Fish Out of Water

Today I have an excerpt for you! It's from a piece I began--that may or may not go anywhere--in which I was attempting to re-imagine faeries. It sort of warped into a Fish Out of Water, Man Out of Time story as I went along, and I'm not at all sure where it's going now. But here's the beginning. I hope you enjoy it.

Itoro stood on the hill, long, dry grasses waving about his knees with the gentle breeze. His clothes were worn and patched, both leather and cloth. An unkempt beard graced his square chin, hiding the grim set of his jaw. His eyes, a soft but determined gray set deep above a long, crooked nose, surveyed the valley below him, lingering on the small collection of brightly-colored tents huddled against the base of the mountains. 

The thin chestnut horse beside him snorted softly and nudged his shoulder with her dirt-encrusted nose. 

He nodded gently as if she had spoken aloud, and gently took hold of the tattered leather reins. Finally turning his eyes down to the uneven ground beneath his feet, he carefully began to pick his way into the valley. A strange sense of foreboding knotted his stomach as he walked, though he did his best to brush it away. 

The mare limped beside him, doing her utmost to put as little pressure on her rear left leg as possible. The blood had finally crusted around her wound, leaving her haunch stained with a deep, rust-colored streak. But, like her companion, she kept her big, brown eyes fixed on the tents on the other side of the valley, only occasionally tossing her head in complaint. 

By the time they stood on the valley floor, the tents had disappeared from view, leaving the two weary travelers alone in a sea of dancing brown grass, the mountain peaks before them their only guidance. Very slowly, the strains of music appeared in the distance, beckoning and welcoming the weather-beaten strangers. Drums and rattles grew louder, more distinct, with every step. Eventually, voices joined the energetic mash of rhythm and deep, breathy flutes, chanting and singing in a light, lyrical language. 

He found himself humming along, though he could not remember the words. It had been far too long since he had come across a Faeling clan. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would recognize any of them. Or if any of them would recognize him. 

Oh, man, I have been on a "so much information I don't know what to do with it all; help me, I'm dying!" brainwave for the last few weeks. Hence my rather abysmal posting record recently. It's been a combination of a lot of things, really: new job, lack of motivation, reinventing some sort of social life. Been an interesting time to say the least. Hopefully, in the next couple of weeks, I'll get my feet under me again and really start cranking out some writing. Or at least finish that revision I've been working on for a year now.

I really ought to have more to say here today. But I don't at the moment. Perhaps I'll post again later; perhaps not. I guess we'll see if inspiration strikes.

Oljiru kovy.

Oops and Pseudonyms

Two weeks without a proper Saturday post. I'm so sorry! *Falls to the floor and begs forgiveness.* Last week I was out of town (buying my grandfather's car and driving home from Ohio), and yesterday...well, yesterday, I just plain forgot. But I'm here now--a day late--and that's what matters. Right?

Whether or not you forgive me, this week I want to talk about pseudonyms and pen names. I've been writing under Emer d'Ange for several years now, but I've recently realized something: it's hard to remember. And hard to remember (and spell, I'm sure) is not a good thing where pseudonyms are concerned. If you're going to write under a false name, make sure it's one that people can pronounce. So, thanks to some shallow soul-searching and advice from a few professors a couple months ago, I have decided to change my fake name. As of right now, I will write under the name Emerson Singer. Simpler, cleaner, no random apostrophes from French that no one will understand, and pretty gender neutral. Now to go change all my professional emails and usernames on various writing forums. To the internet!

But before I go, a little snippet to make up for being MIA for two weeks. Random little comedic moment from chapter eight of Savior. I hope you enjoy it!

Trick jolted awake to the feeling of lips on his cheek. He surged upright and smashed his head against Suoh’s, eliciting yelps of pain from both of them. 

Raja laughed raucously as the two men fell away from each other, cursing in different languages. 

“What the hell did you do that for?” Trick bellowed, pressing the heel of his palm to his pounding temple. 

“She told me to,” Suoh whimpered in reply, his head in his hands. “Gods, you’ve got a hard head.” 

“Gaviru! You’re the one with a hard head!” Trick cursed again as he forced himself to sit up, glad that the room wasn’t spinning. His fiery gaze flicked back and forth between the poltergeist beside him and the pixie a few feet away. “And don’t do every damned thing she tells you, Hatichiin! Just because she’s an Agent doesn’t mean you have to listen to her.” 

Raja smirked. “Actually, it does. Since he’s still our prisoner and all.” 

“Was there a reason you needed me awake?” The elf snarled instead of replying. 

“Besides providing me with entertainment?” She snickered and dodged Trick’s blow aimed at her face.

Let us begin with the unfortunate and not-writing news: I did not make Evita. Nerves and lack of practice with an accompanist got the better of me.

The good news is that not getting in the show means I don't have to try to juggle final rehearsals and the RMFW conference in a few months. And, honestly, I think writing is more important to me right now. Especially this monster book I've been working on for six years now. If it means I have to put my other passions on the back burner for a while, so be it.

I'm three quarters of the way through this rewrite, which will hopefully be the last major revisions I need to do on the manuscript. Crossing my fingers for that one!

Word Vomit

Last post today, sorry! I was out all day, running around various parks and meeting new people. But that's not important right now.

What is important is that I've jumped (once again) back on the rewriting horse. I'm about a quarter of the way from finishing this rewrite of Savior, which means I'll be restarting that query brain soon. Hopefully, within the next couple of weeks. I've also officially signed up for the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writer's conference in a few months, and I'm thrilled. I took the dive this year and signed up to participate in a critique session with an agent. If nothing else, it'll give me more exposure to how agents look at things, which is always good.

And, on the not-writing-but-still-artsy side, I'm auditioning for a local production of Evita on Monday. Excited and nervous at the same time, since it's my first time auditioning for a theatre I've always wanted to act in. With me luck!

Oljiru kovy.

The Real World

This week has been another slow writing week. This working in the real world and trying to carve out a niche for myself in the company has been rather a blow to my motivation. Which, of course, is hard to accept, since I'm so dang close to finishing the rewrite so I can start querying again. I want to go back to school and be able to justify sitting at home all day and working. And I've only been out of school for a little over a month now.

The good news? I have yet another project idea. This one playing with a faery tale. I know the faery tale retelling idea has been done over and over again, but that's not going to stop me from writing this, for fun if nothing else. I'm planning on tying it in with the history and myth of my world, which should hopefully make it a bit more unique than just another faery tale retold. Let's all keep our fingers cross for that one, shall we?

Oljiru kovy.

To Re or Not to Re?

Forgive the terrible, terrible pun in the title of this post. But I am of the firm belief (as of now) that every blog ought to have at least one post with a title parodying some great Shakespearean line. All the better if it's Hamlet. In all honesty, I should have written "To Resubmit or not to Resubmit?" But it just doesn't have the same ring to it.

As you may or may not have guessed at this point, I'm considering resubmitting to an agency that rejected Savior several months ago. Over the course of those months, I have rewritten the query letter thrice and reworked the majority of the manuscript itself. Plus, on the agent's blog, she mentioned a little while ago that they're looking for more manuscripts with strong, gay characters. And, to top it off, one of the two agents at the agency will be at the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writer's conference in September accepting pitches.

So what's the problem? I'm not sure if this specific agency accepts resubmissions, or if it's been long enough between queries to try again. I've been agonizing over this for weeks now, and have yet to come to a conclusion. Of course, I still have a few things to tweak in the manuscript before I start sending it out again at all (and all these ideas for new stories I'm getting are not helping), but I'm one of those people who likes to know what all my steps are for a bit before I get there, most of the time.

Has anyone else reading this considered resubmitting to an agent/editor? Did you do it?