Titles

As many of you know, the working title for my current MS is Magic & Mayhem. I love the alliteration, the way it gives a sense of being a historical novel (tying in with books such as Sense & Sensibility or Pride & Prejudice, for example), and that it conveys the idea of what's happening in the book without giving anything away. Perfect title, right?

Except. All of the sudden lately, I've been seeing a flood of blank & blank titles all over the place. And if there's one thing I hate, it's looking like I'm following a trend (see my other post where I mention my annoyance with many of the similarities between the Crawley sisters and my protagonist's family - I swear, I wrote mine before I ever even heard of Downton Abbey!). Not just because of hipster tendencies, but because I don't want to give a false impression of my book. As a story, it doesn't fit neatly into any genre or follow any current trends. So I would hate to lure somebody in by the title, only to have them irritated when the story reads so differently from other similarly-titled works.

So the question becomes, do I hope that by the time I have this edited, edited again, proofread, formatted, and finally published, that the blank & blank titles are less popular? Except I'm shooting for a late spring, early summer publication, even with all the work that needs to be done, so that really isn't a lot of time. Do I hope that people will be amused by the subtle Jane Austen/Elizabeth Gaskell reference and miss out on the other, more popular new titles that follow that path?

Or do I go for a different title altogether? I had been playing around with a few ideas before settling on Magic & Mayhem:

Murder of a Manservant (excuse me while I fall asleep)

Of Magic and Men (except that it's equally about men and women, and "Magic and Humankind" really sounds dull)

A Magical Mystery (booooring!)

Magical Mayhem (not bad. But not tremendously riveting)

In thinking about it just recently, as well as perusing old Victorian and Regency novel titles, I've come up with a few more:

Murder at Little Oaks (sounds like Nancy Drew - now, Nancy meets magic WOULD be a fun idea to explore sometime, but that's not this story)

The Portland Papers (since much of the story's plot revolves around needing to recover stolen papers, this one isn't too bad. I don't like that it doesn't give any hint of the magic, though.)

The Apprentice (possible, since my protagonist is a magic apprentice. Still kind of dullsville, though.)

Such Stuff as Dreams (not bad - it is Shakespeare, after all, who also provided the title for one of my short stories, so there's some continuity there. It is a little vague, though.)

Sigh. Maybe I should just hire someone to title my books for me ...

Quick! Grace! Write out a title for Mummy's book!

Magic & Mayhem, Background

I am mostly writing this to help me remember. My brain is terrible at holding onto these details.

In the spring of 2011, I was querying my completed MG fantasy, and researching and outlining a YA fantasy, as well as working on a children's fantasy. Plenty of projects, especially when one considers that I had two toddlers at the time, one with whom I was starting preschool at home, the other of whom was potty-training.

And yet ... I hated all my projects. Every time I re-read them, they seemed grimmer and more bleak. I have never been a dark writer, and I couldn't figure out why what I was writing was so gloomy (I did find out soon afterward that I was on my way to a nervous breakdown, and though I was never diagnosed officially, I'm pretty sure I also had a mild case of depression - if not that, then at least severe despondency).

So one night, I tossed aside all my projects. Put away my research books. And I decided to write something for sheer fun, without even caring if it got published or not.

I've always adored Tommy and Tuppence (Agatha Christie's creations), and any other male-and-female teams of adventurers/mystery solvers. Kate and Thomas, Cecy and James from Wrede and Stevermer's Regency fantasy series also come to mind.

I decided to write an adventure story set in the 1920s, mostly because (thanks to LM Montgomery and her Rilla of Ingleside) I've always been fascinated by WWI and especially the between-war period. It would have to be in England, of course, because anything that an Anglophile writes for fun is going to be set in Great Britain. And just for some extra amusement, I'd throw magic into the mix. I knew I wanted a gentleman-and-lady team, like Tommy and Tuppence, except I wanted the lady to be the steady, practical one, and the gentleman to be the one who worked more off his impulses and instincts. I love turning tropes on their heads.

I had a few false starts, but eventually my characters and I came to an agreement about their personalities and roles, and the story sprang to life under my fingers. I set aside the research for that YA fantasy. I put the finished MG fantasy aside to look at and revise at a later time. I forgot completely about the children's fantasy.

Most importantly, I had fun. I remembered why I loved writing. I even bought the first season of Downton Abbey (I had steadfastly resisted getting sucked in up to that point) as "background research," and was hugely amused and somewhat miffed at some of the parallels between those characters and mine.

Maia and Len and all the rest took over my writing life. And I did not resist. The story that I started just for fun, with no thought of eventual publication, eventually became the story I am planning on publishing this spring or summer, whenever I finish the last bit of polishing. It spurred me to write If This Be Magic & The Traitor and the Spy, two short stories set in the same universe but featuring different characters.

Just a few short weeks ago, I sat down to do something else entirely, and suddenly the entire plot for a prequel unrolled in my brain. I frantically scribbled down the outline and started working - again, just for fun! - on a rough draft of that. That story is now spurring me to hurry up and finish editing Maia and Len's current tale so I can work undisturbed on that one.

And just recently, I've started thinking about those three abandoned stories again, and wondering if I can give them another shot, make something less-grim of them.

The moral of this story is obvious - write for love, not for business. But I'm not recording it here as a moralistic warning to myself or anyone else. I'm writing it because it inspires me, that my best work to date sprang from writing for pure pleasure, and it helped to bring joy back into my life when I was in a very dark place. Just as the darkness in my personal life had been affecting my writing, when I started writing determined to just love it, that bled over into my personal life, and helped to bring me through that bleak tunnel.

I'm not even going to attempt sending Magic & Mayhem, Maia and Len's tale, to a traditional publisher. Everything about this story has been personal, and I think the publishing part of it should be as well. I'm going to have it professionally edited, of course! But I'm not going to risk losing some of its joy by dealing with queries, rejections, changes, frustrations, and all the rest involved in traditional publishing.

An unprofessional decision? Yeah, probably. But being unprofessional was what brought this book to life. I'm not going to change that now. I have an entire career ahead of me to be professional in. I think I can afford to indulge my whims a little right now, before that career takes off.

Maia and Len are utterly unconventional. Their creator ought to be, as well.

Help! I've Fallen ...

... into a writing slump, and I can't get up!

Although that's not as entirely true as it was this weekend. This weekend I received back the first beta read on my historical fantasy adventure, and it was so encouraging. Not just because she said nice things about my main characters and overall story (although that was awesome), but because she provided me with some solid things I could work on instead of the nebulous "something about this isn't right" that had been floating around my brain for the last few months. So now I'm getting excited to get back into editing.

Aside from that, though, I have been having problems. I have very minor edits to make on the three shorts closest to being publication-ready. I am almost finished with the major edits on the novella. The two spy shorts still need work, but I don't feel guilty about putting those on the back burner until I've finished my spy research.

So I've really no reason to be in a slump. Everything is moving along - slowly, true, but still moving. I've even started working with cover designers for the three almost-ready shorts!

And yet, and yet, and yet.

To be frank, homeschooling is kicking my butt. None of this is complicated stuff (I'm doing kindergarten and preschool, for heaven's sake), and my girls are eating it up, but I find myself struggling every day to stick to a schedule, to follow the lesson plan (we were at the library on Saturday and I suddenly realized with panic that I had NO IDEA what books I was supposed to pick up for this week's school, because I'd forgotten to check the lesson plan for this week). It will get easier (my mantra!), I know. I'm hoping by November to finally have my feet under me.

And it's going well, for the most part. We're getting together with a couple other homeschooling families once a week. Joy is reading everything she can get her hands on; Grace is consistently recognizing the alphabet and getting better with phonics; both of them love numbers ("Math is my FAVORITE," Joy tells me enthusiastically, every single day); Joy will happily spend hours covering any blank surface she can find (including the walls) with pictures as she teaches herself to draw; we go through the house and point out shapes of everything; we read and talk and do basic science projects and look at famous art pieces and listen to classical music ... they are eating it up. And when I can keep myself on track, I love it, too. I just get derailed way too easily.

And when the homeschooling gets overwhelming, everything else goes by the wayside, too. Especially writing!

I am seeing glimmers of hope. Aside from the aforementioned beta-read-encouragement, I was able to get a few hours to myself this weekend just to sit and breathe and recharge - something essential to this introvert mamma who is constantly surrounded by daily clamor of two little people always, always needing her (and occasionally one larger person, when he's home from work). I picked up Grace's quilt last night and made considerable progress on that while watching Once Upon a Time and Revenge (which last is actually boring me and I'm not planning on watching anymore - why is there no Downton or Sherlock on Sundays at nine right now??), which I had been procrastinating terribly on ever since the Olympics. I even pulled out my in-progress felt leaf banner I started making last year and never finished, and made HUGE strides on that (my goal is to get it done in time to use as decorating for Joy's birthday in November). I've been able to think about my stories without flinching.

And I got up almost a full hour before my littles this very morning, which allowed me some time to read my Bible, pray, write a blog post, breathe, and think. Always a good way to start the week!

So there is light at the end of the tunnel. I'm just hoping the tunnel doesn't twist and curve TOO many more times before I get there!

How do you get yourself out of slumps - writing or otherwise? If you are a typically disorganized person, how do you force yourself to stick to a schedule (my schedule is deliberately basic and simple, and yet I STILL can't seem to follow it)? Any homeschooling parents out there with any advice for me in getting through this first year with my sanity intact?

Rest

No kids and no husband today. Or tomorrow. So weird.

With all of our recent traveling, I ended up rather sick (again - my body hates me) this week, and rather than infect everyone around me and drag out my misery more by pushing my body beyond what it could take, I let Carl and the girls go to MA for the planned family get-together without me. I realized yesterday afternoon, as I waved them off and then faced the utterly silent house, that I haven't had more than a few hours to myself (and that rarely) ever since Joy was born. Which was almost five years ago.

So I am very much enjoying my time to rest and recharge my batteries. And the fact that I can clean my living room without having it instantly trashed as soon as I finish.

With all this wide-open space and time before me, I am gleefully planning on getting as much writing as possible done. Maybe finish the first draft of that spy novelette (or novella - I'm trying to be as concise in my writing as possible, but even so, it might stretch out for another few thousand words). Maybe work some more on my Celtic YA fantasy. Maybe even start copy-editing Magic and Mayhem (trusty copy of Line by Line by my side, naturally). Maybe work some more on that detailed outline for the MG fantasy that popped into my head the other day. I'm not letting myself write that story until I've actually finished some of my other projects (my biggest failing as a writer is starting projects and then never finishing them), but if I can get a nice, detailed outline written (my outlines are usually sparse at best), it will be a much easier task when I do allow myself to write the story.

And maybe, halfway through the day, if the rain holds off, I'll sit outside with a library book and glass of lemonade, and just read without feeling guilty about all the other things I should be doing.

I'm loving this little mini-vacation from responsibility. I should send Carl and the girls away more than once every five years, don't you think?

When was the last time you had a break from all your responsibilities, and what did you do with your time?

Back to Normal (or something like that)

Just back from a long weekend at my parents' house up in the northernmost reaches of NY state. We had a 3rd birthday party for Grace - a bunch of my aunts and uncles, cousins, my gram, and a few friends came up for the afternoon on Saturday, and we had a wonderful Beatrix Potter-themed party, accompanied by party hats decorated with animal ears and tails; a phenomenal obstacle course ("Peter Rabbit's Garden Maze") designed by my dad; dozens of balloons blown up by Carl and one of my uncles (they were wheezing all day afterward); an egg hunt ("Jemima Puddle-duck's Egg Search"), and lots and lots of food. We went through gallons of lavender lemonade: I spent half the day making refills.

Then we had a cookout for anyone who wanted to come back that evening, followed by a campfire and guitar music provided by two of my cousins (listening to my two twelve-year old boy cousins sing, in their beautiful sopranos, "Folsom Prison Blues" was probably the highlight of the night).

Sunday we lazed around and recovered from the party, had another campfire for just our family and Gram (she lives just across the driveway from Mom and Dad, on shared property, which is really nice), my parents gave Grace her birthday tricycle (we'd figured if she'd gotten it at the party, she would have forgotten everything else, so we saved it for the next day), and then Monday we packed up and drove back home. And nobody got carsick, even on the windy roads through the Adirondacks with the sun beating through the windows!

All in all, a weekend made of win.

Meanwhile, I've been working on some short stories and novellas, trying to teach myself brevity in writing (HAHAHAHAHAHA), and I'm also working on a detailed outline for an MG fantasy novel, to be written at some point in the future after I've finished all my current projects (again with the HA). I've set aside this summer for the shorter pieces, and come fall, I'll start work on the next edit of my Maia book (working title, Magic and Mayhem). The plan will probably fall to pieces within a month, but I like at least starting out with one - it makes me feel so organized.

And in other news, my not-yet-five-year-old decided this weekend was a good time to stop with "Mamma," "Papa," "Mommy," and "Daddy," and is now simply calling Carl and me Dad and Mom. It is so weird. I really must be getting old - my baby is three, and my big girl is calling me Mom!