Fenblood: Logline

Logline is a term used in film and television, and it tells you succinctly, in one or two sentences, what the movie is about. If you've ever read a blurb about a show in TV Guide, or along with the movie listings in the newspaper, then you've read a logline. Admittedly, not all of them are good, probably because they're written by someone who may not even have seen the show they're supposed to describe.

When applied to a novel, a logline corresponds to the back cover text which, hopefully, hooks you and gets you to buy the book. It should tell you enough about the story to grab your interest, but not so much that it reveals the entire plot.

For Fenblood, it goes like this:

Facing a life of bitter isolation, a lonely hunter must overcome the guilt of her role in her parents' deaths to lead an expedition to save the sacred source of her clan's magic from destruction. But when her enemy's defeat proves to be in vain, she must let go of past fears before her team--and her clan's magic--are lost forever.

What do you think? Do you like it? Does it get your attention and make you want to know more about the heroine and her clan?

Out With the Old & In With the New

For those of you who may have visited before, there's nothing wrong with your browser: I removed all my posts prior to September 2013. It seemed fitting since there'd been such a lapse between the last one this past November and the ones I'm posting now. Also, those old posts were mainly whining and navel gazing, and so aren't reflective of the purpose of this blog. Thus, gone.

I am writing this afternoon and also made great progress last week despite a tiring and hectic work schedule, having wrangled my logline into submission. Look for a post about that later today.

For My 4 Followers: Fenblood is Born!

Today, I accomplished more writing-related progress than I have managed in more than a year. I blocked out a complete novel from start to finish including a complex, multidimensional protagonist, her misfit companions (because why should she get to have all the fun), a three-act story arc including a number of small and large conflicts, a denouement, and a finale. And all without having to write 30,000 words before I figured out something wasn't working.

Not that I didn't have to go back and rethink things. I did. Yesterday I got stuck and took a break about halfway through. Things just weren't working. Even though I had a protagonist with a long way to go to reach her potential, there wasn't any real conflict or challenge. It was still too much internal to the character without enough interaction with the rest of the world. Even the inciting event (the catalyst) didn't affect her directly. For the entire first half of the book, she would have just been along for the ride. I'm bored just thinking about it.

So, instead of giving up and crying (my usual response), I took a break last night and played a couple of games of Heroes of Metro City with my amazing husband, and let my brain work on the problem. I wish I could say that this morning I awoke with the solution fully formed in my brain, but alas it took several more hours of thought, false starts, more thought, jotting down random ideas, and surfing the web in between. Finally, this afternoon it all came together in my head and in pixels. The middle's still weak, but for the first time ever I've gotten a complete novel plotted out.

This may come easily to some writers, but I've never been much of a planner. As a child and teenager, I'd sit down to write and the words would just pour out of me and onto the page. My mind was full of characters and things that could happen to them. My teachers were enthusiastic and complimentary. I even won contests while I was still in Junior High, if I recall correctly. And then, I just stopped. I could blame it on a lot of things, but there's not any point in that and I'd be lying to myself if I said the fault lay with anyone except myself. Oh, I always dreamed of being a writer, even published something for a roleplaying game more than a decade ago, and always kept buying and reading more books about writing. Always dreaming, never doing.

NaNoWriMo brought the dream back to life a few years back, but again I never really got anywhere. Although I wrote tens of thousands of words, none of it went anywhere. It was all just so much navel-gazing, introspective crap about a character who wasn't interesting to anyone except me (and eventually, not even to me). No conflict, no growth, no plot, no story. Nineteen months of hell at my day job (always stressful, even more so from mid-2011 through the end of 2012), two dismal NaNos, and I was certain my creativity had been crushed forever.

I was exhausted and I had nothing left at the end of the day for writing. I tried, but I failed miserably each and every time. I got surly, and I was mean and petty when it came to my writing friends who were making more progress than I was and having more success. I couldn't stand to hear about how well they were doing, didn't want to know what they were working on or where they'd submitted. It was a classic case of sour grapes, but knowing that didn't make it any better. I was a bitter, self-centered, jealous jerk.

That whole time though, some people still believed in me: my incredible husband Alex; my talented and understanding friend Kait; my coworkers and employees. This post is really for you. Thank you. Whatever I've accomplished today, it's in large part because of you. Alex, you gave me the time and encouragement I needed and never lost faith in me. Kait, you put up with my ranting and raving and always had a word of encouragement even while pursuing your own dreams.

Do I still have a long way to go? Certainly. But this is the most positive I've felt about my writing in a long, long time. I accomplished something phenomenal today, and I'm proud of that. All I need to do now is forge ahead and put some meat on this story's bones. Fenblood is born.