Too Many Books

I'm getting a little lost in a world of diapers and daycare. So I decided to start writing again. I've revamped my WIP and it feels amazing to work on it. I struggle with every sentence. I have this issue with perfection; I don't just want to spill it out. Stooopid. Before I got pregnant (or maybe while I was, I don't remember) I had an idea that I felt would take my WIP to a better place: a mysterious narrator, with a payoff for the reader at the end. So, I'm working with this idea, and playing with the ways to include narration without overtaking the "present action" (I'm generally a past-tense writer, so saying "present action" always seems funny and false to me.) And, I'm trying to be a more scene-oriented writer. When I read, I find it very irritating when a writer chooses to skip time without so much as a paragraph break. Yet when I look at the chunks of text I've already written, I find I do it, too. So, I'm off...

Here's my rewrite of my WIP excerpt, originally posted on  Roni's Beta Club . Let me explain that there is a prologue which details the events of May 2005. The "present action" in chapter one takes place in February 2005. Have a gander. Let me know if you think I'm on the right track for infusing flashblack. Chapter 1      One might assume that if Laurel was going to have a near-mental-breakdown that it would have happened after David's death, after his vague and -- what could only be alledged -- suicide a la slap-in-the-face.      No.      Instead, it was three months prior (eerily, almost three months to the day) when Laurel nearly went bat-shit crazy. __      "Tell me about your childhood, Laurel," said Dr. Mian as he settled into an oversized chair. He turned to face her. She thought he had kind eyes.      "Ah, yes. Childhood trauma. Don't all our stories reall...

This weekend, hubs spent $300.00 on a lawnmower. Yes, you read that right. Three.hundred.smackers. I feel it is my wifely duty to make sure he gets his money's worth out of said purchase. Just sayin'. In related news, I, Amber Leigh Tidd Murphy, do not have green thumbs. Tasks like mulching and weeding and sowing and reaping are really not in my arsenal of talents. That's why my neighbors have cutespice flower beds and I have overgrown shrubs and some out of control greenery from a failed attempt a few years ago. (I want to call it very all very organic  looking, but that would be a lie. What it is , is a hot mess.) (Though I don't dig outdoorsy gardening, I do prune the interior. Let's not get carried away.) Now, I could go all writerly here, and use some lame metaphor about weeding and pruning ones first draft, but since I haven't completed my MS, I am not allowed to do that. I sent my inner editor packing. She's currentl...

I almost forgot to post about this writerly contest over at Shooting Stars . Follow the link to find out how to enter. There are some great prizes, including some first-five-page critiques. That's certainly the prize I'm hoping to win. There's only a small window of time left to enter, so scoot on over there. So, I've been hard at work on my manuscript and even considered posting my prologue here for feedback, but I thought it might be a bit premature/ irresponsible (you know, paranoia about getting it ripped off.) I wish I was ready for beta readers. I have the prologue, and the first three chapters, which are solid. Complete. Chapter four is half finished, but one character appears at the beginning of the chapter with no real introduction. He's mentioned in the prolgoue, but I need to clarify how he and Laurel meet, or at least set the stage for their friendship prior to chapter four. (Note to self: don't forget to do that.) A later chapte...

Cozy up and let the sexual tension in: it's no kiss blogfest . (Note: scene written exclusively for no-kissy blogfest, but may just find its way into my WIP.) This scene takes place when my main character, Laurel, returns home from college for her fall break. She arrives in town too late to attend the play at her former high school -- but she and her best friend Paul stop by to inquire about the plans for the cast party. Paul is still in high school and has the "in" with the artsy crowd, but didn't perform in the school play because of commitments to Community Theatre.  Laurel's ex-boyfriend directed the play, and he and Laurel haven't seen each other since she left for college a few months before.      She and Paul walked toward the auditorium well after the lights had come up, just as the stars of the show were leaving, their stage make-up unnatural looking now under the harsh flourscent...