BAM - New Update to My W-I-P

Well, I went to BAM (Books-A-Million) Tuesday, and I went today for about three hours. I'm happy to say that in those two days I added a little over 4,000 words to my new manuscript, THE LOSS OF WEIGHT. Yay me! LOL


Below is a new excerpt of the story:


This may not come as a surprise to a lot of you, and I would probably never say this to Ma because she'd feel that God had answered her prayer and that I was beginning to fully become one with the Lord, but God knows things, and He knows when to share those things with us. Some days, I have gone to church and the message is completely lost on me; however, Ma always leaves the church feeling as if service was a one-on-one conversation between her and God. I wanted that, too, and the moment Reverend Bryant came to the podium in his cream-colored suit after worship and offerings, lifted his eyes to us, and just about whispered into the mike, "God wanted me to tell you something this morning. You are loved, and you are special," an itch formed in my right palm.

Sweat had already begun to bead on Reverend Bryant's brow as his short, stomp-jumper self snatched the mike from the small stand on the pulpit so that he could walk the stage, come close to us so that we could see just how serious he was when he relayed his message for today.

Reverend Bryant, or Rev as I liked to call him from time to time, was a man short in stature, but big in life. For a while, I had stepped out of the church and sampled other churches and denominations, much to the disappointment of Ma, but every time, I came back to Reverend Bryant because he wasn't fake. Sure, he wore nice suits, had a nice home, and led a usually quiet but respectable congregation; however, he was also the man who wore overalls on Saturdays and went fishing with my dad and other men in the town, could cause back flipping in his church just from the calm, smooth tones of his voice, and could scream his love for the Lord with so much fervor that you left the church shook for at least a day as the spirit revved all through you.

I lifted a Bible to my chest with my left hand, and, with my right hand I rubbed my chest.

"I know," Reverend Bryant said, leaning against his pulpit, "that there are some of you out there this morning who don't believe a word out my mouth." His walnut-colored face glistened with sweat, and he wiped at his brow with what was probably one of his great-grandmother's handmade handkerchiefs. He never preached without one in his left pant pocket. "You out there thinking, how am I special."

I nodded as I continued to rub. That's true, I thought. I mean at the most, I'm average. I'm not sure what makes a person special, let alone me.

Reverend Bryant came close to the edge of the stage and pointed out into the crowd at no one in particular. "You out there," he began, his voice rising as he repeated full of guttural emotion, "you out there thinking ya ugly or ya dumb or ya fat. Anything negative you can find to say, you say it."

I chewed the inside of my cheek. Danni scooted closer to me and nudged me. I didn't turn toward her.

"Aren't you?" he asked, his eyebrow raised, his voice secretive as if waiting for us to confess. "Be truthful."

The burn in my belly and chest churned, scorching organs and flesh. I don't think I'm fat, God. I know that. You see all, so surely You've seen my hips, as--butt, and gut lately. Not pretty. I come from a family where butterball is a term of endearment, where my granddaddy used to call me his fat, little girl or dumpling, all meant to be taken sweetly, I know, but still reaffirmed BIG as in DIFFERENT. Now, when I'm even bigger than I was as a kid, I'm in a world where I'm not the chosen one because of my size. Hel…Heck, I'm not chosen for anything. I'm not trying to find negative, God. It's right there in my mirror, everyday.

"But God," Reverend paused as Nate the organist struck a chord, "God wants you to know that you are special. How do I, I, a mere servant of God, know that? Jeremiah 1:5. God tells you that before you were even formed in the womb," Nate tickled the keys to a rising tremble, "He knew you."

"Yes," Ma whispered.

Ms. Abigail Dentz, one of the few white women in the congregation and our local hollering woman, stood from her seat in the first pew and raised her hand. "Preach it, Reverend," she shouted. Twenty years ago, that would have been funny, but now, it was second nature to see Mrs. Dentz live in the spirit. After dealing with a husband who was living in pure-adulterated sin and a daughter who caused a stir in the church because she was living in and decided to jump out of the closet, I guess Mrs. Dentz deserved her dedication to the Word because it was the only stable thing she owned.

Reverend raised his hand to Ms. Dentz, and said, "Before you were born, God says He set you apart." Reverend bounced slightly on the balls of his feet as Nate riffed. "God planned for you." Another organ riff as Reverend reached out to the congregation. "He wanted someone just like you in this world, for without you, the world as God saw it would not be complete."

My head rocked back as if a bat had slammed against my forehead.

Danni's hand slid atop my left one. She squeezed it. "You okay?" she asked.

The first tears leaked from my right eye. "I'm fine," I whispered, but I thought, How did You set me apart, God? What did You see in me that would become special? I wish You would tell me. Show me. Something. Why did You plan for me?

"You may feel discouraged some times," Reverend said before heading back to the pulpit. He put the mike back on the stand and gripped the pulpit. "You may feel inadequate." The tickling of the organ keys matched the movement in my chest. "You may think that no one in this world loves you or will ever love you, but I'm here today to tell you that isn't so, for nothing can separate you from God's love."

"Nothing," Ma said, and I could tell she's crying because her shout was muffled by a snotty nose.

Others' chants of affirmation almost flooded out the burn in me.

Show me how to not be discouraged.

Reverend touched his chest and closed his moist eyes. "When your troubles and pains and sadnesses get the best of you, remember Philippians 1:6, be confident in knowing that He who began a good work in you will carry it out to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. Amen."

I rubbed at the ache in my chest. God, I'll tell you. I'll tell you right now how I feel. I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to be sad. I don't want to be a walking zombie. I don't want this damn pain in my leg, or the shortness of breath, or the stares from the people, or the inadequacies I feel about myself. I just don't know how to fix any of it. I don't know how to not be this way.

Get the SCOOP on Debut Novelist, Kit Frazier: an interview

Title of your debut novel: SCOOP, Midnight Ink, September 2006


Pitch your novel in 50 words or less:
Obituary writer Cauley MacKinnon wants the scoop of a lifetime, but when a friend dies of a suspicious suicide, Cauley finds herself up to her eyelashes in dead bodies, on the run from an earless maniac and on the lookout for a hot FBI agent she’s sure has the answers.



What’s one thing you learned in the writing of this novel?
Oh, gosh, what a great question. I learned a lot of things while writing this novel. I think the biggest thing was the importance of friends, especially friends who write. Writing is hard—if it was easy, everyone would do it, and on those nights when you’ve had too much bourbon and Diet Coke and you’re convinced the novel is crap, friends will convince you that you say this in the middle of every novel, award-winning and otherwise, and will stop you from stripping naked, dousing the damn thing with lighter fluid and dancing around the resulting bonfire in your backyard.



I’m currently reading SCOOP—love it by the way—Cauley is a gritty, feisty chick, and I dig it! One thing I noticed about the novel is that you made sure to integrate femininity to your main character, Cauley. It would be, I assume, so easy to focus on the plot at hand, which is intricate, and totally forget that Cauley is a woman who loves shoes and men, among other things. How important was it for you to show Cauley’s multi-faceted personality?

Thank you! I hope you like it have as much as I enjoyed writing it!

As for Cauley, it was very important to me that Cauley was a real woman. My mother was a policewoman in the late 70s, and I remember how difficult it was for her to fit into a profession so pumped with testosterone. Under her uniforms (which I had to iron when I was a little girl, by the way), she always wore frilly panties and bras, and she had a closet full of killer shoes. Later, I took cues from her when I became a reporter, and was usually the only girl in an office full of men.



What are some of the themes you tackle in SCOOP?
The main theme of SCOOP is making mistakes, accepting the consequences, forgiving yourself, and moving on. It was important to me that Cauley makes some big mistakes, but she bounces back—she takes her bruises and moves on and is usually, hopefully the smarter for it. I think so often we keep making the same mistake over and over again (I certainly have and usually it has to do with the male of the species) and we repeat it until we learn the lesson from it.



Tell us about your journey to publication (from getting your agent to getting a book deal).

Oh, boy. My family is a big bunch of storytellers, so I began reading, writing and telling stories at an early age. I was a reporter, and Julie Ortolon, our graphic artist, was writing a romance novel (she’s now a bestselling romance author—check her out at www.Ortolon.com). We became friends, and she suggested I go with her to her romance writer meetings. I did, and I wrote a romance—it won every contest in which it was entered, and got me a meeting with a couple of agents, including one at William Morris. The agent told me she loved my voice, my sense of humor and loved my characters, but could I get rid of the baby and the man?

I said, “Well, no, but I could write you a new novel.” On the way home from that meeting, Cauley MacKinnon came to me whole and fully formed, ready to tell me her story. I pulled in the driveway, ran into the house and wrote the first 60 pages that night, and I knew…I just knew Cauley was my girl.

SCOOP won a litany of contests, including the Writers’ League of Texas and the Merritt. I got several agent interviews but chose Andrea Somberg. It was funny, though, because I was SO nervous when I met her because I’d heard so many wonderful things about her and I knew she was the agent for me, so I memorized my one sentence pitch, my short bio, my career goals and her client list. Andrea had actually judged the contest, so she’d read the first 20 pages, and when I went in for my meeting, she started the conversation by saying she loved the book, said she read it to her boyfriend, and actually quoted parts of it back to me. I was floored. So, I signed with her and a great friendship and agent/writer relationship was born.

Cauley made the rounds at publishing houses, and three editors fought hard for it, but they didn’t know where to put—is it a mystery? Is it a romance? Poor Cauley got smacked down in marketing every time. Two of those editors said that if I would change this one thing (Cauley sleeps with a charming, sweet talking bad guy who is not the hero), I’d get the green light. But that relationship is important to Cauley’s character arc, and it’s important to the series. And then came Barbara Moore at Midnight Ink, who loved the book and believed in the series in me so much they sent me to Book Expo this year! Talk about feeling like Queen of the Universe. My books were all gone before the Expo was over, and I’m still getting mail from people who got the book there and read it. It’s been a fantastic experience, and Midnight Ink has been very good to me.



As a published author, what types of things do you do to help push your work?
I’m very proactive with my career. I speak at conferences, write press releases, I visit booksellers, I made some really cute handcuff key chains to give to booksellers, and hired a publicist who targets booksellers. I also write writing-related articles, because most writers are readers. Midnight Ink took out a couple of ads, and I’ve taken out a couple, but I also go to non-writing related functions, such as women’s conferences, chamber of commerce meetings, Search and Rescue conferences and anything that has to do with the book’s subject matter. Networking and word of mouth is super important.

I am also doing a free 30 minute “teleconference” with reading groups who chose SCOOP as their book choice.

But one of the best things and by far my favorite, is mentoring. I don’t do it to push my career, but because there were women who helped (and are still helping) me. I think it’s very important for women who are climbing the ladder to give our gal pals a boost up the rungs whenever we can.

On a more quirky note, I also wear a tee shirt that says, “Warning: Be Nice To Me. What You Say & Do May Wind Up In My Next Book, www.kitfrazier.com.”



What three pieces of advice would you offer to aspiring-to-be-published authors?
I know you’ve heard it before, but write, write, write. It’s also important to learn the basics of writing and publishing, read a lot, and hang out with other writers, even if it’s online. But most important is to apply butt to seat, fingers to keyboard, even when there’s nothing but crap coming out. The muse has to know where to find you, and if you’re at the keyboard, she’ll show up…



Are you an outliner or a jump-in-and-see-what-happens type of a writer? Why?
Oh, I’m sorry, I just heard hysterical laughing in my head. Yes, I outline. But it never goes the way I think it’s going to go. All of my friends have these elaborate outlines, and they know just what’s going to happen next, which makes me insanely jealous. Of course, they’ve also got their spices arranged in alphabetical order and shop with grocery lists.



Do you have a writing routine? For example, do you write every day?
Sorry, the laughing is still echoing. It drives my friends and family crazy, because I need to get on some sort of routine, but I carry a little notebook with me to jot down ideas, snippets of conversation, characters, etc. I wish I had a more regimented schedule, but what usually happens is I write in big bursts at the beginning of every day so that my first, best energy goes into the book. I also keep a little light pen and a notebook by my bedside, because my muse won’t leave me alone at night and whispers the best ideas while I’m trying to go to sleep. The light pen and notebook save me from scrounging around, tripping over the dog to scribble illegible notes with lipstick on a cocktail napkin…



How do you spend your time when you're not writing?
I assume we’re not talking about the day job, where I’m the editor of a regional magazine…For fun, I spend time at the lake with my dog, spending time (also with the dog) at the family ranch with the cows, goats and barn cats, and I spent a disproportionate amount of time and income going to lunch with my friends so we can all complain about writing. We really are a bunch of whiners…



What are you currently working on?
I am finishing DEAD COPY, the second in the Cauley series, and I hate to jinx it, but I’m loving it and think it may even be better than SCOOP. I’m also working on a short story and outlining *snort* the storyline for MORGUE FILE, the third in the series, where Cauley’s horrible ex husband comes back and tries to ruin things for her and Logan, and I’m loving the book already.



Dream-on: You've been greenlighted to do any creative project you want. What project would that be?

I’d like to have time to paint and sculpt again, and I’ll get back to it sooner or later. I’ve got a couple of ideas for paranormal books, and I’d love to write a memoir, but there are a couple of people who probably have to meet The Maker before I start that one…

It's My Birthday, Bir-Bir-Bir-Birthday...

...so I thought I would post. Today was a normal day. At midnight, my sis and one of my brothers gave me gifts and a gift and proceeded to tell me how old I am, LOL. Always makes a girl feel good!

My MySpace had several notes of happy birthday, which was cool.

I had to go teach, I treated myself to Books-A-Million, delicious coffee, and the time to be a voyeur while I read student essays (it doesn't take much to make me happy, really).

Now, I'm home, awaiting my yummy Chinese dinner so that I can read yet MORE student essays. Aren't birthdays great?

Really, this one totally caught me off guard. Since Hurricane Rita, I haven't paid too much to days and months. I just know that most days I work, and that's what I do. Now, I spend my time working and worrying that another hurricane will make us have to leave again. :-/

So it wasn't until my other brother called me from work about 11:30 last night and said, "Do you know that in 30 minutes you will be old?" that I realized my birthday was coming. Another year has slipped by and I barely realized it. Things have happened, not happened; there have been surprises, good and bad.

When I was younger, there were accomplishments I wanted to achieve before specific birthdays, especially the big 3-0. Many were achieved; many were not. Now that I hit the big 3-4 (I'm not TOO ashamed of my age-LOL--I still get mistakened for an undergrad on campus), I realized there were things I wanted to achieve before now, and especially before 3-5. Instead of being sad that I didn't achieve them, which I was this morning as I sat in my office and shedded a few tears, I decided that I'm going to grab the damn bull by the horns and do the damn thing. What is "the damn thing," you might ask? Oh, it's many things, actually. The point is that I am going to make life happen so that when I turn 3-5 in another year, I can smile and say that I did something with my year instead of wait for another year to turn.

Well, lemme go get to those WONDERFUL essays...*rolling eyes, laughing*

Word-O-Meter Update

Did some writing tonight, and I cracked the 20% mark, so I had to share, :-)

Off to bed. Have to teach the kids tomorrow.