find that happy place in-between? The smooth transition?
This summer I finished a really lengthy novel, 748 pages, called Remnant. It's a speculative novel about what happened after the final battle at Cumorah in the Book of Mormon. My friend Norma had just split her WIP into two sections and is adding a third book and I borrowed her idea. It worked. Halfway through Remnant I found the perfect leaving off/starting up again point in the story. A 2-part series.

But now I need to apply the advice given me. Heather B. Moore, the author of Abinadi and Alma, among other series, replied to my question and I hope she doesn't mind me sharing her advice,(paraphrased). As I edited the "jump" from one book to the other, I kept in mind what the reader would need or want to be reminded of, and made those changes. The example below are from Remnant, Book II.

-Use internal dialogue and very short explanations.

She nodded, barely making out his silhouette in the shelter.  She yawned loudly.  “I am ready.” She trusted Muhozheena, one of the leaders of these people who had found them in a darkest hour, helped them though they were strangers to this land of boiling mud and bursting steam. They had saved Teomni’s life. And Zerom’s.

-Do not, as the author, veer from the action or dialogue too long. This is when skimming occurs.

“Sho?”

“Mm?”

“Do you have a longer name, like the others?  Pengwi is Mane…Manegitepengwi.  Bigwiyaa is Bigwiyaahio.  And… Wahatewe… Wahatewe…” she blew out a breath and Sho laughed.

“Wahateweduhbiaisa.”

“Yes.”  She pointed to him as they dropped over the bank.  “Sho…?  Shomaniwayatuka?”

He laughed again, shaking his head.  They knelt down and washed the cups and pot. She would learn these names, if only to show her gratitude to this people, to address them with her respect.

“Shohopanogua.”  He sat back and reached his hand against the trunk of the young tree above them.  “Shohopanogua.”  He shook the trunk and looked up.

She repeated him.  “Shoho-panogua.”

He smiled and nodded, and patted the tree.

“You are named for that tree?”

He nodded, then turned to go back to what was left of camp.

-Use dialogue to remind readers.

Lahonti was quiet.

“What of Kirianah?”  There, he had said it.

“What of her?” 

Limhi noted the softening of his son’s tone. “Do you love her?”

Lahonti stopped, and Limhi turned around.  He heard the steps of Nawatweda pause.

Lahonti put his hands at his hips and looked away.  “Of course I do.”

Limhi stepped to him.  “My son, I know you have refused to consider what I talked to you about so many years ago.  But, if the time of danger has passed, don’t you think—“

“She thinks of me only as a brother.”  Lahonti walked past him and motioned Nawatweda on.

Limhi sighed.  He could not argue.  He followed and noted they were climbing up a ravine, out of the canyon.

“You have not shown her any other behavior.”

“There were times, I tried.  We have been raised together in war.  What else do we know?”

-Bring out an article to remind readers of a previous incident.

He gently laid her down and reached for his pack.  He drew the attention of Sho and Pengwi as he withdrew the carving, the deer he had brought out of the boral wood so many months ago.  He dug and found his knife.

Zerom returned to his place at Kirianah’s side and ran his hands over the wood of his home, over the progress he had made along the way.  His fingers ran over the animal’s eyes, and he caught his breath.  He began to work, occasionally pausing to brush the shavings in a small pile.

Pengwi brought him a bowl of some sort of stew.  He smelled berries and meat, but kept his focus.  Sho offered him water, and he did pause to drink, and nodded his thanks to Sho, then furrowed his brow and went back to work, the pile of shavings growing.

Finally, he stopped, and turned the carving in his hands.  Sho nodded across from him.  It was not finished, but he would save it for another time.  He set it down and carefully gathered up the shavings.  He motioned to Pengwi, pointing to the bowl.  Pengwi quickly got him what he wanted, and Zerom dropped the shavings into the empty horn bowl.  He picked up the still smoldering herbs and blew on them, holding them over the shavings.  He blew again, and glowing particles swirled and dropped into the bowl.  He continued, until the tiny embers were enough to start a thin line of smoke from the shavings.  He softly inhaled.  It was enough.

Carefully, he lowered the bowl close to Kirianah’s face, and wafted the herbs through the wood smoke.  Boral wood, the smells she had described of her father’s workshop. He did this patiently, hope drifting through him like the scent filling his memories.  He watched her face.

I will keep trying, but I am so grateful for the good advice I am finding. I will need to apply the same thing to The Inn and The Lake. I already know I have my work cut out for me. Info-dump sites.
BTW, still no word from the editors on The Orchard, but I am keeping busy and looking forward to the holidays. Still a little wring of my hands and an occasional brain hiccup, like yesterday when I was leaving Albertson's, my mind on the book, and I turned into the very wrong lane, facing down a mac truck across the intersection. Fortunately the light was red, and I was able to find my lane, with my hand over my face, and get out of there, wondering if I could change the color of my car and apply for a new license number.
As my friend Matt would say, it's all good.

I Chose This

A critic can only review the book he has read, not the one which the writer wrote.  ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook, 1960

I have heard from the editors. They are ready to take The Orchard to the managing committee for final review. So, as per their request, I am making an itemized list of the revisions they asked me to make and how I addressed them, so they have the list there as they go through the book again.
The quote above is from a work titled, as you can see, The Neurotic's Notebook.

Mm-hmm, yep.
I think it's a good, nervous anxiety, though.
Back to work.