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How to Fix a ‘Contrived’ Plot

OMG.

What to do when you realize your book may be too contrived?

That is, for no apparent reason, your hero or heroine does something stupid, or unexplained?

Don’t freak out! It just happened to us, and the manuscript was finished. At first, I did hit the panic button, but then, we figured, hey. we can make ANYTHING happen we want. WE are the authors!

I went through the plot and IM’d Chantel with my editor’s comments.

The first time our heroine gets in trouble, she sneaks off for no apparent reason, other than to slay the bad guy. Hmmm. Okay My husband said, that seems pretty contrived. So instead, maybe she should get a call from someone she owes big time, asking her for a huge favor. Much better.

Later, our hero says ‘stay put’ and expects her to obey, even though she has shown no signs of following orders throughout the whole of the book. Damn. As my husband editor looked at it, he said our hero seemed a bit naive, here.

So, how to fix it? How about we let her come along with the hero, but insist she stay in the car.  Surely that would be reasonable. Then, if she doesn’t listen, despite the danger, it would be more believable. The husband agreed.

The last ‘fix’, Chantel and I had to discuss on IM. Because of our personal experiences, she trusted a hotel room as safe, and I did not. In the original plot, our hero leaves our heroine alone in a nice hotel, because the bad guy is presumed dead.  In the new, Chantel suggested our hero post a guard at the door, just in case. That was good because I could not think of an easy way out.

These are small changes, but we make our characters more believable!

Want to be a Beta Reader and let me know if it works? Leave a comment!

Good luck with your plot.

 

 

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How Do You Come up with Ideas for Your Novels?

Where do you come up with this stuff?

Honestly? It’s more like ‘How do I shut this stuff off.’

Can you elaborate?

Sure. I can give you a few. ‘A Witch to Die For’ started as a sexy daydream, where guy meets girl, during summer solstice. Then the ‘what-if’s’ kick in. What if he’s a witch and they need to make a witchy connection. What if she doesn’t know how? What if his family offers to train her? What if she’s really powerful and someone else wants her?

Another one?
What if…This geeky girl got this hard drive from a long lost brother who’s nothing but trouble?

Yet another?
What if…That key in my purse was really to a safety deposit box, and someone, desperate to be rid of it, dropped it there after a murder.

And so my mind goes

Wow. So how do you turn that into a novel?

At first it was pretty random. But now that I’ve studied the craft, I’ve started to formalize the process. Most important is ‘Goal, Motivation, and Conflict’. There’s a lot of really great articles out there, so if you’re interested on how-to, I might suggest to Google it.

But your first series, is medieval. Are you a history buff?

Not any more than most. What I like to do is put myself in some scene, and describe it. What if I lived in a drafty stone building? How would I warm up? What would I do to make it nicer? People are people. They want to be comfortable.

How did you figure out all the details in your book?

Google Search is an amazing thing.

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pocketa-pocketa

Today’s thoughts.

I never was much of a letter writer. I still am not. Why? Because, honestly, what goes on day to day is pretty boring. I often think of myself a lot like Walter Mitty in the original Thurber story, (not the Stiller movie). Instead of pocketa-pocketa going on in my head, there’s characters and scenes playing out. They talk, and jockey for position.

Bad guys explain why it makes perfect sense to do dastardly deeds. At some point I just have to agree. Otherwise I shall never get the laundry done, get dressed, and get to yoga.

Yesterday, while cleaning the greasy fan over the stove with a Mr. Clean eraser, I had to argue with the heroine about following the hero into battle. Honestly? I finally had to have her husband lock her in the dungeon.

Did that work? No. Because then the evil highlander, the one with schizophrenia, decides to use her and her son to discourage our hero from fighting to get his inheritance back.

I have to go to my day job now, and put them all mentally away, like the dolls I played with as a kid. But when I stop for a moment, they’re not real polite about waiting. What about the castle? What about love? What about justice? Will the head injury leave permanent damage?

QUIET!

 

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A NEW INTERVIEW WITH MARCUS!

Check this out. It’s a #MUSTREAD!

sorry.. no time to chat… at work.

History Imagined!

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First Sneak Peak at Dark Tremor!

Chapter 1

 

Let’s see what this baby can do. Jace revved the custom engine of his new ATV and grinned. The desert whirled by at 100 mph, he caught some air, and flew.

“Fuck yeah!” What a rush. Better than winning at the tables last night.

Back teeth chomped together when all four wheels landed. He turned the wheel in the opposite direction, rotated his wrists, and his ride sped forward. Sweeeeet. Ahead lay nothing but blue sky, a couple cactus, and a lot of empty miles.

Above him a falcon circled, then swooped low. He only took his eyes off the terrain for a moment, but when he looked back, his vehicle rocketed, full speed towards a woman’s small form. With only a couple feet to spare, he cranked the wheel and held his breath.

Shit. Where the hell had she come from?

With each turn of the deathly merry-go-round, a huge boulder grew closer. Time stood still. Impact imminent. As he spun out, he swore a fissure ripped through the surface of the desert and the mammoth rock sank halfway into the riverbed.

What the fuck?

Another turn.

The blob disappeared.

His right front wheel hit something solid, and he flipped, and rolled. A sickening crunch, followed by an odd silence except for the spinning of tires.

With some effort, he unclenched his jaw and took a deep breath. The sharp edges of the harness dug into his neck and the sky stood where the ground should be. But he was alive.

Upside down, a woman, no, the woman who’d just caused this disaster, peered down, or rather up, and said, “Are you okay?”

“Hell, no. I’m not okay, lady. Look at my ATV.” What a stupid question. Adrenaline raced through his veins, needing an outlet.

Her face-load of attitude and army-surplus attire was covered in dust. “Listen to me, asshole. I don’t give a shit about your vehicle. Were you hurt?”

He wiggled his toes. Good.

Fingers. Good.

Hanging like a bat, he wedged his legs and released his harness. The world righted itself when he jumped onto all fours and crawled out of the wreckage onto the still cool sand of the morning.

“What the hell were you doing out there? I could’ve killed you.” His hand came back bloody when he rubbed above his right eye.

“Me?” Her dirty brows furrowed. Blue eyes glared, white teeth showed, and no doubt, sharp claws hid inside the oversized jacket. “Didn’t you see the no trespassing signs?”

“There weren’t any signs,” he growled, rolling his shoulders. A wave of nausea washed over him and his vision went foggy. He gripped the side of the ATV to keep from tumbling forward.

She rolled her eyes. “You are hurt. Follow me.”

A sweet little ass turned and walked towards a nearby hill.

Before following, he tried to clear his thoughts and recall the sequence of events.

Woman. Bolder. And…earthquake? Sure enough. He hadn’t imagined the two foot gash that zig-zagged across the river bed. What were the odds?

Slim to none.

Suspicious, he followed her up a steep hill, and through the glassed in front wall of some kind of cave dwelling. Figures. The badger had a burrow.

“You live in a cave?”

“Earthship. Entirely eco-friendly.” She pointed to a ladder-back chair and threw him a roll of paper towels. “Sit and try not to bleed on anything. Give me a sec’ to clean up.”

While water ran from behind the bathroom door, he pulled off a wad of paper towels, and pressed it to one eye. With the other, he made a quick assessment of her space. Cheap, but sparkling appliances lined one wall.  On the other side of the island that divided the open space, a lumpy couch faced a fourteen-inch screen.

Above, a wood railing circled a loft with a low bed.

He jumped when an orange tabby landed on the large antique table in front of the glass wall. It padded around a short wave radio, and a laptop, making a dreadful meowing sound. It sat down next to a pile of rough, blue stones.

Jace picked one up and whistled through his teeth.

Turquoise. Beautifully veined. And not from a mine he recognized. Probably worth a small fortune.

Wet-faced, she dashed out of the bathroom with a towel around her neck. “Put that down.”

The gem fell from his hand and his mouth dropped open. Holy hell.

Her newly scrubbed face revealed a pert nose and wide kissable lips, framed by long dark-blonde hair. But it was the damp, white t-shirt, worn without a bra, leaving little to the imagination that had his cock standing at attention.

When she caught him staring, she turned bright red, and grabbed a sweatshirt off a chair. It was too late. His dick knew what it saw–and it wanted it.

Bustling across the room, she struggled with her zipper while trying to balance a first aid kit under her arm.

“I said not to touch anything.” She picked up the stone and put it back in the pile.

“Sorry.” Arms raised, he stepped away, but couldn’t hide the widening smirk.

“Sit down and I’ll clean your cut.” Small palms pushed at his chest, ineffectively, but remained, as if glued. She stared, stunned.

The energy pulsing into him made his knees weak.

No. No. No. Hell, no. He’d only felt that once before in his life and he wasn’t about to do that again.

When he jumped back, she beat him to the punch line. “That is so not going to happen. Understood?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Sit, before you fall down.” Her hands trembled as she snapped open the old metal first aid kit and searched the bins.

Sitting, in one of two chairs, he noticed that there was two of everything. “So, you married?”

“None of your business. Close your eyes. This is going to sting.” She pressed an antiseptic pad against the cut on his forehead.

“Owe. Damn. Stop that.”

Without thinking, he grabbed her hand and bam. There it was again. No denying it. She was a witch, and a powerful one at that. She’d probably be a perfect match for him, if he was looking for a mate. Which he damn well was not.

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Free Kindle Fire 7

Hi,

There’s still a chance to win a Kindle Fire 7!

or a $10 gift card

or a Signed/Magnet Card set

or a Signed Copy of ‘How To Train Your Knight’!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

I just ordered new magnets and the CUTEST stationary from Vista Print and am DYING to give some away.

I also am in serious need of Amazon reviews for ‘How To Marry Your Wife.’

Now, I only believe in gettin’ honest review. Y’know? Because anything else just isn’t right. So. that bein’ said, let me know if you’d like to review ‘How to Marry Your Wife’ and if you like refrigerator magnets!

Just comment below, or email me at stellamariealden@gmail.com. If you can’t afford the book, I can gift you a copy!

Fondly,

Stella!

Win A Full Signed Card & Magnet sets

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The TBR Pile! Recommended Read!

Check this out! Go Visit!

http://thetbrpile.weebly.com/reviews/giveaway-how-to-marry-your-wife-by-stella-marie-alden

TBR Reviewer: Amy

Rating: 4 Stars – Recommended Read!

Heat: 3/5 – Blush Worthy!

Six long years have passed without a word from Merry’s Knight. When Sir Thomas shows up he’s singing poetry one minute then denying their son the next. She is not the young woman he used to know. Merry is now a woman with a sharp tongue and knife, not afraid to use either or both on him.  She vows to never marry him. Sir Thomas cannot understand her attitude towards him. He had no choice to leave her six years ago. Will this tear them apart for good or will they discover the love they have for one another again?

The moment I finished the prologue of the story I knew I was in for a good time.

From the start it seems these two are cursed. Their first joining to the many years apart and miscommunication has set Merry and Thomas in opposite directions. It seems that Merry, once timid and shy is now more vocal. She’s not afraid to speak her mind. Although she has had to bare so much from a young age she is still a delightful person and I love her character.  Sir Thomas has me on an emotional roller caster. One minute I love him, then love becomes hate, then laughter, just when I thought all is lost with him he redeems himself. These two are great together and their dialogue is so good. I did enjoy that the story doesn’t only focus on their re-connection but of the plots and ploys that involve them. I really like Nicholas and I hope to read more about him in a future story.

​This was an excellent historical romance that kept me on the edge throughout the story!

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How to Co-Author a Best Seller

 

To enter the contest above, chose the home page.

What’s great about co-authoring?

Just about everything.

You get two fan bases, your books out sooner, and a writer buddy. Also, there are two minds to create a greater illusion. If you are as lucky as me, your buddy will an awesome writer, and you will get better as you work together.

How to we do it?

I can only speak from my own experience, writing with Chantel Seabrook.

For the first is the series, Dark Vortex, we joined together to work on a not-yet finished manuscript. It was a lot of fun bringing something dead back to life and it made the Amazon bestseller list.

Book two of the Mated by Magic Series, Dark Tremor, is much different. We needed to start from scratch.

She and I were both finishing other manuscripts when we paused to work out the plot. Our writing processes differ, yet pinging back and forth on instant message, in less than a day, Chantel and I created a wonderful story line.

First, we decided on our main characters. We chose the younger brother, of the hero in Dark Vortex and sent him out west.

Then, we had to find our heroine and gave her a unique magic power. We gave her a name, a look, and a background. Mind you, by now, Chantel are messaging each other back and forth in a frenzy. Bwa ha ha…..

What if her mother died? What if she is a recluse? What if he intrudes on her space. How do they meet? Do they like each other at first?

I’m not a great one to write an outline but I always have clear charts of goal, motivation, and conflict. And a dastardly nemesis.

She is an out-liner. Together, it was like, WOW.

Chapter by chapter, we ricocheted a document back and forth. Each time one appended onto the other’s imagination, trying to take it up a notch. We laughed and cried on instant messaging.

We needed what Alfred Hitchcock called ‘The McGuffin’. That’s the something that everyone in the story is after. We paused for a lunch break and I came with a ‘gem’ of an idea. A rare stone found only out west. You will need to read the story to find out more.

I lol’ed and researched on Google, while eating my salad.

Soon after, we had a mcGuffin, a bad guy, a love affair, and a conflict of epic proportions.

When we agreed upon the final chapter, after a lot of stuff blowing up and heated sex. we had to pause for a sanity break. Both of us had to finish our current projects.

This week, I was the first to finish as I sent my third Medieval romance to my editor. Chantel is finishing her a third shape-shifter.

I am writing like crazy, but only have a few hours a day. She’s a full time Mom, but is more productive. She will soon catch up and take over where I leave off. We’ll pass the document back and forth, pausing where it just feels right to pause.

I normally write my first draft in dialog, but because we are a team, I am taking the time to add in some scenery. That too, is new for me, and I am getting to be a better, faster, writer.

We will be done another book in half the time it would take us, writing alone.

And…well, it’s just very cool.

So, there you have it, in a nutshell. We don’t, as some critics thought, have one person write one chapter in one POV, and one in the other. We write as one seamless entity. I have no problem passing the ball to her for a few chapters, then taking it back.

That’s all there is.

Good Luck!

Hope you get as lucky as me.

 

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You Can’t Go Home Again

I wanna go home but it’s not there anymore.
The place I lived has been broken by the storm.
I dream in color, the beast at the front door.
I hold it shut, but he comes across the floor.
I can’t sleep, damn you.
I can’t eat, damn you.
And my nights go on forever.
I’ve wandered on and on, a stranger to myself.
And I should know by now
That I can’t go home again. No, I can’t go there again.

I wanna be whole, but am scattered by the wind
I should be strong by now but you have done me in.
My nights are laced with times that should’ve been.
My days go forth, I fight, but will I win?
I can’t work, damn you.
I can’t live, I hate you.
And my days go on forever.
I wander on and on, a stranger to myself.
And I should know by now
That you can’t be home again. No, I can’t be there again.

The cuts you made have healed a thousand times over.
The wounds still bleed perhaps now and forever.
But I still cry, damn you.
And you can’t die, damn you.
Because just one more time
I want you to want me
to come home again.

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Strong Heroines in Romances

 

“The greatest discovery of all time is that a person can change his future by merely changing his attitude.” ~Oprah Winfrey

 

“Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy in it.” ~ Groucho Marx

 

“Man often becomes what he believes himself to be. If I keep on saying to myself that I cannot do a certain thing, it is possible that I may end by really becoming incapable of doing it. On the contrary, if I have the belief that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have it at the beginning.” ~ Mahatma Gandhi

 

And yet we make bestsellers out of romances where the heroine is weak, submissive, and dominated. We may spend seven hours a week, reading, and dreaming in this mindset. WHY?

If you re-read the quotes above and think about it, you might ask yourself, ‘How does this manifest itself into my daily life?’ Am I sabotaging myself?

I believe the answer is a resounding ‘YES!’

I write about alpha males, because, lord help me, I love them. They make great characters.

I write in sex, too, because, to me, sex is a natural part of a relationship. It is not evil or bad.

My heroine is just as strong as the hero, in her own way. She has to work at finding a healthy relationship.

That part of my fiction is like real life.

I had a lot of emotional baggage to deal with, from childhood and yet have been shown ways to overcome. Part of why I write is that I want to share that with you.

I want to give back.

When you finish one of my books, my heart’s desire, is for you to be overflowing with hope, and promise, and ready to work for the happily-ever-after you so truly deserve.

Sending love always,

Stella

 

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