For instance, a WIP, is the work in progress, or the book you are currently in the midst of writing, or pretending to be writing when you're really playing online boggle.
And revising is the dreaded word for making changes and corrections to your manuscript. It can be even harder than actually writing the blessed thing to begin with, for goodness sake, but it's what we call a necessary evil. Like the multiplication table or having your teeth cleaned. You just can't escape it.
The bad news, is that I've been neck deep in revisions for weeks now. The good news though, is that I'm nearing the end - the light is at the end of the tunnel!
What this all means is that book 2, BLAZE, will soon be finished.
Are you excited yet?
Yes, the color of the notebook seems to be very important. I write with a fine tipped sharpie - always. In the messiest handwriting you've ever seen. And I highlight the notes I've used in bright yellow.
And slowly, slowly, with much scribbling and typing and highlighting, my disorderly WIP becomes a novel.
For you.
And then I read the last line over and over and cry a little. Do you ever do that? Cry just a little when you do something you're so incredibly proud of?
Maybe you have to get old before you start doing that...
Anyway, in celebration of my almost-completed-novel, I'm throwing a few teasers your way. Enjoy these little tidbits and snippets - more technical terms - because the actual book is coming and you've really got to prepare yourselves.
From the upcoming BLAZE, Kindled Book 2:
*
“Alright, we’re here,” Asher whimpered. “Now can we please go back
to sleep? You know I’m liable to be cranky if I don’t get my eight hours.”
“You’d be cranky even if you had ten,” Eden snapped groggily.
“That’s a lie. I’m a ray of sunshine most of the time, especially
compared to you, the Princess of Doom.”
“Oh, shut up. You’re both the biggest grouches I ever saw,” Nathan moaned.
“You could hardly call Asher the biggest anything,” Eden smirked and
Asher puffed himself up indignantly. During this exchange, Grayson exhaled imperiously
with the air of one whose patience is often challenged.
“Is there any particular reason why we’re standing out in the
hallway?” Nathan finally asked.
“We haven’t been invited in yet,” Grayson replied, cryptically.
“Invited by whom?”
“The Beacons.”
“Do you mean the Beacons are in our room?” Asher squeaked. “Sitting
in our ratty lawnchairs and bruising their shins on our giant lame coffee
table?”
“Yes.”
*
“Courage,” Nathan
whispered to himself as he dressed in his amber tunic, now so pale he could
hardly see the color in the dim light of his chamber. He whispered it again as
the army gathered on the flight deck and as they took off into the gloom of the
dusky morning. He whispered it as they approached Temple Hills, Grayson in the
lead, carrying a long golden pole with a gleaming silk flag attached which cracked in the wind and drew the army behind.