Select Lines: Red Rooster

Some lines that I like.

Red Rooster

Copyright © 2018 by Lauren Gilley

The tsarevich smoked a long moment, glancing out across the yard.

“Don’t look out there; there’s no answers there,” Nikita said. “Why are you coming along? Why are you helping?”

He took a deep breath, shoulders lifting and dropping. When his gaze returned, he seemed younger somehow; the polished, charming royal veneer had vanished, and he looked now like a lost child. “It’s…it’s been lonely,” he admitted, haltingly. “No one ever…there have been times when – when turning wasn’t an accident. When I just wanted a companion. But they never stayed.” His eyes flicked up to Nikita’s, his smile small and melancholy. “Everyone I ever turned left me. I think there’s something – something in the blood. It turns people…wrong, somehow.”

***

He stared at her a moment, the infuriating curve of her smile, the way she was amused by all of this. “Were you this smug in the Army?” he asked, and the smile dropped off her face. “Did you drive your CO up the wall?”

“No,” she said, getting to her feet. “I was a model soldier,” she said over her shoulder as she went to the fridge, and pulled out the box of injections. Her fingers shook a little as she worked the clasp.

Jake knew that everyone on the team had received a medical discharge from the Army, but he had no idea what sorts of injuries any of them had suffered. He wanted to ask her, suddenly: what was it for you? Which part of you starts to fail when you wait too long between shots?

***

Jack let out a deep, tired-sounding breath. “Ah, kid.” He leaned over and patted Rooster’s forearm. “You did the best you could.”

“But that wasn’t good enough.”

Jack sent him a level look. “Most of the time it’s not. Mainly because the world is full of people who don’t try to be anything – good or otherwise.”

Rooster…couldn’t disagree with that.

“Sometimes enough isn’t possible, and all you can do is good.”

***

His eyes. She recognized a bit of herself in him. Or, not really. He wasn’t like her, she didn’t think, but he was different. Not altogether human.

“Are you a doctor?” she asked, voice a rough, dry scrape.

He didn’t flinch, but his mouth tightened. “No. But you’re a mage.”

“A what?”

He cupped his hand; it was empty, the gesture was unmistakable: the way she held her own hands when she called fire.

“I didn’t know that’s what it was called,” she admitted.

He took a breath, nostrils flaring, brows pinching together over his long, straight nose. “Do you know who your parents are? Were?”

“I don’t have parents.”

“Yes, you do. I can smell them in your blood.” He growled; a quiet pulse of sound, a rumble like an unhappy dog.

Yes, he was different.

Carter

I don't know what this is. I really don't. It's not a book. Just a little thing.

Afternoon sunlight lay butter-yellow across the manicured grass of the practice field. The varsity team was fanned across the grass in basketball shorts and sweat-soaked t-shirts, doing burpees. A red-faced strength coach screamed encouragements, and water boys stood at the ready, cups all lined up on the long table that held the Gatorade cooler.

#RedRooster Sneak Peek: Chapter Two

Happy Valentine's Day! I have a little treat for y'all: a special sneak peek at all of chapter two of Red Rooster, Sons of Rome book two! Please be warned that this has NOT been edited AT ALL. So forgive typos and flubs; this is nothing but raw text. And also be aware that this contains MAJOR spoilers for the end of White Wolf. 

With that in mind, please enjoy diving back into the mess with the gang. ❤

From

Red Rooster

Copyright © 2018 by Lauren Gilley

2

Manhattan, New York

Present Day

A phone was ringing. The gentle chiming of the iPhone’s alert was far preferable to the shrill call of the landline it had replaced, but it was still an unwanted disturbance at – Nikita cracked his eyes open a crusty millimeter and read the dial on the bedside clock – four-thirty in the morning. As Sasha would say: ugh.

Speaking of Sasha.

Writing 2100: Intro to Storytelling

Writing 2100: Intro to Storytelling

Welcome to the 2000 level courses in the seminar! In the past few weeks, we’ve talked about the fundamentals of all effective writing: sentence structure, punctuation, and diction. As we go forward and begin talking about storytelling in earnest, I, your humble author, must confess that discussions from here on out will begin to sound more biased. Each author has had his or her own unique experiences when it comes to writing and publishing, and thus our advice will always be slanted – we’re going to talk about what works for us, and what we enjoy reading in the media we consume. No two writers approach the craft the same way, so just bear that in mind as we proceed. I will, though, try to speak as universally as possible.

What’s in a Story?

A story is, at its core, a piece of writing that is about something. There are characters and there is a plot – though plot is an element left to writer interpretation. There’s a quote from Sylvia Plath that I love:

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”

Some stories are tautly-crafted and action-packed, while others are gentle and meandering. There’s an audience for every kind of story – perhaps a small one, for certain stories, but it’s there. As an author, you tend to gravitate toward certain storytelling techniques and styles, I know I certainly have, and that’s what we’ll talk about for the next few weeks.

First, let’s talk about the difference between plot-driven and character-driven storytelling.

Plot-Driven

In a plot-driven story, the external action is the most important element, or the driving force, of the story itself. Authors like Tom Clancy or Michael Crichton employed this brand of storytelling: thrilling adventures full of intrigue and action in which the characters are quickly-sketched vehicles through whose eyes the audience can witness the plot unfold. The emphasis is placed on what happens, when it happens, and how it happens, but you aren’t necessarily given an intimate, personal look at the characters.  

Character-Driven

By contrast, a character-driven story is all about the internal journey of the main character(s). A person’s growth, their emotional journey, are the focus, with the plot supporting this through events that test and change them. If a plot-driven story is about a disaster, a character-driven story is about the ways a disaster affects the people who live through it. Most literary fiction is character-driven, providing insight into the human condition.

A Little Bit of Both

Most books are a combination of both storytelling approaches. For instance, I like to think of my own books as character-driven, because for me, it begins and ends with the characters. Who they are, how they grow, how they affect the world around them – that’s my focus as an author. But I also like to include plenty of drama and action in the plot. I’m selfish that way: why can’t I do both? It’s something I discovered about myself a few years ago, when I began to seriously pursue writing as a career. For me, aesthetic, emotional nuance, and realism are key, and those are earmarks of character-driven stories. But I want the plot to have a little panache, too, which is a more plot-driven kind of storytelling.

While it’s common to see either/or in certain genres, there’s no hard-line rule to that effect.

Your homework: think about your very favorite books, and ask yourself which category they fall into: is the focus on the character’s journey? Or on the overall plot? Understanding what you love can help you understand what you want to write.

Ava/Mercy Valentine's Day Short

In a perfect world, I would write a little snippet for each couple. Assume the rest of the Dartmoor crew had similar evenings. 😄

“What’s in the bag?” Aidan asked, gesturing to it with his sandwich. He had a mouthful of meatball sub, though, so that’s at least what it sounded like he asked. He sprayed crumbs down into his lap and a dab of marinara sauce dripped out, unnoticed, onto the knee of his jeans. Because he was a fucking slob who wouldn’t appreciate what Mercy had in the bag at all.   

Writing 1104: Diction

Diction

Diction is word choice, and for an author, word choice is…pretty much the entirety of your job. No pressure.

No, but seriously, I think of it like this: if you’re choosing to write for fun, or for profit, there’s a good chance you love words, and arranging them together to form sentences, characters, and stories is more fun than piecing together Legos as a kid. Writers express themselves through words, and the words they choose in particular have the ability to affect a reader’s perception of the story. Smart, sophisticated word choice can make the difference between a scene and an engaging scene. Diction can also take a vague passage and make it unique and specific.

Here are my personal rules on the topic:

Be Specific

Sometimes – as was the case in a line I wrote this morning – your wording can be vague in order to express a character’s struggle to understand something. In the scene, Trina was looking at Lanny and struggling to pin down his expression; she couldn’t decipher the way he was looking at her. But in general, it’s best to be specific. Sometimes, I think a lack of specificity indicates that the writer isn’t sure how he or she wants to describe something. But immersive writing is bolder than the way we talk to one another every day.

In conversation, you might say, “It was kinda cold on the boat.”

But written effectively, a sentence might read: A cool breeze lifted off the water, raising goosebumps on her arms.

Instead of “kind of cold,” or “sort of cold,” or “a little bit cold,” you could use words like cold, frigid, artic, freezing; or cool, chilly, tepid.

Don’t say someone’s eyes are “weird-looking.” Tell me that they’re reptilian, or predatory, or stormy, or pale, or flinty, or dark, or warm, amber-colored.

Be Correct

Typos happen. Even in NYT bestsellers put out by the big publishing houses. That’s understandable, and unavoidable. But when you’re deciding to use a word, make sure you know what it means and that you’re using it correctly.

That seems like a no-brainer, but it’s important. If you can’t tell someone what a word means…go look it up. Double-check it if you have doubts.

The trickier issue is using a word that isn’t wrong, per se…but could be better. A word that has mostly the same meaning, but not quite.

A common example is the way the words mumble, mutter, and murmur are used interchangeably – when in fact each word holds a slightly different connotation. To mumble is to say something at a low volume, quiet and indistinct so that others have trouble hearing it.  This can be conscious or unconscious – someone who’s asleep and dreaming, or who’s delirious with fever, might mumble incoherently. Muttering, however, implies that the speaker is angry or irritated, dissatisfied. “Screw you,” he muttered. If it’s said with the intention that someone or something go to hell – that’s muttering as opposed to mumbling. By contrast, to murmur is to speak quietly, indistinctly with a positive energy. A murmur can be romantic, intimate, or lonesome. Nostalgic. Murmuring is gentle, soft.

“I don’t…I can’t…” he mumbled, shaking his head, eyes squeezing shut.

“This is so stupid,” he muttered.

“Stay with me,” he murmured.

I once saw an author describe a character’s gaze as “jiggling around the room.” I knew what the author meant – that the character was looking around the room, gaze jumping from person to person, searching. But the word choice was poor. Jiggle made me think of Jell-O. Of my own thighs when I walk. Of testing a door handle. It also brought to mind plastic googly eyes that roll around when you shake a stuffed animal. Authors are always looking for new, original ways to say things, but that spirit of originality shouldn’t be taken so far that diction suffers. Gazes can dart, can flicker, can jump, can shift, can sweep…all would have been better alternatives in this instance.

Vocabulary Building

The best way to improve diction is simply to read. Read a lot. Read widely. As a reader, you’re under no obligation to read anything but the books you enjoy most. But as an author, I take serious the responsibility that I should write with correctness and authority. So as a writer, I would recommend that you read outside your comfort zone. Read critically-acclaimed literary fiction. Read horror. Read sci-fi. Read Classics. Read romance. The more widely read you are, the better grasp you’ll have on the ways language can be used to greatest effect; the better your vocabulary will be. As you read, take note of words; look up the ones you don’t know; study the way each particular author uses diction to impact meaning. Take note of passages that inspired negative emotions; pick apart your preferences and you’ll start to find patterns in the way you want to use language in your own writing.