I always type my title first for my blog posts, and it was going to be titled No News on the Writing Front, but then I remembered something that was slightly newsworthy, so I tacked on a few more words.
It's funny, all my work starts with a title, EXCEPT for the novel I am shopping around right now. I never had a title for that one, until my best friend suggested it after being my first beta reader.
And that leads me to my tiny little item of note. I now have a THIRD work in progress. I came up with the title out of the blue a while ago, and now I can't stop building the story in my mind. So there you go. Two YA novels in progress, one very edgy, one edgy-ish, but not nearly as much as the first, and a middle grade novel. And all have titles, but very little else. The very edgy one is a title and a brief synopsis. The less edgy one has a title and 8,000 words. The middle grade novel has a title and 1,200 words. Can one actually write three different works at once without ending up with three crappy pieces of well...you know? What do you think?
On the home front, I came home from work last night to find that my husband had decorated the house for the holidays. The bannisters had green ribbon and white lights wrapped around them all the way down, and red velvet bows here and there. Our living room has a nine foot tree all decked out in lights. It was absolutely beautiful. I was so pleased with my husband. He hit it out of the park again. He's really a lovely person. If it were all up to me, nothing would ever get decorated and we would live in a pit, I kid you not. But he's really motivated about most things, and I can always count on him to do things right. I'm really happy.
The girls were beside themselves when they saw the decorations. I told them we'd have to take them down after New Year's, but that we got to enjoy them for a month, and to thank Daddy when he gets home.
Something creepy: Four police officers were shot dead, ambush style, yesterday in a town south of Tacoma. The suspect was supposedly holed up in the Leschi neighborhood (a neighborhood I find myself in at least twice a week) but after an hours long standoff the cops found that he had escaped. When I got off work last night I was inordinately freaked out walking to my car. I felt like I was being watched the whole time, but there were other people walking to their cars so I just basically sprinted to mine and took off. Then I read about this story, and an update says the dude was spotted AT MY WORK this morning at 7:00 AM, and he GOT AWAY AGAIN. Apparently he was shot during his ambush of the cops and they think he's trying to get medical care. Here's what I would do if I was him: wait for someone in scrubs to come out to the parking garage alone, then snatch them and make them fix up my wounds, and then, you know, who knows what after that. I wonder if he was lurking around all night last night, waiting for an opportunity. So freaky. I bet I could write a book about that. But I won't. It's SO not my genre.
198,000 words. Am I dead from the get-go? - Janet, based on your New Leaf page, it looks like my debut novel isn't for you; but I wondered if you might nonetheless consider my query question. It co...
11 hours ago