Tips for Writing Dialogue (A Twitter Thread from 2022)

It is BETTER to have TOO MANY dialogue tags telling readers who is talking than TOO FEW.

Too many--a reader's eye can skip over them as they're reading and they'll fade into the background.

TOO FEW and a reader is pulled out of the story with "Wait, what? Who said this??"

ALSO be cautious about breaking up your dialogue of a single speaker into multiple paragraphs without dialogue tags to indicate that the new paragraph is NOT someone else responding. Yes, you can have an unclosed quotation mark--but if the previous paragraph ends with internal narration or action, then the reader doesn't have anything to clue them in without a tag. You don't HAVE to start a new paragraph after an interjected internal thought/staging.

I totally overuse tags. I will "said" my way through every dang line of dialogue even when I have an action that will work for the beat/cadence pause I need instead. But the word "said" becomes invisible--excessive dialogue tagging is a risk you SHOULD take for clarity. (And something you can always pare back later in editing if it really is too much.)

One more dialogue tip:
It works best at the beginning and the end of a paragraph. Framing it inside a sandwich of action/thoughts/staging can result in the dialogue getting lost to the reader. Sometimes you need it, like if someone's frazzled or tripping but use sparingly.

These thoughts brought to you both by my current writing in which I am trying to rein myself in and let my action beats do a little more of the lifting, and also revisiting an old friend favorite read that lost me in the weeds of poorly framed dialogue this round.

A good, compulsive story with good characters/chemistry who you are rooting for desperately might overcome the technical issues in the actual writing as someone speeds through a book but--there's no reason to give readers an excuse like that to put it down, you know?

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Revisiting Forged by Fate, and Show vs. Tell

I'm revising FORGED BY FATE right now, for... well... reasons, and this book--there is so much of this book that I still love desperately, but in coming back to it twenty years after I started writing it, I've noticed some things that my baby authorself was doing, thinking it was THE RIGHT WAY TO WRITE that, well. Were kind of the opposite of helpful in getting my points across.

Let's talk about Show vs. Tell.

As a baby author, I was clearly determined to show everything! Instead of telling people how a character was feeling, I used physical responses. He hesitated. She closed her eyes. He tightened his jaw. She shifted away.

Listen. These kinds of small physical movements are all well and good--but there's a problem with relying on them as the sole means by which you communicate emotion. And that problem is this: By themselves they don't actually communicate the underlying emotion at all.

In Chapter Eight of FORGED BY FATE, there's a moment when Eve is still new and still struggling to understand the world and the people around her. She's with Adam in a cave where he and the other residents of the Garden have taken shelter, and he is--well, imposing himself on her, really.

 Eve shivered at his touch, and that seemed to please him. He raised his hand to her face, cupping her cheek and drawing his thumb along her cheekbone. She forced herself not to look away. Not to move. But everything inside her twisted. She wanted to crawl away into the darkness, but there were no shadows now to hide her. His face was so close she could feel his breath on her lips.

“Lord Adam!” She jumped, though the voice was familiar. Reu.

Adam closed his eyes for a moment, then turned his head slowly. “What is it?”

Now, Eve is new, so there's a certain amount of grace I need to give myself here, because trying to write someone who literally was only just created and is still in the process of understanding literally everything around her is AN UNREAL CHALLENGE to start with. But. Read that last line again:

Adam closed his eyes for a moment, then turned his head slowly. 

What is it actually telling us about Adam's response, emotionally? I mean, we might guess, as readers, what past me was trying to convey. Maybe he's tired. Maybe he's annoyed by the interruption. Maybe he's actually angry. Maybe he's just power-tripping, making Reu wait on principle. You, the reader, cannot actually know. BUT. Eve does. And the reason she knows is that he's touching her, and we know already from the text that when Adam is touching her, whether he realizes it or not, his feelings and thoughts bleed through the contact.

So why was baby author me holding back? 

Because of the age old mantra: Show, don't tell, a rule I was foolishly trying to live by to my detriment.

But showing, by itself, is IMPRECISE. I'm not communicating effectively what's happening, I'm leaving my readers to guess. And while there's nothing wrong with that, in the right circumstances--when the point of view character is guessing too, for instance--in this one, I was letting a mantra get in the way of clarity.

Eve shivered at his touch, and that seemed to please him. He raised his hand to her face, cupping her cheek and drawing his thumb along her cheekbone. She forced herself not to look away. Not to move. But everything inside her twisted. She wanted to crawl away into the darkness, but there were no shadows now to hide her. 

His face was so close she could feel his breath on her lips.

“Lord Adam!” She startled, though the voice was familiar. Reu.

Adam closed his eyes for a moment, then turned his head slowly, his body stiff with impatience. “What is it?”

Impatience. Now you, the reader, know precisely what emotion is motivating Adam's physical response, just like Eve. His patience is reaching a limit. Time for her is running out. Am I telling, by including that word? A little bit. But in telling, in giving that word to the reader, I'm making the passage STRONGER. My writing is clearer and more effective and Eve's response afterward, is given more support.

(And yeah, I changed Eve's jump response, too, because she didn't jump. Her response was small, a start of surprise. But baby author me hated the word startle and bent over backward to avoid its usage--again, to the detriment of clarity.)

Show, don't tell is a valuable piece of advice for writers. ALL TELLING is boring as heck! We all know that! But it isn't a hard and fast rule that we need to contort ourselves to accommodate. Let it be a MODERATOR, sure, but when it gets in your way, like almost every other "Rule" of writing--it's okay to throw it out.

--

Glad Yule, friends!

Tune in next year for some fun announcements regarding what's coming down the pipe--or join me over on Patreon, and for as little as a dollar a month, you'll find out before the year is up :)

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The Evolution of a Secondary Character (Part III)

How about a SERIES buy link?

AT LAST WE HAVE ARRIVED!
(And once again, SPOILERS ABOUND! So if you haven't read Beyond Fate, you'll probably want to skip this -- unless you want to view it as an excessive tease, I guess. but. I don't recommend it!)

So after I got my (very long and very in depth) editorial letter on the manuscript I had submitted to WWP (represented by last week's less than stellar scene work -- and to think at the time I thought it was some of my best writing. yikes.), I had some brainstorming to do, and some serious rethinking of Marcus's role. He was problematic as a character because, well, he didn't HAVE a lot of character. Maybe a little bit of jealous personality but that was all he had going for him when it came down to it. So what was I trying to DO with him? What purpose was he meant to serve? Jealous friend-zoned guy wasn't going to cut it.

There were two major elements:

1. I wanted him to be a representation of Eve's dissatisfaction. For the first two books, Eve had been happy to embrace her role in the world, but after everything she's experienced, everything that's happened to her -- well, she's struggling. She's grown a little bit more jaded and a lot less content. I needed a love interest for her that could illustrate some of why that was. (And by love interest, I do mean "guy interested in her.")


2. He needed to be Joe Normal. A John Doe. A human, mortal tether for Eve, to ground her in the world. Kind of like Garrit and the House of Lions, but on a smaller and far less successful scale. Ultimately, he wouldn't completely succeed, and maybe he was being set up to fail, but he had to be positioned in such a way that he could give it his all. Marcus had to be the normal person who might have been perfect for Eve -- before Adam and Thor.

Maybe those two elements are more just one really complex element, but ultimately, those were the purposes Marcus had to serve in the book -- in Eve's story -- and so that was the shape I needed to grow him into. And it needed to start with their history.

In the Draft One (his second incarnation) Marcus had become someone who Eve had kind of grown up with. The Boy Next Door. But I hadn't done anything with that information, beyond using it as a reason for why he didn't buy Eve's blithe explanation of Adam as a long lost brother. (Something along the lines of "Uhhh, you never had a brother before? I think I would have noticed.") But in the final draft, I dug deeper into that. Marcus had to KNOW Eve. Or at least he had to know the girl he'd grown up with. And the struggles she'd faced. And I needed to give the readers a sense of how MUCH history they shared with more than just a one-off line.

It was still an awkward meal, though in a very different way than it might have been. Marcus had temporarily given up his planned romantic overtures, evidently believing that Thor had gotten to her first, and neither Eve nor Thor dissuaded him of the notion. Not that it had stopped Marcus from showing off.

“Anna can’t stand to be around children,” he said at one point. “Didn’t you ever notice the way she recoils? I’m sure you must have run across packs of them during your adventures, overseas.”

Thor had just refilled her wine cup, and if Marcus didn’t notice the way he hesitated, his hand hovering frozen with the bottle for just a heartbeat longer than it should have, Eve certainly did.[...] Marcus may not have realized the significance of what he was saying, but if Thor had watched her all this time, he surely did.

“The elderly, too,” Marcus went on. “We tried to get her to volunteer at a retirement community during our Twelves, and she had an anxiety attack. Head between her knees, trouble breathing, the whole works. Lucky for her, I was there. But she was always odd about large groups of people, anyway, growing up. The most introverted of introverts.” He smiled. “Good thing I was friends with everyone for her or she’d never have made it through grade school. Don’t you remember, Anna?”

She remembered. She remembered Marcus’s encouragement and kindness on their first day of school, his hand wrapped tightly around hers, lending her the strength to face their classroom when she’d been overwhelmed by even the thought of so many minds. He’d never understood. How could he? Marcus loved people so easily. And they loved him back. Because he never judged, never faulted. Hadn’t she been that way, once? Before she’d learned her lesson. Before Adam had left her. Before Elah had drowned her in silence. She couldn’t even remember how she’d managed in her past lives, not when the noise of it stretched her so thin, now. So brittle. She’d been devastatingly lonely in her last life, walking a fine line on the edge of sanity, but this? The way the world felt to her now, all yawning green pits of despair and starvation. In its own ways, it was worse.

“First day of our Nines, when we got off the bus, I thought she was going to faint,” Marcus said, laughing far too lightly for a friend treading much too near to truths they’d sworn never to speak of in company. “Her face went whiter than snow when she saw how many of us there were. My poor, socially stunted girl. Her parents tried to put her on medication for the anxiety, but she was having none of it, even then. And now? Forget it.”

“Enough, Marcus,” she said. The weight of Thor’s curiosity had shifted toward concern and she was fast losing what was left of her patience. Marcus had never understood, but he had promised not to tell anyone about the severity of her troubles, as a child. Not her parents. Not their few mutual friends. Certainly not Thor.

It had been difficult for her to readjust to living within the world. Difficult to live. And maybe Marcus hadn’t understood, but he’d been there, always, to help her through. Crawled in through her window to keep the nightmares away, when they were children. Locked the other girls out of the bathroom for her at school when she’d been crippled by migraines and had to get away from all the noise of undisciplined minds and furious hunger. Cut school to take her home for the same reasons, when they were both older. And she’d never been certain if he’d done everything he’d done because she’d called to him, manipulated him, or because he’d just . . . known.

But they weren’t children anymore. And he wasn’t looking to take up residence in her bed just because he was worried about her. Not this time. Though she couldn’t honestly say it wasn’t part of what contributed to his overprotective habits.

Is he kind of a jerk to go about things the way he does? Maybe. But his heart is in the right place. It had to be in the right place or Eve never would have tolerated him for long. But if Marcus was going to be protective and jealous, I wanted him to have a darn good reason for it. Not just "I want to date you." But "I want you to be happy and healthy and safe and I know you've had a hard time your whole life, and I'm going to keep standing by you even when you push me away. And yeah, btw, I think I could be the perfect man for you, but that's secondary to the rest of this."

Which meant our cafeteria scene from Part II got a revamp:

“Is it so impossible that alone, in a strange place, I might form a relationship with someone?”

“No, of course not.” Marcus raked his fingers through his hair. “But did it have to be him?”

“Did you have to date that gorgeous model from Sweden? Or what was her name? The transfer student when we were in our tens? Come on, Marcus. I never once stood in your way in all the years we’ve known each other. I don’t know why you’re getting in my face now.”

“You know exactly why, Anna. And even if you expect me to believe you don’t—you can’t compare this with any of that. You need me.”

She sat down with her fruit, and found her cheeseburger and fries already waiting for her, spit out by the printer. All she’d had to eat was some mint tea to help settle her stomach so she didn’t have to fake interest in her food to avoid engaging any further down that line of reasoning. It was too much to hope she wouldn’t have to engage any further at all, and Marcus plopped down across from her, looking absolutely miserable.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” she asked, frowning.

“I was too busy agonizing over having left you alone with an unknown quantity when I knew you’d had too much to drink. And the way you were acting—I know you haven’t had an attack in years, but after China, and coming back to school, for all I knew it might have been a perfect storm for a comeback tour of crippling brain-fail.”

“I’m fine, Marc.”

“But you’re different,” he said, scrubbing his face with the heels of his hand. “Every year, you push me further away. You push everyone away, and what are you going to do the next time you need help getting out of a situation that’s sending you down the rabbit hole? Or do you really want to be alone that badly? Because that’s where this is going if you keep this up, and I’m not even sure you realize it.”

She picked at her fries and said nothing. Of course she realized it. She’d been trying to shed him almost since he’d befriended her, and no one else had ever stood even half a chance. It wasn’t his fault he was exactly what she was hoping to avoid—a romance she couldn’t afford emotionally. If she’d met him before Adam, before Elah’s birth, before Thor . . .

But she hadn’t. And she was done with love. Done with these relationships that only ended in pain and loss, and that yawning green pit beneath her feet.

“Anna, I’m really trying here.”

“I know.”

“Can you help me out? Give me something.”

She shook her head. “That’s just it, Marc. I don’t have anything left.”

So once I had their history sorted out, there was still the issue of their romance -- such as it was. But giving them that history meant their romance made more sense. It was still about convenience for Eve, to a point (she *has* to be engaged with the world, and she can't do that if she's walling everyone off from herself), but it wasn't ONLY about convenience, because they both genuinely cared for one another.

“I can’t give you what you deserve.” The words were bitter on her tongue, and she grimaced. Hadn’t she just had this argument with Adam, and now here she was, using his excuse for herself. “I love Thor. I’m always going to love him, and you’re always going to be hoping for more from me, but it isn’t ever going to compare.”

[...]

“Just wait,” he said, his smirk shifting into something softer. He set his bottle aside and took hers, too, leaning closer in a way that told her he wasn’t at all dissuaded. “Let me make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

She crossed her arms, and eyed him. “Go on.”

The last thing she wanted was this night to end by having to walk him out of her room against his will. Not that she wasn’t above it, in self-defense. Anymore. But if she didn’t let him say his part, knowing Marcus, she could be sure he wouldn’t forget, and she’d be treated to it at their next meeting, all the same.

He grinned, an acknowledgment of his own foibles as much as it was his confidence. “If you need a distraction, I can give it to you. I can keep your mind tied up in knots of pleasure, if that’s what you want. And as a friend,” he emphasized the word with a comical leer, “I’m more than happy to provide you with that service. There’s no reason this has to be all or nothing, Anna. We’re not living in the dark ages, no matter how many paper books you buy.”

She shook her head. “That isn’t the kind of woman I am.”

“Then it’s going to be a long lonely life waiting for Thor to show up again,” he said, leaning back. “I don’t think you’re that kind of woman either. And don’t cite the last however many years to me. I’ve had a lot of time to think about all this, and when we were younger, you had no problem snuggling up with me. You were a lot more friendly across the board when you weren’t denying yourself every kind of affection. Case in point, tonight.”

Eve snorted. “Unbelievable.”

He wasn’t wrong, and that was what made it all that much more ridiculous. He really wasn’t going to give up. No matter how many times she told him she couldn’t love him the way he deserved to be, it wouldn’t make a lick of difference. He’d just change his attack plan and try again. Though she had to admit, this “it’s okay if it’s completely meaningless” approach was the last thing she’d expected.

“And yet, it’s all true,” he said. “You can’t lie to me, Anna. I know all your secrets.”

And Eve's pregnancy revelation -- that got a revamp too:

She let out a breath. “If I tell you the truth, you have to swear you aren’t going to go all noble on me. You’ve got a lot of youth left and you shouldn’t be throwing it away taking care of me. You should be out having fun with Sophia, or Ashley.”

He snorted. “Sure thing, Grandma.”

“I’m serious, Marcus. I’m not going to do this with you. I’m not going to do this with anyone. I’ve had enough of the grief that goes with it.”

“Anna, you’ve never had to go it alone a day in your life, and your life has barely been a blip on the map. Stop talking like you’re an octogenarian, and spill.”

She bit her tongue on a protest and ground her teeth. The problem with being Anna and not Eve at this age was the utter discount of her experiences. Marcus was the worst of all, because she couldn’t bluff on what her life had been like before they’d met. Well, fine. She’d given him an out, and she’d give him plenty more, and if that didn’t work, she’d find some other way.

“I’m pregnant.”

His jaw tightened, and he rocked back. “Whose is it?”

She shook her head.

“So it could be mine.”

“It doesn’t matter either way. You’re not ready to be a father, and I’m not interested in entering into any contracts.”

“Anna, for the last month and a half, it’s been you and me. No contracts, just us being us. You’re my girl, and no matter who the father is, I’m not going to leave you high and dry.”

“I’m not your girl, Marcus,” she said, even the thought of the old argument making her tired. “We have fun together, and you’re a great distraction, but that’s it. That’s all that this is ever going to be, and I made that clear to you from day one.”

“Now who’s being ridiculous?”

“You are! You’re supposed to be sterile. Why should you take any responsibility for a child that isn’t even yours?”

He shrugged. “I always knew my boys could take care of business, if they really wanted it. I mean, it isn’t unheard of. Sometimes implants fail, and you certainly didn’t impregnate yourself, but mine or not, even if you insist that we’re never going to be more than this, this still means we’re friends. And friends don’t ditch one another when things get rough. I’d never be able to look your parents in the eye again, if I did.”

“This isn’t about my parents.”

“No, it’s about you. And denial. And lie after lie after lie. I’m not even sure you tell yourself the truth anymore, Anna, because you can keep saying this is just about fun and you’re eternally in love with someone else, fine, but he left you, and it doesn’t seem like he’s planning on coming back.”

She rolled over, turning her back to him, and focusing on the wall. On the touch of Thor’s love in the back of her mind, promising eternity, if she could only reach him. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t coming back. It wasn’t his fault they couldn’t be together. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know there’s no way you’d have let me in your bed if you thought this was only some vacation. If you really believed there was any chance you’d be together again, you’d have kicked me right back out of your room, no matter what secrets I knew.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t want to think about anything that he was saying.

“Maybe what you feel for me won’t compare to what you shared with him,” Marcus said, much more gently. “But it doesn’t mean there isn’t something here. It doesn’t mean there isn’t love, Anna. And fun. And happiness. Tell me I don’t make you happy, and I’ll leave right now.”

But that had been the whole point. The distraction. The pleasure. She wouldn’t have been with him at all if he hadn’t given her that much. And he knew it. He’d known it from the start. She pulled the pillow over her head and shut her eyes.

Maybe Marcus was still in the dark about some of the truths of Eve's life, but he's loyal. Not just the jealous shoe anymore, but a steadfast friend as well as her lover. Someone who is consistently willing to call her out when she's overly maudlin, or acting inconsistently with the life she's engaged in. He's not just a sidebar, but a solid secondary character who is trying his absolute best to do right by someone he considers his closest friend. And yeah, sometimes he still gets jealous -- but it's not his defining characteristic anymore. He's also funny, even charming. Light-hearted and stubbornly supportive -- all the things Eve needs to keep herself balanced. And we see that it still isn't enough -- that it will never really be enough for her -- but he's going to keep trying.

Which is why I'm writing him a little epilogue of his own. I'll be including it in the anthology I'm putting together for the existing Fate of the Gods novellas and shorts, titled FACETS OF FATE.

Because maybe Marcus isn't everyone's favorite character -- he really can't compete with Thor and Adam and he's not supposed to be able to compete with them -- but I think he deserves an end to his own story, all the same.

Watch the blog for more information about FACETS OF FATE coming soon, including cover art and a release date!

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The Evolution of a Secondary Character (Part II)

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To experience The Original Marcus Iteration -- Klikk Klikk for Part I! But if you haven't read Beyond Fate, BEWARE SPOILERS! ALL THE SPOILERS!

(Also blogfriends, 2008/9 me was just not as good of a writer, I apologize. Thank goodness for my editor and the rewrite that came after this draft!!!)

Marcus's second incarnation was a little bit more fleshed out -- if not much more sympathetic. He had graduated from background guy to jealous background guy, for the most part, so it wasn't much of a step up. But he definitely took up a lot more physical space in both Eve's life and the first third/half of the book as a whole, and that gave him a little bit more room for personality. Even if it was the kind of personality you wanted to roll you eyes at more than root for!

So in this installment, I've got three scenes for you -- Marcus's most significant, I think, in his second coming. Two with Eve, and one with Thor, and between them, they kind of map the majority of his arc. (I use the term "arc" loosely here, because mostly he's just jealous friend-zoned guy who then gets the girl because she settles, but ultimately he doesn't get to keep her, and we never really find out how he resolves any of that heartbreak.)

This scene from Draft One (as opposed to Source Material Draft Zero) ended up getting significantly reworked, but the gist of the conversation still made it into the final cut -- meet Marcus round two, in a very special performance of Jealous Shoe:

Marcus met her in the dining hall as she breezed through to pick up some fruit. All these lives later and strawberries were still her favorite thing to eat in the mornings. The first fruit she had ever tasted, in the cave, in the Garden, that first morning after she had been made.

They didn’t taste quite the same anymore. Were never the same if they weren’t found growing wild and fresh. But they were still strawberries.

“So who is this Thor guy?” Marcus asked, leaning against the counter next to her.

She recognized that he was trying to be casual, and wondered if it would be better, or worse, if she pointed out to him that he was failing. She shook her head and picked a dozen or so of the reddest, ripest berries from where they sat on top of a cooler, tossing them into a bag to eat during her class.

“He told you. We met overseas. We must have had the same plans, because we ended up at all the same spots. We traveled together for a little while.” And that was one way to describe their marriage, so long ago.

He frowned at her and picked up an apple, tossing it back and forth between his hands. “What do you mean you traveled together?”

“I mean we got on the same train, and shared cabs in Hong Kong.”

Was she being too specific? Maybe it didn’t matter. If Thor was half as talented as she was starting to think he was, he’d pick the details from Marcus’s mind the minute he started asking questions. For all she knew he was listening in on her right now. She paused in the act of dropping the last strawberry into her bag to listen to that part of her mind where she had felt him last night, but she had no real way of knowing if that meant he was listening or just open to her. She shook her head again, annoyed with herself and her preoccupation.

“Why?” she asked.

“He just seems awfully interested for someone you barely know, that’s all.”

She crossed to the beverage dispenser and Marcus followed. She was going to need coffee to get through today with only one hour of sleep. Especially for this first class. American history had never exactly thrilled her. Maybe because she had spent a good portion of it in a mental ward.

“I think he got to know me pretty well.”

“How well is pretty well?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” She watched her mug fill and tried not to be irritated by his jealousy. This would have been an easier conversation to have if she’d gotten enough sleep. “Well enough that we’re friends. That we’re planning on getting to know one another better.”

“He sounded like you had been more than friends, Anna.”

She felt her face flush, and pressed her lips together, concentrating a little bit too intently on getting the lid on her mug and trying not to remember when he had kissed her, two hundred years ago.

“Hey, I’ve gotta run to class. I’m going to be late.” She grabbed the mug and her berries and forced herself to smile. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure. Lunch?” he called after her.

She was far enough away that she thought she could get away with pretending she hadn’t heard. The last thing she wanted was to endure the second half of this conversation over a meal.

And of course it doesn't help the reader sympathize when our leading lady finds him kind of obnoxious. But I don't particularly blame Eve for that. Especially not in this draft. (If I recall correctly, my editor didn't really love Marcus at this point either.) The dynamics in this draft were a little bit different all around though (Fate Forgotten had a slightly different ending, too). Eve was still in love with Adam, waiting for him to find her again, and taking any excuse she could find to travel, looking for him. So not only was she not interested in what Marcus might have been offering, but Thor was an unwanted distraction as well -- bringing confusion to her otherwise well-ordered world.

Naturally Thor doesn't particularly care for Marcus either, as we see in this not particularly well-written scene, after Eve and Thor return from a trip to Asgard:

“Anna?”

Ah. The boy. Thor stroked her cheek, and wondered if kissing her would be too bold. It would get the point across to her friend though. Quite effectively.

She looked away. “Hi, Marc.”

 “What are you wearing?” Marcus asked, taking in her appearance, and the oversized cloak. Then Thor, belatedly. “Oh, it’s you.”

Thor resisted the urge to growl and straightened, dropping his hand from Eve’s face. He cleared his throat and nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to express any kind of joy at seeing Marcus again. It wasn’t that he had any malice for the boy, just that he didn’t understand how he could be so oblivious to Eve’s discomfort. To her disinterest. He almost frowned. Maybe he understood too well, after all. Knowing her, loving her, it was difficult to give up hope that she would return that love. But he hoped she did not see him as she saw Marcus, all the same.

Eve tugged the cloak into place again. “I was cold.”

“I couldn’t find you for lunch,” Marcus said.

“She was with me.” Thor smiled. “Sorry about that. We were just catching up.”

“Oh,” Marcus said again, glancing in his direction. He seemed to think better of glaring, and looked back at Eve. “Well, I’m about to go get some dinner, if you’re interested.” He didn’t look at Thor as he spoke, and it was clear that the invitation was for Eve alone.

“We were just thinking of going, too,” she said, raising her eyes to Thor. Please?

When Marcus glanced at him, he nodded. “I’m afraid I didn’t feed her this afternoon.”

“You got her to miss lunch?” Marcus sounded surprised. Then frowned. “You skipped lunch with this guy?”

She turned pink and dropped her eyes. “I’ve just got to run back up to my room quickly and grab something. Do you mind waiting?”

“Not at all,” Thor said. Truthfully he wasn’t sure he wanted to be left alone with Marcus, but he smiled at her anyway. Go ahead.

She didn’t wait for Marcus to agree before ducking into the building. He could see her as she sprinted up the stairs, narrowly managing to avoid tripping on the cloak.

Marcus was watching her too, and he shook his head. “What is that, a blanket?”

“Something like that. It was all I could find to keep her warm at the time.” He followed her aura as she slipped out of sight, moving up another staircase, slower now.

“Where were you guys?”

He looked away from the building and studied the boy. Marcus reminded him slightly of Garrit when he had been younger. Before he had met and married Eve. But he was fairer, with blue eyes, and lacked the character of the DeLeon line. And the maturity.

“I brought her home with me. To show her where I lived.”

“And you didn’t feed her?” But then the skin around his eyes tightened and his lips thinned.

Thor hid a smile by rubbing his face. Marcus had already jumped to his own conclusion about how they had spent the afternoon. And exactly how she had been distracted from her lunch.

Marcus sighed and looked back at the building, shaking his head again. “You’d just better treat her right, Thor. Whatever it is you think you’re doing. She deserves to be treated right.”

“Yes.” He was glad that they could agree at least on that point. Maybe Marcus wasn’t as ridiculous as he had thought. “She absolutely does.”

“Well, whatever. I’d threaten to beat you up if you don’t, but you’re kind of big, and I don’t think you’ll take me seriously. But I promise you, man, I will find a way to do you injury, even if I have to round up four other guys to make it happen. And you will regret it.”

Thor clapped him on the shoulder, perhaps a little bit harder than he needed to, because Marcus stumbled under the weight of it. He heard Marcus revise his estimate of four other men to six, mentally. Thor could respect him for making the threat, even if it would be suicide to carry out.

“If I have it my way, Marcus, you’ll never have to go through the trouble.”

Marcus frowned. “I’m not sure I like that any better.”

Eve came out then. Cloakless, and her hair pulled into an unruly pile on the top of her head. She looked lovely with curls. Even if they seemed to frustrate her. She blushed again when she saw him looking at her, and smiled at Marcus. “Are you ready?”

The boy shook his head. “You two go ahead. I actually think I should eat in my room and get a start on my reading. You know how it is. Skip one night and it all spirals out of control.”

“You’re sure?”

Thor almost laughed. For a moment she was just as anxious not to be alone with him as she had been about dinner alone with Marcus. Poor Marcus. She really didn’t know what she wanted, did she? Or maybe she just knew too well.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Go on. Have fun. But you owe me a lunch tomorrow, all right?”

“Lunch tomorrow. Absolutely.” She leaned up to kiss Marcus’s cheek, and then took Thor’s hand and started pulling him in the direction of the dining center. “Good night, Marc.”

Marcus touched his cheek where she had kissed him, almost absently. “Good night, Anna.”

Poor Marcus the Jealous Shoe. Even when he got more page time he still wasn't going to win any hearts. But in this draft of his (and Eve's) story, Thor still is forced to leave and Marcus is still sent by Elah to comfort Eve -- if less explicitly set to the task -- and ultimately, Eve and Marcus live together until Adam's arrival, which prompts Thor's return as well. Marcus is pretty peeved about that, too. But who can blame him? (It isn't really a good look for Eve, either.)

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on? What all of this is about? Your so-called brother? Thor showing up out of nowhere?”

She sat down at the table and served him a slice of pizza. “It’s a little bit complicated, Marc. All of this. And I’m not sure if I can explain it all.”

He was still staring at her. Watching her. And he hadn’t sat down. “When did you marry him?”

“The night before he left.” That much at least she didn’t have to lie about. “You have to understand that he didn’t want to go. He never would have left at all if he had known about Lars.”

“Lars.” Marcus pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “Of course. Lars is his son. That’s why you wouldn’t let me offer you a paternity contract.” His eyes didn’t seem focused on her anymore. “Did you know he was coming back? All this time?”

“No.” She reached for his hand, covering it on the table. “No, Marc. I swear I didn’t know. If I had thought it was at all possible, I never would’ve done this. I wouldn’t have ever put you in this position.”

“So, he wants Lars then? Is he moving into town?”

She bit her lip, and he blinked, then looked at her again. She didn’t want to say the words. Didn’t want to tell him he was going to lose them both. He must have seen something in her face though, because he pulled his hand free from hers.

“You’re still in love with him.” It wasn’t a question, but she felt his hope that she would deny it. “He means to have you both.”

“I want Lars to have his father,” she said slowly. Trying to find a way around rejecting him utterly. Trying to find a way to keep from hurting him as deeply. “To have a proper family. I think he deserves that opportunity. That chance.”

“What happens if he disappears again, Anna? For another four years? How can you think this is a good idea?”

“He won’t leave Lars.”

He stared at her in silence. Just stared. “So. That’s it?”

“I’m so sorry, Marcus.”

He looked away, his face empty. “I guess I’ll go stay with my parents for the weekend. You can do what you need to do.” He pushed his plate away and stood up. “I’m not hungry after all.”

But he stopped and looked back at her, and for the first time she saw his pain clearly in his face, in his eyes. Guilt tightened in a fist around her heart. But she hadn’t made Marcus any promises. And lying to him now – she couldn’t do it. Not to Lars. Not to herself. Adam had been so right, and she’d been denying it for so long, now, trying to force herself back into a life that no longer fit. She couldn’t live this way. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life, her lives, living a lie, pretending to be something she wasn’t.

“You know, I never would have thought this was the reason you didn’t want to get married,” he said. “I always figured you were just trying to spare me the responsibility. Never in a million years would I have thought it was so you could pick up and go whenever he showed back up again.”

It made her feel sick. That he would think her so disloyal. And it hadn’t been her motivation. Not then. She had wanted to love him, really love him. “Marc—”

“Don’t, Anna.” He shook his head again. “Don’t explain. I’ve heard enough.” He stared out the window for a moment, and she felt a shaft of his anger, his hurt, cut through her. The window which looked out on Lars, playing with his father.

Marcus left the kitchen, heading toward the front of the house.

So that's Marcus Mark II -- we've got one more round to go with some BEYOND FATE scenes to illustrate a little of his growth. But you can see for yourself that just giving a character more lines/screen time does not actually mean his characterization is improved. In this Draft, Marc is clearly still a one note wonder. (Sorry, buddy!) BUT. I was starting to definitely get more of a feel for the threads that tied things all together, as far as his relationship to Eve went. And I was still figuring out where to show instead of tell -- and how to show what I wanted to show, too. 

Part III

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2015's Goals -- Wrapping up.

Well.
My year got a little turned upside down in the middle, and my priorities had to shift to accommodate, but here's a look back on my goals and what I actually DID accomplish from the list!

New Words, New Manuscripts:

• Another Bronze Age historical (which I will leave vague for the moment though I do know exactly what I'm writing and I'm looking forward to diving in!)
• Orc Saga 3
• Finish my PNR novella featuring Ullr, Thor's stepson (it's about 2/3rds done)
• Finish my Fate of the Gods novella featuring Ra and Athena (it's about... 1/4th done. maybe.)
• Finish Marcus's story, whatever that turns out to be (another Fate of the Gods potential novella)
• And if I can finish all that, then I'll work on the next Bronze Age historical, which may or may not have to do with Theseus and Antiope. We'll see!

Editing/Revising/Releasing:

• Orc Saga 2 needs a round of revisions -- though the cover art is well on its way, and I am super stoked to share it.
• Hippodamia and Pirithous aka TAMER OF HORSES, the bronze age historical I wrapped up in 2014 as part of NaNoWriMo will need some revisions, too.
• And of course, HELEN OF SPARTA is hitting shelves!
• I'm tentatively hoping to release BLOOD OF THE QUEEN (Orc Saga: Book Two) in the fall/winter!
• And an Audiobook of FORGED BY FATE is coming!

On the New Words/New Manuscripts side, I met with a couple of challenges.

• One: I had to rewrite the second half of Helen2, which was my first (unnamed) project. So I wrote it, wrapped it by May, then needed to go back and rewrite/add-on the last 50K words or so. It was unexpected, for sure, but definitely for the best, and I'm really pleased with the end result, even if it wasn't what I had initially planned.
  
• Two: I needed to come up with a brand new project that I was not at all expecting. Sometimes the market turns, and I kind of had to scramble. But I found my new project, ultimately, and I'm excited to be writing it (and also omg want to be done writing it so much!) AND this meant bumping Orc3 to next year's docket, because deadlines. It also meant that I wrote no shorter fiction at all this year. Though I *did* start a contemporary romance, for funsies, as a much needed break after Helen2 which also kind of came out of nowhere.
  
• Three: the floors. In January, I don't think I ever could have anticipated the flooring project of doom. It left us -- quite unsettled for some time. (We're only just starting to unpack our books NOW, for some context.) 

All that said and put aside, I am happy to report that I wrote over 221,000 words in 2015. (151,000+ of those words were Helen2, which did not all end up in the final product, of course, but that manuscript was a very significant portion of my year!) That averages out to about 22K a month for the 10 months I was actively writing (never without interruption, sadly). I'd like to do better next year, I think, and bump that average up to at least 30K, but I feel pretty good about this year's output, all the same, particularly when taking into account all the editing and production work I did alongside it. 

Which brings us to the Editing/Revising/Releasing section, where I accomplished everything that I'd expected to need to do, with a successful release of HELEN OF SPARTA and BLOOD OF THE QUEEN. I'm nearly through the edit process for BY HELEN'S HAND as well, for her release next year! I've got two more projects in production, too -- one of which is the aforementioned new project that I had to scramble to find for myself, and the second is too up in the air for me to say anything more about at the moment. But hopefully there will be more to tell, soon!

All in all, I think it was a solid year. And before the month is out, I'll have a post for this year's goals, too!

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Notes from the (re)Writing Cave, and an Orc Saga Teaser

I'm back in the saddle, going through my manuscript for some extensive reworking and rewriting -- I've already cut 13,500 words or so and added back in about the same amount, and I'll be rewriting the last 100 pages more or less entirely. These next two months are going to be a whirlwind of writing, rewriting and revising, punctuated by my trip to Denver for the HNS conference, which means it's time for the annual summer hiatus!

Fear not loyal friends and followers -- with any luck, I'll be back mid-August, and I'm tentatively planning for a new game of #NAMEthatBUTT in the fall, (assuming I can relocate the lost butts required!)

Enjoy your summer festivities and be sure to check back in when I return, because I'm hoping with fingers crossed times a million to maybe possibly hopefully perchance have some authory news, for all you wonderful readers and fans who have been waiting oh-so-patiently for me to talk about what might actually be coming next in some kind of firm manner. (Oh, Publishing!)

In the meantime I'll leave you with this small teaser of Orc Saga: Book Two, because I can't make any promises at all quite yet --

“What are you?” Ragnar demanded.

Bolvarr forced himself to relax, forced his limbs to assume more of a lounge against the stone at his back, than the miserable crouch he’d suffered since moonset. “What do I look like?”

Ragnar grunted, pacing slowly around him, as if to get a better look. “Seithr, by the marks on your face, but you’re strange even for their kind. And everyone knows no Seithr woman would teach a man her arts.”

“Maybe my mother made an exception.” Bolvarr shrugged, causing the chains to clank together. He had no idea what the Seithr were, but he could only assume they were witches of some kind.

“That green skin is something else. You’re too pretty to be orc or dragonkin, so I suppose you’ll tell me it was the work of some potion.”

“Not at all,” Bolvarr said, pretending boredom.

“Well?”

“Cursed.” He tipped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Men or elves, it always came back to the shade of his skin. The imperfections of his form. He was the closest the Hrimthursar had come to redemption, and it wasn’t anything near good enough. How he’d believed for a moment they’d think him human in the dark was a question that was likely to mock him until the end of his days. Which, it turned out, might well end up being far sooner than he’d anticipated. “By the Ancestors.”

Ragnar snorted. “Cursed or not, you’ll make a fine gift for the king. And if the Ancestors smite him for holding you, all the better.”

“And why’s that?” Bolvarr asked, lifting one eyelid to watch him make his way back to the door. A handspan thick, and reinforced with iron bands, not that he could reach it, chained as he was.

“Because he’s standing in my way.” And then the door swung shut with a thump, taking the torchlight and Ragnar with it.

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