Guess What the Cat Just Let Outta the Bag?

Last Friday, I got my first paycheck. Could it be that I am finally moving out of perpetual Micawberism to something a bit more...pocket-moneyish? Seems like. The first week of nannying went quite well and my two wards and I even wrote and illustrated bed-time books for them. That was, after all, Lila's (5) first condition upon hearing I was an author: "Can Miss Rachel help me write a book? She can write the words and I'll draw the pictures." And so we did. This masterpiece is entitled: The Princess And Her Dragon and is about a royal who is afraid of the dark and the brave and "huge-big" dragon named William who is given to her as a gift to puff fire all night so she won't be without light. Lila dictated to me and most of the words were her own. (Including the rather pithy line: "And she was no longer afraid because she had the moon and the stars and fire and she knew that light was on her side.") In case you were wondering, for Lila, this was rather autobiographical. All except the dragon part. She specifically asked to write a book to read before bed so she would not be afraid.

I am excited for two reasons:

#1: I ought to be getting Elisabeth Grace Foley's Mrs. Meade Mysteries Vol. I today and I am looking forward to being able to read these stories in paperback edition. I am in the middle of three books right now so I can't start straight away, but I shall soon!

#2: Anne Elisabeth emailed me this morning and we have an official release date for Five Glass Slippers! Not certain whether it was meant to be public but I tweeted and spilled the proverbial beans before giving it much thought so, you will all be able to purchase this amazing collection of stories on

June 14th, 2014

And you know what's even cooler about this news? You can officially pre-order Five Glass Slippers on Amazon.com! Also, go add it on Goodreads too! I know it's an amazing book because I let myself read the first chapter or two of each story and not only are the stories rather wonderful, but the book itself is precious in terms of interior design. You'll simply have to wait to find out what's what because I obviously cannot show you the galley-proof I also received in my inbox. If I've been a bit in regards to my own writing, it is only because I'm still editing Anon, Sir, Anon and it's going slowly because of work and on top of this, I'm about to start formatting a friend's debut novel and I'm in the depths of reading a certain amazing epic that, for all its virtues, must be read on the computer and is undoubtedly long (Wonderfully long, but length means time). So all that means that even if I knew what my next project was going to be, I have no time for it yet. So there. If you are interested to learn more about the various Cinderellas in Five Glass Slippers, you must head over to the blog dedicated to just such things and check it out! I cannot wait for June to come around so you can all read The Windy Side of Care...truly, I have a feeling you're going to like Alis... And now for some entirely random items on the list of things that you didn't need to know but will probably be interesting all the same:

Hand massages feel divine

Someone actually made the scones from my last post 

 If I was a character from LotR, I would be Sam, evidently

Agents of SHIELD's latest episode just about killed me

I am apparently a good public speaker

I am fonder than ever of Wodehouse

Our team is officially over 100% funded for our trip to Romania!

Five Glass Slippers Eye-Candy

Yesterday, I received my title-page for The Windy Side of Care! Isn't it a beauty? I cannot wait for Five Glass Slippers to come out. June really isn't that far away! And on that note, if you want to know more about my story as well as the others, do hop over the to Five Glass Slippers blog! I believe Elisabeth Brown has just done a post about her version of "Cinderella" from What Eyes Can See. I have seen the majority of the title pages and they are all simply beautiful. Cannot wait to read the others stories and share my Alis with you! (Fun fact: the designer paid heed to the way Alis is described and the crown at the top and her up-flung arm are direct nods to the plot. I warned you.) I was so excited to see this in my inbox yesterday. Who else is excited? ;)

The Windy Side of Care! {It won}

Yesterday morning, after several months of waiting for the Day of Judgement for Anne Elisabeth Stengl's Five Glass Slippers contest, I discovered that The Windy Side of Care had won a place in the anthology! You know how surprised I am. I know so many excellent writers who entered this contest; when my Australian friend, Joy, awakened me with a FB message all in capslock proclaiming my win, I had some time believing it wasn't an extension of the dream I had just pulled myself out of in which I had barely squeezed onto the winners list. Subsequent congratulations from friends and re-checking of the announcement showed that my story had, indeed, been chosen. Crikey. Rooglewood Press is going to publish the anthology this June, as they said in the official announcement.

I am so thrilled and astonished and ever so slightly puzzled that I won. I knew I liked Alis and Auguste but my taste runs contrary to so many other peoples' in these things that I doubted it would last to the final round. Well. Apparently it did and now my Spring shall be extra busy with all the revisions and edits to make. I am looking forward to the challenge of working with real editors/proof-readers/publishers. It is going to be a push and a shove but I expect to learn so much. Also, getting to work with Anne Elisabeth Stengl on a project is an honor itself. This is entirely useless information, but as it turns out, my name (and thus story) is smack in the middle of the other winners since they arranged it in alphabetical order. This makes me happy; I don't find being out in the front of the pack quite terribly comfortable. :)

Thanks to the unexpected win, this means that when you have purchased and read (and hopefully loved) Fly Away Home, there will be another little dose of "me" ready for you by June! My little career is taking off to a busy start and I find myself feeling professional, breathless, and a little confused at the sheen of it. I know there were many excellent stories that did not make it into the collection, and to these authors, I still say congratulations: you had the courage, talent, and determination to actually re-tell the story of Cinderella in a multitude of ways and that is a success no matter how you view it. If it had been any of you instead of me, I would have been equally thrilled. We're in this business together, we writers. I can't wait to work with the other four authors on polishing this collection for your reading pleasure!

Also, rumor has it that Anne Elisabeth will be hosting another similar contest and has promised the cover will be even more delightful than the gorgeous one above. (!) Here's to second chances! My friend Meghan and I are praying that she chooses "Beauty and the Beast"...it is my very favorite fairy-tale. On a random note, I have a fancy to come down the aisle to "Beauty and the Beast" on my all-elusive wedding day...let us see what I fiance thinks of that idea. ;)

Cheers, everyone! My mind is full of Cinderella...wonder where I could get a pair of glass slippers?

"Hi, I'm a traveling bard."

There is nothing more terrifying to me as a writer than saying something is finished. Because just as soon as I say that, I keep thinking of ways I can improve the draft, changes I could have made, things I should have done. I finished editing The Windy Side of Care today and even now (literally right now) I can't help opening the document back up and scrolling through with a cagey eye, wondering if it's really good enough. I dislike word-count limits and I struggled to keep the story within the wraps of only 20,000 words. I did it, but when I got the feedback from my beta-readers, I had to go back and fix pacing. Do you know how hard that is when you have a word-limit? It was like the finest stitchery, easing paragraphs off the start of the story to allow for breathing-space at the back of it. Now I'm much more satisfied with the pacing, but it was hard there for a while, cutting scenes of masterful dialog. (Yes, I caved and saved a complete draft of the first take so that all those conversations can exist in their own dimension forever an' ever amen.) 19,989 words. That's what the current count is, and though I will probably permit myself one more scroll-through before actually sending the manuscript into Anne Elisabeth Stengl, I really am finished.

It's terrifying.

I shared this sentiment on Facebook and a wise acquaintance of mine said she had felt similarly recently until she stopped to ask herself, "Am I doing this to win or am I doing it for the joy of writing?" And just as soon as I read Emma's words, I realized that I wrote The Windy Side of Care out of the sheer fun of it. Personally, I think it's a lovely, rollicking retelling of Cinderella, full of unexpected twists and allusions. Even though Anne Elisabeth mentioned in one of her recent blog posts that she has had dozens of stories pouring in and can even tote up a pretty good list of who she thinks the winners will be (and my story hasn't even been sent in so that's a little disheartening), even though she might not even like my story or give it a second glance...why did I write it? I wrote it because I love Alis.

 I wrote it because I love Auguste. 

I wrote it because I adored the hijinks, the tongue-in-cheek, the sparring of this retelling. I wrote it strictly to please myself, and really this is where your professional platform starts to be defined:

Who do you write to please? How far are you willing to go to please them?

I have come to terms with the fact that I'm probably not the best choice for next World-Wide Best-Selling Author. Why? Because I write what it is on my heart to write. I'm not the girl who a publisher can label as "Our Next Beverly Lewis" and depend upon to write historical romance for the rest of my career. I am very comfortable in my style, voice, books and I know that Rachel Heffington probably isn't going to appeal to everyone. I don't hope for widespread fame, but for respectable recognition. Am I writing for everyone or am I okay to sing my tales to a heroic and devoted few? Some people would call my admission professional suicide. Doesn't EVERYONE aspire to be the next Novelist Everyone Loves? Well of course that'd be nice, but for me it is a clear case of exchanging the natural for the unnatural or, in simple terms, writing in my true voice or posing as someone else. I can ghost-write in pretty nearly any style--Dickens, Wodehouse, Austen, Freitag--and maybe I could spend my whole career doing that and being successful. But for me it isn't about winning, about being the best, about becoming the author everyone aspires to be like. For me it's mostly about the pleasure of creating a thing and watching other people delight in it, however few they might be. I have always felt a connection to how the Lord felt in Genesis:

"Then God said, 'Let the waters under the heavens be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear'; and it was so. And God called the dry land Earth and the gathering together of the waters He called Seas. And God saw that is was good." -Genesis 1:9-10

I can relate to that quiet sense of "I like this" and the satisfaction and joy that floods the soul over having made a good thing - a thing that points back to you as its creator and stayed true to your nature after you called it into being. Of course God's joy over His creation is far greater than mine in my stories could ever be, but it's a shade of the same thing. And if I decided to worry about Winning and Being the Best, I'd lose all joy in my creations because they'd go contrary to my nature. Some people were made for writing what's popular. The strength of some is the fact that they entrench themselves in one spot and build fortifications and ramparts and seize the playing field. Me? I'm a bit of a wandering soul. I like to ply my trade in many places in many times in many ways. So maybe I won't go down in legends, but I know I'll bring joy to anyone who sits by my fire to hear a merry tale.

I'm going to send The Windy Side of Care into the Five Glass Slippers Contest and from there, que sera, sera. If she doesn't like it I might just do something with it myself. Lengthen that word-count, expand the plot, give you a mind-boggling Cinderella-twist and publish it myself. Either way I'll be pleased. What about you? Are you a traveling bard or an established baron?

The Tap Can Now Be Turned Off

Monday dawns chill and perfectly autumnal. I head out to work with Sarah, Leah, and Dad and I don't fret about not having time to write today.

Why?

Because last night at 9:37 I finished the first round of edits for The Windy Side of Care. My family has been patient with me as I've holed up in The Lair in that zone of desperation where I scream like Sherlock, "YOU CAN'T JUST TURN IT ON AND OFF LIKE A TAP!" I always enter this zone in the home-stretch of my stories and beware your head if you dare interrupt me for something as menial as dirty dishes. Sorry guys; you're the top and I hope I didn't snarl too much.

At 11:00, right before tumbling into bed, I sent TWSOC to a list of beta-readers who were then quite prompt in getting on it and reading. (Two have already finished) I was blessed while writing this story with a strangely productive time-period; most days I managed almost 3,000 words which meant that the story built up quickly, leaving more time to edit. The problem was that I thought I had 25,000 words in which to spin my story. In reality, we are given 20,000 words which meant that in the end I had to find ways to cut over 4,000 out of the story. Painful right there. I managed to do it, though, and it is now in review with an army of readers. I am hopeful. Having to cut so many words caused me to have to tighten dialog and description which actually made the whole much stronger. Funny to read a scene pre-editing and post-editing...the change is enormous. I'll probably return to this topic by and by with a post of examples and some advice from one of my favorite writer-instructors.

In other news, the critique group I was a part of several years is beginning again just as I was telling a friend about how hard and yet rewarding it was to take the critique given. I am planning to join, though I will have to decide if The Baby can qualify as a YA novel; I think it serves the purpose well enough to fit and I am looking forward to sinking my teeth into the give and take of serious critique partners again. This group is tough-nails.

So I'm off to work and reading Two Years Before The Mast and I will leave those of you who aren't beta-reading The Windy Side of Care with this teaser:

Fifteen minutes more and I would spread the blood on the white stones of the outer balcony; a half hour and the murder would be announced.

-Part Six

All right, you can have a peep.

Don Pedro: "In faith, lady, you have a merry heart."
Beatrice: "Yea, my lord. I thank it, poor fool. It keeps on the windy side of care."

-Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing

The reason I have kept mum about The Baby in the last few posts is because I have not been working on The Baby. Logical enough. I have been working instead at The Windy Side of Care (currently titled thus), which is my novella for Anne Elisabeth Stengl's Five Glass Slippers contest. The reason for this is that my fall is filling up with several things that will be cutting out a total of at least three weeks' writing time and the final draft of my entry must be in by December. I want to finish the 25,000 words, get feedback, and edit all before that time and since any deadline on The Baby is self-imposed, I figured it could wait. I don't want to give too much of The Windy Side of Care away because if it doesn't make it as a winner in this particular contest, I might just Do Something With It, like publish it so you can have something of mine to read while I wait for all these others things to get properly published. (garump-guddy-rump) I did, however, think you might like a pitch and some snippets so you can see in which realm my brain has been working:
Lady Alis has never accepted the tale that her widowed father died and left her in the care of her step-mother, Laureldina; nowhere in the records can she find a man matching her alleged father's name, and her resemblance to the King of Ashby is too remarkable to ignore. Convinced that she was swapped at birth with the current Prince Auguste, Alis must stake her claim to the throne of Ashby before the prince's twenty-fourth birthday when he will be confirmed as the heir-proper. With the help of an errand-boy, an old woman, and a far-from-fairy godfather, Alis plots to take the throne. For all this careful planing, Alis never thought to fall in love, nor to murder the royal. But sometimes life--and love--is a bit risky on the windy side of care.

"If Auguste Blenheim the Pig had not stolen my birthright, dear Lord, would I be half as patient as I am?"

***

   The door to Laureldina's bedchamber was blocked by Charlotte Russe; it was a modern marvel how that great fat beast managed to get from one place to the other faster than I, a slender maiden, could. I suspected secret passages or teleportation, but that was unconfirmed.

***

   She took a bite of  toast with a dreamy sigh and rested the point of her chin in her hand. "J'adore mi amour."
   "Don't speak French, Vivienne." Clarisse rolled out of bed and pulled a yellow silk wrapper from the chair onto her curvaceous frame. "It's so inelegant."
   "But Clarisse, last month you told me it was the height of fashion."
Clarisse pushed me out of the way and hugged Vivienne's neck. "Of course I did dear. But that was before you started using it."

***

   "Well met, little shrew." William ran a hand over his smooth chin and shook his head, smiling at me. "You are the sort of harpie they write epics about, woman! The tongue on you is enough to cut a man at the knees and leave him begging for more."

***

   I kissed the letter to Lord Humphries with a prayer and handed it to Stockton. "He has agreed to help in any way he can and since I found that not a single Carlisle Bickersnath has ever lived or died in the kingdom..."
   "Never one? Gawwww." Stockton stuffed the last cookie in his mouth and slid off the stool. "Tha's just buildin' they army, ain't tha? First me and Ellen, now 'umphries...gawww."

***

   I pushed away from the wall, pressing my fingers against my temples to still the dizziness. "Well. I am safe...for now."
   "Safe from what?"
   William's sudden, sliding  voice sent a lightning-rod jolt up my spine and I wished for one moment that I was the kind of girl who fainted.

***

    "Ohhhh..blast it--do you know what I want to do? No, you would not guess; you're much too refined." With a quick step, Auguste grabbed Belkin by the jacket and shoved him toward the window, pressing the man's nose against the pane. "I want to go out there and find myself a plump village lass and kiss her--hard. Y'understand? I want to dig my hands in a dirty furrow and bring up a handful of potatoes and...and cook them myself. I want to ride Feather-Fellow at a full gallop and risk breaking my neck if I take a fancy for it, and I want to miss every Cabinet meeting from here till kingdom come!"

***

    It had been a mistake to come that close to him. William wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close, resting his chin on my head. "Alis, Alis. What's a man to do?"
   Struggle was useless. I folded my wings like a stubborn bird and made my head as much like a stone as possible so he'd not find it comfortable to rest there. "Do about what? Ask Laureldina for the extra two weeks and we'll go up to Weircannon and all will be well; Vivienne and Clarisse know lots of people--I'm sure they could find you a nice girl."
...William released me and pushed me ahead of him toward the house. "I don't know..." he said. "Girls don't like my sisters, y'know. Men trouble and all that."

***

   Charlotte Russe waddled to my feet and batted the hem of my skirt as if to demand some solace after being deposited in a basement kitchen by a dirty cabman who swore and smelled like sardines.

***

   I leaned against the table, hands pressed on the cool wood, and stared at Ellen. "You are a conniving devil!"
   She shrugged her shoulders. "Eh, ah'm a woman. Which is mostly th'same thing."

***

   I patted Auguste on the shoulder and smiled at a passing cab-driver so we might not look like a trio in the throes of a political drama of national importance. "Perhaps we'd better speak somewhere else," I said. "And just a pointer: you really don't know how to speak to a woman."

There you go! I hope you enjoyed this peek at The Windy Side of Care because since it's a contest-piece I can't give you any more than that. (And rest assured, whatever you may think you didn't read anything vital to the plot so tweedle-dee. You're none the wiser. ;) If any of you are entering the contest I'd love to see snippets of yours story. I had two plots going and this one just flew away with me and is probably the strangest Cinderella-story I've ever read. The judges may not like it, but it makes me laugh so I'm glad I've taken the time.