Not-So-Calm November Eve: Assassin Photoshoot and an Explanation

At 4:13 PM on the sixth of November, a teenage maniac dressed in a black turtleneck, black breeches, high black boots, black gloves, and a black beret, was seen in the back garden of the Lewis home. It alternately tramped through the weeds, carried around handfuls of broken glass and asparagus berries, and ripped morning glory tendrils off the barn walls. The siblings who sighted it did not seem concerned. Regardless, we will keep you updated on the doings of this strange creature. A lookalike was spotted wearing a white hoodie and striped sweatpants, but upon investigation it claimed to be a writer, and anyway it was eating chocolate and could not be bothered.

This stemmed from my absolute and total frustration with my writing, my graphic art, and my laundry. In a fury of jilted creativity, I yanked my pirate boots and leather gloves out of my closet, pulled a black turtleneck and breeches out of my dresser drawers, and donned a black beret from my mom's closet.

I had noticed several days ago that the back garden would make an absolutely idyllic photoshoot location, either for something wistful and nostalgic or for a desolate, dystopian-style set. Given my mood, dystopian it was.

And slightly evil. Yes, those are asparagus berries, and they are not as poisonous as they look, though "mild gastrointestinal distress" is a threatening sort of phrase.

This is the smile you hope to never see me use.

And the Head Tilt of Impending Doom. Similar to but not to be confused with the Nostril Flare of Total Rejection (kudos to anyone who gets that reference.)

Several of these shots couldn't decide whether they were artsy or just badly aimed, as I had no one behind the camera and a grocery bag encasing it to protect it from the rain that stopped three minutes after I got outside.

Suggested music for this image: 528491 from the Inception score.

 I like the hyper-focus on this one, almost like that moment of adrenaline-induced alertness just before someone jumps out at you. Namely me.

Obligatory shots of the props, just because they were turning out so nicely and because I was tired of seeing my over-dramatic face.

Ahh, you were expecting an explanation of some sort? Why, may I ask? Oh, right, the title. Well, anyway. This is my excuse for not posting for several weeks and not having the rest of the contest winners up by now.

This, my friends, is the entire second draft of Wings of Hope, the first book in the Wings Trilogy. This being the first time it has existed in its entirety in hard copy. I was giddy the entire day. I had rushed to finish it the night before, on the prompting of my mother who offered me a trip to St. Louis as incentive for finishing it on time. The very next day, we arrived at the print shop. And THIS came out of that printer.

272 pages. 142,000 words. My first novel. Ever.

Yes. I am far too excited and took far too many pictures. Sue me.

 Those of you on Facebook have likely already heard about this, but not in connection with my inactivity or my negligence in the short story postings. This is my reason. Well, that, and this little gem of annoyingness right here:

That's right - my first ever attempt at NaNoWriMo. But I couldn't just do NaNoWriMo, oh no. I had to bend the system. So that's me attempting to write 15,000 words instead of 50,000 words in a month. I only need 500 words a day. Ha ha, law-abiding NaNoers. (Never mind that I'm behind anyway. My plot was eating itself like a literary version of Ouroboros.) This is my attempt at a Five Glass Slippers story, a contest for retellings of the fairy tale Cinderella, which closes on December 31st. Yes, I know I'm insane. I had a dream with a concept I couldn't resist.

So. This is how this is going to work:

1. I scream and everyone else fangirls and nothing gets done.
2. I realize that nothing is getting done.
3. I buckle down on NaNo, taking a break from the novel while my mom marks it up.
4. During December, I edit both the novel and the short story, fixing any glaring errors and shining it up a little.
5. I print out additional copies of Wings of Hope.
6. Wings of Hope goes to the draft readers probably near Christmas, and the short story goes to the judges.
7. I scream and everyone else fangirls and nothing gets done.

The posting on this blog will likely pick up again during or after December. Apologies to all those waiting for the additional results of the contest.

If you are one of my trusted draft readers, you probably know who you are and have poked me incessantly for months. If you don't know who you are, don't despair. You will find yourself shortly. (Actually, a few copies will also go to some die-hard fans and other friends who have been waiting, so until the list is finalized and all my emails sent, don't assume you're not getting one. Unless you don't know me. Then that would be creepy.)

(Like an assassin. Heh heh.)

(Oh yeah. All these images [except the ones of my story] are under Creative Commons. Which basically means you can use them for whatever you like without asking or crediting me, though I would love to see what you come up with. If you want unedited and/or larger versions of any of these [excluding, once again, the pictures of my story] comment and I'll see what I can do.)

E

For Want of a Horse

So Jennifer Frietag over at the Penslayer recently did a post about the horses in her novel cast. Me, being lazy and also a copycat, thought "Oh, that looks fun. I think I'll spend way too much time looking for pictures of my own horses."

So either my mind was stuck in an earlier draft, or absent altogether, because after scraping all over the internet looking for pictures of one horse, I found the right one and turned back to my list - only to find that I have a mere six named horses in my current draft of 250,000 words plus. Six. That splendid Frietag woman also has pedigrees and histories and what-have-you for all of hers. Dang.

Not to be deterred, I dug up some horses from earlier drafts and figured I'd use them. Some of them were actually indignant at being bothered. Nevertheless, here are the most prominent horses in the Wings trilogy. (No, none of them are pegasi. I would have a lot more to post if we were doing dragons. Hence the wings part.)

Cascade is the first horse we meet. She, along with the next two, were bought on the black market by a desperate Arionwyn. The seller swears up and down she's been trained for battle, but Cascade is just an all-around sweetie. She was originally Aaron's horse - their personalities suited each other - but he gave her to Iri in an emergency and after that Iri refused to ride another horse into battle. Big-boned with plenty of stamina, she's a good one to have around when you're running from something.

 Lyric is the second of the three horses bought on the black market. To buy a decent horse in the Andunian-occupied city, you must have identification and valid travel papers, of which Arionwyn has neither.  Which is why she went to the black market and risked being sold nags. Lyric is no nag, but her wall eye doesn't exactly bode well - many consider it bad luck and with a personality like Lyric's, it's no wonder she ended up in the Underlevels. She and Earis tolerate each other - barely. She's feisty and unpredictable, but if you get her riled and point her in the right direction, you'll have a fast ride. Like, really fast. For a long time.

This is Spear, Arionwyn's mount throughout the trilogy, when she's not riding Smoky. He's big and friendly and easygoing, but can't be broken of the habit he has of nosing into your pockets looking for treats. He's a good match for Arionwyn because he tolerates everything, from depressing mood swings to overdone affection. Unfortunately, we don't see as much of him once Arionwyn gets a dragon. Earis does threaten to drown him in the river once, though, and that has to count for something.

Paintbrush is one of the horses I dug up from a former draft. Also the one who complained the loudest. A shaggy palomino pony with the typical shaggy-pony personality, he served as the comic relief on the now-obsolete Great Dragon Egg Quest. When the party came short of horses due to a wolf attack, it was immediately suggested that Aaron ride Paintbrush. I'll leave it to your imagination whether he let that happen.

Whisper, Fairivel's battle mount, is a light draft red roan and an oxymoron. Fairivel confessed in my interview with him that Whisper is one of the loudest horses he's ever heard and that whoever named him should be sold to the pirates. Despite that, Whisper is a very dependable horse and trained exceptionally well. He's quite fearsome (and loud) in battle.

Amulet, on the other hand, is Clark's battle mount. A huge bay stallion, he plows through just about anything you put in front of him, including enemy armies. The big problem is stopping him. He's one of the finest palace-bred battle horses until the second battle, when Klista used weird magic on him and makes him go crazy. After crushing Clark's left wrist, he's retired to stud - but many of his foals carry a tendency to go insane at just the wrong moment.

                                                                                                                                             Galaxy is Clark's backup horse, so to speak. With Amulet out of commission, he turns to her - a sometimes-skittish mare with a swirl of quite spots on her rump. Despite her refusal to go anywhere near dogs, stained-glass windows, or fallen logs, she's street smart and takes care of her royal rider.    

Well, that's it. All six of the ones that exist and one that doesn't. (Now the pony is complaining.) Perhaps next time I do one of these, I'll have more than seven...

Intelligence

I've given in. I've become Sherlocked.

It wasn’t entirely my fault. Pinterest and my friends kept giving me perfectly logical reasons for doing so, and no one gave me a good reason not to, besides the unlikely one that my heart would be ripped out and I would be left to die on the floor. (Although, now that I have watched the last episode, I find this very nearly true.)

But Mr. Sherlock Holmes has got me thinking. He always does. I have no illusions about my powers of deduction – they’re pretty weak. But when I started reading the stories and watching the series, I would always wonder what he would see if he met me, came to our house. What he would be able to read in us that others never see.

I imagine him darting round my room, possibly studying my lifeless body crosswise across my wrinkled bedcovers with his neat little collapsible magnifying glass, looking very tall in his long black coat under our short ceilings. He’d straighten up and turn to John Watson, who’d be waiting patiently or not-so-patiently in the doorway for an explanation. “Clearly, a young writer.”

“But – how do you know that?”

Sherlock would turn back to my room, pointing his long fingers at various objects as he grudgingly clarifies things. “Dust on the shelves, the books, but not on the laptop, suggesting frequent use by a forgetful or distractible person. A large collection of music on CDs as well. An enthusiast, maybe, but there’s dust on those too; she migrated to digital music soon after the purchase of her laptop. Likewise with the notebooks. They’re well-used but dusty. From the fingerprints on the mirror – two or three younger siblings, one of whom she shared the room with. Once a horse enthusiast but she grew out of that, since most of those books are gone except her very favorites, which are on the top shelf, not easily accessible but still there to admire, but that's irrelevant. From her sedentary lifestyle, the contents of her laptop and the callus just in front of the first knuckle on her right middle finger, she’s a writer.”

In a way this relates to our characters. We always see things in them that the readers never will – little flaws that aren’t visible, pieces of backstory that aren’t really important. But Sherlock got me thinking about my characters in a different way.

As a character, Sherlock is pretty much the epitome of the trait of intelligence. He blows us away with the pure power of his brain. He’s insulted when people around him cannot see – pardon me, observe – the details his mind takes in and intersects so easily.

This is not a post about a fandom, nor about the subject of the fandom. This is a post about intelligence.

in·tel·li·gence

noun
1.capacity for learning, reasoning, understanding, and similar forms of mental activity; aptitude in grasping truths, relationships, facts, meanings, etc.

I was reading a post on Holy Worlds about allowing for stupidity, particularly within the field of military operations. The example the author made was one where a group of soldiers was set to march at a certain time, but decided to go earlier instead. It ruined a lot of stuff. The point she made – that we should make our characters human enough to blunder and spoil things out of stupidity or ignorance – stuck with me, combined with the opposite example of Sherlock, who uses his intelligence to fix things (well, usually.) This led to several points I thought it would be prudent to make about intelligence.

1. Intelligence is relative.

My dad is pretty much a genius. As a civil engineer, he daily processes things I can only imagine – advanced geometry, mathematical gymnastics, laws and ordinances and all the little things that make street plans work. But he’ll look at me playing the piano, shake his head, and say “That looks like magic to me.”

There’s no doubt in my mind that my dad is intelligent. Quite visibly so. But intelligence is relative depending on your location and what is happening. This is apparent in many stories just after the New World is introduced. This is the part where your hero encounters a whole world of possibility he never knew and isn’t prepared for. Imagine sending Sherlock through a portal to Middle Earth. What use would his specialized intelligence be there?

Often, intelligence is an overarching trait. It is an ability that helps your character to adapt to, learn from, and thrive in new situations. I can’t see Sherlock taking very long to figure out the new world and how it works, because he’s smart.

This point also applies to characters who are being compared to other characters. Dr. Watson is a prime example. He’s intelligent – as a doctor, he pretty much has to be – but next to Sherlock, his intellect pales. He is intelligent in a different area, and since his area is not the one being focused on, he usually only acts as a foil for Sherlock – someone on the level of the audience who is just as lost as we are.

This is another tactic commonly used for the introduction of the New World. If you have a character who is in some way equal to the audience enter the new setting, you can use him or her to explain things the other characters already know. Be careful to balance this, however, with your character’s already-existing specialty, so you don’t risk him looking stupid (something I’ve seen far too often.)

       2. Intelligence is dangerous.

Another somewhat unconventional example of intelligence is Haymitch. In this excerpt from Catching Fire, Katniss and Peeta ponder how Haymitch, whom they know as a crotchety drunkard, became a victor in the Hunger Games.

            Finally Peeta says, “That force field at the bottom of the cliff, it was like the one on the roof of the Training Center. The one that throws you back if you try to jump off and commit suicide. Haymitch found a way to turn it into a weapon.”

            “Not just against the other tributes, but the Capitol, too,” I say. “You know they didn’t expect that to happen. It wasn’t meant to be part of the arena. They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon… It’s almost as bad as us and the berries!”

It’s the same kind of intelligence that brought Katniss and Peeta out of the arena alive the first time. Quick adaptation to their position, then use of the available resources. And that’s part of what makes them so dangerous to the Capitol.

It’s not only the Powers That Be who are threatened by intelligence. The villains fear it too. A quick-thinking army captain with a small force can trounce, slow down, or harry a larger force with relative ease. A sharp commoner can cause trouble for the noblemen. And a brilliant detective can catch even the most furtive criminal. Fellow allies may be threatened as well - the intelligent character may make them feel incompetent, unimportant, or downright useless. Alienated allies are almost as dangerous as the baddies your hero is working to take down.

       3. Intelligence is exclusive.

The title of this point makes it sound like there’s some kind of club or something that no one can get into but exceptionally intelligent people. There’s a sense in which that’s true, but my real point is this: Intelligence excludes.

Think of how many intelligent people and characters you’ve heard of who are incredibly lonely. The artists, the geeks, the weirdos. The freaks. It also seems that the level of intelligence is relative to the level of exclusion. The ones who can pretend that they’re normal often pass themselves off as such, but the further up the scale you go, the harder it is to pretend.

            There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it. His parents called him Eustace Clarence and masters called him Scrubb. I can’t tell you how his friends spoke to him, for he had none.

One of my favorite things about the movie The Voyage of the Dawn Treader is how smart Eustace is. He keeps beetles in jars and has the mindset of a lawyer and speaks with a remarkable vocabulary. He also has no friends, not unlike a certain detective we all know and love. There is one stark difference between Eustace’s story and Sherlock’s, however. Eustace gains friends because he changes; even though he’s still smart, he’s less arrogant and superior. Sherlock gains friends (or a friend, singular) not because he changes, but because John comes to see him for who he is.

I’d like to draw another example, from a couple of my own characters. Iri and Fairivel. Father and son. Both are very intelligent. They're about as different as they could be. Fairivel is the ruler of Laecla, land of the elves, and he is known to be a fair man, an excellent ruler, and a superb diplomat. Iri is restless, always chasing after what will excite him next, extremely charming, and uses people shamelessly to get what he wants. Both are using their intelligence in a different way, but both have distanced themselves with it. Neither of them have many, if any, people who genuinely care about them for who they are.

     4. Intelligence is blinding.

How could I write a post about intelligent characters without mentioning a few of their faults? The blinding aspect of the title is meant to apply to other players in the story - and to the character themselves.

Think of Watson when he first met Holmes. He couldn't stop complimenting Holmes on his genius. But that wears off pretty quickly and we, through John, start seeing some of Sherlock's faults. He's arrogant, has no idea how to behave around people, and lacks basic knowledge of the solar system, among other things.

Then there's how the intelligent character views himself, especially in relation to other people. With a superior view of themselves, they may treat ordinary people with impatience or even scorn. (For a more complete list of intelligent characters and their positives and negatives, refer to this post over at The Bookshelf Muse.)

There's a more complicated type, for which I'm going to use yet another Sherlock example. When we meet the villain of the first episode, he is a singularly disappointing middle-aged cabby. But as the writers expound on him, his personality, his methods, you forget his exterior. You begin to see the mind behind it. By the time the episode ended, I'd forgotten how disappointed I was that the villain turned out that way. I was utterly fascinated by the twists of his mind. His intelligence had blinded me.


5. Intelligence is underused.

Before I stopped reading dystopian and the like, a friend recommended an interesting little book called Variant. Beyond the mysterious plot and the intriguing setting (an experiment disguised as a walled school where, once the students were in, they never got out and had no contact with the outside world) I remember that the main character, Benson Fisher, set himself apart from other heroes in YA literature in my mind. Because he was smart.

            The whole time we sat there I kept an eye on the trees. There were Society kids out there. One was at the tree line, patrolling on the back of a four-wheeler. I could hear a second one, but couldn’t see it.

            What would make them act like that? Why wouldn’t they just make a break for it?

            As I watched them I thought about what they’d need to have to keep the four-wheelers running: gasoline, oil, tools. All of that could help my escape.

As soon as he learned what was happening, he did exactly what I would have done. He started plotting to escape. I connected firmly with him through the book. He tried to break the other students free of their lethargy. He never missed an opportunity to gather supplies and investigate the terrain for his escape. I wanted to cheer for him.

Benson also lacked another common element of fictional heroes. He had no clever mentor hovering over him, pointing out his every flaw. While this is an effective way to introduce the reader to the world (a tactic often linked with the one I mentioned in the first section) I wish I saw more characters who could interact with the mentor on their own terms.

I'm not sure why I perceive a severe lack of intelligent YA characters. Maybe it's a result of the watered-down literature of our day and age. Maybe no one wants to write an intelligent character because they're simply hard to write. But implementing an intelligent character doesn't mean you have to write a superhero. You just need to do your research.

(I also compiled a list of characters I wanted to use for examples, but didn't get to. Since I didn't want to waste it, here they are:

            Kieran from The Restorer’s Son by Sharon Hinck

            Temeraire from His Majesty’s Dragon by Naomi Novik

            Claire from Outlander by Diana Gabaldon

            Kelsier from Mistborn: The Final Empire by Brandon Sanderson)

So what about you? Who's your most intelligent character? Do you recognize or use any of the methods I've mentioned here? Do you have anything to add?

Music for Monday: Character Theme 3

Sorry I'm late! We had a houseguest yesterday, and after that I was watching Sherlock. But I'm here today!

I've had this song set for this character almost as long as I've had the character himself. He's changed, but yet he's not. He's grown so much, on both sides of his character, but remarkably, this song still fits him. I can't help but think it always will, at least during this stage in his story.

Bring Me To Life ~ Evanescense

How can you see into my eyes like open doors?
Leading you down into my core
Where I've become so numb

Call my name and save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run
Before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become 

Iri as pianist Jarrod Radnich. Or is is Jarrod Radnich as Iri?

There's not much that can break my heart as thoroughly as this song when I'm thinking about Iri. This is what's behind his mask of wit and smiles, what feeds his hatred, makes him desperate. There are very few alive who have glimpsed this side of him, but it's the first key to understanding what he's become.

He's lived for fifteen years without love, surrounded by people who value him only for his powers. Since he chose to betray his loyalty to his land and the king's army, he has held everyone at a distance, including God. He believes himself irredeemable, and in his mind, it's made him invincible.

Without a thought

Without a voice

Without a soul
I've been living a lie

There's nothing inside

Please
Bring me to life

The first crack in his world is when he loses his powers - all of them. He was told he wasn't worthy to bear them, and it nearly destroyed him. After living like he has for so long, depending on his power to make him valuable, suddenly he is worthless in his own eyes.

The second crack come when Aaron follows him into the wilderness to kill him - and instead spares his life. Iri begins to watch Aaron closely, furious, puzzled, and wanting whatever Aaron has. His mask had slipped, his real self laid bare, and someone valued him still. Before the end, he has a choice to make...


This song is so perfect for Iri that it inspired some fan art. (I still can't get over that I have fans.) The wonderful R. S. Sharkey made this amazing wallpaper for me, based on this song. I love it to death.

Official Giveaway Post

Ok, so I'm tired of directing people to the post about the giveaway with all the clutter in it, so I'm going to make an Official Giveaway Post. Yes, this is two posts in one day. You're welcome.

Here is the original post, for those of you interested.

The reason:

I'll be attending my first ever writer's conference on August 2-3. The keynote speaker will be Jeff Gerke, so I'm giving away a copy of one of his books.

The prize:

Plot Versus Character by Jeff Gerke

"What's more important to a story: a gripping plot or compelling characters? Literary-minded novelists argue in favor of character-based novels while commercial novelists argue in favor of plot-based stories, but the truth of the matter is this: The best fiction is rich in both.
Enter Plot Versus Character. This hands-on guide to creating a well-rounded novel embraces both of these crucial story components. You'll learn to:

• Create layered characters by considering personality traits, natural attributes, and backgrounds
• Develop your character's emotional journey and tie it to your plot's inciting incident
• Construct a three-act story structure that can complement and sustain your character arc
• Expose character backstory in a manner that accentuates plot points
• Seamlessly intertwine plot and character to create a compelling page-turner filled with characters to whom readers can't help but relate
• And much more

Filled with helpful examples and friendly instruction, Plot Versus Character takes the guesswork out of creating great fiction by giving you the tools you need to inject life into your characters and momentum into your plots." (That's from Amazon, by the way. No need to thank me. ;))

Each participant will also receive an optional critique from me on the entry of their choice.

The rulez:

You may enter up to five stories (fiction, prose), as long as they are inspired by pictures from my Pinterest boards Waiting For My Pen or Souls.
Lower limit is 100 words, upper limit is whatever you like (just so long as it's not a novel. Yipe.)
You can write in any genre or even in no discernible genre at all.
Send your story/ies and attached picture/s to elizabeth liberty (at) hotmail (dot) com by Friday, August 2nd.
Include "Contest Entry" as your subject line.

The winners:
I will choose the three stories I like best (criteria are good writing, good characters, originality, uniqueness, and all that jazz) but I will also randomly pick three stories to go in with them. I will then randomly choose the final winner from that pool. The three best stories will go on the blog.

I got my first two entries today. YES! There are 35 days left, guys - plenty of time to pick out a picture (or two or three or five), write, and polish a little. And if you're tired of hearing about this already, well, too bad. ;)

Setting: Ballroom

Hey there guys! Today I'm going to do something a little different, something I've not done before but have been wanting to do for a while. I'm sure most of you writers have heard of The Bookshelf Muse (and if you haven't go check it out - it's an amazing resource.) Over there, they have a Setting Thesaurus I've been using extensively. (See this post if you're wondering exactly what a Setting Thesaurus is and what it's for.) They have a ton of locations - some of the ones I use most frequently are woods at night, mountains, and medieval marketplace. But soon, those weren't enough for me. I wanted more - especially fantasy-tailored settings, since they have a few but not that many. So I started making my own.

This is a ballroom setting  I thought up last night, with some help from my friend Meaghan over at Within the Writer's Wardrobe.

SIGHT:
rich fabric, embroidery, jeweled shoes, ladies laughing, gloves on elegant hands, curls of elaborate hairdos, band or orchestra playing, chandelier, flickering candles around the room, food laid out elegantly on side tables, balcony, bottles of wine, flowers, moonlight through open windows, ornamental knives or swords at men's waists, bead-encrusted dresses, filigree on walls and ceiling, gold-trimmed dishes, whirls of movement, made-up faces, sparkling jewelry, plants real or fake, musicians swaying, rows of tables, elegantly presented food, trickling fountain, stone steps or staircases, couples flirting or kissing in corners, benches in out-of-the-way places to rest

SOUND:
drums, fiddles, violins, singing, people laughing and talking, clapping, feet tapping on the floor, skirts swishing, familiar rhythms of songs, one-two-three beat of a waltz, music thrumming through the walls, murmured words in your ear, pouring wine, trickling water from fountain, tinkling chimes or bells, blowing curtains, chewing, doors opening and closing, welcome speach by host/hostess, tuning instruments, scrape of chairs, clinking of beads, soft breeze through stifling room, nervous tittering laughter, flames guttering, melting wax, clink of wineglasses


SMELL:
sweat, perfume, herbs, food, soup, wine, soap, starchy clean fabric, night air from the windows, warm earthy stone, fresh fruit and vegetables, bread, steam from various dishes, meat, pie, pastries, smoke, water, dust, oiled leather, fur


TASTE:
hors d'ouvres, sweat trickling onto your lips, cool night air, expensive wine, cool water, fruit, punch, flaky pastries, spices

TOUCH:
skirts swishing against your legs, swaying to the music, hand of your partner on your waist, bumping shoulders with people, toes stamped on, belly aching from laughter or too much food, wiping lips daintily with napkin, mincing along in expensive clothes, leaning against wall or railing, clothes scratching skin, finger of cool air from windows, dry mouth, nervousness in your stomach, clammy hands, prick of pins in hair, brushing along railing or door handle, being elbowed, colliding with someone in the crowd, serving yourself from dainty dishes, holding a gloved hand to your mouth to cover a laugh or yawn, blinking tired eyes, bracelet/necklace/other jewelry cool against your skin, tired legs, bowing/curtsying, thin stem of a glass in your fingers

So what about you? Have you used any of these setting thesaurus entries, and if so, which is your favorite? Can you think of anything else to add to this list? And what fantasy-themed location should I visit next?

I'M GOING ON AN ADVENTURE!

Yes, you heard me. After deliberations and exhortations and affirmations and quite a few confrontations....I am going to the conference.

I never in a million years expected everyone to be so supportive. Nevah-evah. And then things started happening...like my dad never even questioned that I should go, when I expected to have to explain things favorably to him. And it turned out that I wasn't going alone after all. And God kind of intervened.

I debated about posting this here, but I finally decided to. It's an excerpt from a notepad file I spill all my guts into when I feel like I can't hold them in any longer or I'll yell at someone. So I go yell in text. It works.

    So here I am again, because I need to think.
    Play the heroic music. Type whatever comes to mind. I would do this more often, if it didn't depress me so much.
    So. The conference.
    There's so much tied up in it. So many emotions, so much promise.
    There's not really anything to be afraid of. There isn't.
    Oh, that feels good. There's nothing to be afraid of, Elizabeth. E. My beloved.
    Is this my answer?
    Oh, God. Before I even ask. I'm going to cry. Before I can even bring out all my fears, untangle them and leave them in neat piles, You comfort me. I guess You don't need things neat and tidy, do You? Look at me. I'm a mess. And You love me.

That was when I really did start to cry. This is copied directly from that file, where I typed it as it came to me. It's not been touched by my red pen.

        My hands are shaking. I can't see the screen now but I touch-type, instinct guiding me. Instinct. My first instinct was to go. Isn't that what You gave them to me for? Trust your gut. Trust Me.
    My face is slick, tears and sweat. I wipe the dust off my keys in one shaky motion and reach for a kleenex, then almost laugh. I'm out of kleenexes.

    Let not your heart be troubled.
    That sounds like a choice.
    I choose. I choose.
    I choose not to worry about this. I choose to trust.
    What if the peace leaves me? I can remember. I can still remember.
    Even this could be a message. This gift I have for putting things into words, neat black characters across a neat white page, with all my emotions spilled across them like a shimmer you can see if you tilt it the right way. I have a talent. And I'm pretty sure I'm using it right. But this could be - this could be big.
    So.
    A decision here seems so final. I can't write it out. I can't.
    Can't I?
    I'll go.
    I'll go to Realm Makers.
    Don't think about it any more. Don't stew or fret or worry. Dinna fash yourself.
    I'll go.

As for not going alone...not only do I get to go with THIS lovely person (Kaitlyn/Airianna from The Rainbow in the Storm:

But THIS amazing person is coming as well (Meaghan from over at Within the Writer's Wardrobe, formerly from The Patriot's Call)!

So I'm still alternating between terror and feverish excitement, but since it's all set and final now, I'm going to celebrate with my first giveaway. Yes! A real one! With a real book you can hold in your hands! None of that e-book garbage. ;)

Turns out Jeff Gerke is going to be the keynote speaker at said dreaded and highly anticipated conference. In honor, I decided to give away a copy of his writing book, Plot versus Character, sure to appeal to any fellow writer. But this isn't any lazybones giveaway - you'll have to work for it.

I have here a link to a Pinterest board. Not just any Pinterest board - my Pinterest board, with all my writing prompts on it.

To enter, go to the board and choose a picture. It can be anything on the board. You don't even have to follow me (though you might get extra points if you do. Then again, maybe not.) Then write about it. It can be as short as 100 words or as long as 1,000. Even longer if you like. It should be prose, fiction, and can be any genre, as long as it's about that picture. You may enter up to five times, using five different pictures.

Now before you protest that you're not a very good writer, let me say that won't be the only criteria. For the final pick, I will choose three stories I like best - I'll be looking for good writing, good characters, originality, uniqueness, and all that jazz - but I will also randomly pick three stories to go in with them. I will then choose the final winner out of that pool.

But wait! There's more! Each entree will also get a critique from me on an entry of his or her choice, and the three best will have their stories published right here on this blog.

Just send your story/ies and attached picture/s to elizabeth liberty (at) hotmail (dot) com - no spaces - by Friday, August 2nd. Please include "Contest Entry" in your subject line and your name (or pen name) in the email.

I cannot wait to see what you all come up with!