First Draft of NanoWrimo Novel DONE!!!!!

Tis true. At about 9:50 tonight, I typed the last word of my NanoWrimo novel. I crossed the 50k mark on the 21st, and I finished the novel with 69,812 words; Microsoft had the count at 69,999. LOL

I am so beyond geeked, I can't stand it! :-)

I'll probably try to not look at the book for at least a day or so. While writing, I mentally edited and filled in material, and so I'm ready now to begin revising the work, but after 30 days of straight writing, I probably deserve a break from the novel.

Well, I'm gone to drink my Corona and grade a few essays. This is my celebration, *smirk*

I'm nosey; ergo, I'm a writer

Yes, I admit it; I'm nosey. Painfully so. All writers are, and if you are a writer and you don't believe that, then check out your local Writers' Anonymous--it's the first thing you have to admit about yourself.

Check it, I'm leaving my class today--a painful class I might add that just irritated me even more toward my students, but that's not the point (if my students are reading, yes, see, even I can veer off topic--doesn't make it right though).

Anyway, I'm walking across a parking lot, and I see this couple walking toward me. The guy is black, the girl, well, I'm not quite sure what she was. I'm thinking bi-racial. Anyway, I hear this buzzing, but it's not buzzing, it's the couple talking. I can't really make out what they are saying.

All of sudden, the guy stops almost right in front of me, turns to the girl, and says, "I don't want to be with you any more."

I'm like, WHAT? The girl is like, "What does that mean?" and then the conversation goes "buzzy" again (make note, ears need to be checked).

So do I keep walking and keep my nose out of it?

Nope, I proceed to walk toward this Man 2005 (one of those trucks with wheels taller than the height of an average man--HATE THEM!), and I peer around the truck at the couple. I still can't hear what they're saying for the buzzing, but arms are flailing, necks are rolling, and there's about 5 feet of distance between them. I stay there a good five minutes before limping myself (because of the bum left foot) to my office.

On the way to my office, I kept wondering what was going on with the couple, and instantly in my head, I thought of dialogue to fill in the buzz.

I know, I'm bad. I'm nosey. But don't we have to be as writers? Don't we need to taste all there is of the world so that we can write about it in a fresh, honest way that seems real to the readers?

Yeah, I know. I'm nosey, but I like my philosopy, and I'm sticking to it.

The moral of this story for writers: take in the world. listen. see. taste. smell. touch. think the WHAT IFs. write them down. You might be surprised at what might come out.

Case in point: I saw a couple. I heard, "I don't want to be with you any more." My brain thought this for starters:


"I don't want to be with you anymore," he spouted as I ran to catch up to him.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Why would you tell me that before I take the MCATs?" I try to button up my coat without dropping the books in my hands.

I wondered why Stan was being so closed-off to me the last week or two, and why this morning, the first morning in nearly four years, he did not come pick me up for class. I overslept, drove myself, and was chewed out by our paramedical biology professor, Dr. Stantabomb, or as I like to refer to him as, Dr. Stinkibomb.

"Girl, don't even trip," Stan said. "You're gonna pass that test."

I grabbed Stan's arm, flinging his books onto the parking lot.

"Damn it, Karen," he said. As he bent down to pick up the books, he added, "See, this is why..."

"This is why what?" I asked. "You don't want to be with me because I made you drop your books?"

He shook his head.

"You got eight seconds to tell me what's up before I start acting black." I flipped my long hair behind my ear.

Stan picked up the last of his books and gave me his WHAT THE... look.

"Eight seconds?" he said. "Most say 10."

"Well, I'm not most. I'm Karen Faison, so tell me, why don't you want to see me any more. Are you breaking up with me?"

He laughed, but there was nothing funny about the sound. "And you damn sure don't look black."

"Well, I am. What, you gonna start tripping about my color now?" I gripped my books and shook them in his face. "Stop changing the subject, Stanley Roberts Owens."

"Yo," he said, pulling me to him, "don't be calling me that."

"Why? Because it's your name?" I asked, laughing.

"You want to know why I don't want to be with you any more?" he asked. His face was stoic, his words crisp and biting. I stood there, silent, unsure what made him flip the script on me like that and unsure on whether I wanted to hear what he had to say.

"Yes," I squeaked out.

"You're plain," he said simply. "You're like an offbrand chocolate ice cream. The color's almost there, but the flavor ain't."

I could not believe that my friend for the last eight years, my boyfriend for the last two saw me in that way. At that moment, all I wanted was for a tornado to come and whip me up into the air and throw me back onto the ground, leaving me broken like Stan did.

The Post-Thanksgiving Blues

Yes, I've got'em. Those gobble gobble blues. Why, might you ask? Well, because of Hurricane Rita, we had T-day off, but not Friday. Friday was a writing day for my students, so I had them working on their essays over the T-day weekend. Therefore, I had a four-day break. With my bad foot and my overwhemingly increasing anxiety over finishing this semester, I ADORED my four-day break. I ate great food. The rest of my fam officially moved down here to LC, I got a lot of writing done, I rested, and I was just happy.

Today, it's back to the grindstone and the million and one things I have to do in my life, half of which I probably don't HAVE to do, but I can't say NO, and there is a crazy part of me that actually wants to DO, DO, DO, and so I do and end up having, as stated before, a million and one things to do. I'm not sure how much I'm digging my students now, I'm tired of feeling like I'm the only one in the classroom that wants to be there and hey, I have three billion degrees, so I'm not there for another one nor my health. I'm tired of feeling like I have to pacify the students, and I'm tired of the students thinking they need brownie points for even COMING to class, let alone formatting their essays correctly. It's tiring, and Xmas just can't come fast enough for me.

*taking a big, big, BIG OL' BREATH*

Yeah. Okay. Calm.

On the flip side of the blues, I am about 10 pages away from finishing my NanoWrimo book. I reached 50k on the 21st of this month, and I hope to finish the book either tonight or tomorrow. It will probably be about 70k--in which I will be heavily reading, revising, and adding about 10k.

In addition, one of my fave AA chick littish writers, Reon Laudat, will be my next interview for the blog. That will be posted in the next few weeks.

I'm off to write. While students were finishing up essays today, I sat and actually wrote long hand. With my tendonitis in both hands, it's extremely hard to write long hand, but I got about five pages written, and I stopped at a place that will allow me to keep writing, :-)

*WHEN* this book gets published, I will have a drawing for someone to win my autographed chicken scratch! LOL@Self

Laterz!

*NEW* Taste of NanoWrimo WIP: To Catch a Cheat

“Take these off for me, baby,” he said in the softest, deepest voice.

I was only too happy to oblige. My fingers clasped around the band and the boxers began their travel downward.

The house phone rang. Fuck, I thought, then stopped the boxers’ descent right at the glory mark. I unplugged the phone, smiled at Kenneth, and went back to the most important work in the world—getting Kenneth naked.

As the boxers found the floor, I pretended to not be impressed. Kenneth had a magnificent body. I crawled backward onto the bed and leaned toward my nightstand. I pulled out a box of condoms and sat them on the stand. After taking out one, I faced Kenneth and asked, “May I have the pleasure of putting this on?”

He said, “Yes” as someone began pounding on the door. I fell back onto the bed and groaned. I couldn’t ignore the loud bangs, and if it were Rico or Vince, I needed to get to the door and quickly. Both had keys.

I slid out the bed and said, “I’m so sorry. Let me get rid of whoever it is.”

Kenneth pulled me to him and the feel of our naked bodies meshed together made me release. He kissed my neck and said, “Hurry back.”

I snatched my silk blue robe from off the vanity’s chair, shut the bedroom door behind me, and rushed to the front door.

Vince was on the other side. His eyes were huge and moving quickly around what he could see inside.

He looked at me and asked, “What are you doing?”

I threw my hands on my hips. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t start that shit, Carter. I know Kenneth’s here.”

“So what? The case is closed. He can do whatever he wants, and so can I.”

“May I come in?”

I lifted a brow and responded, “Um, no, I don’t think so.”

“Why are you doing this, Carter?” Vince asked in a strained voice.

“Because I like him. Because I want to.”

“But you don’t love him.”

“And how do you know?”

“I just do.”

I shut the front door a bit and stepped onto the porch. “And why do I have to love him, Vince?” I asked.

“Because you never slept with anyone that you didn’t love,” he answered simply.

Desperate times, called for desperate measures, I thought.

“Why are you here, Vince?” I asked.

“Because you don’t know everything.”

“What’s everything?” Vince stood there staring at me as if trying to sway me with the sadness in his eyes. “What is everything, Vince?”

“Kenneth is not a victim here,” he said.

I laughed. “Are you serious?” I asked. “Not the victim? His wife was cheating on him, Vince.”

“Was she?”

I shook my head. “We have tape of her kissing someone,” I said. “He told me that she told him the truth. He left her. I know what I know.”

Vince opened his mouth, and I placed my hand over it. “He’s a good guy. Don’t be mad because you lost your shot.”

Vince’s eyes narrowed. When I removed my hand, he asked, “What shot?”

“You’re mad because Kenneth is getting what you want,” I said. “Me. You say you love me…”

“I do love you, Carter.”

“Yeah, to have you tell it. Everyone else is telling me that you’re in love with me. They tell me that you want to be with me.”

Vince didn’t respond. Not like I expected him to.

“You and I kissed,” I continued, “and I liked it. I thought there was something. I felt like there was something, and you’re like ‘let’s forget this happened’.”

I began crying, and I let out a string of profanity because I felt so damn stupid. Never, ever let a man see you cry. That was one of my mottos.

“I thought I was feeling something for you, Vince,” I whispered. “Something more than the love of our friendship. I opened myself up to a what if. You know I don’t do that.”

“Please don’t go back in there with him,” Vince said. “I never meant to hurt you, Carter.”

“The sad thing is I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. But these are the consequences to me being hurt. We have to deal with them. Goodnight.”

I turned to go in, and Vince grabbed my arm and spun me around. Before I could protest, he had me in his arms, and his mouth joined to mine. In the weakest attempt ever known to man, I tried to get out of Vince’s grasp, but he wasn’t having it. His hands moved down my back, and when they reached my backside, Vince moaned against my mouth. Involuntarily, my fingers inched into his crinkly, thick hair.

The kiss ended, and I stepped back on shaky legs. Vince’s eyes were flashing green like new money. I didn’t know how I was feeling or how I was supposed to feel.

“Goodnight, Vince,” I managed to get out before a sob escaped me.

I quickly went in and shut the door. I stayed there, listening for him to drive off. He did—five minutes later. My tears had still not stopped.

Alesia Holliday :: Published Author + NanoWrimo 2005 Participant!

Alesia, I went to your website, and I noticed that you write in several genres: chick lit, legal thrillers, non-fiction, and teens & tweens. To say the least, you are an eclectic writer. What has become your philosophy of writing?

Well, it looks much worse than it is! LOL. Actually, every one of the genres you mention is tied together by my signature humorous style. I generally say that I write funny novels, and the rest is a matter of reader preference. For example, the legal thrillers came about because I practiced trial law for several years, but none of the legal thrillers I read appealed to me. They were all plot, no character. No emotion. No humor. I didn't know a single attorney who lived life that way! I wanted to show a lawyer with a sense of humor who sees the funny side of even the most dire situations. I guess that's my "philosophy of writing," although I've never thought of it in such grand terms: write as honestly as I can about the crazy situations we all face, and find the humor in all of it. This works for me whether we're teens, military spouses, thirty-somethings looking for love, or trial lawyers trying to solve murder mysteries.

I see you're a participant in the 2005 NanoWrimo. What made you jump aboard this crazy ship of writing?

It was all due to one dear friend, Lani Diane Rich. She raved about the energy of Nano so much, I wanted to check it out for myself. We have a blast at www.literarychicks.com, and I basically do whatever she tells me to do. My life is much better that way.

Can you tell us a bit about what you're working on for NanoWrimo?

Sure. SEVEN WAYS TO LOSE YOUR LOVER is about a woman who calls herself "The Anti-Date Antidote" -- a "reverse Cyrano de Bergerac" -- the Breakup Artist. Shane Madison is so busy ending relationships before she can get hurt that she has even developed a hobby (which turns into a paying business!) helping other women "encourage" their boyfriends to break up with *them.* It's kind of a chick lit comedy of manners; for some reason Doris Day movies starring Kate Hudson keep playing in my mind while I write it.

You have a novella "The Naked Truth about Guys" in the new anthology, THE NAKED TRUTH. Aside from the catchy, makes you want to read it title, why should readers pick up the book?

It's a very fun book. Of course the very talented Donna Kauffman, Beverly Brandt, and Erin McCarthy are always a treat! In my story, The Naked Truth about Guys, the secret hook (you're the first to hear!) is that I like to turn conventional, cliched plots on their heads. I took a perennial favorite - girl wants smarmy guy, nice boy next door pines for girl, girl finally realizes nice boy next door is the one for her -- and turned it completely around. And I had a ball doing it!

Is there one book(s) or story(-ies) out there (not written by you) that you love so much that you wish you had penned it?

Oh, wow. There are hundreds of books that fall into this category! But, then again, maybe not. Because the books I truly love to read, and revisit over and over, hold some new surprise at each reading. If I'd written them, I wouldn't be able to say that!


Check out Alesia @ her website: http://www.alesiaholliday.com!

Made it to 50K!

That's right--in 20 days, I wrote 52,315 words of my NanoWrimo novel, "To Catch a Cheat." To say that I am geeked is an understatement. I was determined to at least break the 50k mark in the last two days. I had about 6,000 words to write between Saturday and today. I wrote about 8,000 words!

Now that I have at least gotten to the 50k mark, I can breathe a sigh of relief. I began with a big goal, and have finished the first major hurdle...writing that much in a day shy of three weeks. Now comes the second hurdle. I have three or four more chapters to write before the book is DONE. I will use the next ten days to do that...and then it's editing city!

Thing is, I once wrote a 350 page novel in less than a month. It was also, in my opinion, one of the best things I've ever written. The thing is I was in a quieter time then. It was summer vacation. I wasn't working. I was home with my mom and sibs. I had nothing TO do but write and have some fun.

With this, I am a full-time teacher, a mother (though I have no kids), a sister, an administrator, a friend, a problem solver, a magazine editor, and the list goes on and on. Every day there were five or eight things I HAD to do, and somehow, I would get it ALL done and do my 2,000 words a day. That is what makes this so special to me.

Thing to remember is you don't HAVE to wait for a NanoWrimo to start a writing dream today...or any dream for that matter. It only takes a goal, commitment to reach that goal, and a DEADLINE. Oh, and having people bug you for new pages or for progress doesn't hurt either!

The Flow of the Muse and What I'm up to

I'm not sure what my muse is these days, but it's got me writing, so that is always a good thing! I'm about to head off to bed. Been doing so much lately!

But I wanted to share some tidbits because I've been doing a few NanoWrimo interviews on the blog, and I wanted to let you all know that I'm alive and well, and...

1. I'm 47,000 words in on my NanoWrimo novel, TO CATCH A CHEAT. 50k is the magic number, but I will write the entire month and try to finish the whole novel. I may get up to 70k by the end of the month! :-)

2. I'm working on an English 102 course (composition) that will be African American literature based, so this weekend, I've been scouring sites on AA lit and history and culture and books, movies, TV, etc...so that I can have an idea of how I want to work the class in terms of what we'll read and what they will write. Hopefully, I will have something loosely written up tomorrow.

3. I have an idea for a collection of essays written about my experience in this teaching grant. It would be mostly narrative, but there will be stats and research and things like that to interest other people in the field. I hope to write my ideas, as loose as they will be, out tomorrow so that I can show them to my mentor before the holidays.

4. I'm counting down to Xmas. LOL Yep, had to throw that in. Since the hurricane and the reopening of school, I have been in this indifferent mode, and it's really the only way I've been surviving. I'm looking forward to sleeping, writing, doing much of nothing, and just being and me doing these things NOT because I had to evacuate my home but because I don't HAVE to leave my home.

ALAS, *taking a breath*, I need some sleep. Been having leg/foot pains recently; my mom gave me a prescription pill last night, and it had me LOOPY, to say the least. I've been dragging all day because of a pill I took like 24 hours ago. *shaking head* I realize that I will never learn, and if given to me, I would probably take another one.

Jennifer O'Connell :: Published Author + NanoWrimo 2005 Participant!

Jennifer, you've written three adult (no, not porn, CHICK LIT) novels, and now you have a teen chicklit novel, PLAN B, due out by MTV Books. How hard was it for you to switch from adult to teen world?

Oh, if only I did write porn, my husband would be one thrilled guy. But, as far as switching from adult to the teen world, it was the only thing to do for my sanity. After writing three adult books in a row, I was ready to hang up the laptop and call it quits. Then I had an idea for a teen story, and it was like the clouds cleared and the sun shone through. Writing was fun again! I wrote a story that I would have wanted to read as a teen, a story about a girl who is smart and has her act together and her life meticulously planned out – not some whiney girl who doesn’t know what she wants. I didn’t wander the halls of local high schools, but I did talk to the little girls I used to babysit in college – who are now all of 19 and 17 years old. I love my main character, Vanessa. The book was an absolute joy to write, and reminded me why I sit at a laptop getting carpal tunnel every day.

I see you're a participant in the 2005 NanoWrimo. What made you jump aboard this crazy ship of writing?

It’s called a looming deadline and 1k words written. I needed a kick in the ass, and some other writer friends of mine suggested I give it a try. Of course, instead of writing I’m answering your questions instead, so I’m not sure how well it’s working. What it did do was free me up from the internal editor – I could work on the first chapter of a book forever, and that’s not exactly conducive to finishing, now is it? Now I’m just writing, not worrying about every word or sentence. It’s nice, but kind of like making a mess in a room you know you’ll have to clean up later.

Can you tell us a bit about what you're working on for NanoWrimo?

It doesn’t have a name yet, but it’s my second teen book. It’s about a group of girls who decide to write a handbook that teaches guys how to treat girls – pretty much points out all their flaws and how to correct them. Of course, it’s not that easy. They also set out to prove their handbook works by testing it out on a guinea pig without his knowledge. And there’s a huge twist along the way, because nothing ever works out as planned, does it?

Is there one book out there (not written by you) that you love so much you wish you had penned it?

I always read sentences in books and think, “Damn, I wish I’d thought of that.” Some books I wish I’d written: THE WOMEN’S ROOM by Marilyn French, a book that I read in high school my senior year and pretty much jaded me for the rest of my life. I even wrote my college essay on it. Just an amazing book that spans decades and is so rich and bleak at the same time. Not for the faint of heart looking for a happy ending. THE AWAKENING by Kate Chopin, see above, only set the story back a hundred years. CROSSING TO SAFETY by Wallace Stegner, this is where I admit that I don’t usually read books written by men – not because I’m insane, but because I figure there are enough people out there reading them. I read this seven years ago and was captivated, loved it. A story about two couples and their friendship over the course of their lives. It also takes place in New England, where I’m from, so it holds a special place in my heart. I also love Adele Parks’ PLAYING AWAY, a great story about infidelity that’s just fun (yes, infidelity can be fun in the hands of the right writers).

What are your inspirations for writing?

Deadlines and fear of failure. They keep me going and keep me up at night. Otherwise, I’m someone who just enjoys real life. I’m not into fantasy or science fiction or even mystery. I think that basic every day things and experiences are fascinating, so even the most mundane thing can inspire me.

Check out Jennifer's goings on at her website, http://www.jenniferoconnell.com!

Interview: Published Author + NanoWrimo Participant, Jen Lancaster!

In 2006, NAL will release a book with a helluva title: Bitter is the New Black : Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass, Or, Why You Should Never Carry A Prada Bag to the Unemployment Office. Yes, that is the FULL TITLE. BITTER is Jen Lancaster's memoir, a story of a woman trying to figure out what happens next when she's gone from six figures to unemployment checks and she stops to reconsider some of the less-than-rosy attitudes and values she thought she'd never have to answer for when times were good.

Jen, why did you initially begin writing your story, BITTER IS THE NEW BLACK? Was it to get published, or was there some cathartic reason?

Both, eventually. My book started from a blog I kept while my husband and I were unemployed and on the fast track from rich to poor. Initially I blogged precisely because it was cathartic – so many bad things were happening in my life and writing was cheap and easy therapy. What's funny is that I never set out to write for an audience and a book deal was the last thing on my mind. I wrote for myself but didn't realize at the time how many other people were going through the same thing in the post dot-com boom. Thus, my website attracted a lot of attention, eventually that of my literary agent. She was the one who approached me about a project. And since my background is in business, as soon as she started talking about my writing a book, I thought, "Wait a minute… I could possibly make money doing what I love? Oh, HELL YEAH."

How long did it take you to write BITNB? Was it a frustration or smooth write for you?

The book sold based on a proposal and writing that took what seemed like forever, but was less than a year. Having such a thorough proposal made the actual writing process go by quickly. All in all, the manuscript only took a couple of months… best months of my life and I wish the process could have lasted longer! (Preparing and selling are what's stressful – writing's the fun part.)

However, there were frustrations along the way. When Publisher's Marketplace announced my deal, a literary blog picked up the story and a bunch of mean bloggers declared the book to be crap. Perhaps they could have held their vitriol at least until it was written. I mean, how do you hate that which does not yet exist? Also, BITNB isn't as fluffy as it sounds and re-living some of the rough spots was harder than anticipated. I found myself scribing those sections really quickly!

What are three "bitter" things will find in your upcoming book?

Getting fat, getting fired (OK, laid off, but the end result is still NO JOB), and getting f#&*ed over by a friend.

What I'm not "bitter" about is the help I've had along the way. If I didn't have a phenomenal agent who knew just when to push and when to prod, I'd have given up ages ago. If it weren't for the sacrifices my mother and husband made while I worked on the book, it never would have happened. In a lot of ways, I've been really lucky so I think it's my responsibility to "pay it forward." I do all I can to aid new writers along the path, whether it's a quick edit, help with a proposal, or an agent introduction. (But it's not purely altruistic – I always enjoy discovering a good new read!)

You're a NanoWrimo Participant this year. For those who don't know, that's National Novel Writing Month. Can you give us a clue as to what you're working on?

Sure! I'm working on a novel about a girl who for a variety of reasons has lost the ability to assert herself. It's not about reinventing herself as much as it is about getting back to who she used to be. She'll get her life on track with the help of another person who isn't quite who she seems, which is part of the twist.

BTW, I'm really excited to be a NaNoWriMo participant – I'd been thinking about this story for a while but had no impetus to put it to paper. NaNoWriMo was just the kick in the pants I needed.

You're using NanoWrimo to work on a fictional work. Has there been any huge differences or similarities between writing creative non-fiction and fiction?

Doing a memoir was easier in some respects because I already knew what was going to happen – I simply had to find a way to put my adventures into (what I hope is) an engaging format. For me, non-fiction is linear, A then B then C. I find fiction incredibly liberating because I'm not stuck recounting one story. Developing characters is a blast because it feels like the more I work with them, the more they hijack the narrative and take it an entirely different direction. That's why I didn't give the ending for my NaNoWriMo novel question – I'm waiting for my characters to reveal it to me!

Second Week of NanoWrimo--and I'm Alive to Tell the Story!

I have written almost 20,000 words in almost 2 weeks. My goal for this week is 14,000 words. I think I have about half of that, and I have four more days to go. I'm digging the story though I have no idea where this character is going. Yesterday, I was so drained, I only wrote about 400 words, but today, while I was sitting in my office, I churned out about 2,000 words, and I just did two, 15-minute writing jags for a total of 1,000 words. I'll probably do 2 more writing jags tonight so that I can make up my deficit from yesterday.

When I'm not writing, I'm teaching. Today was the last day of my classes, and I'm STILL dealing with students who didn't bother to show up for my class this past week or so though they were on campus, and now they are coming with their eyes wide and lips poked out, wanting a hand out. The hurricane has severely affected many, and I hope that somehow we can get back to some semblance of normalcy because I'm about to lose my damn mind! I'm at the point now where I want us all to stop playing victims and get on in the damn game and do what we got to do. Tomorrow, they are taking their final, and I'm sure there will be one or two students who come for the FIRST FREAKING TIME and will be like, "Can I make up the last week's worth of stuff and do the final today?" Pure insanity.

I need a deal like an addict needs its fix.

Back to NanoWrimo for a second. There are published authors who are participating in NanoWrimo (I'm one of them). I decided to do mini-interviews with those I meet on NW, so be on the lookout this weekend for at least three mini-interviews from chicklitters!

Off to try to write a few hundred more words....just need to turn off the internal editor and get 'er done! :-)

I'm a NanoWrimo Participant!!!!!

Yep. This month is National Novel Writing Month, and I'm going to break my writing constipation by finally putting fingers to keys and hammering out a novel, for better or worst. So far, I have about 7,400 words, and the goal is to get to 11,000 by Monday morning. I think it's a doable goal. We'll see.

I will be reporting and letting you all know how this is going. I know that as the story goes on, I will be griping to you all because this is the first story that I have ever written without some type of outline. All I knew was how I would like it to begin, a little about my character, and some little things I would like to happen. Right now, my main character is being supportive. Who knows how she'll act later. Here's a little excerpt of my story, TO CATCH A CHEAT:

CHAPTER ONE

The bad-ass gold, spike heels of my Manolo Blahniks were going to kill him. Cheater Number 5302 had a major foot fetish. Wear sandals, my fellow C. I. and partner Vince said. Sexy sandals.

So I dug into my shoe closet, my most-prized possession and sifted through every pair of Blahniks I owned, which were a lot. On any given day, I lived in sweats from Wal-Mart and Adidas or Reebok, but when I wanted to feel like a girl, a fine girl at that, I went to the heavy artillery. Artillery tonight was my Isabel’s—a sexy pair of red sandals that left nothing to the imagination; a pedicure was definitely in order. Cheater Number 5302 would not be able to stop staring at my French pedicure, or the way that one red strap hugged my big toe or the thin, gold ring on my middle toe. Two red straps encircled themselves around my ankles and led up to well-toned calves, my knees, and the beginning of my firm, thick thighs before the rest of my goodies disappeared under my black, almost sheer, empire-waist mini-dress.

One of my Victoria’s latest recruits enveloped my breasts and pushed them together, then up. Instead of my normal black-rimmed specks, I wore dark gray contacts; they would bring flair to the aura that was me—more than my typical brown eyes could. My hair was precision cut and wrapped, and now laid silkily down my back. A loose lock fell over my left eye. My makeup, professionally done. Jewelry, minimal. When I looked in the mirror on my dresser, I definitely didn’t recognize myself, but I guess that was the point. I was supposed to be the finest girl up in the club tonight. How else would I catch a cheater?

I picked up the picture that rested on my dresser. Kenneth Stevenson was printed just beneath the picture of a guy who could definitely give George Clooney a run for his money in the looks department. Typically, white guys weren’t my thing. I was more a Denzel Washington chick—a brother who was refined but looked like he knew how to do things proper like. But Cheater Number 5302? I would straddle up on that stallion any day. But he was married. He was possibly a cheater. I was sent to catch him in the act. I was the act. Therefore, no pleasure and all work.

I flipped the picture over and began reading the mini-dossier on Mr. Stevenson:

Name: Kenneth Stevenson

Age: 42

Height: 6’ 1 ½”

Weight: 195

Occupation: Lawyer

Married: 8 years to Cynthia Stevenson

Children: Two—daughter, 6, Rebekah. Son, 4, Kenneth, Jr.

Reason for coming to F.A.C.E.: For the last five months, Mrs. Stevenson has felt a disconnection from her husband. He’s been working longer hours. He’s consistently picking fights for no reason. He has practically stopped having sexual relations with Mrs. Stevenson.

I turned toward my bed and plopped down onto it. Beside me laid a manila folder—the rest of Kenneth Stevenson’s info that Vince had Suzie, our receptionist/secretary/informant/everywoman, put together. There were pictures of the happy family supplied by an unhappy Mrs. Stevenson. There was a mini-tape in which a tearful Mrs. Stevenson told Vince that she thought it was quite a coup for someone like her to meet and marry someone like Kenneth. Just from listening to the tape, I could tell Cynthia had some real self-esteem issues. She thought she was fat. She was grateful the kids turned out to be lighter than she. She was happy that someone who was white wanted her. She could somehow be somebody else because of him.

I wanted to reach through the picture and snatch Cynthia right out of it. She could have been my sister, and I never believed myself to be fat or unattractive. I was thick, but I never got a complaint for having juicy thighs or an attention-grabbing booty. I couldn’t stand when a sister would lose her mind and think someone, anyone could replace what she needed to give herself—love and esteem. Especially when she thought she had to go looking in the rainbow connection to find it. If she couldn’t love herself, why in the hell did she think someone else could?

Despite my job, I mean after all, I was working for Mrs. Stevenson, I almost understood why Kenneth’s eye might wander. It must be tiring having to breathe for you and someone else.

I looked at the pictures of the family again. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“No wonder I got the case,” I whispered. I was the only chick at F.A.C.E. that could even pull off the look-alike. Vince thought we should first go with someone who resembled the positive attributes of Mrs. Stevenson. Kenneth had to have loved her inside and out once upon a time. Maybe my resemblance would make him want me.

Mrs. Stevenson was a full-figured, black woman. Last I checked, my size 16 body qualified for full-figured stardom, and my cinnamon coloring made me black. She had the look of someone who should have had the biggest ego. She looked smart. She looked sporty. She looked girly. Cynthia really could have been my older sister. Long hair, big brown eyes, nice curvy body. The more I looked at her picture, the more my anger at her left and my need to protect her skyrocketed. I needed to make sure I handled this assignment as to-the-book as I could.

In a family picture, Kenneth had Cynthia wrapped up in a big hug beneath a willow tree. They both wore t-shirts and shorts. The kids covered their eyes and made sick, gaggy faces at their parents. The kids could pass for white; it was the first thing I noticed in the picture, but in closer inspection, you could notice that the girl was the spitting image of her mother—except for the coloring, and Kenneth, Jr. was totally his dad, but with his mother’s big brown eyes. They were an adorable family. I frowned. I hoped I wouldn’t find anything during my undercover work.

I reached over onto my nightstand and picked up my cell phone. I dialed a number and after Rico’s hello, I said, “I’m on my way to Satisfaction.”

“You know I got your back, mamacita,” Rico replied. “Be sexy.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“Well…”

“Shut up, Rico. See you there.”

I slipped my cell phone into my small, red and black purse and stood.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and said, “Hey baby, what’s your sign?” Giggling, I retrieved my credit card-sized recorder from the dresser. I slipped the recorder into the thin pouch I stitched into the inside of my dress under my right arm. I clipped the tiny microphone to my bra and fixed my dress again. Rico would test me for audio when I got to Satisfaction.

Satisfied with my looks, I offered a prayer for safety and the truth, made the sign of the cross, and left for another night of rendezvousing with infidelity.

Interview with My Fave Author :: Bernice McFadden!!!!!

I heard a story that it took you almost ten years to get published. Tell us about the circumstance that brought about you getting THE CALL...and your reaction to it.

I started by submitting short stories to magazines back in 1989 and received nothing but rejection letters. In 1990, I decided to take my short story, Sugar and develop it into a full length novel. It took me about a year to accomplish that and then I started querying agents as well as publishers - and in between the rejection letters, I continued to tighten the story. Over time the standard rejection letter I had been receiving began to change and editors and agents started taking time to explain what they thought was problematic with the story line. This is a good thing - and so I made the required changes and continued to submit. Later on I began to receive letters from interested parties who really loved the story but just didn't feel there was a place in the market for it. In any case, on Feb 9, 1999, I sent a email to James Vines (agent), he requested the ms, and two weeks later signed me. I had a two book deal by the end of the week I signed on with him. I was out to lunch w/some co-workers and James was calling me on my cell phone w/every offer the publisher made - it was very exciting. I handed in my resignation letter the next day and never looked back.



Your debut novel, SUGAR, by far, is one of the best books I have ever read. It is delicate and painful and rhythmic and joyous all wrapped into one, tight pleasurable read. What sparked your need to write it?

Sugar started at as a poem and then extended herself into a short story - but she wasn't happy with that and so revealed herself to me in a way she hadn't done before leaving me no other choice but to write her story and share it with the world.



What are your three guilty pleasures?

Funny you should ask that! I ask people that all of the time. A strong dark wine, a strong dark man, and a white sand beach!



The very first line of SUGAR is killer. How important, to you, is grabbing the reader on the first page?

In fiction writing 101, you're taught to try to grab the reader with the first sentence. Since I didn't take fiction 101 until after Sugar was mostly written, I have to assume that it's just instinct. I want to write what I like to read. I want my readers to be captivated from the beginning, which is exactly what I want when I pick up a book.



Do you write every day?

No, I wish I could, but the stories unfold themselves at a very slow pace. I do, however, think about the story on a daily basis. I pay attention to the scenes the characters present to me, turning it over and over in my head until finally I think I've gotten the essence of it and then I sit down and write.



What is the one thing that makes you feel the most feminine, and why?

High heels! I stand at five feet six inches and I'm a "thick" girl - I feel that that extra three or six inch lift from a pair of sexy heels help to soften my curves.



To write as deeply as you do, there has to be influences; what or who influences you as a writer?

I am influenced by writers, my family, friends, strangers, animals...everything and everybody. I feel very deeply. I cry often - not that I'm depressed - I'm very happy - but that's how deeply I feel things and that's how I express what I feel - whether it's happy or sad. So that part of me comes out in my stories.



In each book I've read of yours, from SUGAR to CAMILLA'S ROSES, you seem to get better and better. Obviously, you are not only a good storyteller, but a good writer. What are three must-heed pieces of advice you would offer aspiring writers?

One, remain true to the story the characters are sharing with you; two, keep in mind that publishing is a business - and that publishers are in business to make money, so decide what you're in it for; and three, develop a thick skin.



What do you do when you want to relax?

I travel.



You have a new book out under a pseudonym--GROOVE. It's a total departure from your previous works. Why such a departure?

I started Groove years ago when I was unable to sell Sugar. I figured I'd write something that was sure to sell - because that was the climate of the market then and now. In my mind, Groove would be the book to get my foot through the door.
Now I feel that Groove will bring readers to Bernice McFadden. Those readers who would not have picked up one of my books in the past.



Where did the idea of this book and the trilogy come from?

The idea came from every day life. I know or have known at some time in my life every one of the characters in Groove. I just took what I knew and exaggerated the personalities.



If you had to pick three adjectives to describe you, what would they be?

Funny, caring, thoughtful.



How easy/hard was it for you to make that transition from literature to more genre/commercial fiction?

Groove was an easy write. It was fun and quick. I was in control the entire time. It was a big change to be the one manipulating instead of the one being manipulated.



What has been the reaction to the racy, humorous alter ego, Geneva Holliday?

Some of my friends were a little shocked when they read Groove. They had looks on their faces like a child who'd caught his or her parents having sex! Overall, my readers have really enjoyed Groove and are looking forward to the other installments. Fever the follow-up, will be available April 2006.


Visit Bernice @ her website :: http://www.bernicemcfadden.com!