Cole started this round of the blog chain with this question:
Are you querying? Gearing up to go on submission? Writing? Revising? I’d love to hear what’s new with you. And if you’d like to share a snippet of your WIP, even better!
Like so many other writers, I’m juggling several balls in the air, which makes my answer quite simple:
I am writing, revising, gearing up for the query road, and finding as many coping strategies as I can to, ahem, tolerate the waiting. Reading, writing blog posts, chatting with writerly friends are all great strategies and have come in VERY handy!
Taking a break from querying (it’s been over eight months now) has really been a wonderful thing. I’ve been able to really work on the art of writing so I can have a better chance at requests (I hope, LOL!) But now I’m nervous to get back in it. *sheepish grin*
Luckily, the excitement (and encouraging support of others) outweighs any butterflies (or panic attacks) and I can say that I’m far more ready now than I was two years ago when I first started this journey.
Alrighty, then. Now, for a snippet of my most recent novel, a YA dystopian where vampires (Sharpies) are once again…wait for it…EVIL!
Tears matched pace with the rain streaming down my face. My fingers clenched into fists at my sides. I stared at Sammie’s lifeless body discarded by the Sharpie’s feet like garbage.
While I shivered in the chilling rain, he seemed impervious to it. It doused his dark hair, traveled in rivulets down his straight nose, dripped from his angular jaw, but he didn’t move or blink.
“What do you want?” I shook my head once, left to right.
“Is that all you have to say?” A grin mangled the Sharpie’s features. His exposed fangs seemed to glow in the pale city light bouncing off the low clouds. He spread his arms wide and shrugged.
“I’m not going to play your game, so just get it over with,” I spoke through gritted teeth. It kept my heart from leaping out of my mouth.
His grin faded. “Really? You’re not even going to try and fight me?” He grunted. “How disappointing.”
“Why should I give you the satisfaction?”
“Well, you must want to avenge your little sister, don’t you? Or has the anemia wasted your brain too much?” He kicked at Sammie’s belly. Her body shifted so she faced the sky.
“Don’t touch her!” I stepped forward.
“Ah, so you are enraged.” He grinned again. “Come on. Show me what you’ve got.”