Why NOT To Piss Off A Writer

File this under the heading: Why Not To Piss Off A Writer

Okay?

Moving forward; yesterday's work night was a good night. Why? Well, certainly not because a certain coworker has been pushing me patience toward it's limit. Actually, it's because I was a smart little cookie (writer, rather) and brought my beloved Black n' Red with me.

Black n' Red(tm) Notebook,
my good friend

So, when aforementioned jerk started pushing me, I was able to simply take out my notebook and escape the inane stupidity that was trying to force itself upon me.

I wrote most of a scene from the next book, Shadows On TheWall, in which Anthony finally pushes David to the point of violence. And you must understand, David is much like me in the respect that, while he talks a good game, he is generally laid back and non-violent.

Anywho, so, Anthony got thrown through a window (about ten stories up in a hotel) and now Cameo is cowering in the corner. And I feel fine! It's nice to be able to express myself so eloquently.

So, kids, remember this the next time you are pissing off a writer. We may not react much outwardly, but you are on our kill-off list.

There are only two types of people who sit around thinking of ways to kill off people:

Psychopaths,

and writers.

 As Castle would say, I'm the one that pays better.

When Being Happy Becomes A Problem

So, I'm pretty content at the moment. Yep. I mean, sure, there are a few things that I would love to change (having to work in customer service, oversleeping the alarm everyday, basically talking to myself and receiving odd looks for it), but on the whole I've been fairly happy in the last month.

I've settled in at the new job, got rid of the troublesome roommate, and I've been very adventurous in the kitchen lately. I'm practically on cloud nine.

Are you wondering why it almost sounds as though I am complaining?

Well, see here's the problem: I'm rewriting Shadows On The Wall. What, you mean that one sentence doesn't answer all your questions? I suppose I will explain then.

When I originally wrote Shadows On the Wall it was the spring of 2006. My sophomore year of high school, and also the year I passed the CA HS Proficiency Exam and left high school behind forever. It was the year I got my license, my first job, and we moved from Modesto to Oroville. BIG Year. (I also started writing Die For Me Again, but that was in the autumn.)

In the Spring of 2006 I let myself fall in deep deep like with someone entirely unsuitable and unavailable to me. I already loved this boy as a friend, so it was doubly bad. Unwittingly, he ended up breaking my heart that spring, or rather, I let my heart break over him. He really didn't do anything to break it, so I shouldn't blame him.

Well, those of you who don't know me all that well will not realize how catastrophic this was. I don't just get crushes on guys, when I decide I like them I go head over freaking high heels and totally lose my heart. No, really, I don't do anything halfway, especially not love. So while this wonderful boy thought we were just really good friends, I was in fact losing my mind over why he didn't like me in the same way.

When I realized he never would, and that I couldn't simply be 'just friends' with him, my heart did a weepy little break in two and I haven't been the same since. I believe that was the first time my heart was truly broken. (There have honestly only been two times in twenty-two years).

In the year following this heart break I completed two novels in the Immortal World series, one and a half standalone novels, and droves upon droves of weepy heartbroken prose.

Have you caught on yet? When I am heartbroken I write like crazy. And apparently, I write rather well because two of the most popular IW books came out of utter heartbreak.

I am now faced with two distinctly different problems, both resulting from the fact that I am in a happy state of mind currently:

1. I can't seem to write easily when I am happy.
2. Shadows On The Wall is a very emotionally stormy book, with deep lows--something that is quite hard to write from a good mood.

The answer? I'm not sure. I suppose I could go out and find some completely unsuitable man to fall head over heels for, in the hopes that he will tear my heart asunder and leave me a wasted shell of a woman....but that seems like an awful lot of work, and plus, there really aren't any worthy males to be had at the moment.

Nope, I just don't know. It's a problem, that is for certain.

Suggestions are welcome (with the understanding that, depending upon my mood, I may rip them apart or take them out of context or do any number of annoying/shannon-like things with them).

The Extra Special Birthday Surprise! (Is Here!)

Welcome to the ESBS, and thanks so much for joining me on this auspicious occasion!

You would think that just the fact that there is an Extra Special Birthday Surprise would be enough, but NO! I love my readers so much that I have made this into a two-part special!

2-parter for double the awesomeness!

Part 1: How I Met Cameo
Part 2: Prologue of Shadows On The Wall

Now that the requests have started coming in for the next Immortal World book, I am going to reassure you that the third book (#2 in the series) IS in the making! For those of you who cannot simply take my word for it, I have formed the ESBS. What better way to convince you than to introduce you to the main character?

People like to ask how I come up with the ideas for my books. Well, here's the secret: I don't. The characters find me. They are the ones telling the story. I am a vessel for their words.

In the case of Submerged In Darkness, Alex found me when I was just a fledgling writer. She convinced me that I was wasting my time trying to write about characters I created. She told me that she had a story for me to write, and then introduced me to Liam. But much like the time in Tears You Apart, when Aubri meets Angela and Connor, I could only see Damon once he was in my eye-line.

When I first finished writing Submerged In Darkness, it was just after Christmas and I was absolutely heart-broken. How could Damon be dead? You see, I had done what any good author will; I had fallen in love with my character. I wasn't sure I could write again. I know now that I was being a bit melo-dramatic, but the experience was incredibly tramatic. It was the first time I had killed a character that I was absolutely, soul-wrenchingly in love with.

The nights I had formerly spent plugging away at the keyboard were now spent staring up at the stars on my ceiling wondering, what now?

I got the answer one night. Here is the story of how I met the main character of Shadows On The Wall.

Part 1: How I Met Cameo

I lay in bed, contemplating the last pages of my latest book. Incredible, I was already wondering what I would write next. I had a few ideas of course, but nothing concrete yet. I was dressed comfortable in my favorite writing clothes: sleep pants, t-shirt, fuzzy socks. I had removed my roomy sweatshirt a few minutes before.

As I lay atop the covers on my bed, I wondered when I would see Damon again…It was something I couldn’t stop my mind from dwelling on. My decision to go back in time for my writing had been made by now. I was sure it was the right way to go. I might see him again…if not in the flesh, then at least through the memories of my characters. It was more than I had thought to hope for since finishing Submerged In Darkness.

His death nearly broke me in that first book. What would it be like to see him again? Even from afar….my heart beat unevenly for a few seconds. I missed him so. I missed his sweet laughter in my ear as I fell asleep, the teasing smile he sometimes turned on me. More than those things though, more than anything; I missed the sound of his voice. I had grown so used to it in those six months of writing…I barely knew what to do without him. It felt as though I couldn’t function properly without him.

How could I have let this happen? How could I have written his death?

An unfamiliar knock in the vicinity of my bedroom door caught me off guard. I jumped and, as I am wont to do when startled, gave a strange half-screech. My hand flew to my throat and I sat full-up.

Standing just inside my bedroom door (though it had never opened, I knew, because it squeaked terribly) was a woman I had never seen before in my life. She had shoulder-length dark red hair. In the bad light I thought her eyes were dark, but couldn’t be certain. She was only about five feet, four inches and was dressed in green cargo pants and a white spaghetti strap camisole.

I was about to scream, but she held up a hand.

“Wait.” Her voice was deep, catching me off guard, “Are you Shannon A Hiner?”

My eyes flew back and forth wondering if this was a trap. What answer would keep me alive?

“The truth, please. I was told that Shannon A Hiner could help me.”

“Who are you?” I said quickly.

“My name is Cameo.”

I repeated the name under my breath, trying to figure if I had ever heard it before. I didn’t believe I had. I looked at her afresh…she looked different. Not like a normal human. But who would send an immortal to me?

“Look,” the woman sounded exasperated, “If you’re not her that’s fine. I’ll just leave. I don’t have time to waste.”

I made a snap decision, “I am Shannon. Who sent you?”

She had been turning to leave, but when I spoke she turned back, “Someone who knows about your last project.”

“Who?” I repeated, feeling slightly testy at her evasion.

“I am not at liberty to say.”

I sighed, lying back against my pillows. The Immortal World could be such a pain in the ass.

She took a step toward me and, albeit hesitantly, sat down on the end of the bed. “I was told you could…tell stories.”

“Write. I can write stories.” I motioned to the new manuscript on my desk across the room, “If you’d like to read it I only ask that you wait until I’m done proofing it.”

The woman closed her eyes briefly and then shook her head, “No.”

My jaw clenched. I should have been used to rejection by then, but still her refusal hurt me. “That’s fine. You don’t have to. Whatever.”

“You misunderstand me, human.” She looked at her hands briefly before raising her face to meet my eyes defiantly, “I want you to tell my story. Write my story.”

“Your story…” I stared at her. Never had I imagined the characters would come to me. “I-who are you?”

She smiled bitterly, “I am not surprised you have not heard of me. I am something the vampires would like to keep quiet--a black mark on their history. Will you help me? I want the correct story to be told, not the propaganda.”

I was taken aback by the quiet fury that seethed under her calm exterior. Here was a story worth telling for sure. I had a feeling it would be harder to tell than any of the ones that had come before it. Cameo was already incredible to me, and I didn’t even know her yet.

“I will write your story to the best of my ability.”

“It’s not a happy story.” She said it as if she was apologizing.

I smiled at her, “I’ve a feeling it’s a good one though.”

“Thank you.” She stood up, “I will return tomorrow night at eight, if that is acceptable to you.”

“That sounds great.” I watched as she walked back to the door. She opened it, sure enough it squeaked, and left.

Perhaps I would be able to see Damon sooner than I had hoped.

Project Code Name: Emerald Eyes (SCRAP!)

In the depths of Sam's memory lies the project we call, (dun dun dunn) Emerald Eyes.

In my newly posted About The Author page, you will read about the time before Submerged In Darkness. In that time I wasn't writing about vampires, I was writing about elemental beings. Well what my autobio doesn't mention is that there was actually another time set between both of these stages.

Project Code Name: Jewel Trilogy
Part 2: Emerald Eyes

This was an odd time for me, somewhere between the time of elements and bloodsuckers...I had a little bit of everything in store. It was during this time that I entered The Immortal World. Just a couple toes in the water at first, it wasn't until I met Damon Reine that I was submerged.

It was at this time that Emerald Eyes was born. A wonderful commentary on my then current state of mind. While I will not be sharing Emerald Eyes with you, I would like to share a the introduction that I wrote.

The end has something that those of you who read Submerged In Darkness will recognize from one of Damon's lines.

Do you remember that part where Alexandra asks Damon,

"What exactly are you?"

He leaned forward as his eyes glittered eerily, "An immortal being of night." He paused, clearly for effect, then straightened, "At least, that's how one of my favorite authors describes my kind."

It was from Emerald Eyes that Damon drew his quote. Don't ask me why I let him read it, I never say 'no' to Damon.

Well, enough of fun facts, onto the now scrapped introduction!

Ahh, humans...An interesting topic always. Such complex creatures with such simple minds. The only way to truly understand odd creatures like them is to study their history. By far the history of Earth was one of the more fascinating things in the Universe. Humans constantly fought amongst each other for no reason. They had plenty of resources where they were, yet always, they wanted more. They know stealing, lying, and killing is wrong (no matter their religion) but they do it anyway!

Humans are weak, simple-minded creatures that have no chance of ever becoming a truly superior race. Don’t tell them that though. Humans have never had any idea that there’s someone smarter than them. They, quite simply, can’t imagine it. Well, rather, handle it. Many of them have imagined other beings...most of which have been unpleasant, but all humans would rather these beings not be real. They would do anything to keep their superior status-even if that means denying the obvious. The evidence is there.

The other beings make mistakes, show up at the wrong time, kill the wrong person...

So who are these ‘other’ beings? We are what make up your nightmares. We are what you fear, walking down that dark alley. We are the ones who can send shivers down youR spine just by passing you on the street. We take many forms. Some of us rule elements, others grace the skies. Some of us have stolen away from the underworld, while others furnish sharp teeth.

We hide from the human race for one reason, and one reason alone. True, we are ten times as strong, twice as smart, and thrice their agility...but we have a distinct disadvantage. Numbers. The humans are stupid, but there are billions more of them than us. If they realized their own inferiority they would stamp us out...leaving no trace. Without us, the human race would finally own the world, and all the creatures in it.

Until we are more than them, we are content to use their strays to multiply. Content to puppet them around the truth until we take our own. So, who are we?

We are the demons.

We are the shapeshifters.

We are the vampires.

We are the faeries.

We, are the immortal beings of night.

Fun! Huh? I love this scrap... It was also from here that I draw all inspiration for describing The Immortal World to people.