My Writing Journey (unabridged)

I was never one of those precocious, assertive kids who knew what they wanted to be at age five. It took me quite a while to figure out what I really loved, and that was to write.

I love stories, have loved them since my dad brought me to the Central Lending Library every Sunday (back when it was still at Stamford Rd, instead of Bras Basah) ever since I'd learnt to read and my kindergarten teacher told my dad I had the potential to start reading earlier than my peers. (Maybe that was a ploy and she told all the parents that so the kids in her class would be early starters, I don't know. But let's not get cynical here.)

I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who share my love for stories, and who probably love them more than I do (goodness knows I'm a picky reader). But despite how much I love to read, how much I enjoyed English lessons and how it was the class I was most enthusiastic about, being a writer didn't occur to me until I was eleven. I had never considered the possibility of creating stories myself, stories that I would love and would want to share with the world, stories that chronicled the changes in me and the way I regarded the world.



Maybe it was because I never got sufficient encouragement that helped me believe I - like anyone who believes him- or herself capable of it - could weave an entire story out of my limited imagination. But when I was eleven, change came in the form of my English teacher, Mr Martin Chan. Now, I don't mean for this to turn into a thanks-giving post, but hitherto, I've believed that he was the one who, if you wish, ignited the flame of passion in me for creative writing. (Sorry for the horrible cliche!) He introduced me to Shakespeare, through giving us a watered-down version of Macbeth (which remains my favourite play to date), and recommended stories like Lord of the Rings (even playing the cartoon version for us) and Lord of the Flies (which remains my favourite book to date, no lie - Golding is a genius). He made us practice flash-writing, which are exercises where you write a passage where the action or emotion are the most intense. It's a drill for concise and tight writing, and after that we'd share our writing with our peers, and I felt like I learnt so much. English lessons in primary 5 and 6 were so rich.

And that was where I fell for creative writing - head-first and hard. I started with writing journal entries because then, I was under the influence of Princess Diaries, which I had started reading. I would turn up to class with a notebook under my textbook and scribble furiously about everything that was going on around me and within me.


With the Budding Writers story-writing contest that Mr Chan encouraged me and several others to take part in - along with other writing contests - I began to appreciate the craft of writing. How do you look at things the way other people can't? How can you express the way in which you look at things? How do you make that way connect with your readers? The first complete story I wrote was of the detective/mystery genre, because we were all into Nancy Drew then and plot-driven stories were easier to write. I didn't win, of course - my writing was hardly any good - but the experience of working on a story, crafting a plot, thinking of the appropriate words that would convey the meanings concisely, was enough of a prize.

When I went to secondary school, I continued writing, and wrote several trial novels, which I often begged my friends to read and tell me how they felt about it. I remember how Yvonne liked reading my diaries (I never really had much to hide, so keeping a diary wasn't really about secrecy to me) and Stace and the rest would ask me about my progress for the novel I was working on then. All through secondary school, I kept notebooks and filled them up sooner than I expected. In upper secondary, I started watching The OC and attempted to write a third-person POV series about a girl who goes to a hoity-toity school. And then the idea for When the Lilies Turn Orange (then, it was still titled An Old Scent) came about, raw and unpolished and waiting for me to tap into its reserve that was overflowing with potential and possibilities. Because of the O'levels, I only properly began working on it in JC. In the meantime, I wrote short stories, tried my hand at poetry (which will never see the light of day, if I can help it), and read, read, read, taking in ideas and imbibing various writing styles and understanding, step by step, how writing, such an arbitrary art, works.

In JC, I was swamped with schoolwork. I was lucky if I had time to think about my stories, let alone write them. So I only properly immersed myself in Lilies after the A'levels. In the three months after A's, I worked relentlessly on Lilies, so addicted to the writing process was I. I brought my notebook and pen everywhere (that was when I was into walking, and trekked all over Singapore for the fun of it), and wrote, wrote, wrote. I even woke up at 3a.m. to write till dawn broke. My dad was so worried I was losing it.

I consider Lilies to be my first official novel, one that I'm satisfied with enough to want to see it published.

Towards the end of Lilies, the idea for Bedful of Moonlight came half-formed. But despite finishing Lilies, I couldn't tear myself away from Wroughton, the private estate in which the story takes place; I couldn't bear to part with the characters - Raven, Connell, Reilly, Tate, and the motley crew. So I set Moonlight in Wroughton as well, with main characters completely disparate from Raven and Connell. This time, the going was tougher, maybe because all the research on writing I'd done while writing Lilies had left me feeling more cautious, more stifled (in a way), about approaching my work-in-progress (WIP). I was left confused, bewildered even, as to what my characters really wanted and how they were trying to go about getting it, and how they changed in the end as a result of doing so. How could I make them seem real, with genuine flaws that we can all relate to and therefore sympathise with? How can I make their motivations strong enough to fuel the story?

While I was sorely dismayed - depressed even - after completing Lilies, I felt a sense of relief after finishing up Moonlight. All that with a huge dose of satisfaction, of course. But finishing a story leaves you bereft, exhausted, over-the-moon, exhilarated and relieved all at once. I call it the writer's high. That's what I experienced when I first started writing, when my characters surprised even me by saying the things they said, doing the things they did, and thinking the way they did. That's what I experienced when the words flowed from me so quickly I barely had time to tap on my keys to keep up. That's what I experienced when I wrote from 9am to 3pm once (when I was in secondary school, working on High Grounds), and looked up to realise it was 3pm and my stomach was growling.

My third attempt wasn't quite as smooth. If I thought Bedful of Moonlight was a bumpy ride, Mint was a road riddled with potholes and death traps. I had the setting, I had the characters, but I just couldn't dig deep enough into them to find out where the conflict lay and where their motivations clashed. I had committed the mistake many amateur writers make, and that is plunge headlong into a novel without laying out the basic structure of it. Much as you're excited to delve into writing your next novel, you have to do what you need to, even though it's painful. You have to find out what drives your novel, and know very clearly how your character changes - for better or worse - by the end of the story. All these I have learnt from working on Mint. I abandoned it at page 166, halfway through the story. Perhaps someday I will return to it. But for now, I'm thankful for the experience regardless of the time and effort spent (sunk costs, as any economist would declare!) on it. For now, I'm thankful for what it has taught me.

So right now, while working on my current WIP, Red December Skies, and writing short stories on the days where the words just can't flow. It's a much smoother writing process for December, and though I haven't published anything yet, I believe I will one day. One day, I will dare to put my work out there. One day, I will write well enough to get a solid offer, instead of the almost-misses from literary agents.

In the meantime, I will keep writing, keep reading, keep honing my craft by studying how other writers write. After all, as Monica Wood (author of The Pocket Muse) said, Money schmoney. If you write, you're a writer.

And we're back to the rejections

[12/01/10]
Dear Joyce,

I'm pleased to tell you I got the chance to sit down and read the first pages of your manuscript and I'm interested in seeing more. I would love to read the entire manuscript. You can email it to me as a Word attachment or you can mail it to me at the address below. (Please write REQUESTED MATERIAL in the subject of your email or on the cover of your envelope.)

Best,
Suzie Townsend
FinePrint Literary Management
240 W. 35th Street, Suite 500
New York, NY 10001
Office: 212-279-1282
Direct: 858-336-4222


[16/01/10]
Dear Joyce,

I have finished reading your pages of BEDFUL OF MOONLIGHT. After careful evaluation, I have decided that I am not the right agent to represent your work. Unfortunately I just didn't connect to Kristen or the pacing of the story the way I wanted to. I'm sure another agent will feel quite differently about your material though.

Thank you for considering our agency. I wish you the best of luck finding representation.

Best,
Suzie Townsend

"There are some lessons that can only be learned by getting mid-way through a book and learning you don't have enough story or character depth to finish it. There are some lessons that are only learned once you box yourself into a certain point of view. There are some lessons only learned by realizing what you have is a great, big steaming pile of quirks and character sketch--but no real character CHANGE and thus . . . hell, it's not a novel.

The solution isn't to fake your results. The solution is to start your next book more determined and more aware than ever before. It's to salute the steaming pile of meh . . . and take what you learned and move on to the next book."

~ Erica Orloff, Writer
Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Tell me about it. I remember I was THISCLOSE to giving up on Bedful of Moonlight because halfway through the story (literally - I was at page 154), I realised I didn't have much of a plot or characters deep enough to flesh out their motivations and desires. I'm glad I decided to push through and dig deeper, though. I'm quite pleased with the end result.

Just played Runaway World, and experienced a bout of nostalgia for the days when I was working on Lilies. I know you've heard this many times, but it never gets old for me.

It's just, I tried so hard for Lilies, you know? I truly believe I did the best I could for my first proper novel. I actually love my characters. And yeah, I know, it's melodramatic, but I don't know, that's how I like it. Don't writers write the stories that they would want to read? But of course, I would want my readers to like the stories I like too. Too bad they don't.

But you know, in my life, I'd always gotten what I wanted if I tried hard enough for it. I guess this is the first instance where I tried so hard but reaped nothing. I guess I'm just not used to it.

In Mint, the setting is different from Moonlight. Mostly because Moonlight takes place, well, at night. But Mint is sort of like Lilies, in terms of setting. It takes place in a butterfly farm, a herb garden, and of course, Wroughton. I've never been so in love with a place I've created (did that come out sounding conceited?). It's just all light and open, bright and colourful, vivid and passionate and full of life. Okay, I'm gushing. Maybe that's why I prefer Lilies more to Moonlight. The setting. Also, Moonlight isn't half as funny as Lilies, if I do say so myself.

In Mint, I'm going to make Reynold (the male lead) a funny, laidback guy who drives Leigh (yes, Jerm, I know it sounds like the name of a reindeer - sleighbell, sleigh, Leigh - but it's growing on me), the protagonist, nuts.

The only problem is, what is at stake for them? What are their character motivations? Leigh is strong-minded, independent and is trying really hard to prove herself and be the responsible one in the family. Reynold, well, isn't. The only thing or person he remotely cares about is his trouble-seeking younger brother, Kyle. So I guess Kyle is the one at stake. I decided last night that Leigh, being goal-driven and everything, shall have her achievements at stake. And what better than her job at the herb garden and her volunteer work at the butterfly farm? If her job were at stake (not to mention her credits for community service), would she trade Reynold's brother for what she wants?

Now, there's your story. Anyone who is nice enough to read the first few pages I've come up with can contact me at jcxw2590@yahoo.com.sg and request for the pages. Tell me if it's working so far, okay, before I go any further? (Ie, too much backstory, too much rambling, too much dialogue, too light-hearted, etc?)

Now I just have to, in the words of Tim Gunn, make it work.

Okay, Bedful of Moonlight's completed. I actually finished the last page last Thursday, and was late for my meeting with the gang because I was still trawling for quotes to stick on every chapter. It's really difficult looking for them. They have to go with what the chapter is about, and I wanted them to be quotes from writers, because, you know, the characters are voracious readers and all.

So, yes, I'm done. Well, with the first draft, that is. But I've been working on editing it since then. I'm on page 165 now. Hopefully, I can finish editing it by the end of this week (even more hopefully, today or tomorrow), so I can query Michelle. Omg, please don't let her reject me again. I can't take it.

Oh, and I've come up with a semblance of a plot for my next story! Yupp. I spent my weekend scribbling furiously in my notebook ("Why do you write everywhere you go?" cried my exasperated dad, who, thankfully, did not demand to see what I was writing) and delving into the characters I've just created. She someone really different from all the others I've come up with. She's not really a loner, or someone with fantasy romantic ideals; she's not reeling from someone's death, or falling for someone with a dark secret. She is, in fact, quite self-sufficient and assertive. I can already see how tough it'll be to write in her POV, because goodness knows I'm nothing like her, but it'll be interesting, I'll bet.

And, of course, there is a boy (more on him in a bit). There always is, like what Sarah Dessen said. I think all writers write books that they would like to read. I mean, I like dark dramatic romance stories and flowers and books and quiet nights and a quiet little estate with trees and winding lanes, so I write about them. Writers, I suppose, live out their fantasies through their writing.

And you know what? I just realised something, on my way to help my grandmother with the groceries on Saturday. My neighbourhood actually reminds me a lot of Wroughton. It's true! Every day when I walk back from the swimming complex near my house, I see this pavement that runs along a quiet narrow road lined with matured trees and a row of low houses. The sky is always blue (okay, at least for these past couple of months) and there are butterflies flitting about and birds calling. It's just so peaceful and pretty. Also, on my way to the market, there's a grass patch near the community centre where several bicycles are parked to a few short stumpy trees. And you know in Wroughton, hardly anybody drives around. They walk or cycle (my ideal estate), and that just reminded me so much of it.

So, how about that, huh? Who knew I'd drawn so much inspiration for Wroughton estate from my own neighbourhood. By the way, for those of you who don't know, Wroughton estate is a quiet little private estate where my stories take place. It's quite an isolated but close-knit community where everyone knows everything about everyone (that's the downside).

Okay, so the boy. Wait, you know what? I'm not going to talk about it here. Not when it's not really all that developed yet. I do know the title of the new story will be Mint, though. Yes, just Mint. I know, hard to believe, that for someone as long-winded as me, I actually came up with a one-word title. But I do have my reasons for coming up with that title.

But I do need, once again, some help with names. In Lilies, the characters were Connell and Raven. In Moonlight, it was Kristen and Caleb (and it took us all a long time to come up with those two names; blame it on my pickiness). So, in Mint? Any suggestions? No Marthas, or Emilys, or Davids, or Joshuas, or Jasons, or Christinas. I want something memorable and nice-sounding, but not too outlandish. Like Raven. Or Caleb. You know?

It's that time of the year again ... for rice dumplings! YUM. I just realised I don't eat anyone else's rice dumplings other than my grandmother's, and for good reason. My grandmother's rice dumplings are to die for.

It's quite a major production. She'd wake up at the crack of dawn and start boiling water in the huge vat to dunk the wrapped dumplings in. My aunt would come and help with the wrapping, and by evening, we'd have huge plates (you'd need two people to stretch out their arms to cover its circumference, and I'm not kidding about that) of rice dumplings ready to last the entire Chua family (at least 19 people, excluding colleagues and friends that some of them give away to) for at least a week.

But honestly, I can't stand tao sa. It's so effin gross: sweet and melt-y, even worse than chocolate, and that's saying a lot, since I hate chocolate with a passion (yes, I'm weird, shut up), and ice-cream. I wish my grandmother made more rice dumplings with no tao sa. Or that gao luk thingy. I have no idea what it's called in English. Chestnut, maybe? Idk. But I think it's chestnut, boiled chestnut. Ugh.

Apart from that, it's awesome.

And you know what else is awesome? Me being on page 271 of Bedful of Moonlight. I was so ready to give up writing it at page 180, because I thought my story was going nowhere and dominated by too many conversations. I'm still worried about that, but I figured what the hell, I'll just finish the damn thing and ask for opinions. Like what Jerm said, if I keep worrying about how the story'll turn out, I'll never finish it. And since I'm already at page 271, I might as well finish those last 40 pages or so. I am so going to look for representation for this one. I just hope Michelle Andelman wouldn't have been too frightened off by Lilies (melodramatic, remember?) to turn this one down.

And I just heard No Boundaries by Kris Allen on radio (987fm). Good stuff. Kris is a solidly talented musician. I wish him all the best in his career. Same goes for Adam, who is already a star despite not being the new American Idol.

Why am I back on this topic? Lol. Guess the two of them are my favourite contestants on AI so far. And I heard something about Michael Sarver (the oil rigger, top 13) telling Adam where he came from, 'people like you are either hidden in the closet or dead'. I don't know if it's true, but I actually like Michael. I don't believe he'd say something like that; he seems like such a decent guy, even if he does look like a small-town hick. Most guys from middle America have got that wholesome look (e.g. KRIS), even though they may be quite parochial on certain things that I won't get into here. But the thing about big-city boys is that they are more liberal-minded and wordly. Though that again can be a downside, because they're so much more experienced and stuff.

What the hell am I rambling on about?

Never mind. Anyway, I watched some of The Hills yesterday. Yes, I'm completely guilty about that. It's like a guilty pleasure. Wait, no. It's like schadenfreude. Like watching a senseless train wreck. Watching these air-headed girls walking about Beverly Hills in their Louboutins, talking (scripted) about their boring lives and boring (or assholic, in the case of Heidi Montag) boyfriends and high-schoolish drama about who made out with whose boyfriend. Long story short: Lauren Conrad, the main character, was best friends with Heidi Montag, who later fell for Spencer Pratt (aka Douchbag of the Century), who destroyed the friendship between the girls when Heidi chose to be with Spencer and give up Lauren. Speidi (as they're all calling them) then made up a rumour about a Lauren Conrad sex-tape that got Lauren so pissed off she confronted them in a club. Barack Obama commented in a speech that the first thing he was going to to as president was to stop the feuding between Lauren and Heidi. Anyway, then, Lauren finds new bffs (*rolls eyes*), Audrina Patridge, as well as her co-worker from Vogue magazine where she interns, Whitney Port. Whitney and Audrina aren't all that close because Audrina doesn't work with them, but she's friends with Lauren and Heidi. Now another of Lauren's high school best friends, Lo Bosworth, comes to live with her, and there's a lot of tension between her and Audrina, because Lo is a possessive bitch who doesn't know how to share her friend with other people. On the boy front, Lauren makes a new friend called Brody Jenner, with whom she shares an ambiguous relationship, but eventually Brody (who is cute, but is also the Player of the Century) gets a girlfriend while Lauren's away in Paris for work. Also, she broke up with her almost-as-douchy-as-Spencer boyfriend, Jason something. Have I bored you yet? I must have. In case I haven't, Lauren not does not approve of Spencer (HA, that's an understatement! She HATES him with a passion, and the feeling is mutual), and neither does she like Justin Bobby, Audrina's on-off boyfriend for four years, who is an asshole and treats her badly (but Audrina goes back to him everytime, what an idiot). He is rude (burping loudly, deliberately at dinner) and selfish (he doesn't help the girls carry their luggages, but only carries his own little duffel and walks ahead of them) and talks like his tongue is made of lead and with his head horizontal most of the time. But then there was some rumour about Lauren hooking up with "your friends don't fathom me" Justin Bobby (I know, confusing), and then Lauren and Audrina fell out, but got together again. And then Audrina moved out because of the tension between her and Lo, and now it's just Lauren and Lo, and Whitney's moved to NYC for work (earning herself a spinoff show called The City). Then Audrina starts falling for Brody, which makes his psychotic bitch of a girlfriend maaad, and there was some confrontation between them in a club, and Brody was like, "I just want this over with." And back to LC, I've just heard something about Lauren and Heidi - get ready for this - patching up. I saw something on YouTube, where the two of them were crying, and Heidi was saying, "I'm happiest when I'm with you. All my good memories are of you," and Lauren pulled her into a hug...

Okay, see why this is bad TV but good trash? Completely addictive, but brainless. But come on, Nathan Bransford is addicted to it too (to date, he has 40 posts with The Hills as a label, and they're funny as hell, as usual - Nathan's seriously the most entertaining blogger ever), so I prefer to see it as being in touch with pop culture.

I just realised how addicted I am to Nathan's blog. It's almost unhealthy. I can read it all day. And yes, I know, I'm procrastinating. I'm supposed to be writing, but here I am. And yes, I've used 8 I's in this paragraph so far. Where's the nearest soup kitchen?

All right. Enough rambling. Shut your mouth, Joyce. But they're already shut. Okay, shut the mouth of your mind.

Wait. Am I talking to myself?

Clearly, I need to get out more often.

Warning: this post is a trend-of-thought monologue, and may potentially bore you or cause confusion in your head as you try to make sense of my internal verbal vomit.

Why would Caleb want to leave with his mother? Is it because he doesn’t believe he can repair his family any longer? If that is so, something has to HAPPEN to make him realise that. Does he finally get tired of helping his father? But given how loyal he is to him, it is an unlikely explanation. Caleb is not one to complain. He doesn’t resent the fact that he is helping his father hide from the law; he just doesn’t want him to get into more trouble than he already is in.

So. WHY WOULD CALEB DECIDE TO LEAVE? If I can't give a strong explanation for this, not only will my story not stand, I won't be able to move on.

The only question I can think of asking right now is, what does Caleb want? What is his motivation? Kristen wants permanence; she fears abandonment. So does Caleb, in a way. He is afraid of being left behind; he is afraid of ... irresponsibility, maybe? If that is so, then that's a new character trait of his that I've never established before. Okay. Then I'll have to SHOW that he's responsible. How? By the way he looks after Oliver. Yes. Okay, now that that's established (man, I have a hell lot of revision to do), let's now look at the way Caleb views his family. We know Reilly sees her family as screwed up, but her loyalties lie unswervingly (is that a word?) with her father, Jade with her mother. Caleb is just trying to protect his mother and help to hold the family together (a distinctly masculine trait, protect and perform - to take the place of his absent father, maybe?). So I also have to show that the family right now, with Gabriel, is not ideal, not the one that the kids are happy in. How? What I've shown so far is that they're both workaholics, too busy to spend time with their kids. They are only politely detached with each other, but the workaholic idea is a little cliched, no?

Oh, by the way, should I make Kristen less weepy? Because Khrish just told me she found her a little too emotional. Which is true. I'd been afraid she'd come off like that, too self-absorbed and unwilling to move on and just too content to stew in her head, replaying her boyfriend's death over and over again. Maybe I should make her a detached and stony individual when she first arrives at Wroughton. I've done the detached thing, but I mentioned that she kept crying after Blake died. Maybe I should make her repress her emotions, empty her out, so that everything only comes out at night. Then I can build up dramatic tension to the climax where Kristen finally allows herself to let go (ie, scene at the craft fair with Caleb).

Back to Caleb. What happens to make him want to leave? I don't think I want it to be Gareth this time. He's done too much; too much is centred around and stemmed from him. Let other characters come into play. I've been wondering if I've created too little characters. In Lilies, there were more characters, more distinct voices, that made the story more interesting (if I may say so myself). Who, though, in Moonlight? WHO?? What makes him realise that leaving Wroughton (and Kristen) is the best option? Why would he want to leave with his mother and Gabriel? Arrrgh, Joyce! Think!

Dammit. I need to lie down.

I just realised what exactly it is that makes me so sad about writing (despite the joy it gives me): I have no-one to share it with.

My dear Yiling wrote a song inspired by Bedful of Moonlight, after reading it all the way from chapter 3 to 11. She said the melody just started flowing. Man, that's real inspiration. But she told me to go back and work out the lyrics. So I did. Please don't laugh if it sounds cheesy! Lol.



The Other Side of Here


Verse 1: These are the tears
That I can no longer catch.
I watch them fall quietly down.
Wipe the film from your eyes,
Because dreams are not made of these.
You want to get to the other side,
You think there's nothing here for you.

Chorus: I know it might mean nothing to you,
But I’ll be here on the porch
With the light on and the mugs set,
Even if it’s the only way through to you,
Even if it’s all I can get.
I’ll see you on the other side of here.

Verse 2: These are the words
That we left between us.
I hear them every night.
You told me once, the loneliest man
Is the one who has lost it all.
You want to get on board that train
That would take you where you were before.

- Chorus –

Bridge: The smallest inch that sits between us
Is a chasm
That I can’t hope to cross.
You’re too far out of reach,
You’re too far out of reach.

- Chorus -

Is no news good news? Do I really have to place my faith in that cliche? It's been four weeks since I sent my manuscript to the most enthusiastic literary agent I've queried to date, Michelle Andelman. Most agents usually require 4 to 6 weeks to read a complete manuscript, so once 6 weeks are up and she hasn't replied.... *Sigh*

Please let her be interested in representing me. That is all I ever want. I can hear desperation in my voice. Can you?

I've gotten some feedback (mainly from Ger and the rest) that Bedful of Moonlight is nicer than When the Lilies Turn Orange. That is both good and bad news. Bad new because, obviously, not only is Lilies not the phenomenal debut I'd hoped it would be, my readers are unable to feel the same way about as I do. But the good news is that if my second novel is better than my first, that means I've improved in one way or another ... right?

One comment I've gotten was that Lilies has too much backstory that made the beginning rather draggy. Okay, fair point. I guess I can see where that came from. Seeing as how that was my first novel that took place in the slightly-Utopic-almost-dystopic estate of Wroughton, I felt the need to firmly establish the setting so as to set the tone and mood of the story.

If Michelle Andelman decides to represent me and wants me to get rid of all that backstory, I'll hack it off, no question. (Again with the desperation. You hear it? It's almost embarrassing. I'm like grovelling.

The reason why I prefer Lilies is because of the setting, and the romance. For Lilies, I always draw up the image of a grand wrought-iron gate flanked by high hedges, with vines curling all over it. And inside the Garden, there'd be a stone fountain, and a maze that eventually leads to the nursery and gift shop, and Raven's (the story's protagonist) favourite hideout: the statue of Venus, where she brings Connell on his birthday...

And the garden would be wild and buzzing, full of life and secrets, and the sweet, heady perfumes of flowers are witnesses to the dark romance between Raven and Connell.

It's just really dramatic for me. Which is how I like it.

As for Bedful of Moonlight, I imagine a quiet cemetary, full of lush greenery everywhere, serene and restful. A quiet lane runs around the cemetary and into the heart of the estate. The rain is over, raindrops slide off the leaves, and the world is cleansed, left cool and gasping, reborn. Just like how moving to Wroughton represents a new life for Kristen.

(I trawled through a hell lot of pictures to find that cemetary one. But it still isn't quite like what I picture. The lane isn't there, for one thing. And for another, I didn't picture so many tombs so closely packed against one another. The cemetary I have in mind is spacious, open, full of light and wind.)

Thoughts, anyone? Feel free to comment.

I guess I've gone long enough without an update.



So here is some good news. For me, at least. About three - or is it four? - agents have asked to look at my manuscript because my query interested them. I'm not getting my hopes up yet, of course. So many agents have expressed interest initially before realising that my writing style was not 'the best fit' for them.



The waiting bit is the part I can't stand. We're expected to give the agents about 4-6 weeks for them to read our manscripts, see. And only a week has passed since I last sent out my manuscript. *FINGERS CROSSED*



On another note, Bedful of Moonlight is taking shape! That's good news, because I'd been on a hiatus from it (about three weeks maybe?) and writing short stories in the meantime. What can I say. The well runs dry sometimes, and I could think of nothing to get my story moving along. But those swimming sessions are strangely therapeutic. When you get lost in your thoughts, you hardly even notice you're swimming. It's funny.



I'm not revealing anything yet, but let's just say that Caleb's family becomes a lot more complicated than before.



And I've decided. After Bedful of Moonlight, I'm going to write one last story that takes place in the estate of Wroughton. I'll call it the Wroughton Series, where three unrelated stories (with the exception of a few cameos) take place there. And then, depending on if I have anymore stories I can tell that takes place in there, I'll probably move on to other stuff. Another story, another setting.



Also, I'm taking part in the Golden Point Award 2009, organised by SPH and NAC. It costs 16 bucks to take part in it. I just hope it'll be worth my money, and time, and effort, and ink, and paper.



Updates sound so boring. I prefer internal monologues, or verbal vomit (as I prefer to call it), don't you?



Oh by the way, I've picked out my books to exchange on the 25th. I just riffed through my cartons and cartons of old books yesterday (dust bunnies everywhere, jeez) and unearthed all those books from so many years ago that I even forgot I had. Tales from Fairyland? Mr Meddle's Mischief? Snowball the Pony? Seven O'Clock Tales? Those are classic, man. Enid Blyton was such a huge part of my childhood. You're high if you think I'm giving them away.



I am, however, going to give away some Picoult and some Charmed. (Okay, wait, on second thoughts, I don't think I'll give them away after all - come on, you don't expect me to give them all away, even though I don't read them now! They symbolise a milestone in my life.) And Can You Keep A Secret, and The Au Pairs, and The Bergdorf Blondes (the dumbest book I have ever read - no offence, Plum Sykes), and The Growing Pains of Adrian Mole or something like that (you know, the diaries of some British teenage boy who keeps measuring his dick and obsesses about his girlfriend's tits? Dude, talk about boring. I so do not want to know what the hell a guy thinks about his body and everybody else's. But to be fair, this was the only book in the series I've actually ever read, so he mightn't have been so obsessive anymore), and some Sabrina the Teenage Witch (okay, STOP laughing) and The OC (I know I was in love with it when I was fifteen or so, but oh well, guess it was just another phase).



Swimming now, sweethearts. TTYL :) But before I leave, here's some hotness for the day.

Guess it's time to blog.

I don't know where to begin. Maybe making a list will be easier.

1. Okay, I'm obsessed with Supernatural at the moment, as you can probably tell from all the name-changing on Facebook and uploading of Jared&Jensen clips here. Can't friggin wait for Season 4's DVD. It's going to last only 5 seasons, which is a waste, because Eric Kripke is a genius and should keep writing some more. And because of Supernatural (best TV show on earth to date), I've recently been listening to something I don't really listen to normally: classic rock. Ie, Metallica, Black Sabbath, Deep Purple, AC/DC, Kansas (head over to my playlist and check out the bottom of the list for the newest additions). I've got Eye of the Tiger and Carry on, My Wayward Son and Dead or Alive stuck in my head in auto-replay! So loving it.

2. Am at home working on my story now, Bedful of Moonlight. And I am friggin stuck. I don't know if it's a writer's block or just plain old cluelessness as to how the story should progress, but this sucks. I don't wish to abort this project. Maybe that's why I feeling kinda blah lately.

3. Another reason why I'm not so chipper at the moment is because I've queried probably close to EIGHTY effin literary agents so far, and none of them are interested. Jerm and Ger tell me it's cause of the recession and financial downturn (that's an understatement) that no agency is willing to pick up new writers. I guess. Still, it's so demoralising. I've queried this local publisher, Lance Ng, from Renaissance Publishing, but he hasn't replied. I just hope I'll get a positive response soon, or I'm just going to go nuts. I mean, 80 rejections slips. That's really sad. It's why I've been looking for competitions to enter so I can build up my resume. But overseas competitions need credit card payment of entry fees, and I don't have one. And Singapore isn't exactly bursting with a lot of opportunities for aspiring writers to break into the market.

Oh well. I guess no one ever said this will be easy. Still, I'll keep going. I've got it all planned out. I'm going to study English Language in NUS, and then apply for teaching for two years (or maybe not, depending on the economic climate when I graduate) and then move on to work in a magazine company, like Cleo or Seventeen, and I'll work my way up to editor. In the meantime, I'll keep doing what I love - creative writing - and sending them for competitions.

I don't think I'll go into journalism. As in, newsroom journalism. I can't stand that kinda writing. Feeding people with the bare facts isn't writing; it's reporting. You'd have to follow a certain format and lose whatever style you might call your own, and just tell people what they want to know. That sounds really ... boring. I mean, it's not for me, okay.

4. I don't really know what I'm living for right now. Like, I'm not being financially-productive, and writing my stories ... well, I'm stuck, what the hell can I do other than take a break from it? Watching Supernatural... It doesn't feel productive, know what I mean? So right now, I am WANDERING, man. I hate being so aimless. At least when I was studying, I had something to work towards.

Wtv. This sucks. Ima go listen to some Dead or Alive (Bon Jovi) right now. (And think of the Winchester boys butchering it - although Dean/Jensen is actually a pretty darn good singer.) Talk to you when I'm less zoned out.

Below: Jensen Ackles (Dean Winchester) and Jared Padalecki (Sam Winchester). I run with Dean, duh. Chiselled cheekbones, maculine jaw, smouldering gaze, deep sexy voice, strong muscled back, badass/tongue-in-cheek attitude (as Dean, that is), but shy and humble in real life. Seriously, it's no competition. Jensen Ackles is HOTTTT, and such a talented actor. Although Sam/Jared does have a cute smile (see picture on the right).