Sherri Cornelius

The feedback I received on the long synopsis may be the best ever. Many of the reader’s comments overlapped, giving me specific areas to focus on, and I have every intention of emailing this tomorrow, just like I’d planned. So raise your glass, or mug, or whatever, and join me in toasting Sarah, Matthew, Vanessa, Dane, Ian and Tony for a job well done. Kristy had offered to help, but life got in the way (this is me officially letting her off the hook). She still gets the brownie points, because it means a lot that she was interested in the first place. So to all my critters, thank you so much! If this thing lands me a deal, you will have had a direct hand in getting me there.

On a technical note, did you know you can register on my website? I didn’t either, until I did some snooping around my WordPress dashboard. If you have an avatar which shows up on every other site but this one, registering as a user might fix it. I’m not sure how it works, so if anybody tries it out, could you tell me about your experience? The link is in the upper right-hand corner of the header.

Looks like it’ll be a rainy day here in Blossomland. Just before the kids got on the bus a black wall cloud rolled over us, and now it’s raining pretty hard. Doesn’t look like it’ll be severe, just dark, warm, windy and wet. My favorite kind of day. It will make it extra hard to concentrate, though, especially since I stayed up too late last night talking to my brother on the phone.

A couple more readers got back to me with notes on my synopsis, so that makes four, which is a good number to start my rewrite. The response has been mostly positive, but there are a few places that all four readers pegged, so that’s where I’ll start. I love how each reader brings his/her own personality to the critique–like, the mysterious M., language dude extraordinaire, told me the meanings of some of the names I’d chosen for my characters, and the meanings sort of fit the characters’ roles. To answer his question, the fit of the names is accidental–except for the name of the main character, Drina, which in Spanish is short for Alexandrina and means “defender of mankind,” I assume because of Alexander the Great. “Defender of Mankind” is a good title for Drina Ramirez.

I was right, it’s hard to concentrate. I think I’ll have to take my work in small sips today, and that work is: to continue where I left off editing yesterday; start rewriting the synopsis; housework; pay bills; other miscellaneous things I can fit in here and there. I have a feeling the housework will be the easiest of those tasks; I don’t have to think to load the dishwasher.

So here’s a question for you: Do you do anything special to pick names for your characters? Do the names come immediately, or do you have to study and research and pick just the right one?

My mind is sort of a blank this morning, but I feel like connecting with the world so I’m posting anyway. I apologize in advance for any inanity which may follow.

Over the weekend a couple of my first readers got back to me with comments on my long synopsis. Their advice was right on and exactly what I needed, pointing out things I am too close to see. Really invaluable. I’m sure the rest of my readers will have just as much insight. I’ll do an in-depth report once it’s a done deal, probably by the end of the week.

While I’m waiting to finish my synopsis, I have my editing job to do. Last week I received my next two assignments from Eternal Press. To my surprise, they are both classified as erotica. Now, I’ve never edited erotica before, although I did go through a time when I thought I might be able to write some. (Not.) By the way, the link goes to my old blog because the comments somehow didn’t get imported over here on my older posts. The comments are funny.

So anyway, yeah, I’m editing erotica. So far it’s been very–ahem–interesting. It’s smashing my preconceived notions of erotic literature and bringing to light some personal attitudes which have always operated unseen. Eye-opening, in a number of ways.

On the health front, I found out toothpaste irritates my skin and is probably why my tongue always feels burny. On the other hand, the knuckle on my broken finger popped and I regained some range of motion. I hope this bodes well for having a full recovery.

I pulled all my WIP files to one location and started organizing them. Cuts, backstory, notes, different chunks of chapters, the working doc, 3 different synopses, etc. I’m a very sloppy saver, so my file names are not nearly descriptive enough to immediately know what they are, and also they are saved to two different computers and a backup hard drive. I have the same file name 10 times on 4 different documents. It’s atrocious. If anybody has any thoughts on a better way to organize and evaluate what to save and what to delete, please let me know. If nobody has a better idea, I’ll import all the files into Page Four, see how that works.

Have a great week.

The 1st day of school was a success, as I thought it would. Little Bubba joked as we got ready for school, “You should have a welcome home party for us.” I laughed along with him, and he forgot about it. So that afternoon I went to the dollar store and got some balloons, party favors, and candy bars. I stuck a bow to my shirt, held a squawker in one hand and a balloon in the other, and went out to wait for the bus. Of course the bus was late so I’d have to stand out there as the maximum number of people drove by. I like to think they knew what I was doing. And the look on Little Bubba’s face when the bus pulled up was way worth it. ‘Course, later in the evening I was sure wishing I hadn’t given them the squawkers…or the balloons…or the candy…

The writing also went well. I finished my long synopsis–final page count: 15 pages. The plot is basically the same, but I did change some key elements that had given me doubts. I think finishing this project is a pretty good way to start my full-time writing career. (Is it a career if you haven’t made any money yet?) It’s a good sign. I can officially say that I’m out of the hole which had swallowed me up for so long. The writing feels good; having a real, reachable goal feels good; and going easy on myself feels good. I’m loose. But not in a slutty way. Anymore. As far as you know.

Anyhoo, now’s the time when I call upon my peeps to read what I wrote and tell me what I got wrong. I know I have at least two readers on board already, so if y’all are too busy, I do have some help. Seriously, it’s all right. Lord knows I’ve been too busy/downtrodden to read at times. Still, the more the merrier, so if you have a passing curiosity and time to read 15 pages double spaced, shoot me an email and I’ll put you on the list.

eek!

Had a couple of breakthroughs over the weekend.

One is measurable: I’ve jumped the last hurdle with the 15 page synopsis I’ve been working on for five weeks. Does that sound like a long time to be working on 15 pages? Well, it’s not as straightforward as that. I’d already written a short synopsis for my agent Sara to send around with the sample pages. The ending had been sketched out for the regular 3-page synopsis, and I planned to fill in the blanks as I worked on the book. I knew the basic structure would stay the same, so it was a safe gamble.

Suddenly I had to fill in those blanks– blanks that I had not only neglected, but avoided like the plague. And to tell you the truth, I needed those blanks to be filled in to continue working on the book. Thank God for this exercise which forced me to finally make those decisions. I feel free.

The other breakthrough is immeasurable: I learned something about how I work as a writer. I want to be an utterly confident and steady producer, the kind of person who works best during Nanowrimo, but apparently that’s not how I work. My usual MO is to write until I come to a problem I can’t immediately figure out. I’ll keep figuring until I’m in a corner, there’s no answer. I’m done, I can’t do anymore, I suck. Finally, I’m so upset I throw it down and stop thinking about it. When I get back to it, I’m more relaxed and the answer just…comes to me.

This has been happening my whole writing career, but I never thought to work with it. Pretty dumb, huh? I guess I just work better in fits and starts. So this last problem I had, I allowed myself a lot of breathing room, and it worked. I knew what I wanted to happen in the ending, but I had never figured out the motivation. Yesterday this huge question of motivation was solved, with a tool I’d already written into the story.

Here’s an interesting post by Rachelle Gardner ( in which she says,

I work with a lot of first-time authors, because that’s part of what I love to do. But something I’m learning is that we may be doing you a disservice if we contract you when you’ve only written one book. Yes, writing that book was a huge accomplishment. And if your very first book garnered positive attention from editors and/or agents, that’s even more of an accomplishment. It’s terrific!

But it’s not enough. The hard truth is that it takes a lot more than one book to really know “how to be a writer.” So if you get contracted after that one book, over which you slaved for years, and then you’re under the gun to produce another book on a deadline, what’s going to happen? You are going to have a very, very difficult time.

When I read this several days ago, I tweeted the link immediately because it hit me so hard. I think that’s what’s been going on with me. I’ve been writing for a long time, but always on my own time. I didn’t know a person had to figure out “how to be a writer.” Although I don’t have a deadline, per se, people are ready to leap into action when this book is finished. The self-imposed pressure was surprisingly crippling. I’ve had people get very upset with me because of this. “You have an agent, you ingrate. If I had an agent, I’d be set.” Well, sorry to burst the pre-agent bubble, but having an agent isn’t rainbows and roses. It’s a business. It’s work. It doesn’t solve all your problems and, as in my case, can magnify some.

My expectations are about 50 times higher for myself than they are for you. I build boxes around myself and then stay there, so for me the key is to relax and allow other possibilities into my consciousness. There’s so much advice we hear all the time: to write every single day, no matter what; to write our way through rough patches in our stories; to set goals and stick with them. For someone like me, with a corncob up her butt already, this advice is to be avoided at all cost. I wish there were more advice to relax. Please pass this advice along.

So, yeah, I’m pretty excited now that I finally figured out how to be a writer in my own way. Have you figured it out yet? How has it opened up your writing?

I love warm spring mornings, waiting for the bus with the two oldest children, soaking up nature’s joy in the rising sun. Today the kids almost missed the bus because of the distractions awaiting in our front yard. They lamented the violets losing their blossoms and reveled in the luxurious blooms of roses. They shed their jackets (thrust upon them by an overprotective mother) and skipped through the grass. Then a bird landed in the mulberry tree a few feet away and ate some breakfast, which, of course, the children then had to do. “Let’s go eat the mulberries before the bird gets them all!” they cried.

They picked a few before the bus came, and then had to rush to make it to the street in time. “Have a wonderful day,” I called as I do every morning. They chorused, “We will!” They sat in the front seat of the bus with their heads together and forgot to wave at me out the window, as they do more and more. That’s all right.

Oklahoma is a great place to live. Really fantastically awesome. It has it’s challenges, as every state does, but I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

A.C. Crispin of Writer Beware liked it when she came to the OWFI conference a couple of weeks ago. In the linked post she compares the Nebula Awards banquet with ours, the professional writer and the amateur. She talks about the enthusiasm and joy of writers who attended the conference, and through our example realized that once you’re a pro it’s easy to forget to enjoy writing.

I’m enjoying it, that’s for sure. I finished my longer synopsis, which ended up being 2 1/2 pages. I know this is weird, given the general feeling floating around cyberspace about them, but I love writing synopses. It is a unique challenge, word-for-word taking about quadruple the time it takes to write the book itself, but when all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, it is immensely satisfying.

So now the synopsis is finished, and while I wait for proofreaders to get back to me (anybody else who wants to volunteer, I’ll love you forever) I’ll insert the changes in the first three chapters that somehow didn’t get saved the first time I did it. Then my proposal package will be complete, and I can focus on editing the rest of the book. IF I can stay inside during the lovely summer evenings and get it done.

I think the next topic I post about will be a fatherless follow-up.

I felt so lethargic yesterday, really and truly crappy. I figured I wouldn’t be able to write a coherent sentence, but I needed some office time, so at seven o’clock I dragged my ass and laptop up the stairs. I was going to take it easy, probably do some free writing, maybe lie back in the stinky recliner and let my mind wander, definitely listen to some music, which I can’t do while I’m seriously writing.

I released the pressure to justify the office time with measurable progress. I typed in some notes while listening to Yahoo! radio. Opened the document containing my plot bullets and wrote a few sentences. And a few more. I looked up at the clock and saw an hour had passed, looked down at my computer screen and realized I’d accidentally written the entire one-page synopsis.

Coming out of the zone, I wondered what had happened to my music, but I’d turned it off at some point. Going over what I’d just written, I saw I’d also cleared up a few problematic names, and filled some long-standing plot holes. Accidentally. Don’t even remember doing it.

That’s so effing cool.