Yes, I found another excuse to use a LOLCat picture. I like them. =P
I am supposed to be working on edits for Path of Angels #1, but I'm not. Instead, I opened out a story I wrote shortly after Being Human called Out of Secrets. It's YA (of course) and it had vampires in it too, but different vampires from the ones in Being Human. I set it aside after my writing partner, MB suggested I finish up any Being Human related stories because the switch in vampire lore might confuse readers. Her personal experience was she kept getting thrown off because Out of Secret vampires were different from Being Human vampires.
A few months later, my other writing partner, Daniel and I were talking and he helped me find a way to set Out of Secrets vampires more apart from Being Human vampires. Still, I held off on the story because I was working on Snapshots and hoping to get Being Vampire written and in the process of publishing.
What got me back into Out of Secrets? One reason was I'm not sure about Being Vampire. I think the plot is weak and there's too much inconsistency. Another reason is I stress myself out thinking about it and grind my writing to a halt. I envy writers who can write under pressure. The biggest reason I opened Out of Secrets was I didn't feel like working on Path of Angels.
I know, I'm horrible.
But opening Out of Secrets has reminded me of how much I love the story. Sometimes it's hard for me to get into editing because I'm dreading the notes from my writing partners. I lose enthusiasm for the story and when I find enthusiasm, it's like a breath of fresh air that motivates me. And let me tell ya, winter can really suck the motivation out of me. The coldness, lack of sun. I just want to lay around and sleep.
Just for fun, here's a little teaser from draft two.
A figure blocked my path when I turned to head home. My heart leapt into my throat, feet scrambling back. I lived in a small town, but that didn’t mean something bad couldn’t happen.
The figure moved closer, his footsteps silent. He looked my age, no more than nineteen. He was tall and lithe, a few inches taller than me. His skin was drained of all color in the white moonlight. Ebony hair reached to his chin, falling over one eye and leaving the other blue eye locked on mine.
Calm filled me as he approached. He stopped with inches between us, reaching up to touch a lock of my hair. His hand trailed down my face and goose bumps spread from his cold touch. No emotions or life registered in his eyes. I knew I should be alarmed and flee, but I was pinned by his gaze. I didn’t flinch when his lips parted to reveal long, sharp teeth.
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