No Safety in Numbers - or Reviews

Are all books just trying to trick me now?

Hello again, readers, I have returned—all married and stuff! I hope I’m not getting back to you too late, but my return to the working world has been a busy one. Plus, my wife and I have been binge-watching episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender. She has seen fit to introduce me to this classic, another of the many reasons I love her.

Anyway, while travelling all over the place for wedding- and honeymoon-related reasons, I brought along a new book to read: No Safety in Numbers by Dayna Lorentz. I snagged it at random off the library shelves, and judging by the cover and the inside-cover synopsis, I thought it was a YA sci-fi book.

Boy, did I feel like an idiot when—about a quarter of the way through the book—I looked at the spine to note the total lack of sci-fi marker. “Oh well,” I said to myself, “as long as I’m this far, I might as well get a taste of realism-setting YA, right?”

I hope that, when you read the synopsis, you’ll forgive me for mistaking this book for sci-fi. The upshot of No Safety in Numbers’ plot is at least the start of a tasty mystery. A mysterious bomb is found in the air ducts of a giant suburban mall on a Saturday, prompting the authorities to lock down the mall. After days of being stuck in this maze of stores, people begin getting seriously sick. The reader follows the exploits of two boys and two girls in their desperate situations, trying to piece together what’s going on—and trying to survive.

Let’s skip right to my biggest beef with the book: They never do figure out what’s going on.

The bomb, the supposed source of the contagion? It vanishes. One character sees it in the first chapter, and it’s gone, poof, for the rest of the book. We never learn where it is, where the authorities moved it (if they did), and—most importantly—who put it there and why. We don’t even get a hint (unless my hunch about a casual line in Chapter 18 means something…). The bomb is a MacGuffin to the highest degree, and nobody seems interested in tracing its origins in hope of reverse-engineering a solution or something. Instead of focusing on that, our four main characters focus half on basic survival stuff and relationship angles.

And…

Um…

They do a good job of it?

I can’t tell you with authority here. I’m more into the books of a sci-fi bend, remember—books where more things happen and a plot advances. In No Safety in Numbers, the plot is more of a backdrop, a corral made of basic lumber to herd the MCs into the same mall. This book worries more about character than plot, and it seems to do OK there. No one protagonist really lit my shorts on fire, but I still developed a favorite character—because he was the one who seemed to be actually doing something. Also, the teens aren’t as horny as the characters in, say, Rise of Renegade X, which is a welcome relief.

But, even if we’re supposed to focus on the characters as the main picture, an iffy frame can still detract from the quality. Plot is the frame, and its devices aren’t great. The maneuvers of the Vague Yet Menacing Government Organization (that one’s for you, Welcome to Night Vale fans,) keeping everyone in the mall seem weird at best and stupid at worst. Adult figures, with the possible exception of someone’s Nani, aren’t much more than plot devices. Because we’re focusing on character, the plot developments aren’t as dramatic as they could be; the revelation of the disease seemed rather lackluster, for example.

Then there’s the arc. No Safety in Numbers is the first in a series, but it feels like the story was cut off at the wrong point, at the moment of rising action. The story even ends on a dramatic revelation we really could have used, say, two-thirds of the way into the book rather than at the conclusion. Characters are in random places doing random things, not in a stable location where we can pick them up later. Worst of all, it seems like there’s no reward for reading the book. No main characters achieve a significant victory (except maybe Marco). Nothing is answered; we just have a pile of extra questions we need to remember for next time. The book just…stops. It feels like an amateur’s division of a story that’s taking long to finish—and trust me, I speak from personal writing experience.

My recommendation? If you’re a character-relationship-obsessed person, you might want to give this book a try. If you’re more like me, you should pass. Sorry, Dayna, but I’m not looking for the next book in the series. I can see it’s at least a trilogy, which means I’ll probably get little satisfaction out of the second book too.

Now, everyone hold on to your seats; just like I did in my last review, here are the reading notes I took for No Safety in Numbers. Enjoy!

Note: the book’s chapters aren’t actually numbered, I just did that myself.

***

Chapter 1: Fast start, and it looks like we’re exploring modern issues.

Chapter 2: Probably a relatable family setup for some people. Also…I see this is a 2012 book, but if the end of this chapter leads where it sounds like it will, it could get pretty progressive up in here.

Chapter 3: Beginning of chapter: SLOW DOWN! End of chapter: OK, I know more about Shay than Ryan—why?

Chapter 4: Beginning of chapter: I didn’t, say, accidentally skip a few chapters, did I? End of chapter: OK…again, still pretty fast.

Chapter 5: Getting somewhere. I hope this book wasn’t lying about being sci-fi.

Chapter 6: Oh, that’s who those guys were! I need to stop spacing out chapters.

Chapter 7: Carry on…

Chapter 8: Thank you, author, for interrupting that forming love triangle. Also, I’m an idiot—it says nothing about sci-fi on this book’s library tag.

Chapter 9: Mall plot is getting padded out.

Chapter 10: OK, security is ramping up, but I still don’t have a good enough idea of the severity of the shutdown to justify their actions! Please tell me this book isn’t going to make security and the senator the villains…

Chapter 11: So…was there a point to that chapter?

Chapter 12: Beginning of chapter: No no no, page 125, you do NOT summarize that conversation; turn it into meaningful, character-building dialogue! End of chapter: I wish there was a joke attached to the following phrase, but…that escalated quickly.

Chapter 13: Uh…it would have been nice to have a better picture of the rock wall before we started talking about potentially kinky harnesses.

Chapter 14: Come on—just say you heard there’s a fever going around, made more potent by the close-proximity confinement! You wouldn’t technically be lying!

Chapter 15: WHOA, MARCO, PETTY MUCH? In one page, I lost all respect for you!

Chapter 16: Can something non-relational happen and be, you know, significant to the plot? I’m suffering from major-development deficiency.

Chapter 17: Yes, Lexi, it’s all your fault. Plus, the bomber reveal had better be hella surprising, heaven knows the disease wasn’t.

Chapter 18: Beginning of chapter: Whoa whoa whoa—the bomb threat started on a Saturday, but that guy said he hadn’t slept since Friday…is he the bomber? End of chapter: Taking that death pretty well, ain’t’cha…

Chapter 19: Yay! Things are happening!

Chapter 20: It’s official, I like Ryan the best. At least he seems to be an active agent, even if he’s only being dragged along by Mike and Drew.

Chapter 21: Beginning of chapter: Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to this new character who has materialized before us: Horny Marco. End of chapter: Ooo, plot things…

Chapter 22: Beginning of chapter: I like the word “crapaclysm”. End of chapter: Unless I get more reasons, I’m going to label this the dumbest quarantine ever.

Chapter 23: Good going, keep it up…

Chapter 24: Oh, come on! Him, really?

Chapter 25: The medical/government forces of this world are morons. Plus, am I a bad person for being grateful one character has finally passed away?

Chapter 26: Look, I’m glad my favorite character is still alive, but can’t we at least have a clever plan that GOES SOMEWHERE?

Chapter 27: Really, a fire extinguisher? Plus, while I appreciate this chapter’s subject actually doing stuff, I still think he’s the villain here.

Chapter 28: Nothing like trauma to reunite a family. But…where did the stampede go?

Chapter 29: Beginning of chapter: Hey, something new! End of chapter: Nice twist—BUT WHY THE F*** WASN’T THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BOOK? WHY ISN’T ANYTHING TIED OFF IN A SATISFACTORY MANNER? THIS ISN’T AN ENDING; THIS IS AN AUTHOR KILLING A PROJECT AFTER WRITING HERSELF INTO A CORNER! AND WHAT ABOUT THAT GUY WHO HADN’T EATEN SINCE FRIDAY? Also, why the bomb? Who put it there? Is that massively important device a mere MacGuffin to make the character-relationship study happen? RRR!

***

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to subscribe!

Renegade X Review - With Chapter notes!

Come on, Chelsea M.Campbell.

When I picked up your book, I was expecting deep superhero stuff. I was expecting a young rebel to question what it truly means to be a hero or a villain, to weigh the good against the evil, determine the difference between what is good and evil, and maybe refine his philosophy by getting his teeth kicked in before ultimately emerging triumphant or something.

Instead, I got the horniest bunch of teenagers on any given side of the railroad tracks.

The Rise of Renegade X all but called out to me from the shelves with its synopsis. In its world’s central setting, Golden City, heroes and villains (both sides have superpowers) are commonplace—and tourist attractions. When they turn 16, people of hero lineage have one of their thumbprints morph into an H while the villains get a V. Damien Locke, the proud son of a supervillain-ess, discovers his unknown father was a superhero when his thumbprint turns into an X, casting a shadow across his otherwise rosy path toward villainy. As a consequence, he ends up living with his hero father’s family, a situation he will set out to rectify by trying double-hard to become the villain he was always meant to be…

So, what does he do? Unleash plague on his new step-family? Burn their house to the ground, and then burn the ground? Invent a mind control device to bend his step-family to his will?

Nope.

He makes risqué jokes, does juvenile pranks (i.e. worms in the shampoo), and is generally a brat. When he’s not trying to “I’m-not-touching-you” his step-family to death, he’s just an all-round hornball, trying to French hot girls no matter how much he “doesn’t want to.”

It’s not like he’s starved for targets, either. Everybody, and I mean everybody who isn’t under 8 years old, is horny as s***. Every time a sex-related theme is brought to the table, be it perversion, fornication, sodomy, teen pregnancy, or outright assault, it’s handled with disturbing casualness. In one particular case, a friends-with-benefits relationship is discussed as a mere science project. There’s hardly any philosophical inquiry into what makes a hero a hero and a villain a villain; Megamind had more depth in this angle than Renegade X, not to mention—spoiler alert—a more convincing transition of a dedicated villain into a sort-of hero.

That’s the book’s biggest problem, in my semi-professional opinion: who on earth is the audience? With an uncomplicated plot and simplistic tone, this seems like a book for the lower end of the teen scale. However, with the shamelessly sexed-up teens, the subject matter veers into the upper-teen category, and it seems to want to take these teens further into adult territory. I mean, this book lured me in with promises of HIVE, and while there is an actual superhero-ish plot, it’s only there for one-fourth of the book—and that’s a generous estimate. Instead, it looks like H.I.V.E., got pillaged by Twilight, left for dead as a weird teen romance book.

Also, we visit Vilmore, a villain academy, which is never described. I never get to bathe in its villainy. Instead, we visit a nondescript dorm room where—shocker—there’s a bunch of making-out going on (out in the open, anyway, but we can get a good idea of what goes on behind closed doors).

And the plot’s kinda predictable.

And the ultimate villain is just some idiot bloke, really.

And there’s a shapeshifter girl whose power is never used as a major plot twist. Come on! That’s like the first thing you’re supposed to do with a shapeshifter! She could have had any other superpower!

And the reason for the Hs and Vs on thumbs is because the long-ago-heroes developed a virus to mark the villains with Vs, who in turn made a virus to mark the heroes with Hs—which means, in my opinion, the early villains were knuckle-dragging morons. If you can make thumb-letters from viruses, why not mark the heroes with Vs too? Can you imagine the results, the book we’d get instead? All of society having to discern between the heroic and villainous superpowered people as individuals, seeing beyond the semi-racist stereotypes and asking their own philosophic questions? Imagine heroic individuals having an excuse to be villains! Imagine softcore villains sheepishly straying into the path of the righteous! Imagine the story that could have been (unless the author is planning on using that idea in a sequel)!

So, as far as this book goes—do I hate it?

Actually, not really.

Heaven knows I don’t hate it as much as Enclave.

This book has its shining moments, especially when it lets the superhero side shine through and Damien is more than horny a-hole. I love the rare occasion he does an actual supervillain-y thing (i.e. his petty vengeance on someone he invited to his birthday party). I love the scene where his stepfather tries to teach him to fly. I love some of Damien’s one-liners, and the last sentence of the book is one of the best closing remarks I’ve seen in a YA book in a long, long time. The plot, while simple, has a nice arc and a good climax. One of the relationship threads was tied off with surprising maturity. Heck, even the horniness is likely a representation of the world and mindset in which the author grew up, now being conveyed to us. I don’t have to like the mindset, but if it’s all the author knows, that’s understandable.

I still feel betrayed, though. Looking at everything about this book, I thought it was going to teach me its own perspective of what makes a hero or villain. Instead, I’ve got casual sex references. Maybe that does it for you, but it’s not my thing. If you want to take a look at it, go ahead, but I give the whole thing a soft pass.

(Seriously, I think the only advice the author was given about boys when she was growing up was, “They only have their minds on one thing,”—and then she wrote a whole book about it.)

One more thing: there’s a major character in the book who takes notes on everything. Well, isn’t that a coincidence! With this book, I test-ran a discipline of writing two-sentence summaries of individual chapters, so I’ve got notes too! Here they are, chapter by chapter. Feel free to read them in tandem with the actual book.

Ben’s notes: The Rise of Renegade X

Chapter 1: Nice city concept, but I guessed the big surprise by page 14. Liking the MC’s evil s***, though.

Chapter 2: Turkey baster joke was boss. Sex references are pretty casual; guess that reflects the times.

Chapter 3: Tension low, but isn’t it how funny how casual sex/relationship attitudes lead to dumb, overdramatic complications? Also, how can Kat’s mom be part of a supervillain family and fall for such an illogical and obviously manipulative lie?

-        (Also, page 51: please tell me you’ve heard of Cyclops and you were being sarcastic.)

Chapter 4: OK, that was quick; still being casual as hell. I do, however, like the idea of Damien’s fake diary—if that’s not what I’m reading right now.

Chapter 5: I’m getting a lot of he-says-it’s-not-going-to-happen-but-we-all-know-it’ll-happen-anyway vibes. Very much forward to where Damien’s list of enemies will go.

Chapter 6: Just a random collection of scenes, and Damien’s equation seems to be soft hero plus douche. I think this book might be taking an overall racism-perception path.

Chapter 7: Beginning of chapter: WTF is going on here? End of chapter: Why is it, whenever Damien’s plans come to fruition, I’m left asking, “That’s IT?”—and why is half the book’s data conveyed with a character quote immediately followed by a non-quote first-person monologue?

Chapter 8: The first half of this chapter is friggin’ awesome, plus it looks like the plot is gaining steam. My money is on Damien having to fight his mom at the climax or near-climax.

Chapter 9: OK, 1) STOP THE CASUAL SEX REFERENCES, AND 2) SHOULDN’T YOU BE THRILLED IF PEOPLE THINK YOU’RE A VILLAIN? What, is your only evil trait your hyper-sexed teen brain?

Chapter 10: Beginning of chapter: WHA—FU—JUST LIKE THAT—WHAT ABOUT JACK—THAT’S F***ING ALL??? End of chapter: Almost had something interesting happen back there—AND SARAH, JUST TELL DAMIEN WHAT YOUR F***ING GUN OF PLOT CONVENIENCE DOES!

Chapter 11: Beginning of chapter: Wait—describe Vilmore! End of chapter: HOLY S***, IS EVERYONE IN THIS BOOK HORNY??

Chapter 12: Beginning of chapter: Lemme get this straight…you’re on your way to rescue your father, Sarah, and all you can talk about with Damien—another minor like you—is having experiment-like SEX?? End of chapter: Having a hard time caring about any of this.

Chapter 13: Beginning of chapter: So…in this author’s head, superheroes are racists (although they get an OK scene in this chapter) and these teens are her personal porn fantasy—got it. End of chapter: DO SUPERVILLAIN THINGS; THAT’S WHY I PICKED UP THIS BOOK!

Chapter 14: Almost had an interesting scene there—but then eight tons of tangled-relationship s*** smothered that sucker. Plus, Damien, don’t you WANT to be pegged as a villain, you inconsistent douche canoe?

Chapter 15: Beginning of chapter: You did NOT just put one of those cliché romance scenes in this supposedly superhero/supervillain book! End of chapter: Like mother, like son; when I heard Ms. Locke’s plan (which I more-or-less predicted), I caught myself thinking, “That’s IT?”

Chapter 16: Starts with a dick-measuring contest and ends with the plot-turnaround of every MacGyver episode. But hey, the plot’s moving.

Chapter 17: Surprise twist, but handled with zero drama; why is it the relationships are dramatic but the plot isn’t? On the plus side, Damien’s a little more interesting when the plot is moving—yet Megamind at the END of his titular movie is more of a villain than he is—and one relationship thread seems to have been tied off with surprising maturity.

Chapter 18: Beginning of chapter: He’s gonna fly. End of chapter: …OK, maybe not now, but he’s gotta soon.

Chapter 19: OK, I like that “As long as my mouth works” line—good one. Decent climax action, too—props.

Chapter 20: Wait…we’re…OK with superhero stuff now? I’d say it’s abrupt, but this guy has been in the hero-ish denial zone for a while…

Chapter 21: Might as well use the end to remind us how, in the end, everyone in the book is horny. However…there is absolutely nothing wrong with this book’s concluding sentence.

***

Final note: It might be a while before you hear from me again; I’m getting married in a couple of weeks—to somebody who likes to hear me rant about books. No romance novels can beat that.

Dreadful Sorry, Ann Aguirre

Those of you who have been following my blog for a while now (bless you, poor souls) know that one of my favorite "whipping books", a baseline for all I do not like about young adult sci-fi/dystopia fiction, is Rick Yancey's 5th Wave. I have ranted about it before ad nauseam, and it has been one of the few books that has evoked in me real, visceral anger in me while I was reading it.

Until recently, that is.

Before we get this slugfest going, though, I do want to make clear that I hate criticizing a book to death. As a writer myself, I know there was someone who--hopefully--put time, effort, and passion into their work, and I would rather write lavish praise for something I've read than put it through the wringer. However, Enclave by Ann Aguirre leaves me no choice in the matter. For pity's sake, the author is a New York Times bestseller! She has a degree in English Literature and is a fan of Doctor Who!

In the immortal words of Treebeard, "A wizard should know better!"

Yes, reading this book makes me angry. It makes me so angry that my fiancee will go on video calls with me just to watch me read it. In this case, I thank Enclave for strengthening our relationship, as my fiancee hasn't broken off our engagement after 1) seeing what happens when I get mad, and 2) hearing my terminal case of potty mouth. It's these kinds of stories that can turn a reasonable, levelheaded guy into the Nostalgia Critic, I swear.

Here's the quick synopsis: it's a YA dystopisa. Blah blah fighting main-character-girl, blah blah world almost ended, blah blah brooding soon-to-be-boyfriend, blah blah cast out of her society, blah blah wandering ruins. The blurb on the cover says this book is for fans of The Hunger Games, but honestly, I'm getting a lot of watered-down Maze Runner--if the main character from Divergent were the lead instead.

What's this dystopian world like? Well, this is where my first major criticism of Enclave comes in: hardly anything gets described. If Aguirre has a grand, breathtaking image in mind for her world, heaven knows she's not telling us. The book has two main settings--underground tunnels and overworld wreckage--but the few-if-any descriptions are all stock footage, bland and hard to visualize. The main character (whose name is Deuce, by the way) does not let herself go when it comes to new and unusual things, often covering them in her first-person narrative in a way that feels almost disinterested. I will give Aguirre credit: the books starts imaginative in the underground society's structure and rituals, but that all gets lost in the second half of the book when Deuce and her boring brooding boyfriend Fade reach the surface of the scorched earth.

Up there, our heroes even run into a gang--and all I know about them is they are 1) male, 2) rapists (sort of--Deuce remains unaffected), 3) they paint themselves somehow, and 4) they carry weapons of some sort. That's it. Their leader, Stalker, has facial scars that Deuce somehow knows are self-inflicted, but that's it. In my mind's eye, I've been picturing a roving band of creepy clowns, pies in one hand and knives in the other, and that image has never been contradicted. Plus, the descriptions often contradict themselves. Deuce can see the moon and stars on page 142 and, with no transition or explanation, it's raining on page 143. There's daylight on page 194, but--without a scene shift or significant passage of time--the sun hasn't come up yet in page 198.

Aguirre never milks a scene for all its worth. Major characters and supposedly surprising plot twists just come and go in the eyes of the tell-don't-show protagonist. This has been the case with nearly all the book's descriptions, especially in the second half; they come either too late or not all. I have a theory that Enclave's editor either gave up halfway through the book or, having been told this was book one of a series, thought he/she was done with the job after editing the first part.

There are a whole host of other issues I have with the book, including:
- Unrealistic combat (mid-combat reflectiveness, dumb banter, a slave becoming a super-soldier when she holds a club, and, I'm not kidding, someone wins a fight with a kick to the crotch);
- Zombies (yes, there are friggin' zombies from the get-go);
- Adverbs are friggin' everywhere;
- Deuce starts the book almost illiterate, and then--for no reason--can read well in the second half (also, in her narration, she does not know what "evacuation" means but does use words like "chagrined");
- Deuce and Fade are literal messiah figures, offering themselves up for friends and such with hardly any motivation or deep thought/conflict;
- Nonsensical character actions (Deuce and Fade are all gung-ho about the zombies getting supposedly smarter, but after their elders dismiss their report for no friggin' reason, the romantic duo seem to forget about the threat too);
- Character conversations, in the middle of which are paragraphs (FULL PARAGRAPHS) of Deuce monologuing for no d*** reason;
- Stupid and short-lived love triangles (Deuce isn't the only one after Fade's organic pogo stick, if you get my drift; she becomes a real b**** if there's a remotely attractive female within 50 yards of her man--but it's OK, because that female is usually dead within a couple chapters!);
- Secondary characters whose personalities and traits are boring and forgettable;
- Primary characters whose personalities and traits are boring and forgettable;
- Authority figures who are royal A-holes for no reason other than the fact they are authority figures;
- A shoehorned-in rich-people-are-evil message dropped on page 189 for no d*** reason.

There are more points I'm probably forgetting, but here's one more I have to mention; it's the reason I can never forgive Enclave even if it explodes into gumdrops or something. I refer to page 153: Deuce gets captured by a gang whose leader, of course, wants to have his way with her. He leaves her to a slave girl who's supposed to clean her up. Deuce sees this girl, bruised and quite obviously abused in every imaginable way.

What does she think? I'll quote the book:

"She left my hands tied. Smart girl. Well, relatively. She couldn't be too smart if she took those bruises without complaining, but as I knew, you got used to anything."

It was at this point I stood up and hurled the book across the room. There you have it folks; our main character, who has already been set up as a strong, confident woman in the vein of Captain Marvel, is shaming an abuse victim while knowing next to nothing about her. This book was written by a woman, people! What the flying f***?

I...just...RRRR.

(*bites book in half and spits out fragments*)

Deep breath...

I could keep ranting, but we're running out of time here. I will admit this book educated me to the proper use of the word "ahold"; I thought Aguire was using it incorrectly on page 193, but I checked a dictionary and was proven wrong. Point goes to Enclave there.

Final thing to bear in mind: I'm only up to page 200 out of 259. It's taking me a while to read this book, especially when I have to wait for my fiancee to be free for a video chat. However, I do believe I am far enough along in this book to give you my too-honest impressions. Who knows, though? Maybe I'll get sold on this book in the last 60 pages; if that's the case, I'll be sure to return and let you know the error of my ways.

I'm not holding my breath, though. Here's all I can say for now: hard pass on this book. After I'm done ranting my way through this first book, I doubt I'll have enough energy or interest to see what happens next.

***

Note added later: Nope, it didn't get better. A forced love triangle, spelled-out lessons meant for infantile readers, and a saccharine ending were but a few nails in the book's casket. To finish it off, even the author's note at the end was messed up. It added details that she should've conveyed in the book if she had any wherewithal, and she spelled the name of William Perry, Arctic explorer, as "William Parry".

So, do I still give a hard pass to this book? No. I say this book needs ripped from the shelves and burned with the supervision of your local exorcist, at least in my semi-professional opinion. Well done, Ann Aguirre. You've finally gotten me off Rick Yancey's case, as Enclave has taken 5th Wave's place as my official Horrible Book of This Generation.

I'm sure Yancey will appreciate your sacrifice.

No post today

Sorry all, but I'm clocking out for this first half of June. Try to guess the reason why:

A) It slipped my mind;
B) I'm slogging through another YA book that requires every once of optimism to continue;
C) I've been working a lot lately;
D) It's finally nice weather outside;
E) All of the above;
F) None of the above.

Hopefully, I'll tell you the answer in mid-June. Have a great summer!

That Was Quick

I don't know what happened, really.

In January, after I got done with my NaNoWriMo project, I re-edited a couple of older manuscripts I had. Boy oh boy did they need editing; for one of them, I basically stripped it down the the bare skeleton, rearranged the skeleton, and put new stuff back on. A time-intensive process, but hot d*** was it worth it! Those books are a million times better (not to mention a little bit longer) than they were when I cracked them open.

With those major projects behind me, I re-opened my NaNo project after its half-year of stagnation, allowing all the speed-written madness to boil over and become apparent in all its hideousness.

...and I'm done with that round of edits already. Didn't even take me a month. Heck, I shotgunned the last few chapters, it was going so smoothly.

What?

It's kind of nice to have a manuscript go past my critical eye so fast, but that doesn't mean I don't find it weird. Maybe that's the way it is on all my second drafts; I remember going through my earlier manuscripts with a similar speed. Maybe I have (believe it or not) grown as a writer, and my speedwritten stuff has more thought behind it than my earlier works.

However, I think the most likely reason of all is I was editing the NaNo manuscript after I'd gotten done reading my new least favorite YA book in history. In my mind, my first draft was friggin' glowing in comparison. That might have been because I didn't have rape-victim-shaming in my work, and I am more than happy to leave it out.

So, there we go. Now I need to find willing reviewers for my manuscript while I go review something else.

One more thing: with all this editing, coupled to my job of newswriting and the fact I keep writing these posts at the last minute, I'm going to be withdrawing my bi-monthly deadline for this blog. I'll keep posting with book reviews and other interesting writing-related stuff, but at the moment, I'm going to give this particular platform a break. Maybe I'll haunt Twitter more often--until the 2020 elections, when I'm not touching that forum with a 100-foot ethernet cable.

Have a great summer!

Just Rambling

It’s mid-May. Where to begin…

I’m still editing like my life depends on it—which it might, really—but I’ve also picked up another YA dystopian novel I plan to read at some point. I’d never heard of this book before I saw it on the library shelf and it’s not in front of me right now, so I can’t remember the title. It was one of those titles that was meant to easily turn up in a Google search: “The E______”, and that’s all that comes to mind. The Enclave? The Excess? The Extravagance? I’m not sure, but I’ve never had the best memory for names in the first place.

There is a review-blurb for the book that caught my eye, though: “Fans of the Hunger Games will love this.” Heaven help us if authors are mandated to provide the whole, contextualized review with their books, because that blurb smelled a little weird. Plus, after reading the synopsis on the inside cover, I think I already know what the book’s twist is (the mutant creatures to be avoided are impoverished humans, right?).

“But Ben,” I hear you saying because that’s how my superpowers work, “why are you picking up a book you’re all but certain you won’t like?” Answer: because I’m still editing. I need to feel a little better about my own haphazard ramblings, much like the ones you’re reading right here.

OK, the reason is a little less shallow than that. The last time I read a book with too many filler words and adverbs, it inspired me to take a look back at my own work—and rediscover all the filler words and adverbs I was using. Now, though, I need to pray my revisions aren’t being clouded by the Associated Press style I have to use for work.

I do also get pleasantly surprised when I find a dystopian YA novel I like—which makes me want to edit my books more. In conclusion, reading makes me want to edit. I’m going to get right back to that.

Happy May!

An Open Letter to Subnautica: Below Zero" Developers

Dear team-behind-Subnautica-Below-Zero,

Ben Sonnek here, longtime Subnautica fan, currently hooked by the in-development Subnautica Below Zero. Here’s a quick summary of this letter: gushing praise, a couple concerns, and an idea.

Let’s start with the praise.

I’ve enjoyed UnknownWorlds’ survival games since the first Subnautica was still in its beta version. There were no alien bases implemented yet, the Seamoth submarine was a recent invention, and my old laptop could hardly keep up with the graphics so the water looked like a wavy blue quilt. However, my love of sci-fi and aquariums convinced me to buy the game soon after I saw the first ad on Steam, and I haven’t regretted it since, especially after I upgraded laptops and can see the water properly (and the framerate doesn’t plummet when a leviathan is around, an occasion that has led to many Seamoth maulings).

Then the beta for Subnautica Below Zero got released.

Needless to say, I have not regretted that purchase either. Now I have the unique privilege of being with this project from more-or-less the beginning, and I like the game’s look and what I’ve seen of the story so far.

FYI, I’m writing this letter between the Seatruck update and whatever update is slated to come next. Here are some cues as to how far I’ve gotten in the story so far:

Now, Part 2: the concerns.

First, I might ask you to pay all gamers’ PTSD therapy bills once you apply the leviathan-class predators to the game. I’ve seen the concept art.

Second (and last), I wonder about your choice to make Robin speak. (To any other readers not familiar with Subnautica Below Zero, Robin is the character whom you play in the game.)

See, I can’t remember the name of the main character in the first Subnautica game unless I look it up—and I consider that a good thing. That poor unfortunate diver never said anything except for grunts of pain, usually because of those friggin’ Crashfish. I liked that a lot as a player; you could project onto the guy more easily if he said nothing and we supplied the voice lines. You felt like you were him, wincing when the edges of the screen went red from an injury. It was like playing an underwater version of Chell from Portal 2, another of my all-time favorite games.

Robin, while an enjoyable character, has conversations with her sister in an overhead space station. Part of the thrill of the first Subnautica was that the character, a crash survivor, was on his own and with minimal backup. You don’t get that when Robin is making cutesy remarks to her unseen sister. Plus, about those remarks—while the first Subnautica protagonist was project-able with his silence, Robin’s dialogue could rub some players a little weird. I know this is very much an early-development concern; hey, I remember a lot of voice logs changing before the final release of Subnautica 1.0. Still, I’d like to address the issue. A lot of games give the first-person character dialogue, I know, but after using a silent protagonist in the first game…is it a wise choice now?

Maybe. I can’t always oppose a fresh take on something. Subnautica itself was a fresh take on survival games.

However, before Below Zero goes deeper into development—minor pun not intended—I wanted to slide this concept past you first, a concept that mostly maintains everything Below Zero has set up so far:

What if we players were Alan, the alien AI?

(Again, for those of you not familiar with Below Zero and didn’t read that PDA screenshot up there, Robin accidentally downloads an alien AI into her head in the game. The AI’s seed code is Al-An, so Robin calls it Alan.)

Anyway, here’s the picture: the game starts with the black screen and the “Unknown Worlds presents” text, like the first Subnautica. Unlike the first Subnautica, though, the sound you hear with the black screen is not the sound of an exploding spaceship. It’s the sound of an alien computer booting up.

The screen fades in, revealing the inside of an alien facility. The player can’t move, but instead watches Robin enter and activate the console. BAM—and the player can see from Robin’s perspective. We can move around as her. We can also hear her dialogue, freaking out over how she can control her mind and mouth…but not her muscles.

The player, playing as the downloaded alien AI, has taken those over. We become an AI that has control of a human host.

Think about it: the AI could have no memory of itself or its functions, like the player. It would also know nothing of Robin, again like the player. The AI and Robin would have to work together to solve the mystery of this section of Planet 4546B, learning more about each other while not alerting Alterra that one of their own is being controlled by alien tech. This way, Robin can keep her dialogue while not contradicting whatever the players are thinking. As the silent AI, we’re free to roll our eyes, laugh, and/or give the thumbs-up, not jolt out of character because Robin said something quippy when her controlling gamer would rather hide in a snowbank. If the AI has no lines, we players will naturally add our own, like we do in the first Subnautica.

The aliens couldn’t communicate in human language in the first game, and I was a little wary about their technology’s voice lines in Below Zero’s early release. Don’t get me wrong, they sound awesome, but I felt a little of the alien mystique was lost with their first words to humans. If the player were a silent AI, the mystique remains, and part of the story could be Robin figuring out how to converse with the alien being possessing the majority of her motor functions.

As a final point, I think the player-as-Alan angle would add a unique tension to the game. As the AI, players cannot explain themselves to the host and will sympathize with her unique plight. When diving into harm’s way, it will be like driving your best friend’s car through a demolition derby; you don’t want to hurt yourself or your friend. You have to pray that, as the story goes, Robin trusts your actions more, maybe moving into the relationship of grudging friendship—although that won’t stop her from strongly questioning your sanity when you have to dive into deeper, darker regions of the sea. Maybe the gameplay can give the AI-player and Robin a chance to communicate through, I don’t know, computer prompts or something. The twists write themselves: the player learns about Robin through voice lines and data logs—while also learning about the AI host’s history. Maybe the possessing alien program was decommissioned and memory-wiped for mismanaging the disease from the first Subnautica story, or something like that.

Then, the ending! As a semi-reversal of the first Subnautica, in which the player left via rocket, the player-AI in Below Zero could leave Robin and allow her to escape in a rocket on her own, watching the smoke trail leave the planet’s atmosphere.

Anyway, that’s my idea, and I think it has plenty of room for an Unknown Worlds spin that will blow everyone’s mind. Take it or leave it; I won’t be heartbroken if Below Zero’s plans are set in stone already. Looking at Subnautica 1.0, I have no cause to worry about 2.0’s trajectory. To wrap it up here, keep up the good work. To inspire you, here’s one of my most encouraging Subnautica screenshots of all time:

No! Wait! I meant this one. My bad.

Whether or not you read this…thanks for everything!

(Note from a few days later: Forget the thanks. The Snowfox update just came out, and...how many nightmares did you guys have to harvest to make the Chelicerate leviathan? Really???)

A Question of Editing

Happy almost Easter, readers! No book review today; lately, I've been waist-deep in stories with both newswriting and manuscript editing. I'm also trying to invent a sort-of board game with Legos, because why not.

However, I'm not leaving today blank. See, before I go back and edit my NaNoWriMo project, I am determined to work over a completely different manuscript, and boy-oh-boy-oh-yikes-oh-run-for-cover does it need a rework. I already have plans slated for scene reworking, segment rearranging, character working, and other stuff that will probably increase my word count. At least I'm getting rid of those words like "finally", "slowly", "suddenly", and "began" which annoy me like you wouldn't believe.

The manuscript is going through such a rework, though, that I am reminded of the classic writer's advice for first drafts: throw them away and start over. I've never followed this advice; I'm more of a recycling kind of guy because I never throw out something I'm going to use again. I'm too concerned to pitch the million errors along with the one good point in the narrative. Besides, is it really necessary in the age of word processors to start over? Unlike ink on paper, words and paragraphs are modular on the screen. Writing is more like building with Legos than sculpting from marble.

But what do I know? That's why I'm asking you. What's your preferred mode of major draft editing? If you want to share your wisdom, feel free to comment on this post or on its links on my Facebook or Twitter pages. By the way, before you tag your editing style as "Wailing and grinding of teeth", remember that's something ALL writers do when perusing their catalog of errors.

Twilight: A Surprisingly Good Book!

It's April 1st.

Do I really need to spell out what's going on here?

READ THIS BOOK

See this book? It's The Initiation by Chris Babu. Now go read it.

Yes, that's right; for once in my book-reviewing life, I am strongly recommending a book. One testimony in favor of the book is the fact that this review is going to be short; I'm writing it at night after shotgunning the last chapters. Those of you who know my stalwart support of Trenton Lee Stewart know, then, how high a compliment I'm giving when I say the The Initiation is like a dark, dystopian The Mysterious Benedict Society. It's that good.

What can I say? It's well-paced and has a recognizable story arc. The main characters--even the less savory ones--are distinguishable and even sympathetic. There's natural tears and natural humor. There's a love triangle (can this really be Benjamin Sonnek saying this?) that sorta makes sense and doesn't bog down the plot. The writer doesn't fall into the rich-people-bad-everyone-else-good trap of other YA dystopia; there is nuance and reasoning behind the world that is built up. The adverbs and filler words I've lamented in recent reviews are hardly a presence, and therefore the writing sucks you in. The descriptions are vivid without being too lengthy. It's complex and doesn't pander. The brainteasers in the story are legit puzzles, which was one factor that brought me back to The Mysterious Benedict Society.

Basically, this is the YA dystopia I've been trying to find for a while now. It's one of the few books I know about that I, in all probability, will buy when I see it in the bookstore. The sequel to The Initiation--namely, The Expedition--is already out, but before I read it, I might wait a little longer for the next book in the series to come out too. After all, if this is going to be a trilogy, I don't want to be left hanging while I wonder whatever's going to happen next. Well done, Chris.

YA Hopes "Surfacing" Once Again

As spring emerges, so also do I emerge with warm feelings. After some mild disappointment with Erin Bowman's book Contagion, I temporarily swore off the hardcover YA novels, searching for stories in the lesser-known paperbacks in the same general vicinity. My goal was to find a hidden gem in these neglected and often less-lauded works.

I think I've hit something.

Without further ado, I give you Surfacing by Mark Magro, published 2015 by Jolly Fish Press. When it comes to unknown paperbacks, this one fit the bill; it seems to only have eight reviews on Goodreads (which I refuse to read until I'm done here), Surfacing is Magro's only book so far, and Jolly Fish Press doesn't exactly look like Penguin Random House, although it does have a nice website by my standards.

Here's my one-sentence synopsis of Surfacing: In a dystopian future, a teenage boy (Balt) and girl (Zoe) decide to escape an underground laboratory where they are test subjects, using an AI head named Smith to navigate an abandoned complex full of dangers and secrets. It was an interesting plot, and I don't say that just because this book and one of my manuscripts are close enough in setting to shake hands. I think it has merit to make a wave in the YA ocean...

...but let's start with the niggles.

Ultimately, my biggest issue was the way it was written, as in the prose and syntax. Having emerged from Contagion brushing filler words and adverbs off my clothing, it hurt a little bit to dive right back in. Surfacing has a tendency to rely too heavily on "suddenly", "slowly", "began", verb-adverb links (as in "said softly", "ran quickly", etc.), and other details that tripped me up. The book inspired me to do a word search through a couple of my manuscripts--where I ended up declaring a purge of the 100-ish "began"-s I found there. I might not have room to throw stones, but the fact that I deleted about 90 percent of those pesky words from my manuscripts and am bent on cold-blooded mayhem in the others should testify to how unnecessary that word can be.

Surfacing also has a tendency to, um, Coda itself--which is to say, it sometimes goes light on the descriptive side. It left me enough where my imagination could fill in the blanks, but I was never sure if I was doing so correctly. There's a chance that whatever is in my mind and whatever is in Magro's mind are worlds apart, and that unsettled me a little. Downplaying description also undermined some of the intended alarm; I know I was supposed to be surprised when a ginormous praying mantis burst onto the scene, but the way it was introduced felt...a little normal. No pace changes or paragraph breaks--just bam, mantis, and stuff happened. I wanted to get to know the mantis, and heaven knows I did so afterward, but first impressions count. Other things also get yadda-yadda-ed past as well, such as Zoe's involuntary past-seeing ability. She gives the mechanics of this expository talent only a passing, unchallenged thought before moving on.

However, I place Surfacing on a higher tier than Contagion, if only for one reason: multiple times, I caught myself thinking, "Just one more chapter."

What tension the story has is enough to keep you flipping pages. Most characters, even the less-explored ones, were interesting enough for the reader to make an investment in them. Balt and Zoe had enough emotion and personality to be intriguing, and while Smith the AI sounded a little un-AI-ish at times, I cared about him too. Balt starts as a Vulcan-like logic and science machine and Zoe starts as a loner against everything she's known, but they both have their arcs toward more rounded people. The arcs weren't today's popular "girl gets stronger" and "boy learns his lesson" cookie-cutter printouts; if anything, they both learned their lessons and gained their own strengths. Genuine balance there.

The bit that sold the book, though, was the fact that Magro put one past me. There are two major plot twists that drop in the book's final act (and, as another point in the book's favor, I like a discernable beginning-middle-end in my stories, and Surfacing had that). One plot twist, I must admit, pertains to Zoe, and it was pretty obvious; I called it the "Well, duh!" reveal. But then, hot on its heels came another, more comprehensive reveal of such grand scope that...well, I'm not revealing it here. When it was revealed, though, I had another "Well, duh!" moment--only this time it was directed at myself. Thinking back on the whole book, I really should have seen it coming. But I didn't. Kudos, Magro.

Looking back on my Contagion review, it might appear that I am a hypocritical hipster in favoring Surfacing, saying that I like both stories but think they need an adverb-and-filler-word cleansing. Here is my defense against such an accusation: Surfacing has legit interesting characters and moments of grand, overarching surprise, something that Contagion didn't manifest in my eyes. Plus, Surfacing is a debut work by a new author; some syntactical errors are forgivable, whereas Contagion's architect has no such excuse. That's why I'm not searching for Contagion's sequel, but if I get wind of a Surfacing: Part 2, I'll probably hunt it down.

Oh, but that's another thing Surfacing has over Contagion: its ending is less cliffhanger-y. It's a solid stand-alone; Contagion also stands, but it's sort of one-legged in its posture. That's why I conclude this review with a recommendation: if you're not a word-picky reader who wants a medium-sized read with a nice surprise and solid ending to reward your reading dedication, give a thought to Surfacing.

If you'll excuse me, I need to enter my works-in-progress to delete 3,400,848 cases of the word "suddenly".

A "Contagion" of Adverbs

I got enough time last month to read Contagion by Erin Bowman, so to kick off March, here's my review of the book. But let me get one thing straight before I get started here: I hate criticizing books. I'd rather praise a book to the skies than tear it a new one.

Now that I've said that, I can feel you all bracing for the start of my ranting. Well, de-brace yourselves. Contagion is actually a pretty OK book. I think I ruined it for myself.

Here's the one-sentence synopsis: a skeleton crew gets sent to investigate a distress signal on a desolate planet, uncovering a horrible force that threatens everyone--all throughout the universe. There are two main characters: Thea, a scientist's intern, and Nova, a young pilot. FYI, they're both girls; Nova also has lesbian tendencies, if that sweetens the pot for anyone. The reason I say that I ruined this book for myself is simple: I've watched the 1979 movie Alien and played the game
System Shock 2. It was hard to feel surprised when I've seen it all happen before, and Contagion didn't deviate a whole lot from the (minor spoiler alert) alien zombies in space sci-fi theme.

Even so, I have to say the book felt pretty well paced. Unlike a lot of stories I've observed lately, it has a solid beginning, middle, and climactic end. I contrast this plot arc with the movie Alita: Battle Angel; I saw it recently, and while I believe it is an excellent, kick@$$ movie that succeeds where Scarlett Johansson's Ghost in the Shell failed, I also have to admit I couldn't tell where the climax was supposed to be. The edge of one's seat is a terrible thing to waste, and I don't commit to the hallowed seat-edge until I know that everything I've seen has been leading up to this point and $#!* is about to go down.

Contagion does better in that regard. I can legitimately say I was compelled to keep turning pages when the discernable final act reared its head. However...

(Yep, the ripping-a-new-one is about to begin...)

...I wasn't turning pages because I was concerned about anyone.

Maybe I'm just a cold-hearted, envious sociopath, but I didn't click with anyone on the main or secondary character roster. The skeleton crew was composed of the two main characters, a secretive scientist, an a-hole military captain, and three guys. That's about all you can say about them. I felt no concern when (another minor spoiler alert) the three guys started dropping off the radar--even though there was one who had a family back on his planet of origin. I swear nobody cracked a good joke, even a nervous one. They had but the faintest of personality traits that never really shone. The military person--a woman, for what it's worth--was so much of a hardheaded a-hole that I couldn't give her credit when she displayed the occasional sign of character development.

The main characters? If it weren't for their backstories, their personalities were interchangeable--and they reeked of the stereotypical Strong Female Lead. Alita, in the movie that bears her name, at least has some childlike innocence and growth to back up the bad@$$ery. Thea and Nova just have a case of mild determination. People who are after a strong lesbian lead will want to look elsewhere, too; it seemed like Nova's sexual inclination was more thrown in there to uncork the drool taps in agents' and publishers' mouths. I've had this concern that the "Please please send us LGBTQ+ manuscripts" in publishers' wishlists has led to a lack of just scrutiny on their part, and Contagion hasn't really weakened that theory.

On that note, we come to the writing. To be honest, it's Stephen King's worst nightmare, if he has those. We're told as writers to avoid the adverb--especially in Stephen King's book On Writing--but in Contagion, they were...um...contagious. The subject-verb-adverb chain was all over the place ("...he ran quickly...", "...she said spontaneously...", "...it roared incoherently..."), and once, on page 188, I hit a double adverb: "...the ride was momentarily blessedly smooth." There were also a horde of writer sin words: "began", "started", "suddenly", "now", and so on. They were all over the place. I can remember another area where I remember such other horrors occurring:

My writing. Specifically, my writing when I was first learning to write fiction well.

I used those words all the time, and I expended a lot of energy over my years-of-my-manuscripts-not-being-published to smooth out those warps. I'm still coming across them as I edit for the umpteenth time (and believe me, I erased/replaced/reworded a bunch of them while doing some edits this morning). At least I have the "I'm a new-ish writer" excuse, but Bowman has no such defense. She'd had other books published before, and I'm not so sure I want to read another--even the eventual sequel to Contagion. Oh, and another spoiler alert: it ends on a sort-of cliffhanger.

Ultimately, I believe Contagion is a good story; I like both Alien and System Shock 2, after all. The things that trip it up the most are the nondescript characters and the fact that it reads like a manuscript that was edited once, maybe twice, before the publisher thrust it onto the shelves. I would read this book again if Bowman sat on it some more, reworked it, and dear heaven please removed those bales of adverbs and filter words.

It's the universe's only hope.

A Novel Idea

Happy couple-of-days-after-Valentine's-Day! Now that I've shared with you my wealth of knowledge concerning romance writing, I thought we could briefly cover a different, less romantic subject: editing.

See, I am now convinced that the best way to edit your book is to first write a completely different book.

I've heard this advice before, and like I am with all difficult-sounding writing things, I was skeptical at first. I already had a manuscript series I was working on, and doesn't that count as multiple books already? But then I got wrapped up in NaNoWriMo and ended up finishing a new and wholly original story, and I have since set it aside to ferment before I go back in for those second-draft edits. I just hope that manuscript ferments more like beer and less like mold, that's all I can say.

I can't stop writing while that's going on, though, and I don't count all the writing I have to do as a journalist*. Therefore, I decided to go back and edit the second book of a trilogy-ish thing I wrote. Second books are like the middle children of a book series; we know they're there, but I think we don't expect too much of them, and as long as they aren't causing any trouble, we leave them alone.

How are those edits going, you ask?

Let me put it this way: I think the book had about 69,000 words when I first re-opened it. Now it's pushing 74,000. When I had to write the completely original NaNoWriMo book, I needed to describe a whole new world from scratch, something I hadn't done in a while. Thanks to all the writing and critical reading I'd done since I became a writer, I had plenty of experience to make that happen.

Then I noticed my second-book-in-the-series needed a serious descriptive overhaul, amongst its many other edit-able details. I realize this inflating word count sort of flies in the face of Stephen King's "On Writing" book--he advises cutting back on words whenever possible--but I don't mind yet. I think of it as similar to building a snowman: if the snowman is too small, you need to pack more snow on it before making it more smooth and compact.

There you have it; that's why I recommend writing something completely different before editing a manuscript. If nothing else...well, you have my opinion on snowman-building.

Bye for now.


*Final side note: OK, I do count the editorials I write as legit ("fun") writing. That's right--my newspaper gave me my own editorial column. Maybe I'll tell you about it someday, but in the meantime, know that it keeps our readership VERY entertained.

Romance Writing Tips!

Happy February! In honor of the romantic holiday coming up in a couple weeks, I thought I'd share with all of you my tips for writing hot, steamy romance novels.

...

And there you are.

Have a great Valentine's Day, everyone.

Post-Manuscript FAQ

YAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY—

Oh hello. Sorry, I was just celebrating. After two-and-a-half months and a little over 91,000 words, the first draft of my latest YA/sci-fi manuscript is complete! The seed that started as a foray into NaNoWriMo has blossomed into a massive, slightly ugly flower that still has a few more inches to grow.

If it’s any help at all, here is an FAQ I’ve put together so you know my post-manuscript plans. I call them FAQs even though nobody has actually FA’d these Qs of me, really. Oh well. Maybe they can provide some guidance into your own post-mortem—*ahem*, I mean post-novel plans.

·       What’s the title?: I’m not telling you yet. Just know that it is a legit, kick-*** title that I had from Day 1; it was the first word I wrote on the document, and it has stayed unchanged since. I will tell you, though, that the title is NOT:

o   “Another Young Adult Science Fiction Book”

o   “Taserface”

o   “Reflections on Bronte’s ‘Wuthering Heights’”

o   “Reflections on How I Can’t Tell the Bronte Sisters Apart”

o   “Marshmallows”

·       What’s the genre?: Dude, I told you at the beginning of this post. It’s YA sci-fi.

·       Then why is it so long? I thought most YA books were shorter than 91,000 words.: BECAUSE THE STORY IDEA SEEMED SHORTER IN MY HEAD, OK??? I’ll try to cut back in revisions, but I make no guarantees.

·       What’s the plot and setting?: Sorry, I’m a little cagey about those things as well—at least at this stage.

·       Was it inspired by the Hunger Games?: NO. Now go sit in your corner and stop accusing me of such horrible things.

·       Was it inspired by Twilight?: NO! Go to the corner where I left the “Hunger Games” person, who is now free to leave now that you’ve spoken such blasphemy. Besides, that’s fantasy/romance/YA garbage! What gave you the idea I’d go for that?

·       Did you know the whole plot when you sat down to write it?: Yes. No. Sort of. I knew enough of the plot to know how to begin, and I knew how I wanted the story to end, but I’ll admit some stuff shuffled around and changed in the middle as I got writing. I like writing non-set stories; it gives me a little creative wiggle room—and helps me dodge any sticky plot points.

·       What computer did you use?: I wrote a lot of my manuscript during breaks at work, so…*sigh*…it was an Apple. Now I’m a die-hard Windows/Dell fan, but I write for a living anyway (journalist), and writing my manuscript over breaks helped me stay sharp.

·       What’s the last word in the manuscript?: You mean, aside from the word “END” that signals the termination of the story?

·       Duh!: “Gate.”

·       What was your regimen while writing it?: During NaNoWriMo, I wrote 2000 words a day—got me to 50,000 words about a week before November ended. After that, I toned it down to 1000 words a day. Hey, I write a LOT for a living. Yeah, yeah, if you do the math, I missed or under-wrote for a few days after November. I have excuses for those days, a lot of them I can’t remember (aside from the one where I got engaged that day).

·       What are your plans now?: I’m going to hide my manuscript draft under a pillow and not think about it for a month or so. Maybe between now and then, I’ll edit another of my manuscripts or write a short story or something. Heaven knows it’s been a while since I’ve written a short story. (Really, 91,000 words! I’ve never written a story that long before! What happened?) Maybe I’ll just play some Halo. Maybe I’ll do all of the above. After that, then I’ll go through it with my fine-toothed comb that’s missing a few teeth.

·       What are you most looking forward to in your revisions?: I hope I wrote a lot of cool stuff in there that I can find again. I love the (rare) feeling of coming across something you wrote that gave you the creepy fuzzies—which you forgot, so you get to have that feeling all over again. I also haven’t divided the book into chapters yet, so that’ll be fun.

·       What are you least looking forward to in your revisions?: Finding the MANY, MANY ERRORS that necessarily lurk within the pages. I’ve found so many by just glancing back at previous chapters, especially within the first 50,000 words from NaNoWriMo when I was writing at full speed…then there are the creative (a.k.a. “made-up”) words that I know have switched-around letters or changed spellings halfway through…hoo boy, I’ll be trying not to think about those for the next month-ish.

·       What are your feelings about the manuscript and story overall?: AAH HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! YAAA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!...

·       Sorry I asked. That’s not a question. Go to the corner.