A writers life WIP

I just had to write an insanely hard to write chapter. Well, really it was just the ending of the chapter that had me so irrate. I am trying to sooth myself by explaining, yes to myself, that it was a realistic decision my Heroine made.
I always have to ask myself while writing, "Casse, would you ever make that choice and is it realistic?" In this case I had to say HECK NO I would never make that decision but quickly had to tell myself that it was a realistic choice. Though this heroine has a lot of my qualities...we aren't the same. Our fears drive us to do completely different things and because we are so much a like on somethings its harder to get in her head.
Truth is, I would make a horrible romance novel heroine. Even though I have some of the traits (don't laugh at what follows. Well, go ahead its pretty hilarious.) I am a sexy bookish nerd who is shy but head strong but has no idea how truly gorgeous she is. I am smart but insecure but that is where good rom heroine trait ends. I have a smart mouth and I hate being told what to do. I don't take much crap and I am boring as hell. So yeah no novel would ever be written about me.
Cheers!
Casse

1-2 combo

When you first decide to write a book it seems so simple. Hey I'll just tell the story. You imagine yourself original with a unique writing style. You want one of a kind characters. I know I did and deep down in that shiney and new part of me, I still do. I want a hero-heroine 1-2 punch combination. To the point that from when they are together it's where you say "Wow, they just work." There is no triangle. No other pieces fit in there two-piece puzzle. Just him and her the end of the story. Well, uh not quite. There actually has to be more to that story. But not some lame as petty differences or minute lie that is written bigger than it is. My 1-2 combo know they are supposed to be together they just have to figure out, how.
They need to figure out how to make it when their only problem is them.

Well, that's the goal. The bar has been set. The only question is, can I do it?

Outlining, I get it now.

Outlining, I get it now.

I can totally see why people outline their stories first. Wowza! I just did (for the first time). And it really helps. It clarifies how you want things to go. It is so much better than writing blind with no real aim. Writing blind makes the story and characters scattery. Dang! Also, outlines are fun. Nobody told me that. They sure weren't fun in school. But I feel like I just read an awesome book.
So many ideas flowed out on how I wanted the story to go and what I wanted to tell in the story. This rocks! I shall do it more often!
It's my fault. People have always told me to do outlines but did I listen? No. Why? Well because I'm stubborn and lazy. Also, I just wanted to let it flow. But what I didn't think ah flow where Casse!? And how? Now this is an outline for a story that I wrote then lost. It was tragic! I was devastated. I am debating going back and outlining all my unfinished projects so I can actually "unstuck" myself and get them done.

In other news. I just received the best inspiring words. My official author girl crush, Jeri Smith-Ready put the idea that one day aspiring writers will be inspired by me. WHAT A THOUGHT! And she Tweeted it. So yeah people. It's out there. Google logged it. Google Jeri's name and CatholicKittie, BAMM! It's there. Not sure I believe her incredibly sweet and kind words, but coming from someone I respect and admire. It sure is the niiicest thing to hear. If I can make anyone love a book and reading 1/4 as much as she can I will have done what I set out to do. Write a story I feel is worth telling and reading.
I guess I should mention, the compliment was semi-solicitated. It was in twitter response to a blog I wrote. But whatever I takes it!
Ciao.
　

Queen of Procrastination

Whoa I really am the Queen of Procrastination! I was supposed to be writing this blog about how I was supposed to be POSTING a blog about a friend of mine’s doubt in my romance novel writing skills but I hadn’t formed it outside of my head yet so it would have to wait until tomorrow and guess what? I got sidetracked with YouTube and twitter while I was supposed be writing this blog. Imagine that procrastinating writing a blog about procrastination. That is bad.
Speaking of twitter. I fought joining Twitter for so long and for what? I love rambling and I love being nosey in people’s lives. So you would think Twitter and I are a perfect fit. And we are. So what took me so long to realize. I can tweet with random strangers while responding to famous people who have no clue who I am and could careless if I respond to their Tweet or not, but still I do it. I love it lol.
Ok I might as well get on with the lack of “experience” on writing a sex scene for my book. Okay, yes as my friend so rudely pointed out, I obviously am not going to write them based on anything in my life. As he would say and I quote, “What the hell does a twenty-six year old virgin know about writing hott sex? You even told me you skip all those pages when you read them. You, a romance writer? There was a time when you hated and refused to read a book with any romance in it at all.”

I am a writer, or so I like to tell myself. I write a lot of things I have never seen or felt, but I can imagine. That's all I do! I live many stories in my head when I am laying in bed while I am supposed to be trying to fall asleep. And I am a girl I think I can come up with hotness in the romance department if I really want to think about it. Heck, I am the girl who wrote about her first time for an anthology (that never came out) when it hasn’t even happened yet. Lol. And Hello I have changed a lot in 6 years. I didn’t like romance books at 20 or was it 22? I am 26 years old now. Things change. And maybe I will start reading entire books now, no skipping “those” pages. But in my defense I am not a prude but why the heck does it have to be so long? How long do you really want foreplay and sex to go on before it just gets tedious? Seriously ladies! Come on. Maybe it’s just me. And above all I am a writer…it’s my job to sell it and make you believe it. And I will! So there! And also His last thing was. “Can I read that story you wrote about your first time?” My answer to him was No! But yall can. Of course I didn't use my real name in it though because that seemed too weird to me but here it is. And no it's not pages and pages of pointless imagery nor is there any flicking of man boobs.
　
I didn’t Mind
I lost my virginity to Aaron Neville’s “Feels like rain”. Now there are much worse songs to lose it to, but honestly I can’t think of one better. It was a dark but warm night. The sky was very clear and the stars winked down at us. Well me, since I was the one in the position to see them. My back lay pressed against the solid wood of the picnic table in his backyard. The blanket we used for the table cloth was cool against my bare back. I was not married like I always imagined I would be, no. Neither was I a wide doe-eyed school girl. I was 25 years old for goodness sakes. I was not naïve in what this meant. There was no make believe promises of forever. Because knowing me, I would have kept my clothes on and left if he did make, what I would consider, false promises. Love had long since broke my faith in forever. I was jaded. Many would be surprised that I was in this situation.
I was with a man that I trusted enough to give him a part of me I held back from everyone else. And maybe it was the beers we had had that night, or heck it could have been the song itself. It has a way of making you feel, just coveted on a warm balmy night. Which ever the case, the mood was right, the soft lips that was his kiss on my neck was right. The strong and gentle hands on my hips…were just right. And with him, it felt…I don’t know. Just, well, right.
I felt the weight of him, and I didn’t mind it. I felt his touch, somewhat greedy but still patient, and I didn’t mind it. The pain, which I had been warned of all my life, yet I still was not prepared for how severe it was. The friction inside of something that had remained empty for 25 years. Suddenly being rubbed and filled over and over repeatedly. That I did mind. And if it weren’t for his warm hands holding my hands above my head against the table and his mouth against my lips in a passionate kiss, I would have most likely pushed myself free from the torture I was allowing him to put me through. But then again, with one look in his eyes I probably wouldn’t have. His eyes never left my face. Which, okay was a bit creepy yes, but again…I didn’t mind. All I could do is lose myself in his face and not think about the pain that made me want to punch him across his jaw. I saw a spark in his eye and his hands tightened over mine and finally he just lay over me and then after a few seconds where I thought I was going to suffocate to death because his weight kept me from breathing, he rolled over and pulled me into him. Tight, snug against his chest. And as much as I hate to be touched much less embraced this tight and close. I didn’t mind. That is when I realized what love meant for me. The not minding. And it hit me like a brick. Damn. I was in love with this man. Crap. What was I going to do? I knew what other girls did when they were in love, but anybody who ever met me knows right off I am not other girls. I felt him looking at me so I forced myself out of my head and reminded myself, I was here in his arms. Ignoring the instant eruption of butterflies, I focused on him.
“Okay, normal I,- It’s not normally that brief.”
I shrugged against him. “Hey I do not mind at all. Trust me for a girl who is losing her virginity the shorter the better. So I appreciate it.”
He looked at me. “Are you trying to help?”
“YEAH! I’m just saying the shit hurt, so I am glad its over.”
“KAYE! What the hell?”
I looked at him confused. “What did I say?”
He laughed softly. “I am your first, so I have an obligation to you know, put it down. And you tell me you just wanted it to be over.”
I grimaced. “Okay, yeah that sounds bad, but it is not at all like that. It just hurt, a lot. Hey I was just trying to help you feel better about it not being your usual marathon okay?”
He just looked at me with pretend anger. So I continued. “If it helps you are the best I ever had.”
At that his loud laughter filled the warm night air as well as vibrated my cheek as it rested against his chest and warmed my heart as well. I grinned against him. He put his arms around me and held me tight. And of course I didn’t mind.