Hidden in Plain Sight

I think I’m at the end of the Hidden in Plain Sight series, and that’s part of the reason I am facing writer’s block. I have been with that series for over ten years, and my involvement in that world has been extensive.

My books involve an ecocollective in the middle of Illinois, an experiment in living with a small carbon footprint, on a working farm, with principles of pacifism. But the place has secrets. A fight for humanity on its grounds. Two trees that give people inexplicable talents. Immortal beings and their long-lived offspring. Flying cats. Barn Swallows’ Dance is, necessarily, hidden in plain sight.

I have written seven books about the world. Gaia’s Hands introduces us to the collective and its miracle food forest, which grew up literally overnight with Jeanne Beaumont’s talent. Apocalypse pits the pacifists of Barn Swallows’ Dance against three immortals who want to end humanity. Reclaiming the Balance visits justice, as even the utopian collective falls into prejudice and discrimination. Avatar of the Maker involves a young adult who is called to stop a battle among immortals that could decimate the world. Carrying Light takes the reader to the edge of the riots that will ultimately bring down the United States, while Whose Hearts are Mountains explores the world on the other side of those battles. Finally, Hiding in Plain Sight features an early glimpse of the immortals as one of them falls in love with a human.

One of the important themes of the books is relationships. Not only the romantic ones, of which there are many — the 6000 year old linkage of Adam and Lilith, the odd couple Jeanne and Josh, the star-crossed lovers Alice and William — but the everyday relationships of the members of Barn Swallows’ Dance. The characters, and how they relate to each other, are important.

Barn Swallows’ Dance is almost itself a character. Part utopia, part cauldron of preternatural turmoil, it serves as a uniting principle of the stories. (Only the prequel, Hiding in Plain Sight, does not feature the collective).

This is the world I am leaving behind. It hurts, but I don’t know what else I can write in the series. Nothing is speaking to me. I feel like I have explored everyone’s stories.

What can I do to top this?

Hanging Around with My Imaginary Friends

man sits as if hugging the person sitting next to him, but no one is visible – one line art vector. concept imaginary friend

In the Hidden in Plain Sight series, I have been writing enough books and short stories that the characters have become my imaginary friends. My husband and I play with questions like “What would Luke say about this?” or “Would Josh do this?” I occasionally ask my characters questions (what I call ‘interrogating’) to see what they tell me about themselves. I have backstories (often written in the short stories) that make the characters more complex.

I have two novels published (Gaia’s Hands and Apocalypse), one about to be published (Reclaiming the Balance), and three to be published in the future (Avatar of the Maker, Carrying Light, and Whose Hearts are Mountains.) There’s also a set of short stories out there and another in the works. There’s one more secret to be revealed, and I’m working out how to make it into a full novel. And then I don’t know if I have any more stories about that world.

I don’t know what I will write about if I feel like I’ve written too much in the Hidden in Plain Sight world. I could invent another world and write a while in it. I do have one novel with a different world (or a different angle on this current world like Hidden in Plain Sight is) and I suppose there may be more stories there. But I don’t want to leave my imaginary friends!

Finding Inspiration for a New Book

I’m just about to where I will put Carrying Light into a drawer to mellow for a while. I’m repairing immediately obvious problems, including cutting a subplot out that wasn’t adding anything and modifying some wordy expository stuff (telling, not showing) at the beginning. Today will be looking at continuity of the main relationship. I got so immersed in the book I don’t want to let it go. For a few weeks, it was my reality.

It’s time to pick up a new project. But what? I feel singularly uninspired. I have a book waiting for me, but no desire to write it. Richard (my husband) gave me an idea for a book but I definitely see no reason to write a book that feels like a contractual obligation in my series. I don’t write the next Kringle book until November; it’s my annual NaNoWriMo ritual.

Oh, but there’s another book I need to write … it’s in the Hidden in Plain Sight series, and it tells of why there are only about 300 Archetypes and thousands of different ethnicity groups in the world. (There should be Archetypes to represent most, if not all, of the groups.) This was revealed in a previous book with a lingering question. I’m not sure what to do with that book idea, because as momentous as the implications are, I don’t know how to get to the momentous part. The action goes fast and then there’s the revelation, and then there’s a lot of heaviness afterward. There’s a lot of feeling, but not a lot of there there. It could be a short story, but can a short story carry that much of the secret of the Archetypes? I think not.

I suppose I could take a break. But it’s the middle of the summer, and I am ahead on my classes. I work on them in the morning, and then work on writing. The ritual helps me with my moods and with my productivity.

So what am I going to write? Toss me some ideas!

Writing in a Perilous Time

It’s an edgy time in the US, especially if you are part of the population that doesn’t want Trump to win. I don’t want Trump to win. The news is discouraging to Democrats, and many are urging Biden to drop out of the race, which would be a big setback for the Democratic Party — but so might staying in.

I can’t predict what will happen, but I can get anxious. And I am anxious about the political landscape. The United States usually muddles along even in bad times. I’m not sure how well we will muddle now.

How do I deal with my anxiety? I write a novel about the future economic and social collapse of the United States. That’s the book I’ve been working on, Carrying Light. Writing it has been a cathartic downer, to be honest. The collective Barn Swallows’ Dance has been holed up listening to the signs of a cataclysm from the radio as the tensions of their community boil over. They witness what happens when various factions pour gasoline on a million small fires.

Meanwhile, Barn Swallows’ Dance is facing their own crisis. They cannot be self-sufficient in an era of shipping disruptions and food shortages. They depend largely on purchases of wheat and legumes to feed the 65-person collective. To make things worse, their population is aging, and they have not found people to replace members lost by attrition. Because of their secrets, they cannot afford to let people in who cannot handle the world of Barn Swallows’ Dance. Only people who can accept preternatural members, a sentient garden, strange gifts among the populace, and a true story about the end of humanity can be trusted.

It’s a hell of a time to write this novel, which answers a question of “how bad can it get?” It can get much worse than at the moment, and my collective has to get through the darkness and out the other side. Writing this has not been an escape, but a weight upon my shoulders that never lets up.

Now that the main writing is done, I will look this over one more time and put it in a drawer to settle. And I will not write another book this heavy anytime soon.

Glutton for Punishment (figuratively)

I finished Carrying Light yesterday, promising myself I would put it in a figurative drawer for some time before going back to it. (By ‘figurative’, I mean putting it in a file on my computer labeled ‘drawer’.) Instead, I woke up this morning and with a burning desire to read through it and maybe do a preliminary edit. I literally (i.e. figuratively) jumped out of bed with the intent to edit.

I wonder if I’m just not ready to let this story go, or if I just want to work on something (anything!) and I don’t have a next project yet. But today I’ll sit (figuratively) with the current story.

I am SO done with this book.

I have finished the very rough draft of Carrying Light. Because of revelations I had while writing, some loose ends got fleshed out and worked on and rearranged. But this book will need lots of work.

Now I think I am going to cry. No real reason; this book put me through the wringer.

Some Remedies for Procrastination

It’s Monday, and I’m not feeling motivated. I spent the morning working on class-related work and got quite a bit done. I promised myself I would write on my book in the afternoon if I got my classwork done. Now it’s afternoon, I am two and a half chapters from done with this book, and I do not know where I’m going.

I’m procrastinating by reading Facebook, and by writing this (although I consider this more of a warmup than a procrastination.) What can I do to keep from procrastinating?

Break the task down into smaller tasks. I have about 1000-1500 words to write to finish this chapter. Can I break this down into three groups of 500?
Put a motivator at the end of this task. If I get done, I can … play on the Internet. Or nap. Napping sounds fun.
Start doing the task for 15 minutes, promising myself that if I am still not feeling it, I can quit.

These are my go-tos for procrastination. See you in 15 minutes.

Hidden in Plain Sight Series Plans

I’m three chapters away from finishing the first draft of Carrying Light, after which I am going to put it in a dark drawer (figuratively) for three months or more before I look at it again. To be sure, I don’t need a final copy for at least two years. I have two books that would get published ahead of it, Reclaiming the Balance (hopefully Jan. 1, 2025) and The Avatar of the Maker (hopefully Jan. 1, 2026). I also have one book that would be published after it, Whose Hearts are Mountains (January 1, 2028 if all works well). What will influence the publication dates is my cover artist, because I trust her vision on the books better than anyone else’s (she’s my niece).

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The next project is going to be a final edit of Reclaiming the Balance. I’m still on the fence about publishing that one. It’s a different novel about the collective known as Barn Swallows’ Dance. It centers on a relationship between a human with a vengeful Archetype ex-boyfriend and a potential, unique partner. The conflict is in her relationship and in the collective trying to prevent her kidnapping. And in the dichotomy between the collective’s progressive attitudes and their very real prejudice. There’s action, kidnapping, a battle, and an attack. I just hope it’s not too “brainy”.

Publishing the Hidden in Plain Sight pieces (all the above-named) is nerve-wracking; I have a lot more invested in those than I do the Christmas romances. The Kringle Chronicles series is fluffy and fun. The Hidden in Plain Sight series is more serious (with glimmers of humor; I can’t go without that) and sometimes even dark. It’s where I ask about the possibilities ahead.

I will publish them eventually, because what’s the good of asking about the possibilities ahead if nobody reads them?

A Little Reassurance in Pantsing

Today, I got reassurance about pantsing (aka “flying by the seat of my pants”). A reminder: I’ve been pantsing Carrying Light because I didn’t like the outline I set up for it. I found the outline rather weak and not supportive of any real depth, so I’ve been writing without the outline. As I’ve said before, I hate writing like that because I feel like I’m just making things up as I go along.

I encountered something that made me feel a lot better about this method, though. A book I wrote a few years ago in the Hidden in Plain Sight series (it’s got two books or maybe three ahead of it for publication) is one of my favorites. I had to go back to it because the end of Carrying Light refers to the flashback events in Whose Hearts are Mountains. I needed to know the names of six people killed in the siege on the University of Illinois campus. (Yes, I trashed my alma mater.)

What I discovered is that I did not empty the trash in the Scrivener program, and that I clearly edited a great deal of the book, to where I found more pages in the trash than in the book. I hadn’t remembered that until looking at all the material in the garbage.

I remember now what happened — I got a developmental editor involved, and she did not make the suggestions that led me to the drastic remodel of the book. I finished her developmental edits (which were excellent) and then realized that the story needed better flow. Then I completely gutted the story and reorganized it.

I will doubtless do the same with Carrying Light once I set it in a drawer for a while. I don’t know if it will require as much attention, because I’ve learned something about plotting from tearing apart Whose Hearts are Mountains.

I got this!

Short Break

I’m writing at home today; trying out another day to see if I can get my word count up without going to Starbucks.

So far, so good. I wrote a 750-word breakup argument, which was a lot of fun. It’s a reminder that I need to get more of the relationship between Forrest and Sage into the book. Remember, I’m pantsing this book (aka “Flying by the seat of my pants”), which means I figure out what’s wrong in retrospect.

I only have four chapters after this before Carrying Light is done. I could happy cry. When I’m done, I’m going to put the novel into a figurative desk drawer to see if fresh eyes will find all the changes I need to make. And then what? I have a novel to re-edit for January 1 publication if I don’t chicken out. It’s a somewhat unusual novel with very different focus from the previous Hidden in Plain Sight novel Apocalypse. I have a couple ideas for novels, but I’m not happy with either one of them. Maybe it’s time to write more short stories. But about what?

People have suggested elven detectives in the manner of Howard the Duck, a battalion of squirrels, and a library run by sentient marmots. These will not happen.