Spotlighting my fellow writers at SHU and their works in progress.
Hello Rachel, and Welcome to Amy's Book Den!
Did you always know you wanted to be a professional writer?Rachel Robins
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I started writing at the awkward age of 17, but didn't really start a serious pursuit of it until college. I've a BA in Christian Studies, a certificate in Creative Writing, and am currently a graduate student enrolled in the Masters in Fine Arts program at Seton Hill University for Writing Popular Fiction. In my spare time I write, I read, I dabble in almost every craft known to man, except possibly underwater basket weaving. You can find my thoughts on writing, reading, YA and UF on my blog R2 Writes, and coming soon, my flash fiction at The Wood Word.
No. Although now that I think about it, I'm surprised that it took me so long to realize that's what I wanted to be. I've always loved stories and reading in general, and I believe I wrote my first short story in 2nd grade. But sadly, it wasn't until I entered college that I started pursuing writing seriously.
Who or what has influenced your writing?
Just about everything I come across leaves an impact on my writing, but if I had to say who was the person who lit a fire under my ass to start, it'd have to be Laurell K. Hamilton, author of the Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter series. I had picked up her series in high school and loved her earlier books—yanno, before everything went downhill. I ragequit when she shifted her genre from Urban Fantasy to Paranormal Erotica, keen on coming up with something better on my own.
I don't know if the stuff I'm producing actually is better, but I'm still trying.
Though I didn't quit the series and still enjoyed the later books, I agree that Hamilton's earlier work is much, much better. It's also one of the first UF series I ever read. As for trying, that's all we can do, right? Keep on trying!
What is your favorite part about writing?
Creating absurdity. It's the best part, hands down. I love to take a character, and throw such bizarre spin their way that they're left with "Dafuq?" going on in their heads.
And cackle evilly while you do it!...At least, that's what I do.
Is there anything you must have when you sit down and write? Coffee, Music, Cookies?
Generally, I need quiet. And a separate space away from people so that when I start voicing unsolicited thoughts, no one gives me a crazy look. Hm. What else? Caffeine. Definitely. Although I've also had good results with wine. I just try not to hit it too terribly often.
Tell us a bit about your Thesis Novel.
In a world where creatures of legend are commonplace, Ava Raine is forced to develop her long-ignored telepathy, fight the demons of her past, and accept that she herself is a monster, when she's drafted for service in the U.S. military.
Now that's a beautiful summary. Can't wait for the say I'll see it on the back of the actual book!
Describe Ex Nihilo in five words or less.
Dafuq? Mindreader-girl be crazy.
What sparked the idea for Ex Nihilo?
Laurell K. Hamilton-inspired rage, mostly. I knew I wanted to write urban fantasy, just not any zombies, necromancers, or vampire hunting. Everything else followed logically from there.
Treat us to a snipped of a favorite scene you've written so far.
Here's an excerpt from my Chapter 1:
It came in through the mail magicked to look like a credit card offer. When George waved it in my direction, the envelope boasted no interest for 18 months and a low fixed APR. Junk mail, I thought. But when I touched it, pain seared upwards from fingertips to shoulder blade. I gasped, dropping it a millisecond later.
Waves of snapping electricity expanded outward from the letter's center on the carped. It corroded the image of the offer, revealing a large manila envelope in its place. It looked very official.
That was the first time I saw magic at work.
My brother's eyes went wide. "What the hell?"
Magicked mail in this human household could mean only one thing.
"My quarantine notice," I said. My heart fluttered. Singed fingers were forgotten.
These days the notices were concealed as something else. Sometimes nudie mags, sometimes church brochures, or whatever. It wasn't always this way, but now it was to easy to steal an identified's mail. Too many human hate groups made it a sport to snatch these notices from mailboxes, not that they opened them. When the addressees didn't receive their summons, they were charged with failure to appear, then declared rogue and hunted down for a price. Three thousand and seven had died before officials caught on that first year. Another 66 were killed before the camouflaged ones were issued.
Here was mine on the floor. Safe. I smiled. it was the best thing I could have hoped for. Some people hated the identified quarantine system. They spouted that they had rights, the same as humans. That they had fought for this country and refused to be treated like second-class citizens.
But I didn't care about that. I wasn't an able-bodied identified. My notice was my ticked to a comfortable apartment in one of the identified Quarters, perhaps even LA, with a monthly disability check. I wouldn't have to hide indoors anymore, dodge rocks thrown by neighbors, or fear what might happen to my family because of me.
It meant a new life, filled with freedom. Something I'd never have here. The relief was almost tangible when it hit me. For the first time in a long while, I started to get excited.
George bent to retrieve it for me. He paused. "Uh, Cass?"
Car brands I could buy flashed through my mind. A Toyota or Honda, I decided. I could hardly contain my good mood. I smiled. "Yeah?"
My brother's face was frozen. "The return address?" He handed it to me. This time it tickled my fingertips, but didn't burn. "It's not..."
I had to read the name twice: 1st SFOD-E. The acronym didn't mean anything to me. Then clarity snapped into place. Echo Force.
My excitement evaporated, just like that. In a second the manila envelope transformed from a symbol of hope into something far more obscene. Echo didn't send out quarantine notices. They only sent out one thing. A draft.
It hit me like a kick to the gut. "No." The sound came out soft. "No."
I remember reading this during our first term and thinking zomg! want moar now!
Share with us one tip or advice about writing that has helped you a lot.
Like my mother says, "Keep it simple, stupid." Just because you have a complex world or a surplus of intertwining subplots doesn't mean you can hurl everything at the read all at once.
Put your blinders on, and focus on one element at a time. Only feed the reader information on an as-needed basis, detail by detail. Any more than that, either your story will start to bloat in places, or you'll entirely confuse your audience.
That is some good advice right there!
Thank you for stopping by Rachel!
