Libby Drew

LOL You guys rock. I'm at 19,897. But I'm conosling myself with the knowledge that those are ~20,000 usable, edited words. I know you're not supposed to edit as you go for NaNo, but I'm totally hopeless at that.

What a wonderful week, news-wise. Congratulations, Rilbur!

Congratulations, Nephy. This is very well-deserved.

Wait, what? I did? You did? Awesome! And no, the privilege was all mine. Truly. Congratulations back atcha, and to everyone who was involved. Now I have to go find where you saw the results. EDIT: Found em!

That's very sweet of you to say. Honestly, though, this site is full of talent and inspiration, and I'm just happy to be a part of it. (And I really had every intention of replying sooner, but the flu hit and took down the kids in one swoop. I fee like I'm surfacing from a fugue state. :wacko: ) Thanks again for sharing.

Thanks, Bandage! You're going to spoil me. So glad you liked the story. I ended up having a real soft spot for Keev, when I didn't really expect to. And I never really developed the affection for Graviel that I thought I would. LOL Just goes to show the story goes the direction it wants, no matter how much planning/plotting goes on. Thanks again for the feedback.

Sorry for the late reply, Neph. For the record, I totally missed the stairs thing. Paya's got a keen eye for detail, that's for sure. I enjoyed this story very much, particularly how it opened. I read recently that a story should begin as close to the climax as possible, and I think this was the perfect example of why that rule exists. There was immediate tension and I was drawn in right away, asking what happened? and why? Great beginning! Mystery is my favorite genre, and even though I figured things out pretty early on, that didn't decrease the pleasure of the read. Mostly because I got to travel along with Noah and the rest as the truth came to light. Great work! Thanks for taking the time to craft and share this story.

Happy Birthday, Sharon! Hope you have a fantastic day.

Thanks for letting me know you liked it. It was a pleasure to participate. I enjoy giving back to the community when I can, especially one as wonderful as this. Yes, you already did, thank you. I truly appreciate the support.

Lord, I was given an automated slap on the wrist for trying to make another post too fast. That's never happened before. Which should be telling me something, maybe? ;-p Anyway... Thank you, Paya! It's refreshing to know that you and I are still on the same page with the feedback issue. I hope nobody here ever feels the need to sugarcoat what they want to say to me, or worse, hold back an opinion because they're worried I might take it the wrong way. Constructive feedback is always welcome, and I appreciate the time you took to provide it. Thank you. These are all excellent points, and I will be sure to take them to heart. As for Petrova, any feminization of the name was unintended. Ignorance only. The name was suggested by an English friend of mine, and I liked the sound of it. Perhaps in the future, a bit more research would go a long way? Gah! I waffled on those flashbacks. Personally, I'm not a fan of flashbacks, especially in the first chapter, so criticism duly noted. It's a device that needs to be used sparingly and in the right context. And, as you've deduced by now, sex is (hardly ever) a defining element in what I write. I'm not an erotica writer. I never will be. My personal preference will always be to err on the side of less physical intimacy, rather than insert it indiscriminately. Again, it's a personal preference. If we let it, this conversation would take us full circle to the 'sex in stories' thread that pops up now and again in the forums. 'When' and 'if' and 'how much' is a hotly debated topic. I appreciate your observation, however, about the wasted potential for the scene that was included, and I agree. Thanks for sharing your comments. I'm thrilled you kept them to share, and I hope I see others. Oh, and yes, isn't the picture lovely? The artist is very talented.

Thanks very much, Neph! I read all the entries too, and was amazed at how each touched on such different subjects and emotions. The contest was a real treat, showcasing the depth and complexity of life in vastly different ways. I'm glad you liked the characters, especially Aleck. Some characters are just plain hard to write, but not these. I had a great time with them. Thanks again for the feedback! Thanks, darling! It was a pleasure to entertain you. Thanks, Cia. Yeah, I think the fact that this was posted all at once helped. I was glad for that. I don't think it lent itself to being serialized. I'm so glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for the feedback.

Yes, I think so. Not by much. But then again, who knows? I anticipated chapter 8 to go no longer than 5K words, and it surprised me. I'll just have to see how long it takes Marc to do what I need him to do.

I'm excited to finally be able to talk about this! Mostly because there are several individuals I need to shower with praise, and up until now, have been unable to do so. The list of people who advised me on this project is long, and I thank them all. Most notably, I must mention Mechante, Betsy, and Sesheta, who gave selflessly of their time and talents and turned an idea and a jumble of words into an actual story. Special thanks to my husband for his support and feedback. My sincere thanks to the GA site owners, mods, and support team for the opportunity to participate. I had a ton of fun writing this, even if, at times, it gave me a few gray hairs. I also finally get to showcase some fabulous cover art by B Lambert that I was given weeks ago, but that I've been keeping under wraps. I'm sure each reader has their own vision of Grier and Aleck, but she really nailed these two for me. Link: State of Mind Summary: In a world where some people are born Gifted, able to use their minds to influence people and control objects, agent Aleck Devlin's mission is simple: find rogue agent Grier Crist and report his whereabouts to the Organization. But Aleck soon learns that the principles he's built his life on are lies, and his friends want him dead. Now he and Grier are on the run, desperate to unravel the Organization's true intentions before any more innocents are killed. Their success hinges on some unlikely allies and a mutual attraction neither can resist. Word Count: 60,238 in fifteen chapters If anyone would like to discuss State of Mind, I'm always eager for suggestions and feedback. Thanks again, and I hope you guys liked it.

Wow. I read it twice. I never read anything twice. This feels like art; you have a gentle, discerning hand with words and scene. Bravo. (Thanks for the rec, David! )

I thought it looked incomplete.

The Fiction Writer's Character Chart This is definitely the most detailed character profile template I've come across. I do use a 'resume' for my characters, especially for longer stories, but sometimes the fun of storytelling is watching how they react to certain situations in ways we (the writers) may not have anticipated. More than once, they've gone in directions and done things that surprised me. I can't help wondering if having too much information about a character might stifle the flow of a story. Thoughts? Does anybody else make character profiles?

Happy Birthday! I hope it was a great one.

Great article! Thanks for sharing it. It just goes to show you that everyone has their unique routines.

Do we get to know how you're doing? I'm 8,528 words as of this afternoon, which my word meter tells me is 17% of the 50,000 goal. I feel very accomplished, because I'm a super slow writer as a general rule. I'd love to be as prolific as some others, but it's just not in the cards for me. So I'm quite happy with this number. Rather than jump into one of the new novel-length ideas I had, I decided to focus on several shorter things that I've been wanting to finish. So that word counts includes two short stores and the next chapter of Truth in Advertising. Done! I love NaNo. I hope I can keep the momentum going.

Recently, I took requests on my blog for 'cutscenes' or 'outtakes' from any of my stories. Behold the fruits of my labor! What follows is a short scene that takes place in the Truth in Advertising universe. As it doesn't fit into the existing timeline (this takes place about a year before that story opens), I didn't want to add it to the chapter list. It's short, so I'm posting it here. I hope you enjoy it. *** He'd turned twenty-one last year. If he couldn't walk into a place like this feeling like he belonged, his business would go under before the ink was dry on his loan. The hotel's bar was compact, but elegant, and best of all, quiet. It wasn't that the bustle of the city intimidated him; he just didn't like the cramped feel of everything. His hotel room was decked out like a palace, but wasn't even six paces across. One more night, and he'd be free. The Renaissance may be impressive, but they could keep their free hot breakfast and wireless internet. First thing in the morning, he was going home. Marc glanced at his watch. Karen was late. His first impression of her had been one of competence and organization; he hadn't expected to be kept waiting. Printed on crisp, ivory stock and secure in his coat pocket, her offer letter crinkled whenever he moved. He hoped she accepted it, even though he had little to entice her. The team could use her expertise. The waitress stopped by his table, eyebrow quirked at his empty glass. He asked for more water, and when she turned to fetch it, Marc saw him. Just another white-collar slave celebrating one more day of survival in the corporate jungle. He sat at the bar, shoulders slumped, large hands curled around his beer. A day's growth of beard and tired eyes didn't diminish his appeal. The cocktail waitress giggled like a schoolgirl when she delivered his appetizer, and he flashed her a patient smile. But what caught Marc's attention was the man's tie. He'd thrown it over his shoulder while he worked his way through a plate of chicken wings. Marc squinted to be sure, but there was no doubt. Blue with a gray border, the tie sported tiny dancing hammers and screwdrivers. Marc grinned. The bartender stopped back to collect the empty plate. The man wiped his face and hands, accepted a fresh beer, and soon the tie was back where it belonged, knot pulled loose. But now that Marc had noticed the guy, he couldn't stop noticing. Broad-shoulders tapered to a trim waist, and his every move cinched the starched cotton shirt tight across his back. Unable to stop himself, Marc's eyes dropped below the brown, braided belt to the man's ass. The guy shifted, rolling back and forth on the bar stool, before settling down again. Mortified, Marc ripped his gaze away. He grabbed for his glass of water and kept his eyes glued to the door, reminding himself that greeting a potential employee with a hard-on might just be construed as sexual harassment. His resolve lasted less than a minute. When he next glanced back, the guy had shifted position again. One hand was still curled around his glass, but the other rested in his lap. Transfixed, Marc watched him sweep his thumb back and forth over the front of his slacks. It could've been nothing, the bulge. A fold in the fabric, he told himself, even as his heart thumped in his chest. The man swung his stool toward Marc and crossed his legs. Marc's gaze darted to his face. Relieved to find the man mesmerized by the television mounted above the bar, he renewed his resolution to keep his attention focused somewhere else. Anywhere else. With his cocktail napkin, he dabbed a layer of perspiration from his upper lip and watched the door. If only putting the brakes on his imagination were so easy. This time, he lasted three minutes. He found the man exactly as before, one arm slung over the back of the barstool, the other in his lap. The agitation that had been building due to Karen's tardiness rolled into a tight knot of lust and simmered low in Marc's stomach. He clutched his water, hypnotized by the stroking motion of the man's thumb. His own pants had grown tight. The thumb paused, made two tight circles, then went still. Marc's lips parted in disappointment. Then the index finger lifted and made a very obvious, unmistakable gesture. Come here. Marc's stomach flipped. Cheeks burning, he lifted his eyes. The man winked. With his foot, he hooked the stool next to him and dragged it a few inches closer. Come here, he mouthed, motioning Marc over, and even though his smile was friendly, and the offer tantalizing, Marc shook his head. The man pursed his lips. Why not? his expression asked. Why not? Marc's body agreed. The man's face grew puzzled, a bit sad, and he shrugged. But as he turned away, Marc moved. Pulse pounding in his ears, he pushed his water glass away and scooted to the edge of the booth. He pinned his gaze on the man's surprised grin and nothing else. Standing was almost a disaster. His legs didn't want to hold his weight. Come on, the guy gestured again. "Let me buy you a drink," he added, deep voice carrying across the empty tables, doing nothing for the burn in Marc's groin. A breath of perfume-tinged air brushed his face, and Karen breezed into the room. Her hair was loose and disheveled, and there was a long run in the left leg of her nylons. Marc took two steps backward and collapsed into the booth, heart pounding. "Oh my God, Marc, I am so sorry," Karen said as she approached the table. Marc climbed unsteadily to his feet to greet her, frowning at her slight limp. "My cab was in an accident, and even though I told the cop I didn't see what happened, the ass made me stay and give a statement." Marc took her arm and guided her into a seat. "It's all right." "No, it's not. Oh Christ, look at you. You're beet red, you're so angry. I blew it, didn't I?" "Karen." Marc relied on one deep breath to clear his head. "I'm not angry. I'm glad you're okay, and I don't care that you're late." He covered the half-truth with a watery smile. "In fact," he withdrew the letter from his pocket, "I invited you here tonight to make you an offer." "I accept!" Karen threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you." He returned the awkward across-the-table hug. "You're welcome." He held out the letter. "Don't you want the details?" "Yes." The letter disappeared into her purse. "Later. Listen." She ran her hands through her hair, leaving it sticking out in all directions. Marc held his tongue. They'd met twice, enough times for him to know she'd be mortified if he called attention to it. She grasped his hands in hers. "If we're going to work together, you really need to get yourself a cell phone." Marc grimaced. Reba had been badgering him for the same thing. "Seriously. I've been in a full-scale panic for the last half hour, thinking you'd be long gone by the time I showed up." "It's fine," he assured her again. She sat back, glancing around. "I'd kill for a drink. Classy, I know, but I'm still kind of rattled." "I'll get it." Marc stood. "What would you like?" he asked as he buttoned his sport coat. "Am I breaching some unspoken rule of etiquette if I ask for a bourbon?" At ease for the first time in half an hour, Marc chuckled. "No. Sounds like you deserve one. Rocks?" "No, neat. You're a prince, Marc." He left her massaging her temple and fretting over a grease stain on her skirt. It was only a handful of steps to the bar, but Marc managed to avoid looking until he'd caught the bartender's attention and asked for Karen's bourbon. As the amber liquid splashed into the glass, Marc glanced to his left. The man was gone. "Good," Marc whispered, feeling something so opposite he scooped up Karen's drink and downed it in one long gulp. "Uh," the bartender lifted the bottle, "another?" Marc nodded. "Fresh glass, please." "Sure thing." He served the second drink with a folded cocktail napkin. "That guy left this for you." Marc's arm jerked, splashing bourbon over his hand. "Oh. Thanks." He pushed a twenty across the bar. "Keep the change." The napkin he slipped into his pocket. "I think I might love you," Karen said when he returned. She cradled the glass in her palms like it held Holy water. "Thanks." "Sure." The weight of the napkin in his pocket was a physical drag. Gratefully, he sank into his seat. "Thanks for your enthusiasm about the position. May I ask

Thanks, Mike! Glad you liked the chapter. Give Finn a chance. There's more to him than meets the eye. Chapter 8 soon, if I have any say in it. Take care!

Thank you all very much! I agree. It wasn't intentional, and will be remedied soon. Thanks! I hope the next chapter meets your expectations. *whistles innocently* ;-p Chapter 8 is half done already. I hope to have it posted soon. And I'm NOT a cliffhanger writer. I have no idea where that ending came from. Thanks again, paya!

First of all, MAJOR MAJOR apologies to Aikirangel and Duncan. I could've sworn I set up notifications for this post, but must have screwed something up, because I just noticed both you fine gentlemen replied weeks ago, and I was never the wiser. I'm so sorry. Finishing this one is part of my Nanowrimo goal, and I'm very excited to start piecing together the last two parts, which are rough outlines at the moment. Thanks for the feedback, both here and on LJ. It's always a pleasure to hear from you. ps - look for more sam/tim very soon. Thanks, Duncan. Sorry again for the late reply. Now if I can only keep to my goal of 15K for this story, I'll be happy. I always envisioned it delivering a quick punch. I tried to structure it that way, in any case. We'll see... Thanks again!