“Things Every Southern Woman Should Know How to Make”

Image
Alice clicked on the headline, mildly curious about what yet another stranger thought should be in her kitchen repertoire. Pictures of China plates mounded with crispy fried chicken, greens, cobbler, and a pile of biscuits a mile high flooded the screen, all set off with a pitcher of sweet tea beaded with condensation. The table was set; an apron draped off to the side next to a box labeled “Gramma’s Recipes” in fine calligraphy. She closed the browser and put away her tablet. She was born a Georgia peach, but she couldn’t make a cobbler to save her life. Did that mean she wasn’t southern? Or maybe just not “Southern.” For Alice, there was no recipe box full of family traditions. Her younger years were filled with rental homes in different states and her father’s voice coaxing her toward a text book rather than a cookbook. Metalworking and fabrication held more interest than learning to flambé or sauté. Did it make her less of a woman that her cooking skills consisted of fresh salads
Post a Comment

Writing Ramble: My Adventures in Plotting


I am a hardcore pantser when I’m writing. I know a mood and a general direction I want to go in, and I write.

But that’s not working for this one particular WIP. My general roll-wherever-the-words-take-me method worked for about twelve pages. Then I got stuck. I knew where I wanted to go; I even had the basic plot written down. However, I couldn’t see the details within the picture. It was like trying to do a connect-the-dot puzzle with only two dots. (The thing’s supposed to be a bunny, y’all.)

So, I did the thing I never thought I’d do.

I made an outline. Yes, an orderly, structured, numerated document of information to guide me along my way. The thing I never wrote in school until I’d already finished my paper. And once I had it nice and neat, I saved it as a separate document, and I added details in subsections until the dots started looking somewhat bunny-shaped.

It’s terrifying and so unlike me. My critique partner thinks I’ve been replaced with a pod person.

But it’s working. It’s not perfect, I’ve shuffled a few pieces around, but the words are forming.

It’s definitely a bunny.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Writer's Voice Contest Entry

Image
Okay, now that I can breathe, yay! There's an awesome contest going on, and I got in by the skin of my teeth! Here's the details: “The Writer’s Voice” is a multi-blog, multi-agent contest hosted by Cupid of Cupid’s Literary Connection, Brenda Drake of Brenda Drake Writes , Monica B.W. of Love YA , and Krista Van Dolzer of Mother. Write. (Repeat.) . We’re basing it on NBC’s singing reality show The Voice, so the four of us will serve as coaches and select projects for our teams based on their queries and first pages. And here's my entry! INSATIABLE YA Contemporary Fantasy 68,000 words Query: Every night when the houselights go down, seventeen-year-old kinetic Charlie Brimm secretly feasts on the brilliant auras of the human crowd around him. Their music-heightened, upbeat energies replenish Charlie’s own rapidly depleted energy, keeping him alive and healthy—if not completely satisfied. Then Charlie meets bard-faery and rock singer, Len. On
Read more

The Writer's Voice 2013: LEAD ME BACK HOME

Image
Woot! I won the lottery! What lottery? The one that let me into the awesome Writer’s Voice contest, hosted by Brenda Drake , Cupid , Monica B.W. , and Krista Van Dolzer . (For all the details about this contest, click here .) Thanks, beautiful hosts, for letting us stick our necks out! Query LEAD ME BACK HOME is a YA supernatural, complete at 81,000 words. Sixteen-year-old Trisha Myles thought her sister loved her. But after her sister commits suicide, it turns out she wished Trisha never existed. Confused and guilt-ridden, Trisha takes her sister’s suicide note to heart and abandons her friends and old life to become a social ghost. Not existing is sort of peaceful—until a vicious bully targets her. She’s saved by Jesse Reagan; the one guy in Hoghfield, Alabama, who outranks her as an outcast. Trisha’s desire to live blossoms, but friendship with Jesse is more than she bargained for. When she sees the slashes on hi
Read more

Ghosts...and the Girls Who Love Them Bloghop and Giveaway

Image
Here's my entry into this party. If you like what you read, let me know in the comments, and if you really like it, leave the word VOTE in the comments! You can vote between now and Oct. 1st. Enjoy! Binary Socks dangled from the slowly rotating blades of the ceiling fan. On any other occasion, Carrie would have laughed. Not this time.She had witnessed the hurricane-like destruction Daniel had wreaked, and it was a testament to his self-control that she wasn’t hurt. He stood in the only clear spot on the floor, what had been the eye of the storm. All around him,the room was littered with debris. Glittering among the boxers and tees, change from his dresser top and splinters of mirror. His college diploma he’d gotten last week. Things he would never need. Carrie repeated the words that had brought out his rage. “Daniel, you have to move on.” “I promised I wouldn’t leave you. I keep my promises.” His form solidified as anger coursed through him. When it faded, he did t
Read more