WIP's Burying Me.

I've been waaaay down on blogging lately, both on here and in my voluntary job of book reviewing. And it's honestly because I've got other words coming out of every crevice in my mind, finding their way through my fingers to be written. I wanted to talk about why and how I write, a little, if you'll humour me long enough.

Right now, I'm sort-of working on two manuscripts (honestly, my future agent is going to LOVE me, I swear. I do so much more than required at this point). One is a fantasy YA about a young king who rules over a a small isle of music and joy, except it's all gone grey and empty, so he holds a competition for ten architects and designers from all over the world (think Sydney Opera House history) to build the best theatre house and get his kingdom excited about art again. The other is a contemporary YA where two girls find solace despite grief and bad health, and when one starts to see the light, the other falls into a pit of darkness. They both inspire and let each other down, but fight back in the end.

I say I'm a fantasy writer, and that contemporary is a luxury. But it's the other way around, in terms of luxury. When I write contemporary stories, it's always something that means something to me. It's always real, and raw, and 80% of it is based off personal experiences/mindsets/decisions/relations. I only write contemporary stories when I'm struggling in life and I need to face those struggles. Fantasy stories... Now, they're the true luxury. They catch me when I tumble away from struggles, when I want to gloss over them and get on with my ignorance. They're mingled with truth and real-life issues but they're never so close to me that they're too raw to write sometimes, or make me too full of the story itself. I adore writing fantasy because I love going wild with my own writing ability, as well as finding out what my characters could do if they dig hard enough in their souls.

Why I write is a weird question. I talk so much garbage in my daily life. When I write, it's all calculated (mostly) and it's more influential. I'd much rather be remembered for my books than my speech. In life, I think there are Talkers and there are Writers. I'm a Writer, in every sense. My written word is much better than my spoken. I write because I can't express in spoken words what goes on in my head. I flounder and wave my arms helplessly; I write because I want people to look past all that rubbish and see what I can actually do given time and thought with words. I want to be heard when I'm not very often.

I write to vent. Several days ago, when I had been having a rough time and been putting pressure on a friend, I wrote a two-page story-like thing where I wrote, in character form, how I felt and sent it to my friend because it was the only way I could explain myself. It was my explanation and apology.

I write to explore. I'm not a traveler at heart, yet desperately hope I grow into one. But I read vastly and research even more. I write out worlds that I'll never visit and people types I'll never meet but would love to. I've never really kept friends, never had that particular skill, but I write to have my own brand of company, as goddamn sad as that sounds. Other writers, you may agree?

Most people laugh when I say "I'm writing my ninth manuscript" and tell me that one day, if I manage to polish them all up and publish, I'll be extremely rich. I've never been in it for the hopes of fortune. Fame, a little, but only for the factor of knowing my words and books have reached people and I can see that expression.

With each WIP I work on and exclaim excitedly to Dayna, I discover a little more about who I am as a writer. I once got told my writing style wasn't great, my dialogue was a little forced, and never really drew people in. Now, after building on that, my style is what gets complimented the most. When I had those initial comments, I was writing from force, really, so perhaps that reflected. I wasn't writing what truly sang to me. I was writing too much of what I knew, too close to me, and too personal. They weren't stories I could felt I could free my skill in. But now... Nine manuscripts on, and I'm realising what I want to be known for. I am realising that I am actually pretty decent, and I create good premises, and can work on them to make the premise sound good in context.

RACING BEATS, my current contemporary WIP, is something that combines a lot of things I love and I can put a little magical realism into it, which makes me incredibly happy. It's made me realise how honest my stories can be when I write from my heart, not just my mind. The fantasy WIP is based on my love of music and celebrating art, with hopefully good world-building, an element I know I need to improve vastly.

I usually have this theory that anything newer in my MANUSCRIPTS folder is better. But perhaps not. Even old ornaments once loved only need a dusting sometimes to shine brighter. *gloss over cheesy quote*

IF BIRDS FLY BACK Mini Review

I say that a lot of books are beautiful, but not like this. IF BIRDS FLY BACK is the most beautiful book I've ever had the pleasure of reading. After waiting a looong time to read this, it was completely worth the wait.

IF BIRDS FLY BACK is that book that you just want to devour whole and be so filled with it's words and ethereal nature in complete reality. It follows film-buff Linny, a girl who lost her sister by unknown means, and physics-obsessed Sebastian, a boy who wants to know his father. The two become connected by Alvero Herrera, a writer who went missing for three years prior to the book's beginning. Linny's idea is that if she figures out why he went missing then she'll know the connection as to where her sister had gone. Sebastian knowing Alvero is a massive piece of his life that's been missing.

Together, they volunteer at Silver Springs, a retirement home in Miami, Florida, where Alvero leads them on wild goose chases and gives them the best advice they could ever hear in particular situations, always disguised. In Linny's chapters, readers get scenes from her script: "The Left-Behinds," a film she's writing for herself and for her absent sister. In a lot of ways, I related to both Linny and Sebastian and I think that's what made me connect with this book.

For me, this book spoke to me on a personal level but that wasn't what made it beautiful. It was beautiful for the escape Sebastian and Linny found in each other, for the freedom and boldness that they each encouraged in the other. Carlie Sorosiak is a stunningly crafty writer, both in her casual,  slang dialogue and then she executes the beautiful parts without a reader feeling "this is too much of a 180 from the other tone" because I've thought that sometimes with other books. But not this book. IF BIRDS FLY BACK, from cover to cover, is a ride, full of discovery, risks, film references, good taste and bittersweet tones that make you want to read it all again and realise all the things you missed the first time.

2018 is Here!

I'm never really one for making a great deal of New Years'. Sure, I celebrate it in some quiet, comfortable way, but I don't really wish anyone a "Happy New Year" unless they make a thing of it. Yesterday, I rang in the new year with my mum's friends, watched Kingsman for the first time, switched over for the fireworks on BBC1 for like a second, hugged the other three people in the room, then sat right back down and finished watching the film.

So, a pretty quiet evening/night. New Year and Christmas are probably the only times I am ever free of comparing myself and my life to other people. I don't really care for this time of year, so I revel in the smaller nature of how my family spend it. For once, I'm not jealous of those friends of mine who party way too hard for me to comprehend or have loads of family around them.

BUT, 2017 was just god-awful. Usually there have been parts of a year that have been bad for me but never a full year. This year, I was happy to see this rubbish year go, and welcomed 2018. Maybe nothing will change; maybe everything will. I have a permanent job now, just catching that in the tail-end of the last month to improve the year, and I adore it so much.

I have less materialistic goals for 2018. I want to expect less from people; I want to reign in my bad feelings so they evaporate instead of fester and erupt; I want to return to Waterstones at least once in my city; I want to be stronger and conquer myself. I cared a little too much in 2017 and I fell behind. I became a bad, needy, demanding friend, a distant family member, and just everything I didn't even recognise in myself. I want to fix myself this year, undo the damage 2017 wrought upon me.

To kick off my lists, here is a definite list of books I want to read in 2018 that are published this year:

Hero at the Fall, Alwyn Hamilton
A Court of Frost and Starlight, Sarah J. Maas
Legend, Stephanie Garber
Flame in the Mist, Renee Ahdieh
(Whatever new book Katherine Webber brings out because I am thirsting for her writing so much)
Goodbye, Perfect, Sara Barnard
These Rebel Waves, Sara Raasch
THE SEVENTH THRONE OF GLASS BOOK.

Aaaand, my current TBR pile stands as such:

The Star-Touched Queen, Roshani Chokshi
If Birds Fly Back, Carlie Sorosiak (BIG MOOD)
Alex, Approximately, Jenn Bennett
Letters to the Lost, Brigid Kemmerer
The Start of me and You, Emery Lord
Truthwitch, Susan Dennard
One Dark Throne, Kendare Blake
And I Darken, Kiersten White
Wintersong, S. Jae-Jones
Cruel Beauty, Rosamund Hodge
Lady Midnight, Cassandra Clare
Posion Study, Maria V. Snyder
Vendetta, Catherine Doyle
Stealing Snow, Danielle Paige

SO, I have a busy reading year already! On top of that, I want to write and write and write, and work, and find myself again, so bring it on, 2018.