Twi-lit.

I pick on Stephenie Meyer a lot in my private life. It's mostly just jealousy because she has had such huge success selling such blatant mediocrity. Most writers who bitch and moan about her books are probably feeling the same way. They're pissed. I've been reading her books this holiday season as a sort of 'research' project, and I am annoyed at how I am compelled forward to read what is inherently predictable and utterly absurd.

I have to face it... for a pre-teen, these books are f**king brilliant. I had to suck it up and admit that yesterday, when I bought yet the next installment to read. Like most romance novels, the premise is simple... but girl A with boy B, give them lots of passionate feelings and then drag out the 'union' for as long as possible, and present it with as many challenges (contrived or not) that you can throw in to make it interesting.

He's a vamp. 'I'm too dangerous for you, young lady yet I cannot stay away' boy. She's 'special'... ordinary but not... something the simpering teenaged girl readers can relate to but with something exceptional that makes her attractive to this extraordinary piece of moody, broody, angsty and sparkling perfection that is the boy. It is excruciatingly trite, the whole thing... the vampire family, the teen-yearning, the angst, the never-ending and very contrived discussions about why this could or could not work... the hapless and clueless and wolfy second-runner-up... a few random crises to give the book some measure of momentum, and the heroine needing constant rescue. It's barfworthy. It's perfection.

Stephenie's writing style is simplistic but with just the right amount of sophistication (she must have a fabulous editor) that it draws the reader in; even cantankerous, jealous indie authors like me, who can only dream of that kind of readership for their work. Add in the enigmatic titles, the pretty covers... you've got a decent product... I cannot deny that this is really a brilliant scheme.

I have to say though, I watched the twilight movie the other day in 12 parts on youtube, and I found the movie to be a bit better put together than the book. Namely because the book concentrates mostly on Bella and Edward's angsty and passionate interchanges for the duration, and the murderous vamps just sort of randomly appear as if action is an afterthought... but in the movie, they are hinted at from the beginning, and made to let you believe that the murdering vamps could possibly be Edward or his family. Despite the movie sucking pretty badly, it at least got that right.

The whole vampires playing baseball thing had me in stitches, I admit. Okay, the whole thing had me in stitches... this is no Austen, that is for sure... It's pulp as much as my stuff is pulp... but I'm still reading it, and still buying her goddamn e-books... so that says a lot.

Next up... The Harry Potter series. A girl's gotta know. ;)

How did you start writing?

I can recall the time when I realized I loved to write. Reading was already something I relished, and from a very early age I was an avid bookworm. I used to LOVE the sound of hardbacks and I loved the smell of the paper. I know this sounds weird, but I remember in the first grade, I checked out the Ramona series from the library, and I remember loving how the thick, hard-backed books thumped when I tapped them, and I remember laying the open book over my face and taking deep breaths of that papery scent. Yeah, I know. I was a weird kid.

I was voracious reader too—I gobbled up the Ramona books, and then attacked most of the Beverly Cleary books, then pretty much anything else that sounded nice when I tapped the cover, and then moved onto the Xanth series by Piers Anthony and continued reading those all the way through to middle and high-school. I wasn’t a huge Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys fan—but when lacking anything else to read, I partook grudgingly.
I discovered Jean Auel’s books at a young age (I know… I was perplexed by those questionable scenes, I confess, but I did LOVE the narratives on Ayla’s medicine training, and her collecting and use of natural plants and such). I loved the Neverending Story… and adored how each chapter was in a distinguishing colour based on if you were in the present or in the fantasy world, and the first chapter starts with a word starting in A, and then each subsequent chapter follows the alphabet. I was dismayed to discover that the movie only depicts half the book!

I read books that were required reading for older kids & such; Where the Red Fern Grows; To Kill a Mockingbird, JRR Tolkein of course, The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde; Of Mice and Men, The Handmaid’s Tale, 1984 and Animal Farm, Wuthering Heights, Watership Down, Pretty much everything Brontë and all things Austen, Moby Dick and whatever else I could get my paws on. I remember a couple of times in middle school, skipping classes and hiding out in the back corner of the library, reading entire books in one day.

I started writing stories in earnest in the fifth grade. Before that it was mostly scribblings and poems and such. What prompted the storyteller in me for sure was my fifth grade teacher, Ms. Wendy Pamay. I think pretty every one of us can say that there was that *one* teacher or professor who had a profound effect on you during your formative years… Wendy Pamay and Mr. Paul Francis were my inspiration when I was young. I wasn’t necessarily a great student; I had a rough childhood and it reflected on my participation and attendance pretty badly. Ms. Pamay was the one who taught me that writing could be that escape, that place where I could express myself without reserve. She was a wonderful teacher… I credit her with so many of my present day skills and interests. She treasured creativity and reading—and found really amazing ways to teach us things—she was genius. That is why she is part of the dedication of my first published book.

It took a long time for me to develop my voice. Much through my teens and early twenties, what I wrote was very much influenced by what I was reading. I finished my first book at 23; and it was horrible. I was horrified to discover a television show that appeared after completing that book that depicted a character almost identical to mine, so I scrapped the project. I wrote another science-fiction book that was also equally as terrible. But every word, every paragraph helped me develop my style and find who I was as an author. I think I also took a while to figure out how to put myself in my writing instead of just writing to tell a story or emulate a style I liked at the time. It made my characters more authentic and likeable, I think.

I write when it comes to me. I have, no joke, at least 200 false-start stories, some only a couple of paragraphs, some as many as seventy or eighty pages; all of which skidded to a creative halt somewhere along the line. Finishing a book is hard, and a rare event for me. I’m not disciplined enough to make myself write or to create outlines, I’m afraid. I prefer organic processes; it makes stories less predictable.

Tinna’s Promise is a strange book… I know it is. But what I do know is that it is reviewing wonderfully… and that I have a viable voice as a writer. It took years to develop it, but it’s there. I’m hoping Tinna’s Might will have that same draw that keeps the reader engaged as the first book has. We’re still editing. I’ve had to do A LOT of moving stuff around and revisions; I tried too hard to fill readers in on the background from the first book; it’s a lot of work. I’m hoping to have it polished and tied up by end of year, but I’m not sure… we shall see!