Are you there Muse? It's me, Alyssa

Re-post from my writing blog, StoryBoxSmashBook! Follow if you want to hear my rambles on writing and other things :)

There are a lot of different ways that people describe inspiration.

It comes from a muse, like Stephen King's guy in the basement. It comes from a genius, a fleeting spirit, like Elizabeth Gilbert explains in her awesome TED talk. It's something that you're born with. It's something that you look for, work for, sweat for.

These days, I feel like my muse is a toddler, an a-hole that flips people off on the freeway for no reason, a rabbit in a snare, and an overall terrible human being/spirit/mysterious entity... depending on the day.

Example: I set aside a few hours to write. I pick up a book and read for inspiration. I try to jot some lines. I read through a million blogs about the writing life, character development, and how to create a believable villian.

But I don't get much done. This time is pretty much wasted.

Another Example: I sit down on the couch to work (I write blogs like this from home for a living... doesn't sound so cool now, does it?) I tell myself I won't stop until I'm done for the day. I will not write. I will not get sidetracked by writer blogs or book reviews or try to place another 12 books on hold at the library.

I tell my muse to sit in the corner, be quiet, pencils down, do not talk to your neighbor. I tell it to save its ideas for later. I tell it not to bother me.

What happens then? The muse is quiet for awhile, I get some blogs done. I blast the new Sleigh Bells album and am pretty productive, if I say so myself.

Then the muse raises its hand.

I ignore it.

It starts jumping up and down like Hermione in Defense Against the Dark Arts. I tell it to shut up. I put on blinders and headphones and turn the music up too loud. I ignore it.

It jumps up on the desk and shouts the most spectacularly tempting crap. "What if you changed the point of view on that story you've been trying to write?!" It yells. "What if everything you say was recorded in your brain and you could read through the transcript of your entire life?!"

I sit and stare at it. I am so pissed off that the muse chooses this moment to bring me the most excellent ideas. The type of ideas I was hunting during the set "writing time" I had yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that.

I pull off my headphones and I think about shouting to the muse, "Where were you yesterday you lazy piece of crap?! That was your designated time and you were giving me the freaking SILENT TREATMENT."

But the ideas are too good. I put the laptop away and I take out my notebook and I choose an especially colorful pen (hot pink) and I start to write.

I don't work for the rest of the day.

Now I have no idea how to set aside time to write when my muse/annoying-kid-in-the-corner-with-Great-Ideas-at-all-the-wrong-times refuses to obey. Maybe I'll try to trick it next time. I'll sit down to write a blog about "real estate West Newbury" when I really mean to get an idea and work on those stories that just aren't looking great right now.

What does it say about me that I need to use freaking REVERSE PSYCHOLOGY on a possibly non-existent spiritual thing to be able to write?


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from StoryBoxSmashBook: a writing blog!

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My Least-Wanted List: Cliches in Young Adult Lit

This is a  re-post from my writing blog, story box smash book!

I am tired, (oh so tired), of reading young adult novels that feature the same plot devices, the same turns of phrase, the same character shells. I think that what writers of young adult fiction provide their readers should be better than these trite euphemisms. I believe in something better.

I thereby swear as an aspiring writer of young adult fiction to never EVER contribute to the following cliches.

If I do commit one of these crimes, please feel free to burn me alive.

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1. Characters That Cup Each Other's Faces:This is one of the things that I hate the most about any novel, not just young adult. I hate that every hero cups the heroine's face in his hands before he delivers that tingling, life-changing kiss. I hate it!!

2. The Unexpected / Undesired Class Partner:I swear, there has got to be another way for the author to throw two high school students together, even if they are complete opposites. Even if one of them is an alien and flies up to outer space after school everyday. From the amount of unexpected partnerships that I read about, you'd think that every single day in high school would feature that dreaded partner-project, but no. They don't. I also hate this one something fierce. 

3. The Overreaction / Damsel In Distress:How many people (please raise your hands) remember reading about a heroine that consistently feels weak in the knees (I have NEVER felt this before, personally), falls over due to emotional trauma (does being surprised or sad affect your balance?), or simply faints/falls/throws up for no reason? How many people have had these things happen in real life, and if you have, was there every a gorgeous guy there to pick you up? (Suddenly his arms were around me, supporting me, SWOON!) Never. 

Most likely, even your current boyfriend / husband / significant other would try to get away from your projectile vomit... at least at first. 

4. The Sudden / Inexplicable Urge To Touch Someone You Barely Know: This one is so overused. I even catch myself almost writing it into my current work-in-progress. Sometimes, I think bad books are forging neural pathways in my brain that I don't know if I can undo. 

ANYWAY, why is the main character always compelled to touch a person that they barely know? In high school, I never had an urge to caress the hot guy I had a crush on, (well, maybe in my dreams), because he would think I was crazy, and he would be right. There has got to be a better way to explain an attraction / fascination with someone's appearance!

Although you may think that I am unaware of the fact that I am just comparing these YA characters with myself, (which is probably a high-form of narcissism, but I'm choosing to ignore that for now), I am most certainly aware of it!

I only do so in order to explain that if I feel so cut-off from these characters, so turned off by their overused mannerisms, so tired of their cheesy dialogue, than aren't many other readers going to feel the same way?

I almost feel like any YA author--current or aspiring--should take every first instinct that they have for dialogue, setting, and plot, and throw it completely out the window. They should throw their second thoughts out the window, too. The third thoughts can stay. This will become the new YA. The better YA.

Just a thought.

What do you think? Do you have other cliches that you can't stand? Do you think I'm being too harsh?

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Lyss On Something

For the past few months, I've been trying my hand at writing. I've always loved creative writing and have kept messy little notebooks filled with crazy thoughts. Now, I'm trying to turn those thoughts into something real and coherent. Something complete and sparkly.

Something like a novel.

As I suddenly realized that I wanted to write a novel, I also suddenly realized that I would need help doing this. A lot of help. I started collecting writing advice from books, the blogs of authors, etc. 

In order to help me keep all of this advice organized and solidified in my brain, I started another blog, called Lyss On Something.

This is a blog about reading, writing and creating. This is a blog that will chronicle my journey to (hopefully) authordom.

Come join me! :)

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Mr. Darcy and Grace: Literary Lovers Mash-Up Writing Contest

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 Yesterday, I came across this link from Novel Novice for their 2nd Annual Literary Lovers Mash-Up Writing Contest! Here is their explanation of the contest:

This is your chance to imagine if two unlikely literary heroes met and had an explosive romance. For example …

What if Mr. Darcy met Bella from Twilight?
What if Katniss from The Hunger Games met Jace from The Mortal Instruments?
What if Edward Cullen met Jane Eyre?

Can you imagine the possibilities?

As soon as I read this prompt, I immediately began having ideas for stories. I started writing names of famous heroes and heroines from my favorite books in two columns. In the end, I decided to mix up Grace from Maggie Stiefvater's Shiver series and the ever-present Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice.

Here's what I came up with.

            Mr. Darcy stood abruptly from the table as she walked in the room. She was young and beautiful, with golden hair the color of wheat. She looked at him, confused, “What are you doing?” she asked.

            Mr. Darcy thought it was painfully obvious that he was reading, especially considering their current location in the public library. “I’m reading,” he said curtly.

            The girl did a strange thing with her eyes that Darcy thought embodied exasperation almost perfectly. “I know that you’re reading. I meant what are you doing standing up right as I walk in?” She pulled a book from the shelf next to her, absently flipping through the pages.

            “It is customary where I come from to stand when a lady enters the room.”

            She made a noise that could only be described as a chortle. “Who do you think you are, Mr. Darcy?”

            He stepped back suddenly against his chair. “Yes,” he breathed.

            She glanced up from her book. “Yes, what?”

            “Yes,” he began. “I’m Mr. Darcy.” He had not realized before he said those words how he ached to let someone know who he really was. To finally end the masquerade that was his existence, stuck so firmly in modernity when he longed to be free.

            She shut the book. Moving to the stack on the other side of the table she said casually, “Are you an actor or something?”

“No.”

            His voice was filled with so much disappointment and anguish that Grace turned to fully face him. His eyes were wide and pleading. She noticed then that he was dressed oddly in a large cloak, a white flowing shirt and formal pants she thought should be called trousers. He certainly looked like Mr. Darcy. She suddenly had an image of him as a poor deranged man, waking up every day as certain as he was of his own beating heart that he was Mr. Darcy. She felt herself tearing up at the thought.

            Darcy walked toward her. “Do you believe me?”

            She took in the earnestness of his face, so blatantly different than his earlier cold tones. “No,” she said softly.

            His dropped his head and ran both hands through his long hair.

            “I believe that you believe you are Mr. Darcy.”

            Hands behind his neck, he looked up, suddenly serious. At his burning gaze Grace felt a tightening in her chest. There was so much in his eyes, like he’d been waiting hundreds of years for her to come along and tell him that, like he needed to hear those words more than he needed the blood in his veins.

            He took another quick step towards her. “May I?”

            Grace looked up at him. “Yes.”

            He took one last step. Grace stood on her tippy toes and kissed him, gently but fervently. As she moved to wrap her hands around his neck and deepen their kiss her hands met nothing but empty air. She dropped her arms and opened her eyes.

            He was gone.

So there's my entry! Does anyone else have ideas for other good mash-ups??

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