Beautiful Books: The Pieces of Us

(Beware: This post contains a lot of formatting issues that came up out of nowhere, and they are not cooperating with me no matter how many times I edit this post. XD)

There is less than half an hour before NaNoWriMo 2016 officially starts, and I have a test tomorrow, but I’m writing this instead of studying, because I’ve never participated in a Beautiful Books linkup before and I am so excited about NaNo that I can hardly wait to start typing. This year is off to an exciting start. The first surprise was that I was actually going to participate (because how can one face these things while in college?!?!), and the second was that I came up with a plot four days ago. The characters are just screaming to be written, they have a pretty interesting story to tell, and I am so excited to see where this month takes us.

Beautiful Books, if you're interested, is a lovely linkup hosted by Sky @ Further Up & Further In and Cait @ Paper Fury. So many people participated in the linkup this month and I might or might not have been stalking so many posts to see the incredible things people are writing. I can already tell this NaNo will be great. I hope all of those books get published so I can hurry up and read them. XD

Anyway, without further ado, I shall introduce The Pieces of Us!

1. What inspired the idea for your novel, and how long have you had the idea?

Well, as I mentioned above, I’ve had the idea for about four days now, and we’re still going strong. Two of the main characters, Ivan and Dani, have been in my head for about five days, though, because they were really what got the ball rolling with this plot. As far as inspiration goes, I was actually more inspired by pictures this time. I have a board on Pinterest devoted to faces for unnamed/uncreated characters, and I felt like writing that night, so I picked a photo, and I wrote about the guy in it. That was Ivan, and the same thing happened with Dani. So I guess you could say Pinterest pinspired me to write this novel (oh my gosh, not puns; I should really be studying right now).

2. Describe what your novel is about!

Dani Whittington knows that girls like her don’t get happy endings; that’s just how it works. Her foster brother, Ivan O’Direk, knows that life isn’t fair, but he’s done with the system. Soon, Dani will be eighteen, and they can finally get away from their foster father and Arkdale, Alabama as possible. 

Enter Levi Han: a reclusive introvert making a last-ditch effort to graduate high school. In order to graduate, he has to spend an entire summer working on a project, getting to know one of his classmates personally. There’s only one catch: The student the school placed him with is one mistake away from expulsion or - worse - juvie, and it’s up to Levi to keep her out of trouble. 

But wherever Dani Whittington goes, trouble follows, and before he knows it, Levi is embarking on a journey across the country to attend the funeral of a man he has never met. As their stories intertwine and what was supposed to be a simple trip becomes a murder investigation, Levi, Dani, and Ivan find themselves caught in a web of deception and danger with no way out.

3. What is your book’s aesthetic? Use words or photos or whatever you like!

4. Introduce us to each of your characters!

Oh my gosh, okay. There are only three (four if you count Alexander, but all he has is a name; there's also an inkling of another female character in the back of my head, but she has yet to reveal herself). Let me tell you, these three characters listed below are monsters. Once I started writing about their personalities and backstories, I couldn't stop. I'll try to condense everything into a few sentences if I can, but I make no promises.

Levi Han, ladies and gentleman. I'm not sure that I've ever had such a mischievous adorable character before. Despite the fact that he is the main character and the story is in his perspective, I found it hard to get to know Levi. He watches the world, but there is not much he wants to reveal about himself. UNTIL TODAY. So, I was just minding my own business, attempting to form some sort of outline this morning, when all of a sudden, Levi casually throws in something about him not being some easy going, only child, who wants to graduate high school.

Apparently, something serious happened a year ago by the time the story starts, and I still don't know what it is. But it is serious, and he isn't telling anyone about it. Also, there is a more recent conflict with him, too, and I am just like, "Okay, kid. Why are you so messed up? You were supposed to be the GOOD ONE." But no. He isn't the good one. Not even close.

I'm not sure what else to say about him. He doesn't know how to swim. He wants to be a filmmaker. He's a little brat but I love him.

This is Dani Whittington. Her picture is even sideways out of spite for those who want to tell her who to be. I didn't know much about Dani when I first started writing, only that she wasn't the person everyone seemed to think she was, but it wasn't until I began delving into her character more that I realized she had a lot to say. She has grown up in the foster care system since she was eight years old, and it has had a detrimental impact on her life.

Moving from family to family, constantly facing uncertainty and instability, Dani learned to rely on only herself, though in her heart, she longs to trust others. The only person she has remained close to for an extended period of time is Ivan, her foster brother, and although she'll never admit it aloud, she has an enormous soft spot in her heart for him.

She also has a "get-the-bleep-out-of-here" fund and she eats strawberry poptarts for breakfast.

Meet Ivan O'Direk. He was the first character to pop into my head, and also the first (and last) to be quiet so the others would have a turn to talk. I decided to just type whatever came to me the night Ivan was created (instead of obsessing over the smallest of details, which is my usual forte), and this was the second sentence I wrote about Ivan: "He was the kind of guy you could count on to bring you Sour Patch kids at two o'clock in the morning, but the kind of guy who would leave you stranded at a bus stop in the pouring rain because he thought it would make for a great story later."

I don't know what that means, to be honest, but I couldn't continue writing at all until I wrote that down, so I think it's just Ivan. He's kind of quirky, rough around the edges, but when he cares about someone or something, he is loyal and dedicated. He's a weird mixture of a bad boy and a teddy bear, and I still don't understand how that works, but it does. It's Ivan, my quirky little baby.

5. How do you prepare to write? (Outline, research, stocking up on chocolate, howling, etc.?)

I've been attempting to outline lately, mainly because I know that I'll be busy with school and papers and tests, but I have a feeling it might be more howling as the month goes on, because I'm writing 50,000 words on top of school and papers and tests. Chocolate sounds nice, too (let's face it: I'm not prepared).

6. What are you most looking forward to about this novel?

I am definitely looking forward to all of the surprises my characters have in store for each other. I think they're all quite similar, but simultaneously so, so different, so it will be interesting to see them work together and get to know one another. I'm also looking forward to the storyline. It is more focused on crime than any of my other books have ever been, and I think it will be fun to write about that side of things.

7. List 3 things about your novel’s setting.

A town too small to hold wild dreams, a car too small to hold wild teens, and a church too small for a fist fight.

8. What’s your character’s goal and who (or what) stands in the way?

Levi's goal is obviously to keep Dani out of trouble in order to keep him from failing his project. Dani is the one who stands in the way of that, as always. Dani's problem is that she wants to discover who she is, but she is so far disconnected from the life she might have had that she can't quite figure out where she fits into everything else. I'm not really sure what Ivan's goals are yet. He's still being quiet.

9. How does your protagonist change by the end of the novel?

I'm thinking that they'll all have changed drastically by the end of the novel, mostly realizing that there's nothing they have to face alone.

10. What are your book’s themes? How do you want readers to feel when the story is over?

Trust, adventure, crime, friendship. I'm sure these will evolve into other things as the story goes on, but for now, those are the book's themes. I hope that readers will feel encouraged, maybe a little sad (in a good way). I hope this book will cause them to reflect on their own lives and relationships more.

Voila!

Well, that is all! I managed to (barely) finish this before the clock strikes midnight! I'm so excited about this NaNo, and I can't wait to see where these characters will take me!

What about you guys? What are you writing for NaNo? How are you getting along with your characters? How do you prepare to write? I can't wait to hear all about your stories!

The Many Ramblings of an Excited Author

Guys. Exciting news. Like, really exciting. Seriously, you'll never guess what it is.

I STARTED A NEW NOVEL.

Okay, okay. I know. How strange is it that I - a writer, mind you - would start a new novel? How odd is it that I, of all people, would insist on writing more than one book in my lifetime? (Please take note of the sarcasm here.)

To be honest, maybe this isn't huge, exciting news for everyone else, but for me, it's like I'm getting my muse back. I was kind of starting to feel like I'd spend the rest of my days as a writer working on Pro Deo et Patria. (Fun fact: Do you know how long writers tend to write? Forever, that's how long. So, in other words, I was beginning to think I'd spend forever working on that one novel.) I felt like those charries had forced all other charries out of my head and I was just stuck with them. And only them. Forever. O__O

Of course, like any author, I love my characters, all of them, and I had a great time working on that novel. But inspiration fades when you work on one thing nonstop for - what - two years. Yeah... I needed a break.

AND I FINALLY GOT IT AND I'M SO EXCITED AND HAPPY OH MY GOSH.

Ahem. All right. I suppose you're wondering about the details of this new story (or not; either way, I'm about to tell you). I was debating on a title the other day when, suddenly, something came to mind! This rarely happens, since titles tend to give me a lot of trouble. However, this one sounded like it could work (and it was even in English this time!), so I was perfectly happy with it.

The Truth About Forever. Yes, it did sound like the title of a book. And a good one. I was proud of myself. In fact, I was so proud, I even dared to think, "Hey! That kind of sounds like the title of a book Sarah Dessen would write!" And she's one of my favorite authors. So I was super happy. It still sounded familiar, though, like a title I'd heard before, so, in order to put my mind at ease, I decided to Google it, just to make sure there was no such book out there. Lo and behold, there it was: The first result, on Amazon. The Truth About Forever is indeed a book. And by who? None other than Sarah Dessen herself. Oh, suddenly everything made sense.

For a moment, I sat there in disappointment. The perfect title was not even an original one, merely something I had read in a list of books by my favorite author at some point. However, this agony was short-lived, because that was when I remembered something my little sister had said the day before. We'd been driving by a field of dandelions, all of them a beautiful, bright yellow. "There are so many of them," she told me, "and one day, when they're the kind you can blow, we'll come back out here and make a thousand wishes."

It was a simple statement, but, to me, it held such depth. The thought of returning to this field with her and actually making one thousand wishes on each of those dandelions was beautiful, something you would see in the movies, like thousands of paper airplanes being thrown through the air, or dozens of origami swans being dropped into a pond. To me, the imagery was incredible and I couldn't imagine anything more perfect. So I wrote it down in a notebook. Maybe I'd need a title in the future.

Turns out the future arrived quickly and there I was, in search of a new name for this book. So, yeah. My newest novel officially has a title. And not one stolen from the cover of a Sarah Dessen book.

A Thousand Wishes is the name and I couldn't love it more.

The first thing that surprised me about this story was that it was not a fantasy book. Pro Deo et Patria and its sequel were the first fantasy novels I'd ever written, but I fell in love with the genre - creating new worlds, where perilous adventures and kingdoms at war were okay, filling them with dragons and elves and fairies. I thought I'd never go back to writing about anything else. I adored this genre. It was creative, fun, enchanting. Who needed regular ol' YA fiction now? I had fantasy on my side!

But no. This book decided it did not wish to be a fantasy novel. It wanted to be a young adult novel, with no dragons or fairies or worlds with names I can't pronounce. It was an odd feeling, returning to my first love in that way. It felt kind of like I'd gone on a long, far away trip, to someplace unfamiliar, and then, after countless months had passed, there I was, coming home. Familiarity surrounded me and I felt this overwhelming nostalgia. It was amazing, to be perfectly honest. I guess YA is my home, in a way.

And, as if this novel hadn't already thrown countless curveballs my way, it decided it did not want to be written like a normal book. No, if I was going to write, it was going to be something completely different and out of my comfort zone. It was, for starters, in first person. I never write in first person. Ever.

And that wasn't enough. Noooo. A Thousand Wishes refused to follow my rules. In fact, it insisted on breaking every last one of them. Meaning? "No, that's all right. We don't need to start at the beginning like a normal book. Let's just begin right here at this nice spot in the middle, when you don't know who the characters are or why they are or what they're doing. That works, right?"

It had to work, because, worse than the characters taking control of the book, the book itself was taking over. And when that happens, it might be time to listen.

I knew nothing about the characters when I started, in the middle of the story. I only knew that, at the moment, there were two of them, a brother and a sister, who'd never met before. In my head, he looked like Jordan Witzigreuter and she looked like Miranda Cosgrove. That was all the information I had when I began typing. No title, no real plot, and only two characters, without names or personalities or back stories. This is what happened:

~ * ~ * ~

He stepped into the house slowly, sneakers tracking dirt and flower petals from our garden. Upon entering, his eyes went wide, mouth forming a perfect circle as if his surprise hadn't been evident before. His bag, old and tattered, wet from the rain storm, escaped his grasp and collided with the hardwood floor, a puddle forming beneath it. I could tell he was taking it all in - the spiral staircase leading up to the second floor, the chandelier hanging from the skylight above, the black, grand piano adjacent to the wall. It must have been like something from a magazine, or straight out of a movie, a room most people would never see in a lifetime. It was nothing special, of course - most houses in our neighborhood looked identical to this - but, to people like Jordan, this was like glimpsing into another world, or, in his case, the life he might have had.

My mother entered the room now, heels clicking nosily across the floor. "Oh! You've arrived!" she cheered, clapping her hands together as she crossed the room. "I'll have George gather the rest of your things! George-" She stopped when something splattered beneath her heels, surprise forcing her to a halt. It was the water from Jordan's bag, seeping through the fabric and creating a stream across the hardwood. I bit my tongue, waiting for her to explode, to scold him for making such a mess (after all, that floor hadn't had a single drop spilled on it since 1940, when her parents had built the house), but she never did. Instead, she took a deep breath, her gaze following the trail to his bag. "Oh, dear!" I could sense the irritation under her concerned facade, but also there was a hint of sorrow, as if she felt horrible about being angry in the first place. "Is that your only bag? Surely there are more outside!"

Jordan, who hadn't uttered a word since his arrival, watched as she strode over to the window, moving the satin curtains to peer outside, in search of a taxi she would never find. "No, this is all." He barely met my gaze before stooping down and grabbing his duffel bag from the floor. Finally noticing the water, his eyes widened again and he looked like he wanted to say something, but my mother beat him to it.

"Oh, dear, a few belongings just won't do!" She crossed the floor once more, taking the bag from his hands and holding it at a safe distance, as if it carried some sort unearthly, homeless disease. "Don't you worry about this, dearie! I'll just take it and have George put away your things. Wait, where is George? Did he not hear his name being called? George! George?" And then she stalked off down the hallway, the sound of her footsteps fading in the distance.

I waited until she was gone to speak, "I'm sorry about . . . her. She can be a little-"

He raised his eyebrows. "Scatterbrained?"

"I was going to say George-oriented, but yeah, that too." I motioned around the room, where rays of light filtered in from above, littering the floor with sparkling beams. "So, what do you think?"

He glanced around the room again, as if just remembering he was still here. He wore a bewildered expression, a mixture of horror and amazement apparent on his face. "I . . . um, it's nice." He was trying his best to remain calm, to act normal, but I could tell he was still a bit overwhelmed by all of this. "So" - he shoved his hands into his pockets and met my gaze - "who was she? An aunt? A cousin?"

"My step mom, actually." I hoped my disdain wasn't evident. "Dad married her shortly after-"

"Right. I get it." He shrugged his shoulders, his struggle to appear optimistic a visible battle. "So, where is . . .?"

"Dad?" I laughed. "It's okay. You can say it, you know." I wasn't so sure I'd ever get used to all of this - the awkward, the uncertainty, my brother. "He's here, somewhere. I told him you were coming."

"Does he know-"

"No. I didn't tell him."

"Didn't tell whom what?" Laughter erupted from within my father as he emerged from the hallway, a wide, goofy grin on his face, as usual. "We're not keeping any secrets around here, are we?"

I smiled as he approached us. "Nope, just discussing the fact that I . . . forgot to tell you Jordan is allergic to sweet potatoes, so Mom can't make her famous casserole tonight. Right, Jordan?"

I looked to him for assistance, to help put my father's mind at ease, but, if he had been stunned before, he was frozen now. His mouth hung open as he stared up at my - our - father, who was several inches taller than him, with short, brown hair and identical blue eyes. I could see him analyzing this man, taking in the button-up shirt, the khaki pants, the expensive ear piece. What must this be like for Jordan, laying eyes on him for the first time? What had he imagined, when picturing his dad? Had he imagined a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy? A businessman? What could he possibly be thinking now, as he met his father for the first time in twenty, long years?

If Dad noticed his surprise, he didn't show it. "Oh, you must be Jordan." His smile widened, if possible, and he extended a hand. "Robert Forde. Pleasure to meet you, son."

Jordan's gaze flickered to meet mine before he stared back up at Dad. If only he knew.

"You, too, sir." He offered the smallest of smiles. "I really appreciate you opening up your home like this. I, uh, don't mean to intrude."

Dad gave him a hard pat on the shoulder. "It's no problem at all. Any friend of Eloise is a friend of mine."

Translation: "Any daughter of mine is a sister of yours."

Jordan didn't glance at me, instead he nodded, mustering up what little strength he had left to smile, a real one this time. "Thanks. I really-"

Dad's earpiece beeped then and he held up a finger to silence his son, pressing a button with the other hand. "Robert Forde speaking." A pause. "Oh, yes, Jerry. Thanks for getting back to me. That business deal is important and we can't afford to-" Another pause. "Yes, I know." He offered Jordan an apologetic look, mouthing "I've gotta take this" before heading out of the room. He failed to glance back at either of us.

Jordan stared after him, as if he were trying to make sense of all this. We stood there in silence, him staring into the now vacant hallway and me watching him, waiting for him to say something, anything. Several minutes passed before he finally spoke up, "So . . . That was him."

"Yeah." I grinned. "What did you think?"

He tore his gaze away from the hallway and, at last, I could see the mixture of pain and joy hiding behind that crooked smile of his. "I think I love sweet potatoes and you suck at lying."

I snorted and then we laughed, because that's what brothers and sisters do: Laugh at each other.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

So, yeah. It's not literary perfection, nor is it anything super unusual, but I guess that's what I love about YA. It doesn't have to be any one thing. It can be many different things, all wrapped into one package. The plan hadn't been to give the MMC the name Jordan, especially not when I pictured him as Jordan Witzigreuter, but, when I was going over names in my head, Jordan was the only one that fit for this character. So I left it that way.

And Eloise. Eloise was truly the last name on Earth I'd ever pick for a character, but I asked my family for help with names and one of my sisters suggested that one, among others. At first, I didn't like it at all, but something about it felt right, so, as a final surprise, my main character was named Eloise.

This book is made up of things I didn't expect.

So, to continue the trend, I wrote a blog post. Not surprising? Well, then, guess what? You just read all I've written of A Thousand Wishes. No one has ever read a whole novel of mine, but now you have. If that isn't strange, I don't know what is.

Expect the unexpected, you guys. You never know when a book might start writing itself.