Currently working on: Post-release week enervation
First, a couple past winners:
A pair of Possession in Pearl earrings to blackroze from the post on what we do when we aren’t writing. (Feeling guilty about not writing!)
And thanks, everybody, for the FORGED OF SHADOWS release week good wishes. The copy of Book 1 or Book 2 goes to elaing8.
Lastly (and sorry, this offer is open only to US residents) I have ugly, outdated postage to burn. If you’d like a shiny new bookmark with Liam’s denim-clad buttocks gracing the front along with a glossary of @1 terms on the back, email me your snail-mail addy and I’ll drop kick one your way.
Email me at jessa at jessaslade dot com.
Now, onto the topic at hand… We’re supposed to talk about our cleverest writing moment. And I can’t come up with a damned thing. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I think I’m exceedingly clever. And the conceit is perhaps one of my deepest personal failings. Nothing amuses me more than me.
I particularly like word play. Puns, double entendres, extended metaphors. The deeper and more convoluted, the better I like it. Unfortunately, this is a terrible trait in a writer. Worse than shoegazer rock and paintings all in one color. Self-indulgent art ranks somewhere near donning a wet bathing suit on my list of annoyances to avoid ESPECIALLY when I’m the one indulging.
Luckily, my critique partners call me out on the worst offenses. Shout out to Joey, who once told me, “I was having so much fun reading what you wrote I had no idea what you said.” Ouch! After my CPs finish eviscerating my arrogance, my editor politely line edits the remnants that somehow slipped by. Even while I’m sighing mournfully, I’m deleting.
I never want to be Clever Hans, the Amazing Counting Horse, believing his own press.
I think my cleverest writing moment — and I learn this over and over, with every page I write — is when I stop being clever and let the story be itself.
So, what’s the most ridiculous thing you ever wrote? Feel free to go back to your high school diary. Always good stuff there. In honor of the end of the school year, here’s a sample of my early (very early) writing that I thought was particularly clever at the time:
Where Teachers Go
until next year
down the halls
unplug the teachers
let out the air
into the closet
until next year