Writing Rewind #13: Wings of Fate Chapter 8 Part 2

*I will only be making Friday posts for the month of December. Regular Monday and Friday posting will resume in January.*

WOW, it’s been a while since my last post. Not because I’ve been avoiding it this time, but because I’ve been swamped with work and other things, but now I’m ready to re-embark on the S.S. Cringe-fest and wrap up chapter 8 of this travesty.

Last time on the UNMEI, Matthias was being a robot to everyone, per usual, though slightly more jerk-ish than usual. And we’re going to find out why! What is it about the “hated day” that makes Matthias behave in such a way? Well, strap yourselves in… it’s going to be quite a ride, with a lamentable romance on the horizon.

KEY/GUIDE:
Strikethrough = cut out
Highlight = rephrase/reword/awk
Blue highlight = minor additions
DANGER RED HIGHLIGHT= massive cringe
Green highlight – switch/move

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This first selection is a nice warm up. Minna and Tango chatting about the General and his prickly behavior, and there’s a mysterious gift involved… though with more detail and description than is needed. So how are we going to fix that? *unscrews highlighter cap*

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Trim and chop, trim a chop… it’s becoming quite a theme. Altogether, though, this passage is not totally horrendous. No, no… that is yet to come, don’t fret.

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The superfluous bits have been shaved away, and the meat of the story remains. The dialogue tends to get repetitive because I like to make absolutely sure my message gets across, but I’ve come to realize the reader can put the pieces together without me beating them over the head with it.

Next up, their conversation strays to a different officer… one who is not so cold.

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And there we have it. Tango, for as of yet unknown reasons, has feelings for Matthias. And though this piece is riddled with grammatical errors, this is a glaring issue with the plot/content. I was 1000000% on-board for this pairing when I wrote this story a decade ago, but now, I see it for what it is, which will become clear in upcoming chapters.

But first, we have to fix some of the grammar and syntax.

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The eye references continue. And they shall be eliminated.

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Oh, what messy romantic entanglements we will have to navigate in upcoming chapters? The seeds have been planted, but will they sprout into weeds, or flowers? *clears throat* ANYWAY,  with some of the fluff cut out, this portion flows better and the conversation gets wrapped up sooner. So, let’s move on…

Cut to, UNMEI exterior deck, with our favorite frigid general and perky brunette major, as Matthias begins to reflect on his life and his relationships…

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*eye twitch* THIS NEEDS TO BE SLIMMED DOWN, PRONTO. Now we know a bit of Matthias’s history with his father and his turmoil about Tango, but it’s still too much. WAY too much.

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Whoo, boy. This may even take a bit more chopping once the sentences are restructured a bit. I can probably cut this portion in half and not lose anything of real substance.

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AHHHHHHHHHHHHH, so much better. BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!

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Of course, it’s his birthday. Don’t think I hinted at it nearly enough, to be honest.

Content-wise… I actually don’t think this part is that bad. I mean, the conflict between them in this chapter isn’t the main issue I have with their relationship. No, that will become clearer later on, don’t you worry. But this passage still suffers from the usual issues, which need to be addressed.

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Lots to trim, lots to axe, lots to rework. AND THAT EYE REFERENCE MUST BURN, AND DIE.

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There; a bit better, and not so bogged down with description and clunky phrases.

Now… this was going to be the last segment. But I feel like I need to address something else, because reading it back, ten years after I wrote it, I’ve realized that I had some… erroneous view points on romance. So, here is the gift that Tango got for Matthias…

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WHAT THE ACTUAL F*CK. She made him a scrapbook about his life. THAT IS SO STALKERY!!! They aren’t even dating, and he’s almost twice her age! She needs to CHILL. That is not romance, it’s creepy. End of story.

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The entire segment needs to go. It makes Tango look obsessed more than anything else, and that’s not okay, and it is not a positive attribute.

Her feelings for Matthias aren’t invalid or anything, but the way she expressed them is way too intense for someone she isn’t even dating, and that kind of behavior should not be projected in a positive light. I have actually experienced something similar in my life (as in, someone gave me an overly-intimate gift) and it was not okay to the point where it profoundly altered the way I behave around men in both a friendly and potentially-interested dynamic. So, maybe that experience is coloring my perception of Tango’s behavior, but I truly believe it is unhealthy and I 10000% don’t want to convey the message that acting like this is okay, so I’m changing it now.

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So, she got him a sweater instead. So. Much. Better. It has Tango’s humor, still seems heartfelt and personal without being too intense, and it’s definitely not stalkery. Sorry that I soapboxed for a minute there, but I think it’s important to show how my current mindset and the experiences I have had since I was fifteen have changed the way that I approach my writing, both past and present.

NEXT TIME, we have a power outage… which can only mean one thing! DRAMA!!! Not sure when it will go up, but in the next post, we will explore Chapter 9: The Blackout. Until then!

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If you’re in need of a new read, or want to get someone a book for the holidays, check out my YA novel, I’m With You! The ebook is only $1.99 or (£1.55) and paperback is $9.99 (£7.99) on Amazon Amazon UK.  Paperback is also $9.99 on BN.com.

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Worth 1000 Words #11: In the Bleak Midwinter

*I will only be making Friday posts for the month of December. Regular Monday and Friday posting will resume in January.*

Now that December has blustered into my neck of the woods, bringing cold winds, the scent of pine, and absolutely ridiculous inflatable holiday decorations adorning the yards of my neighbors, I have a confession to make: I don’t particularly enjoy the holidays. In fact, I recently purchased a shirt that truly reflects my feelings toward the holidays, which is reminiscent of everyone’s favorite reformed Christmas naysayer, Ebenezer Scrooge. It suits me wonderfully, I have to say.

img_20171120_143441_3441212692033.jpgI know, I know… disliking this time of the year is blasphemy. Everyone loves Christmas! Everyone loves cookies and bulky sweaters and watching snow fall with a steaming cup of cocoa! Everyone loves Christmas movies and carols and figgy pudding and whatever! But hear me out, because I think my aversion to the holiday season is valid.

Firstly, I don’t like gingerbread or eggnog, and peppermint is a case-by-case basis, with the typical outcome being “no thanks.” So, like, half of the seasonal lattes at Starbucks aren’t options for me, and that’s a major bummer. I also dislike snow (when I have to drive in it) and bitter cold, and though I do love a good bulky sweater, they tend to be quite itchy, and no one wants to be itchy all day, fashion be damned.

But, the main reason why I dislike the holiday season is that I work retail full-time. So, you can imagine how that is during the holidays. Last year I worked third shift for all of December and part of January, and it was a magical experience. I didn’t have to interact with people for 6 weeks. I didn’t have to care about my appearance for 6 weeks, I didn’t have to fake holiday cheer for 6 weeks. I could just do my work, listen to my own music, and carry on my own way without being bothered by last-minute shoppers who somehow think it’s my fault that we sold out of a particular item, even though we’ve had it in stock for weeks prior. I’m eternally grateful that I don’t work in the toy department, though. I work across the store, but I’m already sick of hearing about “fingerlings,” whatever those are, and last years “hatchimal” craze was even worse.

This year, I didn’t fare so well with my schedule, as I am on the early/day shift until the week leading up to Christmas – though I will say, in my 9 years of retail, I had my easiest Black Friday shift of all time a couple of weeks ago, so the holiday season didn’t kick off in a majorly disastrous fashion. I enjoy my job most of the time, but this time of year, it is far too easy to spiral into a jumbled mess of stress, irritation, the whole “too much work and not enough time” mentality, impatience, and indulging in too much candy to try and improve my mood, then feeling terrible and spending extra time at the gym to make up for it. It’s difficult to scrounge up enough scraps of “holiday cheer” to convince people that I’m jolly and not grappling with negativity and anxiety at a near constant basis. Hearing people complain about having to buy gifts for people, and seeing dejected relatives buy something that someone “probably won’t like anyway” is flat-out depressing. Enduring the same Christmas songs day in and day out is exhausting – we definitely don’t need to play 6 versions of “Blue Christmas,” but we do, and I hereby elect “Christmas Wrapping” by the Waitresses to be the worst holiday song of all time, with the exception of “I want an Alien for Christmas,” by Fountains of Wayne, which is outright wrong. All of these factors combine to make “Bah Humbug” my personal slogan from late November into January, and it takes me until the tail end of March to actually shake off the lingering doldrums. The actual day of Christmas is so blink-and-you-miss-it in the retail world, because even though we don’t have to work on the actual day, on the 26th, the dreaded returns begin. And nothing is more soul-killing and makes me lose faith in humanity more than listening to people complain about the gifts they’ve gotten, then scoff at the amount of credit they receive for returning the gifts they didn’t want.

But every year, there are little things that make up for the dour feeling of holiday blues. Last weekend, I attended a holiday party hosted by a coworker with some of my favorite folks from work and had an absolute blast, laughing and joking and playing games and eating delicious food. I love buying gifts for friends and family, and seeing their faces light up when they open them. I love Christmas cookies (of the non-gingerbread variety) and decorating the tree. I love going to the movies in the winter, because it’s “Oscar contender” time and the quality of films gracing the screens is top notch. However, if The Disaster Artist and The Shape of Water don’t make their way to my town, I will be devastated. I can’t wait to see The Last Jedi on Christmas Eve, as has become tradition in my family. My mom and I went to see The Man Who Invented Christmas after a particularly stressful day of work last week, and it really did help me get a bit more into the Christmas spirit.

This year, to survive the holidays, I’ve chosen to focus on all the things that make this time of year happy, and not the ones that diminish what the Christmas season is supposed to be about. I’ll cherish time with my family, enjoy the seasonal lattes that aren’t tainted by the foul taste of gingerbread, and not let the cold or the flurries get me down. My “bah, humbugs” might not officially turn into far more chipper, “Ho, ho ho’s,” but I will make an effort to enjoy the little things, and slough off stress whenever I can, so I will not be vanquished by the bleak midwinter.

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If you’re in need of a new read, or want to get someone a book for the holidays, check out my YA novel, I’m With You! The ebook is only $1.99 or (£1.55) and paperback is $9.99 (£7.99) on Amazon Amazon UK.  Paperback is also $9.99 on BN.com.

Do Trailers Ruin Movies?

Over the last few months, I have been actively avoiding any movie trailers or clips for the upcoming Star Wars: The Last Jedi, in an attempt to avoid spoilers. I won’t be seeing it until Christmas Eve, per family tradition, so I try to avoid as much info as possible until I finally get to view it on the big screen. That all blew out the window when I went to see Thor: Ragnarok and it was too inconvenient for me to leave the theater when a Star Wars trailer began, so I just sucked it up and allowed myself to be dazzled.

Though the trailer hinted at some things, made some allusions, and showed what are sure to be key moments, it didn’t reveal anything groundbreaking or show anything too spoilerific. It created intrigue without making anything too obvious, and made me all the more excited to see the film later this month. That is what a trailer should do; it should generate interest and lure audiences without blowing all the important info or all the humor in a 2 minute teaser. You shouldn’t be able to guess the entire plot of a film from a trailer, unless it’s a series you are already familiar with or you’ve read the book an upcoming movie is based on.

On the other hand, I recently saw the first trailer for the upcoming Downsizing, starring Matt Damon, and was instantly compelled to see it. The trailer presented a unique and interesting plot, showed some humor, and offered images and clips that made me wonder how characters got into a certain situation or what would happen next. And then the second trailer came along tacked onto Murder on the Orient Express, and it totally gives away what I perceived to be a pretty major plot point, which was not presented in the initial trailer. It dampened my enthusiasm a bit, as it allowed more pieces of the plot to fall into place, and chased away some of the allure. I’ll still see it when it comes out, but I was bummed to have something spoiled in the trailer that I wish I could have seen for the first time during the film itself. The same thing happened with the second Spider-Man: Homecoming trailer. Watching it, I felt like I could predict the entire movie, and I ended up being pretty close, though, thankfully, it was still a great film and I was not disappointed. Films can often fall into the trap of having too many trailers, as well, and I hold the belief that a film only needs 2 trailers max, and 1 will typically suffice. If I’m not drawn in by the first trailer, I probably won’t be swayed by another.

Trailers can be deceptive, as well – they can show a snapshot that is nothing like the completed picture, and effectively “trick” viewers, for the better or the worse. Trailers for Zack Snyder’s films are some of the best out there – I can still imagine just about every frame of the brilliant Watchmen trailer in my head, almost a decade later – but his films tend to have a polarizing reaction. Regardless, the trailers make you want to see his movies. 2012’s Brave offered a trailer that made the movie seem like it would follow a certain narrative, but it went off in a direction that my best friend and I totally didn’t see coming, and it was a pleasant surprise.

Trailers also make me not want to see movies, sometimes. I’m a big fan of the original Jumanji, and was skeptical of the remake/sequel, but when I saw the first trailer, I was tentatively hooked. There were some decent jokes and it looked like, if not a direct successor, a spiritual successor to the original. Since the first time I saw the trailer, I have  now seen it 5 or 6 times, and the second trailer 3 times. I’m kind of burned out on it, at this point, and I can probably quote the entire thing. “I’m an overweight middle-aged man!” “We’re in other people’s bodies!” “I’m missing the top two feet of my body!” Again, if the reviews are okay, I’ll probably still make the effort to see it, but I’m now worried that the funniest moments are all in the trailer, as is often the case. I’ve got The Greatest Showman, TLJ, and a few others to see before it, and it I must suffer through the trailer again, I might shelve my Jumanji plans until it’s available for streaming. Oversaturation can, unintentionally, kill the interest in a movie instead of building it up. I felt the same about last year’s lackluster Warcraft film. I saw the trailer every time I saw an IMAX film for months, and all it did was make me not want to see the movie. I actually did leave a theater after the Warcraft trailer began for what must have been the 10th time, and that remains the only time I have ever left a theater during the previews. I LOVE previews, but I hated that trailer, though Transformers: The Last Knight sure gave it a run for its money this past year. If I so much as see an Autobot onscreen, it is an insta-groan.

So that creates a question; do trailers ruin movies? After all, the big wigs behind a film’s production have no idea how many times you are going to be forced to see a trailer. They just want to put butts in seats. But they do have control over how much info goes into a trailer, and it’s a fine line; give too much away and risk scaring people off, or don’t offer up enough and fail to hook viewers. Avoid trailers, and you might fall behind on what movies are coming out, unless you monitor them religiously (as I do). I may love previews, and eagerly anticipate trailers for films and film series that I’m a fan of, but nothing ruins a movie for me like a trailer rife with spoilers.

 

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If you’re in need of a new read, check out my YA novel, I’m With You! The ebook is only $1.99 or (£1.55) and paperback is $9.99 (£7.99) on Amazon Amazon UK.  Paperback is also $9.99 on BN.com.

A Strange Thing to Fear

Fear is a common conversation topic this time of year, as decorated pumpkins take residence on porches and stoops, season lattes feature on every coffee shop menu, mainstream and hipster alike, and Freeform starts airing Hocus Pocus seventy times in a week.

Personally, I’ve got a couple of common fears. Spiders/insects. Open ocean. Mascots. The potential for an alien invasion. Clowns, for the most part. Talking on the phone. You know, the usual. One, however, might not be considered so… normal.

I just recently found out it has a name: kosmemophobia, the fear of jewelry. I’m reluctant to officially say I have this phobia, because I’ve never been formally diagnosed, but jewelry really does skeeve me out, to the point where it occasionally infringes on my life. I don’t want to touch jewelry, I don’t want it to touch me, I would prefer to be nowhere near it, and if I do have to touch it for whatever reason, I wash my hands numerous times afterward. Shaking hands with people who are wearing rings makes my skin crawl. Hugging people who have earrings on freaks me out. Just the word “earrings” makes me want to gag. I also don’t like little pieces of metal like paperclips, but that is far more manageable. My sister is getting married next year and I’ve already told her that, although I’m in the wedding party, I will not be wearing any jewelry.

This has been the case since I was a child, which is corroborated by my mother. I briefly had my ears pierced (thanks, peer pressure) and that was a traumatic experience I hope to never re-live. I will go the rest of my life without wearing any jewelry and I will be 100% a-okay with that. I lived a good portion of my life thinking that this fear is “weird” and I should grin and bear it for the sake of appearing “normal,” but now, I don’t really apologize for it. It’s not so extreme that I can’t handle it on a daily basis and I’m not really crippled by it, but I’m also not going to put myself in situations where I am massively uncomfortable just to keep up appearances. Honestly, I could have it a lot worse. I truly feel for the folks who have a strange fear who can’t function in certain situations or environments because of it.

I think people with uncommon phobias can at least take comfort in the fact that they are not alone, and someone somewhere out there likely endures the same type of spine-tingling apprehension they do toward the root of their fear. This time of year might be tough for some who fear the thought of Pennywise in the drains or Freddy Kruger in their dreams, but I have no fear of ghosts, goblins, or ghouls… unless they’ve got a necklace on.

Scary Neighbor Lady

A few years ago, the trick-or-treat night in my neighborhood fell on an evening in which my last college class for the day ended at 6:30 PM. I lived alone at the time, and, as bad as it makes me sound, I had no interest in participating in trick-or-treat. I usually just turn the lights off so the folks walking around with their kids will know not to ring the doorbell. But, since I’d forgotten that I would be pulling into my driveway right smack in the middle of the event, I feared that I would have to suffer through being pestered by eager children hankering for some sugar. Plus, I had no candy in the house, though I did have plenty of carrot sticks, which are not generally a hit with the youth.

Nevertheless, I heated up some microwaveable macaroni and cheese for dinner (I was the pinnacle of health in those days), set up camp in my kitchen, and started to pound out my homework for the night. My computer was located in my kitchen nook, which was, unfortunately, positioned right next to a window. Therefore, from the right angle, the passing groups of ravenous candy-seekers could likely see me sitting there. I was absolutely certain that my doorbell would ring at least a few times and I would either have to ignore it, or tell the poor little ghosts, witches, and Iron Men that I had nothing to give them.

I sat, ate my dinner, and worked on an essay about the movie I’d just seen in film class. Through the window, I could see the kids walking about, going door to door, their laughter and cheer muffled through the pane. Reveling in their Three Musketeers, Hershey Bars, Skittles, and my personal favorite, Bottle Caps. Yet, though I expected it, not a single child rang my doorbell.

My porch light was on (I used to turn it on before I left the house for late classes, and had done so out of habit earlier that day) and I was plainly visible through the kitchen window, eating mac n’cheese and typing away at my desktop, and still, no one rang my doorbell.

In an attempt to pinpoint the reason why the neighborhood folks would be avoiding my house, since I was a relatively reclusive neighbor and spoke only to the people who lived to the right of me and the family across the street (the family across the street were GREAT neighbors and gave me free firewood during Snowtober in ’11,) I remembered an instance where, after seeing some of the neighborhood kids playing in my yard without permission, I yelled at them out the window to, essentially, “Get off my lawn.” There was a sort of “drop-off” in the yard marked with stones that was all-too-easy to tumble off and cause injury, which I did not want to be held accountable for. I mean, I could have been nicer about it or chosen some gentler phrasing, but if you’re gonna get kids who aren’t related to you and who are blatantly ignoring your property line in the first place to listen to you, you gotta be firm. At my behest, they scattered like the soot sprites in My Neighbor Totoro, and I never had to yell at them again. 

I suppose, at that time, I did not realize the toll my reprimand would have on my neighborly reputation. On that chilly October night, as all of the trick-or-treaters avoided my stoop, I came to realize that I had, in the eyes of a humble New England neighborhood, become the Scary Neighbor Lady.

But, instead of lamenting this, I decided to embrace it. So what if I could strike fear into the hearts of children with one bellow of “GET OFF MY LAWN!”? I’d never actually harm a kid, so I figured I might as well embrace my new reputation and use it to my advantage instead of trying to change it.

Although I never had to yell at the neighborhood kids again, they did end up fooling around in my yard one more time that I can recall, only it was the front yard instead of the back. My car was in the garage at the time, so they likely thought I wasn’t home. There’s a stone-lined drop-off onto my driveway that, if a child had fallen off, could cause pretty serious injury, so I definitely didn’t want them playing out there unsupervised. But before I could open the window to say anything to them, I met the gaze of one of the kids through the windowpane, and saw his eyes go wide with terror. I sharpened my glare, and that was enough. He motioned to his comrades to flee, and they sprinted away from my house and down the street, to play in some other neighbors yard, I assume.

I’ve since moved away, and have no such reputation in my current residence, but I like to think I’ve become an urban legend at my old stomping grounds, and that on trick-or-treat nights, the neighborhood kids still refuse to stop at “Scary Neighbor Lady’s” house.

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If you’re in need of a new read, check out my YA novel, I’m With You! The ebook is only $1.99 or (£1.55) and paperback is $9.99 (£7.99) on Amazon Amazon UK.  Paperback is also $9.99 on BN.com.

Stress

Stress is my mortal enemy.

…Well, stress and woodpeckers, but the former occurs far more frequently than the latter.

I am always curious to know how others folks handle their stress, because I struggle with it and have yet to find a solution that sticks, especially now that I’ve more or less kicked my caffeine addiction (3 cups a day is my max, now) and can’t rely solely on coffee to soothe my nerves. I know coffee should have the reverse effect – for me, it’s more of a tranquilizer than a stimulant. It even makes me fall asleep.

I envy the “water off a duck’s back” kind of people, who don’t let negativity and pressure get to them – or, if it does, they are able to channel it in a productive manner or not show how badly it irks them. If I go into a day with a smile and good intentions, one stressful situation can throw me totally off-course. My fitbit often starts registering an accelerated heart-rate when my stress levels bubble up, and my natural expression is one of anger – I’m not even mad most of the time, but I assume it’s just my inner stress making itself known.

I guess those fidget spinner things that recently popped up are meant to help with that sort of thing; to assist with stress and anxiety. I tried it out, and let me tell you, it made me even more irritated. And when I see someone using one in public I feel the intense urge to slap it out of their hands. However, I used to carry a stress ball around in my purse and and it worked pretty well if I was on the go, especially while waiting in line at the grocery store or whenever I was forced to be in the presence of obnoxious children. Or adults. Recently, I’ve discovered shimmer pillows – and they are SO SOOTHING. I have no idea why or how it works, but I find them extremely calming.

Stress is a good thing sometimes, because it does, in a way, show dedication and perseverance. It shows that you care about doing a good job, or that you want a certain outcome and are bothered by the aspect of failure. But in large doses, it is a detriment – a productivity-killer. A blood-pressure raiser. Because in the throes of stress, it’s all to easy to plummet down the negativity slope and end up wallowing in a pit of frustration and despair, surrounded by “What ifs?” and worst-case scenarios.

I’ve been trying to make more of an effort to channel my stress and negativity into something productive or useful, and I’ve had some minimal success thus far. Stress often manifests itself into discouragement, for me – which, as a writer, is a total killer. But I’ve found that forcing myself to face my fears and confront the stress instead of hunkering down into a ball of blankets and waiting for it to pass, opening up a blank document and pounding out a free-write or some new chapters instead of throwing my hands up in failure, is the way to go. Stress is natural – I’ve faced the fact that I’ll never get rid of it entirely, because it’s just who I am. But I can learn to adapt and handle it better than I have in the past, and I’ve resolved to do just that.

And thus, I am curious – how do you handle stress?

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If you’re in need of a new read, check out my YA novel, I’m With You! The ebook is only $1.99 or (£1.55) and paperback is $9.99 (£7.99) on Amazon Amazon UK.  Paperback is also $9.99 on BN.com.

Writing Rewind #12: Wings of Fate Chapter 8 Part 1

I’ll straight up admit that I’ve been putting this next installment off on purpose, because it includes the storyline I’ve been dreading. The romance subplot. My reasons for hating it will become more prevalent next time, but this is the set up to it…

Now that I’m older, I’ve actually done a total 180 on my stance regarding the main “romance” of this story, so revisiting will be difficult because I basically want to erase the entire thing and pretend it never happened. But I’m going to do my best to dissect all the issues without imploding from the massive cringe-fest that is about to unfold.

Last time on Writing Rewind, we found out what the mysterious mission is all about! It involves a floating land in the sky that was definitely not influenced by Castle in the Sky from Hayao Miyazaki and Studio Ghibli, no way no how. What adventures are in store for us this time as we vault into Wings of Fate Chapter 8: The Hated Day?

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Oh boy. It’s a Matthias-centric chapter. Brace yourselves for the avalanche of “cold” and “icy” character descriptions!

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That entire first paragraph is an abomination and deserves to DIE. I cannot fathom why I felt I needed to describe Matthias in vivid detail EVERY SINGLE TIME HE’S MENTIONED. He’s basically the Tin Man meets Mr. Freeze meets Frosty the Snowman, WE GET IT, GOOD GOD.

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There. Short, sweet, mostly to the point. And not a “cold” descriptor to be seen…

Next, after Robin spills the beans about the mission and gets Heiwa and Daisuke in trouble with their commanding officers, they are out on the deck with Shirotaka when a little accident happens, and our favorite mute magical girl falls overboard…

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She can fly, she can fly, she can flyyyyyyy!!!!!! And this portion’s not too bad, but it’s got too much fluff.

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I’ve noticed that Past Allie certainly leans toward repetition, or saying things in a roundabout way that could be explained in a much shorter fashion. I’m verbose, basically. And it ain’t cute. And I think it is definitely the worst it’s been in this chapter.

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Wow, look at that! The same revelation with much fewer words! It flows a lot better this way, without all the excess.

Next, Heiwa takes Shirotaka up to Dr. Black to tell him about her ability…

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Why, oh why, does Dr. Black feel the need to pontificate so often? Might as well stamp “I’M A SECRET VILLAIN!” on his forehead.

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I think Dr. Black needs to keep it subtle. Not be so… forthcoming. Like, Heiwa asked one question and he goes off on a rant, and it’s not necessary at all. Also, I think he’d be more upset by the lack of positive reception to the mission reveal than he lets on in this version, so him keeping his response short will work better. Gotta keep some element of suspense.

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There we go! Look how much better it is when all the babbling is chopped out!

Next, Matthias’s frigid ways continue…

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Uh, oh! Something’s up with Mattie! What could it be?

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The set up of Matthias’s hissy-fit and Tango’s musing can definitely be handled in a more… fluid way. Keep the mystery without beating the reader over the head with it. Matthias’s behavior is weird, but it can be shown and not told.

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Much better! Enough to show that Mattie is behaving like an asshat and Tango is perplexed by it without being too wordy. The theme of the week seems to be trimming the fluff, and I gotta say, seeing all the superfluous bits getting shaved away is making my hatred of this plot-line wane, just a bit.

After Matthias blows up in spectacularly unprofessional fashion at Pilot, the commanding officers begin to speculate about his pissy mood…

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So, Tango knows – or thinks she knows – why Mattie is behaving like this. That can be said in far fewer words, and the remaining words can be shuffled around and tweaked to make the passage flow better.

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Clearly, the romance being set up is between Tango and Matthias, so this portion is meant to set up the fact that Tango knows him better than the others and views him in a more positive light. And by cutting some parts out and reworking some others, that message will come across a bit clearer.

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Okay, so this part of Chapter 8 wasn’t quite as bad as I expected, but next time, the real cringe sets in. Will we find out why Matthias is acting like such a jerk to everyone? Will Tango be able to improve his mood, or will her intervention make things worse? Stay tuned, for the exploration of the most regrettable romantic subplot of my early writing career!

For some less regrettable writing, check out my YA novel, I’m With You! The ebook is only $1.99 or (£1.55) and paperback is $9.99 (£7.99) on Amazon Amazon UK.  Paperback is also $9.99 on BN.com.