My plight over doing Short stories

I've been pondering something this week. I have a couple of ideas that would be good for several short stories but I'm wondering how to pull the trigger on this.

What I have is short plots that are half way fleshed out and wouldn't make it in a normal size novel without adding fluff to them, which people dislike.

So, I'm thinking of getting all of these ideas together and writing them in short spurts when I'm in summer semester of school. This could work as I have limited amount of time to write and won't have to follow an outline when running from place to place while jotting dialogue down.

But what will I do with these?

I've heard that others have done this but I haven't heard how well it went over. And of course, everyone has their own spin on things. Then you have to consider the cost if I self pub them because that means copyrights, cover art, and were to put it for sale. Would it be worth the risk to put them out there as I'm a virgin to the self pub world? It's exciting but intimidating and I already have a series that I'm debating for self pub next year. (Bites lip)

I wanna write these, just because my muse said so, but if it's going to feel like a waste of time then I'm doing myself a disservice. The next two months will be me working two jobs as I handle my "internship" while also keeping my day job. Because of past homework, I didn't have the time to write anything other than random ideas or lines as I focused on passing my courses. But I miss writing, and I do mean for more than 400 words of a blog. 

If I can pull these ideas out of my cramped skull, then what do I do with them? 

One of these plans is seven ideas based from one thought and I think it would be a fun exercise to do these little glimpses into my characters lives. I could put them all together into one book and see if anyone is interested in it or I can try to use it as a marketing tool to get more readers. 

One thought was to write each of the individual stories and post them here at random times but would you want to read several screens of a short piece or would you rather have a snippet then download (or email me) for the rest? There are so many possibilities and I need advice on how to best present them.

I wanna know from my readers what they'd like out of my insanity because you are the ones who are supporting my muse's madness. 

What do you guys want? Would you rather have one book with several little scenes in them or a piece that you could read each week/month that was free but teasing?

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn

Wench Writer

Second Week Snippet - Andromeda (my debut novel)

I'm going to share some tidbits form my debut novel, Andromeda. For those of you who haven't read it, I'm shocked, it's a  Secret Cravings Publishing best selling paranormal romantic suspense. Say that seven times really fast. (tongue tied)

Back Cover Blurb:

Andromeda is a 400 year old vampire with psychic abilities who is being stalked by a ghostly presence that wants to possess her body and own her soul. Things get heated as she meets the man destined to be her mate but a vision shows her that he’s meant to die because of what she is. Does she embrace what the Fates have shown in the mere touch of this stranger’s hand or does she run away in order to save the soul of this kissable man? Passion is too much to ignore for an immortal who has never felt its powerful pull. They throw caution to the wind and become lovers, enraging the stalker to use his inhuman powers to take what he believes should belong to him alone. They both fight for the power in her touch but only one man can have her body.

Opening:

I stood tall as he came closer to me, stopping in front of the dagger and letting it push slowly through the fabric of his tunic. His intense black eyes held my frightened ones, daring me to act. But even as I tried to dig the dagger into his chest with more force, it would not pierce his skin. Something, some unknown force, held me in position. I could think of tearing the sharp edge through his rib, but my body would not obey me. What magic was this? “You have power and courage, my young beauty.” He inhaled deeply, seeming to taste the air around me. “Yes, much power, a very rare find. I could use someone like you in my voyages.”

“I am not inclined to accept such an offer. Please take what silver and coin we have and leave us in peace.”

He simply laughed at my plea and it rolled across my skin in a shudder. “Silly child. I am a man who takes what he wants, which includes ye. Ye think that ye can just send me on my way? I find ye more and more intriguing with each passing moment. Courage and fire smolders beneath that skin. I must have ye now. And with me, the world will be open to ye. Ye can use your power to see me to the future while your body warms my bed at night.”

I'm going to focus a bit on the relationship between the evil Captain and the powerful Andromeda. I'll show you a few scenes that share what they feel from their unfortunate bond with each other. If it had been simple lust then she could have easily dispatched the blonde man of her past.

***

Later in the story:

“What madness have you driven me to, Anastase?”

His free hand was at my shoulder and he no longer needed to hold me prisoner against his body.

“Damien,” he corrected me again.

I shook my head. I wouldn’t give him more power over me and using his name would do just that. It was a small victory but I would take it.

“My dear, I have used old magic to bind us and we’re together in almost every way. I can feel your needs, hear your thoughts and see what you do. You belong to me.” He whispered the last few words against my collarbone.

***

Later still:

The night was balmy but with a delicate breeze, so I went onto the balcony for a moment before heading back to the bathroom for my necklace. Taking one final inhale, I smelled something intoxicating. Too intoxicating. I smelled the air once more and pinpointed it as it came toward the house. My mouth watered and I had to grip the banister to stop myself from jumping down to devour whatever came my way. Then I saw it, or rather him, with his glowing eyes. Anastase. He stood under the tree in front of my house. He wore a black leather jacket over his bare chest and dark wash jeans tucked into black leather boots.

It was as if I hadn’t fed in days. He must have done something for me to crave his blood this badly. Who cared if it was the one poisonous snake that would most certainly bite me? He smelled like lust, power, darkness, and strength, all at once. He bowed to me as he caught my gaze. I wondered what the snake would do next, and seeming to hear my thoughts, the very next moment he stood on the other side of the balcony. I stepped back until my back rested against the iron railing and held onto the sides as I waited for him to strike. Putting a hand to my neck, I then realized I was so exhausted I’d forgotten to put the vial back around my throat when I finished the shower.

I had no wish to fight him and didn’t have the strength, even if I desperately wanted to. He stepped within one foot of my leaning body and smiled. I wondered if Perseus would know Anastase was here; if he would burst out here at any moment. Anastase slowly shook his head at my unasked questions. He closed his eyes and showed me a mental image of Perseus at work, with papers all around him. Perseus would not be coming home tonight.

Anastase inhaled deeply and smelled my hunger for his blood and silently laughed as he reached inside his jacket. I leaned further over the railing, knowing I could jump if I had to. But before I could, he used a razor sharp nail to cut an X into the thin skin over his breastbone. I smelled that dark liquid and my knees buckled as it dripped down the smooth surface of his chest. It overwhelmed me.

***

Wanna see how it turns out? I know that I would. You can purchase it on : Amazon, Nook, or even the Secret Cravings website. Check it out.

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn

Wench Writer

Too Many Ideas?

Too many ideas? Is there really such a thing?

I have a wicked muse, Vivien, who has been known to whisper little tidbits into my waiting ears at all times of the day. She's a little devil because most of the time I'm in the shower or driving. (Insert Grumble here). Even thought her timing could be better suited to my busy schedule, I'm glad to have her in my fictional life. Without her, I wouldn't be writing as a "second" career, or even be published for that matter.

Here's the point to today's topic: Is there such a thing as too many ideas?

Currently, I have finished 2 full size paranormal manuscripts (outside of the two that are already published)and have started two others. By "started" I mean that one has 3k words to it and the other has 25k to it. Neither of these are associated with the other, but I am working on my luscious series (that hasn't been sold yet, COUGH COUGH). The Ideas don't stop there. A friend, Sabrina Pandora (of the Giant Girl saga), turned me onto using Google Drive as I floated between my many lists of characters and plots. It saves as I go, has it's on track changes, carries share opportunities, and is FREE. No, I'm not selling this system to you as so many of my writer friends are happily using Scrivener or Google Docs. But Sabrina understood how wicked my muse was and she knew this would help as Vivien's bi-polar creativity threw me every curve that she could possibly manage.

I'd love to post a screen print of the ideas that I have boosted onto this gem of a writing tool but I'm too paranoid that someone will beat me to my delicious ideas. (Writers do that.) A fellow writer, Layna Pimentel, had on Facebook that she had way too many ideas to get them all out of her wonderful head (for the moment ;-)). I understand this phenomenon. I have....drum roll please.....60+ novel ideas in a file that's making my head swim with the vertigo type possibilities. 

If I have added this up correctly (insert hysterical laughter), I have approximately 4 series plotted out (some are already started or at least outlined) with each of these having anywhere between six and ten books a piece. Then I have the Andromeda spin off for Perseus plus a series spin off with Leilei (unsold series). The rest (about thirty) are stand alone books that are a variety of paranormal creatures. I've got mermaids, werewolves, reapers, witches, my lovely vampires, and so much more. 

In my warped guesstimation, that would be roughly a book a year (maybe two as I graduate college soon), and possibly forty (God willing) good years to write my ideas. That's enough to keep me busy but my poor muse would have a coronary. She's already threatened to file neglect charges (because of said college classes) so her health relies on me (grin). 

So, how do you handle all of your ideas, especially if you're as blessed as I am in that department? Do you think that you'll ever write the great ideas that you have stored away? How will you accomplish this and do you have a calculated system set for this kind of thing? I'd love to hear what you have.

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn

Wench Writer

  

Writing Tools - I Jot As To Not Forget

I'm in my early forties and not only have I been through pregnancy but a spinal injury that could possibly be blamed for some of my memory issues. As I'm a creative lady, I constantly get slammed with ideas from my muse, Vivien. She's a red headed step child that giggles naughty ideas in my ears at all times of the day and night. She HAS to be a young'n because no older person would have the energy to keep those actions up for any long period of time.

 I get ideas at the worst of times, for me. I'll be driving or rinsing conditioner out of my hair and BAM she strikes. I love the little surprises but can you imagine the difficulty of getting these yummy tidbits down before they're stricken away by normal life? For me, it's darn near impossible. I have a note pad at several points in my house, plus a board in the kitchen, but it's not enough.

I've gotten myself in many a case where I'm unable to write anything down, like in traffic. I got myself a handheld recorder for conferences and seminars but it's usually in the floorboard with my purse. I'm not about to explain to a cop that I was driving from my floorboard because a yummy scene filled my head with sexual tension and giggles. I could do it but it wouldn't be pretty.

So, I've added a voice activated note device on my phone that I can speak into as I'm at a red light. I've even added a collection of note pads and a capped pen for my dashboard, in case my phone is in that same purse in the leaf strewn floorboard. It's helped in the last week as I've gotten three manuscript ideas that are jotted down on those slips of paper. Yea me!

A cousin of mine said it was suggested that she use a dry erase board for those moments when you can't run around the house (wet & naked) trying to find a pen that won't bleed from your still dripping skin. But I think it'd make a great Rorschach design. Giggle. My shower is a bit small for that so I'd have to have one hidden behind the toilet that could be slipped out in between rinses. Sad, huh? Don't you wish you had these kinds of problems? And I can't use those soap crayons since my tiled walls are too dark to read from, so I need better ideas....or a better timed muse...Right...

Do you have wonderful ideas to share? I'd love to hear them.

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn

Wench Writer

BONUS BLOG, From Wendy Beck - Zookeeping vs. Writing? Not as different as you’d think.

So, I get asked a lot… “Did you always dream of writing?” Uh, no. “Oh,“ they say, as if that response has never actually occurred before and the conversation comes to a stuttering halt. I always dreamt of being an animal caretaker.

I know. I know. Lots of folks dream that, but then there’s that whole “here’s your bucket of Meeses Pieces. Be careful of the barn owl; he likes to land on your head” thing. Writing suddenly looks really good. Less snakes. So, I was just slower to come around to that way of thinking. Kind of the same speed as my survival instincts around large predators. I do so love a big kitty. Probably why I wrote about feline shapeshifters.

9^th Life is my combination of multiple loves: animals, paranormal, and yogic tradition. What? Confusing? Let me explain. Nope, there’s too much; let me sum up. (Always Princess Bride with me. What can ya do?) The shapeshifters in my trilogy, The Naming of Legends, are known as the Ailuro, and they are capable of a lot more than simply dropping into fur. I practice kriya yoga and am fascinated with the study of energy around the tradition. Also quantum physics. Together the two conjure an impression: thought effects outcome. Like most authors, I asked the extreme question; what if a race of people were simply wired to slip into that profound meditative state where thought precedes form?   That’s how stories are born—what if…

So after three years of writing The Naming of Legends trilogy, I decided to release it into the wild, hoping that it would find its place. Those who’ve read it would tell you that the story is a lot like a cat; it pulls you in with a purr before sinking its teeth. Just what you’d expect from a zookeeper.

Wendy Beck, and 9^th Life, can be found in some pretty wild places. These are safer:

http://amzn.com/B00JMOAUNW

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8121849.Wendy_Beck

www.wendymbeck.com

www.facebook.com/authorwendybeck

Second Week Snippets - My Current WIP (Stand alone)

We enter this scene with a sheltered woman who fights to be her own person and not the make believe person that her father has turned her into. You see, her father has signed her marriage contract to a man she hasn't seen in ten years. She's taken a precarious ride out into the property as she thinks over the ways that she can legally get out of this contract, without loosing everything around her.

***

I was so wrapped up in my own misery that I didn’t hear him until it was too late.

“I told you that you shouldn’t be out here this close to dawn.”

I squeaked as I jumped up. Then I proceeded to fall backward into the cool dark water. Thank goodness we couldn’t drown because my mouth was open when my back hit the muddy bank.

Just when my skin registered the water, I was yanked upward. I was back on my feet as my hair was clinging to my face and throat. I could feel the man who held me, like a heavy presence on my tight nerves. I reached over his arm to swipe the hair from my eyes. I never should have done that. I would’ve been better off not seeing those possessive eyes.

My breath held, tight in my chest, as the memory slammed into me with force.

“No, not you.”

“Yes, me.”

No. Not him. My mind fractured as I fought to grasp the situation. The man who still held my arms was the same man that I had just been running away from. His hold on my future was as steely as the grip he had on me now. This broad and surprisingly gorgeous vampire was to be my husband.

“You thought it’d be that easy to hide?”

“What are you doing here?” I stammered.

Then I realized that I could still feel his skin on mine. I shuffled backward, out of his hands.

“You know the answer to that, Calinda Paki. You are to join the Osiris clan, by the full moon.”

***

And later..........

“Calinda, please kiss me.”

With those words I was lost. I complied.

I placed both of my hands around his face, embracing his strong jaw line as I set about tasting him. I had little idea of how to do this properly but something in me needed this. I had to see if there was anything to us other than our families. If there was no real spark then I had to make this a true arrangement. It was the only thing that made sense. Then I blocked my thoughts and focused on him. What would feel wonderful if done to me? How do I see if I’m adept at all in the bedroom? This was virgin territory to me, in all realms of the imagination.

I ran my tongue over his lips, like he had mine. His breath hitched, just a notch. I nipped at his bottom lip and his eyelashes fluttered against my high cheekbones. I pulled at his face until my tongue could spear into his mouth to touch his. Then I was being pulled downward, further under him. My head was no longer at a bad angle and his weight was surprisingly pleasing on the length of me.

It was shocking but maybe not, as married couples did more than just touch. Hold. Kiss. My wet tongue darted naively with his. My middle tightened under him, in nervous anticipation. The kiss deepened and our breathing changed. I nipped at his full bottom lip and got a groan in response. A butterfly took flight in my stomach. I boldly did it again, harder, before I dove into a kiss so searing that I thought I would surely melt. I felt an unfamiliar need. This was nothing I had ever felt before. I wanted more of this feeling. Bathing in it would be downright irresistible.

***

Well, what do you think about these little morsels?

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn

Wench Writer

College Fried - My Phrase of the Year

Some of you know that I'm a (older) college student. I had such a bad experience in high school that I didn't see myself paying money that I didn't have to go through more of the same torture. My family didn't have the money to send me and my grades weren't good enough to get the scholarships that were available. I went to one of the worst schools for my county and that may explain why I was ready to run from further education.
The force was against me.

I've been taking online courses since the summer of 2011 and I'm supposed to graduate this year. I'm afraid to even say the actual date as it worries me all that has to be accomplished to get to that final day. My teacher wants me to take more steps and push to be a PA (Physicians Asst). As I've seen some of the troubles of the nurses around me, I'm not thinking that I have what it would take to travel that path. But I actually have enough core classes to get three other certificates yet I'm just too burnt out to wrap my head around trying for more than what I'm finishing.

That leads me to understand that I'm not only College Fried but I've set a specific limit for my immediate future. Those lines in the sand are beneficial, if properly thought out, as they keep you from over extending yourself to dangerous levels. They can be detrimental if you set your goals too low for what you can achieve so I've thought this through the past year. "Never underestimate the strength of your own soul." ME

I've been working a full time job, writing in my free time in between semesters, attending GRW (Georgia Romance Writers) meetings, planning a few things for the annual GRW Moonlight and Magnolia Conference, and all these courses/labs at night school. I've been in night classes for the last few semesters and I'm going to bed dreaming about the procedures that I need to be able to handle safely.

Currently, I'm also working 10 hours a week at my clinicals. This is where I use my skills in a hands on setting, as I learn from others in the field. I'm not getting paid for any clinical time as it goes to credit hours in my degree. In Jun and July, I do the harder set of clinicals that are more in depth and further outside of my comfort zone. They have me wondering if I can do what I've set myself up for. But, I'm reminded by loved ones that I Can Do This, or I wouldn't have gotten this for.

I love my people.

I'm hoping that by this summer, I will be on my way to a more fulfilling career in medicine that will fit in nicely with the author in my soul. It seems that my whole life has been meant to help others. It can be in the form of Dr's, in an office setting or it could be in the words of my characters as they take you on a trip away from reality. Either way, I'm making someone feel better. That sounds wonderful to me.

)))Corset Hugs(((

Ginny Lynn

Wench Writer