A First Peek at Survival of the Fittest :)

Hello!  As many of you know, Blood Rivalry is complete and published!  Yay!

Well onward and upward, I have begun my newest book Survival of the Fittest.  Survival is an apocalyptic novel set just before, and during, a world ending flu epidemic.  In this first sneak peek, you get to read a very poignant presidential address to the nation.  As I am not a White House speech writer, I would appreciate any thoughts on how to improve it.  I hope you enjoy this first look at Survival as much as I have had writing it.  :)

Write well,
Em

                                                           From Survival of the Fittest
                                                                     by: Emily Fleming

           Sean tossed me the remote as he sat down on the couch.  I sat down next to him as he rested his head on my shoulder.  We were quiet as a color coded map of the United States came onto the screen.  Three states on the map were shaded green indicating that they had confirmed cases of HI-38.  My stomach dropped as I saw only Alabama stood between us and the sickly shade of green.

            “My fellow Americans,” the President began, “we are entering an unprecedented time in American history.  The emersion on the HI-38, human influenza 38, virus has caused us to make some difficult decisions.  I have no doubt that you have seen the effects this disease has had on our brothers and sister to the south.  Our hearts and prayers go out to the Central and Southern American countries that have seen much loss of life.  Here in our county, we have only just seen the beginning of what we fear could be similar casualties.  If not contained, the CDC believes that half, if not more, of our population could be lost.  It is with great sadness, and concern for you, our citizens, that I am mandating the closure of all state borders effective midnight tomorrow morning.”

            The President paused only a second to take a breath, when the press core ignited into action shouting questions and yelling for clarification.

            “I have no further comment at this time.  Any questions that you have regarding quarantine and vaccination processes can be directed to the CDC.  Thank you for your time and God bless America,” the President concluded his address and walked stiffly off the stage followed quickly by the Director of the CDC.

            I held the remote in my hand frozen.  I could not believe what I had just heard, the state boarders would be closed effective almost immediately.  I looked at the clock and did the math…5 hours and 45 minutes.  The President had done the unthinkable.

            The TV switched back over the stunned anchor.  There was a moment of silence before he began to speak again.  Obviously in shock, he started to stutter on about state’s rights and federal authority, but none of it really made much sense.  I didn’t know if that was because he wasn’t speaking coherently or if I wasn’t registering what he was saying.  I was in utter disbelief.

            “Dani?”  Sean’s voice was trying to fight through the fog that was inhabiting my brain.  “Dani? What does it mean?  Are we going to be okay?  Is Dad coming to get us?
   I didn’t know how to answer, so I just took a deep breath and switched on the TV hoping that some 
comforting words would come to mind.  They did not so I just said, “We’re safe Buddy.”  That was 
all I could muster.

Book Research is Fun When You Shoot a Gun

     I've been thinking about book research a lot lately, probably because I am knee deep in it.  With my first novel now published, I dove head long into writing a new, yet unnamed, apocalyptic series.  Although I love this genre, it has required me to do a bit more "formal" research than I had to for my first paranormal, fantasy book since I can't make the world up as go along.  Writing in reality is tough!  Lol!

     After a fair amount of internet research the other night (on cities, locations of Army bases, and the contraction of diseases), I came to the conclusion that I am exceedingly happy to be an author in the time of the internet.  Finding the three largest cities in Mexico and a small boarder town in Texas took me grand total of about 3 minutes.  (Thank you Google Maps!)  I love the library as much as the next girl, but I can't imagine the laborious process research must have been for “preinternet” authors...no thank you!

     And now to the real reason you've clicked your way to my blog today...research as recreation.  In a post-apocalyptic world what is your best friend?  Yes, you guessed it, your firearm.  Well, enter your gun shy, baby squirrel saving author...yours truly.  How am I supposed to realistically write as a gun toting bad ass post-apocalyptic heroine?  Well, I guess I gotta learn how to shoot.  And that my friends was today's adventure.

     A good friend of ours took us out to the shooting range to meet with his buddy Pjete (yes, with a j) ;) who is an instructor.  As I stepped onto the range, I'm not going to lie, I was nervous.  I was trying very hard to play it calm, but if you know me, then you know I was talking a mile a minute!  After going through the safety info, he handed me the orange training pistol.  He talked me through the correct way to stand and I was thinking this isn't so bad, I can totally do this.  Then he showed me how to hold the pistol and aim.  That's when I saw the gun wobbling in my hands.  Mind you this isn't even a real gun yet and here I am shaking like a leaf.  I just kept hoping he didn't notice.

     After a quick lesson on how to load the magazine, I stood back and watched my buddy fire.  I was pretty sure I could do that.  I'm not much of a girlie girl, so how hard could this be?  Pjete looked over at me and told me I was up.  After having to explain how to place my left hand over my right about a bazillion times, (I think I finally got it.)  I fired off the first round.  Honestly, I wasn't exactly sure of what to expect as I fired the first shot.  It was loud of course, but kind of exhilarating too.  You get a serious feeling of power, but it's also a little nerve racking knowing that you're holding something that could seriously harm, or kill someone.  Once the final casing popped from the chamber, I tilted the gun so that he could see it was clear.  I'm pretty sure I had held my breath the entire time because my lungs were happy to take a long slow one as I walked back to the table.  I had survived my first foray into firearms as had everyone else around me.

     Pjete was kind enough to spend an hour and a half taking us through the paces.  The more shots I took the less tense I was.  I can't say I was ever relaxed; in fact I was happy for the continual step by step instruction each time I was up.  Tell me where to stand, where my thumbs go, remind me to chamber the first bullet, and then tell me when to carefully squeeze the trigger....I needed all of it.  I'm sure everything would become easier if I continue to shoot, but baby steps are good.

     Toward the end of the lesson, we got down to the real business at hand, book research!  Since this newest book is set in a time after most of the human population is gone, society isn't as well behaved as it is today.  Lawlessness is rampant and a girl stuck in this mess has to defend herself….right?  Like I said earlier, Danella can take care of herself and knows her way around a gun.  So Pjete had me lie down on my back and shoot like my life depended on it.  No words can describe how that felt.  Just watch the video.

     And just in case that wasn’t enough, I got to walk up to an “attacker” shoot them down and then shoot while retreating too. 

     Although today was all about book research, I had a lot of fun.  It was really neat to try something new that I probably never would have tried if I didn’t need to for the book.  I might have even found a new recreational activity that I never in a million years would have thought I’d enjoy.  A big thank you to Pjeter Berishaj with Black Mountain Defense, he was an awesome, incredibly patient, instructor.

Excerpt From Chapters 9 and10

Well, it's been a while since I've put an excerpt up here, so here's a bit for you to read.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I liked to write it.  Oh how I love scenes with Lizabeth and Gabriel!!!  :) 

Write well!

Emily

                                                                    End of Chapter 9

            Christian hesitantly handed over my things and turned to walk back to the Jeep.  Gabriel quickly closed the door behind him. As soon as I heard it latch, I collapsed into him.  He carried me over to the couch and sat down next to me.  Every ounce of anger that I had had from him leaving me at school alone was gone.  My stomach was still turning, I was in extreme pain and I wanted his help.

“What really happened Lizabeth?” he asked in a no nonsense tone.

“It’s a long story,” I said, “but I was in the library and I felt that feeling of being watched again.  I thought I heard something in the balcony upstairs and I knew that if I could just concentrate my senses on it I would be able figure out what it was, what was scaring me.  It was so strange though.”  Then I had to stop speaking, I curled my knees up to my chest.  My lungs burned and stomach cramped.  I could feel it beginning to heave again.  “Please?” I looked up at Gabriel begging him, “Please, just a drop.  I know it’s the only thing that will make this feeling go away.”  Tears were welling up in my eyes and I knew he would never agree.

“So that’s what caused this. You were ready to feed, all your senses were focused on one person…”

“Yes, and then the rotten smell of death hit me.  I can’t get it out Gabriel; it’s all I can sense.  I just need a little bit.”

“Absolutely not,” he snarled turning his head away.

The longer this feeling consumed me, the more obsessed I became with the thought of it.  There is nothing in the world sweeter than your maker’s blood.  I was sure that nothing could push away the death that I had taken into my body, except Gabriel’s blood.  I yearned for it.  It had been a very long time since I had asked him.  I had only tasted him once, when I was turned, but for years after I begged him for just one more taste.  He would never agree because he wanted me to stay with him by my own free will, not because I lusted for the taste of him.  It was true that for a time I would fantasize about how I would get it from him, but he was older, stronger and wiser.  He told me that the feeling would pass and over time it did.  I learned that human blood could be a respectable substitute, but today I had lost all reasonable thought.  I had to have his blood.  The death inside me had to be stopped.

“When was the last time you fed?” he asked.

“Last week,” I said dismissing him.  “I’m not hungry Gabriel, something inside me isn’t right.  It’s as if I’m dying from the inside out.  Help me,” I begged.  Tears began to spill out of my eyes.  I put my head down on my knees as another wave of pain washed through my body.

I felt Gabriel’s arm wrap around my body and pull me onto his lap.  I unfolded my legs and looked up into his eyes as I let my head fall back into the crook of his arm.  He held me just like the night he turned me.  My body lay across his lap, he had one arm under my neck and the other was wrapped around my body holding me close to his.  He looked deeply into my eyes and said, “Just this once.”

I saw his teeth flash as his bit into his wrist.  His blood began to pool in the bite mark immediately making a striking contrast between his ivory, white skin and the bright scarlet liquid seeping from it.  I reached my hands toward his arm to pull him closer, but he held them down.  He was in control of this, not me.  My mouth began to water in anticipation of the sweet nectar my maker was about to share with me.

“Just this once,” he repeated in my thoughts over and over.  He brought his wrist closer to me as the blood began to drip dangerously close to falling to the floor.  My heart nearly stopped, not wanting a droplet of it to be wasted.  A quiver shot through my body, I wanted it…now.  The smell was intoxicating.  It was a delicate mix of a fragrant floral bouquet and the sweetest honey you’ve ever encountered.  He paused a moment to look into my eyes.  I could tell that he did not want this.  His eyes were sad as he placed his wrist against my lips.

I was euphoric, the taste was beyond explanation.  Unable to grab his wrist and press it to my mouth, I lifted my head to make as much contact between my lips and his skin as possible.  I drank quickly at first, and then slowed to savor every last second.  His blood was cool, almost cold, in stark contrast to that of a human’s, but the taste and the intimate feeling of feeding from the one who turned me was indescribable. His blood slid effortlessly down my throat as if it knew exactly where to travel in my body.  The pain in my stomach and the burning in my lungs began to ease instantly.  I was in paradise.  Gabriel wouldn’t let me drink for long, only enough to help me heal, but nothing would have been enough for me.  I could have stayed there, like that, with him forever.

Just as quickly as it began, it was over.  Gabriel effortlessly twisted his wrist away from my lips.  I had been careful not to bite onto him knowing that if I had, he would have ended the exchange immediately.  I tried to struggle free hoping for one last drop, but he was too strong for me.  He was holding me down gently, but firmly.  I could go nowhere.  He wiped the remaining blood on a handkerchief as I desperately watched the wound seal itself.

I closed my eyes and turned away from Gabriel, I knew that I had forced him to do something that he did not want to do.

Chapter 10

We stayed on the couch for what seemed like forever.  I was intoxicated by the experience.  Completely relaxed and wholly Gabriel’s at that moment, I could feel his blood moving through my body and it electrified me. Right then, I would have done anything for him, with him.  He asked nothing of me however.  In fact he didn’t even speak.  His arms were still wrapped around me holding me tightly, as if he were afraid to let go.  I felt safe, like nothing could touch me; I was with my savior, my angel.  He had given me the gift of this life and we had just relived that gift again together.  I belonged only to Gabriel.

I was the one who spoke first, “Thank you.”

“Do you feel better?” he asked without emotion.

“Yes, completely,” I gushed, rolling over to gaze into his dark eyes.  I reached my hand up to his face and stroked it gently.  Breathing in his sweet scent, I pressed my body closer, deeper into his.  I put my arms around his waist hugging him and buried my face into his chest.   I never wanted to let go, ever. 

“Oh Lizabeth,” he hissed, “This is exactly why I would never do this.  The emotions you’re feeling aren’t real.  My blood has clouded your judgment.”

“I’m not hostage to my emotions Gabriel; I’m just seeing things more clearly than I have, maybe ever.  This, sitting here, being with you.  This is what I want.   It’s what you’ve always wanted too.”

“Lizabeth, that’s enough,” he said standing up.  My head slid off his lap and onto the couch abruptly.

I was still so blissful that I hardly noticed that he had moved.  “Enough of what?” I prodded.  “You’ve always wanted me to feel this way about you and now you have it.  You don’t know what you want Gabriel.”  I was annoyed with him.  How could he act one way with me for as long as I had known him and then just stop feeling that way when I was just figuring it all out in my head?

“Not like this Lizabeth.  Not like this,” he said shaking his head.  “I need you to want to be with me.”

“I do want to be with you Gabriel.  How much more obvious do I need to make it?” I questioned, frustrated that he wasn’t accepting my advances.  I got up off the couch and started after him.  “Look at me,” I demanded, “Gabriel, look at me.”

He turned around slowly.  I could tell that he was fighting a battle within himself.  Which side would win; his moral side or the side that desired me too strongly for words?  His eyes were dull.  I could tell that he was tired; tired of the internal turmoil I caused him.  Our heightened emotions were difficult to handle and I could only imagine the amount of restraint it took for him to deny his feelings for me every minute of every day.

“This isn’t you Beth.  You’re not thinking clearly.  I just need to be alone,” he said as he walked toward his room.

I rushed past him and positioned myself in his doorway so that he could not pass.

“Lizabeth move, now,” he said growing angry.  His internal battle was becoming too much to handle as I continued to push myself on him.

“Or what?” I shot back as I pushed my face closer to his.  I brushed my cheek slowly along his and exhaled ever so slightly into his ear.  Continuing to grasp hold of the door jam, I stood on tip toe and leaned closer to him squarely pressing my breasts against his chest.  He closed his eyes and I heard him moan slightly with his next breath.  I was winning.

“This isn’t right Lizabeth.  This isn’t how I want this to happen.”

“It’s okay Gabriel, you are what I want,” I whispered.  “This is what we both want.”

He slammed his hands onto the wall on either side of the doorway.  The wood frame splintered and plaster crumbled to the floor.  I didn’t move.  I was not going to let him scare me away.  He was angry with his emotions, not me.  I rested my forehead on his, breathing in his breath.  I wanted this more than ever.  A shudder tore through my body as I awaited his next move.

“No,” he roared slamming his fist against the wall, “get out of my way.”

Dreams, Fantasies and Writer's Block Too!

               

               Ah writer’s block… I used to swear that I never got it and that used to be true.  As long as I could get some words on the page I was good.  However, that was before I took on such an enormous creative writing project.  I’ve done my fair share of academic writing without much trouble and my dips into creative writing have never been on this scope before.   Well, needless to say writer’s block and I have been introduced.

                Let me take a moment to explain what I really mean by writer’s block.  I’m not that girl that stares at the screen and has no idea what to write.  I know where my story is going and how to get there (often when I’m writing my story takes an unanticipated turn).  When I get writer’s block, I’m the girl who sits staring at the computer writing and deleting writing and deleting.  What I’m struggling with is my character’s relationships.  This brings me back to a previous entry when I talked about my “perfect” characters “Why are you so Perfect? Oh Right I Created You”.

                My main character, Lizabeth, is very much me and for some reason I am just enamored with Gabriel.  That would be fine except for the fact that Lizabeth is in a love triangle with another boy Christian.  I am able to write scenes between Lizabeth and Gabriel with ease. The dialogue flows effortlessly.  Scenes with Christian however, are like pulling teeth.  I go over and over what should be an easy scene setting up their new, blossoming relationship.  How often do you get to know someone for the first time?  There should be plenty for them to talk about, right?  Ug!  Christian is my writer’s block.

                For the last couple of months I’ve been trying to figure out ways to make writing Christian’s scenes with Lizabeth easier with no avail until last night.  I had this dream.   You know the kind…the how would my life have been different if I chose this instead of that.   Drawing on previous relationships, in my dream, I did something that I would never do in real life. (Oh look…another theme “stepping outside of my comfort zone”)   I think the word fantasy is a little too strong of a word, but we’ll run with it for now. 

This dream helped me figure out that I am comfortable with Gabriel’s character.  Gabriel’s relationship with Lizabeth represents the part of me that is grounded and “inside the box”.  So where does that leave Christian’s relationship?  Christian’s relationship with Lizabeth represents something unfamiliar and exciting….something (like in my dream) I would never really do in real life.  Writing scenes with Gabriel are easy, because he is the choice I made.  Christian’s character is uncharted territory for me, the choice I didn’t make.

Having that new understanding of what these characters represent in my book, even just for me at the subconscious level, has broken through my writer’s block with Lizabeth’s scenes with Christian.  Well, at least for now.  J  When I am writing scenes for Christian I look at them as an adventure, an exploration into the unknown.  I now look forward to writing them because now I can explore their relationship and her choice, unlike mine, is trending to the unfamiliar.  It’s kind of fun to watch through her eyes as she makes a choice I never did.  I enjoy writing her putting herself out there with Christian and trying to ignore her fear of being rejected.  It’s all a journey….a wild one!

Write well!

Emily

The Most Amazing Feeling in the World!

          Blog much?  Apparently I don’t, at least not lately.  I have had this blog post in my head for a couple of months, but I haven’t had enough time to just sit and type it.  Honestly, this is a little less about my novel and a little more about writing screen plays.  I think it still fits though…enjoy!

           I have always been a girl who likes to live in her comfort zone.  So when a good friend of mine asked me to help write a short for the 48 Film Challenge I shied away from the invite at first.  Well, that’s not exactly true.  My first response was, “Sure that sounds like a lot of fun.”  And it did, but as the big weekend got closer and closer I found myself not so excited about stepping out of my safe place.  The only person I would know on this project was my friend and I would have to drive home from a city I had never been too pretty late at night.  (All out of my comfort zone….I have a tight group of friends that I see often, but I am kinda shy in a new group.)

           Fast forward to the day of the big event, I get a text from my friend asking me if I was going to attend.  At first I wavered back and forth about what I was going to do.  Then, I did something that was really out of the ordinary for me.  I went for.   I agreed to be part of the team.  I had a moment of, “if you never try anything new how are you going to grow as a person?”  Plus, I was going to miss out on a once in a lifetime opportunity.

           What a crazy night it was too.  The team was comprised of a mix match of friends of friends of friends, but we all seemed to work well together.  Emily stepping outside of the box is not the story here though, so I will move on.

           The story here lies on the night of the screening of the movies.  I had written the dialogue for the major scenes and earned the first writing credit (cool) which was my first screen writing credit ever.  I was really excited to see how it all turned out.  After all, I had written the words, but the other aspects (direction, photography, acting, editing etc.) were about to come together on the screen before my eyes.

           The anticipation was killing me and as the title was projected on the screen I could feel my stomach drop.  Then the actors began speaking my words….MY WORDS!  What an amazing feeling!  Every hair on my body was standing on end.  The words I had written were coming out of someone else’s mouth and there were good!  The actor’s put their own spin/inflection on them of course, but they were still mine.  Something that I created, and had played out in my head, was now being seen by other people.  My characters were now alive.

           This blog doesn’t do the feeling justice, but it was amazing.  It was an unbelievable feeling to see my work become something more than just words on paper.  I can’t wait to get that feeling again. (Hint hint you know who you are!)

In case you care to check it out here’s the You Tube link…

  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w4j66gqgtwc&noredirect=1

Does a Major Revelation Mean a Major Revision?

     There's something that I've been struggling with as I've been writing this book.  What is the message?  At first I really thought it was just a pure story of entertainment, so does it really need to be anything more than that?  However, as I think about all of the really good books that I've read they connect with you at a greater level than just pure entertainment.
     Now that's not to say that there are a number of good books out there that are still good, but are just an enjoyable read.  Just because that's what they were written to be doesn't make them inferior.  The funny thing is, that when I began writing that's what I thought I was writing.
     Flash forward now to a a few weeks ago when I was really stuck at one part.  My character is struggling between two relationships in her life.  She's truly torn between which to choose.  As I've said before, I've had an incredibly difficult time writing scenes between her and her love interest (well, I guess they're both her love interests , but writing about her budding relationship with the human has had me stuck....alot!).  I actually put aside the book for a good week or so because I really had no idea where to go.  There was even one point at which I thought I should just thrown in the towel.
     Luckily for me, I met up with another author friend who pointed me in the right direction.  We sat down for a cup of coffee planning on just going over a few pages of each other's work.  Our conversation turned to my block on where to go next.  As girls do, we talked and talked (I even had hard time articulating what it was that was troubling me about the relationship with the human character), but she finally said to me,  "Emily, you have to figure out what it is that she is struggling with. What is it that she sees in each of these characters?"
     Then it struck me, this book isn't just a pure entertainment book, it's a book about finding your place in life and about living with the choices that you have made even if they have caused you to loose something you cared deeply about.  Lizabeth had the opportunity to choose and she made her choice, now she has to live with it.  She lost her humanity and she spends much of the book looking for ways to restore it.  That's what Gabriel and Christian represent.  Gabriel represents her choice and Christian represents the humanity that she lost.
     Wow, what a revelation to have HALF WAY through the book.  I'm hoping that this has been in my subconscious all along and that this theme has somehow worked its way in without me knowing about it. (which I think would be better anyway)  In the long run though, it has made writing scenes between Lizabeth and Christian much easier.
     I made a promise to myself (on some advice from yet another author friend) that I would not go back and revise until I finish the book, (This is getting harder and harder by the way.) but now I just hope that when I go back and reread I won't have to rewrite the first half of the book to follow the theme that I now realize I'm writing about.  Oh well, live and learn I guess!

Write well,
Emily

Get Some Confidence Girl!

     I've been writing this novel now for over 4 years.  Although to be honest, I've really only been serious about it for the last 6 months.  I've always enjoyed writing, partly because I was always surrounded by literature as a child.  You see, both of my parents are writers, journalists, by trade.  My mom began her career in journalism at The Detroit Free Press as a copy girl, moved to The Macomb Daily as a reporter (where she met my dad) and then moved out of journalism and into public relations. My dad worked at the Macomb Daily as a reporter.  He still works there today, but now as an editor.
     I often wonder what the the ability to write well should be attributed to.  Is early exposure to books, a solid education or just something that you're born with?  Throughout my education, I was always told I was a "good" writer.  I"ll be honest, school was pretty easy for me.  I never got great grades, but I also never really tried.  I earned A's and B's in English class without much thought.  In high school I was placed into advanced placement English.  I enjoyed the class, but I did have to think a little bit.  I passed the AP exam and received college credit for the course.  In college I bounced around a bit, but ended up back at my love...writing.  I earned a BA in English from  Michigan State University.
     There have been plenty of times in my lifetime that I have been told that I am good at writing, so why is it that I am such a wuss about sharing it?  I can sit here and write out my life's story for anyone on the web to read no problem, but the second you want to read part of the book I've been writing I freak out!  If I ever want to make it at this author gig, I'm going to have to get over this reader related stage fright.
     I guess it all boils down to this.  I have put my heart and soul into this book.  I have delved into emotional places that I thought were lost to me. The characters I have created are bit and pieces of me and everyone I've ever met. Basically it's the sum total of my existence.  If I put it out there and it's criticised, then I feel personal criticised.
     On the other hand, when someone likes my work I am elated, blown away.  I still can't believe that people actually like what I've put on paper.  Last night, at the writing group I attend, my stomach was is in knots.  Now, no one in this group is unkind.  They always give constructive criticism without telling you, "wow, that sucks," but I am always terrified when I share anyway.  Go figure.  I brought the part of my novel where the reader sees Lizabeth hunt for the first time.  The first step is for someone else in the group to read your piece out loud.  (Ah, terrifying)  Then the group comments on it and then you can ask any questions you might have for them.  The group is a diverse group age wise, so I'm always worried how a young adult vampire novel will go over.  Last night (and every other night), it went over well.  They told me that my writing was tremendous.  "This isn't what I read.  I don't like vampire books, but your is writing is tremendous."  What a compliment.
     Maybe one day all of this will sink in and I won't be so scared to share my work.  For now, it still seems a bit safer to share with people that I don't know well.  Hopefully I can let someone closer to me read it soon.  It's an uncomfortable thought though just because this whole process has been so personal.  I think I should just shoot straight to New York Times best seller, then I won't know who's reading what.  :)

Write well,

Emily