Happy New Year! ... and other things

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Back to work - Hannah's Handout newsletter

Phew! November was harsh. I never thought I would actually finish the National Novel Writing Month as a winner, but there you have it, I surprised myself. It's good to know that I could write a rough draft in a month if I put my mind to it. I admit, my November project lacks everything, from consistency to style, but things like that are fixable. Writing nothing isn't.
I already mentioned the things I learned in my last blog post, but now I'm at the point where I'm actually putting them to good use. Unwilling is at the resolution stage, where Jared and Darwin make up, talk it out and clash with George who fights his own guilt over what happened with Carl. Those dudes have problems! Luckily, I have a vague idea how to fix it and get them back home soon.

I've also gotten to know new people who also fight the good fight. I dabbled in ARC reviewing and stumbled upon a handful of really great stories that I shamelessly gushed over on Goodreads and Amazon and I re-read some of my all-time-favorites. I feel ready.

Ready for my own mailing list. *shudder*

I decided on starting a newsletter while drooling over the book cover for "Unwilling". Yes, you heard right, I got the cover today! Now I'm thinking about the best way to do a cover reveal, because honestly, I'm not the most graceful online personality in the world :D Noticed that, didn't you?
I do want to connect with my fans, but it's not easy. There are too many platforms, too much social media opportunities, and if I go by my own experience, at some point it doesn't matter how great an author is. The sheer noise of too many feeds gets overwhelming and you just want it to stop. I'm not a big fan of e-mails, mostly because I'm being spammed by Goodreads and Twitter, but I'd still prefer a newsletter to having to check multiple sites for new content. After all, I can't bookmark all of them and still know who is who and what is what. Nobody can. And I don't want my fans to become social media managers just so they won't miss my ramblings. A newsletter seems like a good way out of that. One e-mail if something new comes up, at most once a month, you click, you read, you're done. Sounds like a deal to me, so I did it. And here it is:

Hannah's Handout on Tiny Letter!

 

NaNoWriMo: Crawling the last meters

I'm so close to done, I can already see the finish line! My usual loss of motivation started late this year, which is simply astonishing and great and much easier to overcome. I don't quite know how I did it and kept going where I normally crumble like a soufflé, but I've learned so much just by taking part in this NaNo.
I learned that a simple summary of the plot is not enough to help me through all the chapters. For this project, I did three rounds of outlining: A summary, a short description for every chapter, and a bullet-point outline for every single scene. Works like magic! I haven't lost my way once and whenever I got stuck, I could pull up the next scene and keep working there because everything was already laid out and planned.
I also learned how to stick with it on a bad day and be calm about the days I missed. My usual daily wordcount for the days that I write is 2.5k to 3k, which is not that bad I guess, and that made it easy to stay calm on those days where I simply couldn't find the time to write.
The last thing I learned is something that in equal parts worries and fascinates me. When I write, I write slowly and carefully, work each scene and sentence over until it's just right, until I'm happy with it. I learned this through chapter-by-chapter-publishing on Literotica and GayAuthors, where it doesn't really matter how much of the remainder of my story is done as long as the latest installment looks good. This NaNo helped me identify that this is the main reason why it takes years to finish my stories, but I'm really unsure if I should change that or not. It's easy to throw all caution to the wind when working on a story that I myself haven't known for long, like my NaNo-project. Doesn't matter if a chapter sucks, I'm just doing it for the word count and the sake of it. I don't know if and when I'll go over it and fix it up, so no troubles there. But if I apply the same 'just get it out'-mentality to my other works, the ones that I've cared for for years, will they still end up as good as before?

We will see. As soon as this NaNo is done, I'm off to finish those last few scenes for"Unwilling" with this new 'devil may care' attitude. And then edit it, because years of learning have passed since I wrote those first six chapters.

Six more days to go! I can smell my winner's plaque!

Love,
Hannah

Boy Meets Boy Reviews: Shapeshifter

 Wheee!

Shapeshifter got a review from Boy Meets Boy Reviews! I faced my own fears and did it-- my first foray into the world of reviews had me in knots for weeks after I gave it a try. There's nothing more horrible than waiting for something you aren't quite sure will end well, but all in all, I'm glad I jumped over my shadow and tried my luck. Here's the review they wrote for my first published novel, "Shapeshifter":

Boy Meets Boy Reviews: Guest Review: Shapeshifter by Hannah L. Corrie

With NaNoWriMo still riding me hard, it'll take some time until I'll have another book to throw out into the world, but reading this gave me a boost of confidence I dearly needed. I can do this!... I think. :)

Love,
Hannah

NaNo Tidbit

Update: It's going great. So far, I've managed to stop myself from circling back and working scenes over and over instead of writing the rest of it. Qualitywise, it could be better, but that's what NaNo is about, right? Get the story out and then go back and edit, not the other way around. So all is good, for now. Here's a scene I wrote yesterday!

*Scene*
It was the strangest sight to watch creatures so at home with wings, tails and claws acting so much like humans. They all were graceful as they shouted out welcomes and professions of happiness, clapped shoulders and grabbed wrists in greeting like old friends. Which they probably were. Craig joined Eric in his suspicious eying of the goings on, but he left it to the soldier to take care of Jenny. She still hadn’t made a peep, no sign of life besides her shivering form and her breathing. At least she hadn’t dropped dead, which felt like something Craig had barely escaped. The getaway and the flight here had been brutal, especially since his body may have grown thinner and more muscled, but the same didn’t seem to be true for his stamina. Everything hurt and not in that gym-kind of way, but deep down and with waves of muscle exhaustion that made it hard to raise his arms or fold his wings. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get back up if he sat down, so he stayed standing.
The group of winged creatures slowly dispersed with but a few staying behind and talking animatedly to Ealdræd and most of them trotting back towards the ruins. More worrisome were the three or four looking at them with the stillness of predators. They almost seemed to be scenting the air, with that stretched out moment of utter silence before the pounce. Craig tried not to shrink back from them, hoping it would keep them from seeing him as pray. Turning a little to the side, he offered them his shoulder and fixed his eyes on Eric, just like he would have done with a dog defending its territory. They exchanged worried glances and Craig took a breath to share his concerns with him, when Eric’s attention turned away and his eyes widened.
They were coming. Maybe not to attack, but Craig had a feeling that the situation still could end badly for them. He turned a little belated, still trying his best not to provoke those creatures, but it didn’t make much of a difference. Three of them, two female and one male, stalked towards them with unreadable faces. They were different shades of rocky gray, with the male almost as pale as common mortar. His eyes were piercing white and twisted horns decorated his head. The females both were darker, with one tinged slightly greenish and the other a solid concrete gray. Their small breasts were ensconced in what looked like flaps of beaten, old leather, but they wore the same loincloth like the males.
Craig only noticed that he was staring when the concrete-colored lady monster stopped inches before him, her wings spread wide as she crowded him towards the ledge behind him. Her grin offered an unsettling view of her cat-like fangs, but any thought of being viewed as food dissipated when she promptly grabbed his waistband and nudged her clawed finger tips against his cock as she pulled him flush against her body. “Hey! Hands off,” Craig hissed and shoved against her shoulders, but he only succeeded in forcing her back and her pulling him with her.
“You are a fledgling, I can smell it on your skin,” she said, her voice a rough, harsh purr full of lascivious interest and something darker. “If you fight me, I will break you and still get what I want. And I enjoy a bit of struggle, so do go ahead. Make me let go.” The challenge was there, thinly veiled and not at the least dampened by her carnivorous grin. Craig so didn’t want to find out if ‘breaking him’ was a metaphor or not. At the same time, he could hardly just let her grope him and not do anything about it at all, so he settled for pushing both arms against her shoulders and holding her at arm’s length as his thoughts raced. What was he supposed to do now?
He needn’t have worried. One moment, the winged lady was trying her best to shove her hand deeper into his pants and almost ripping off his button in the process, and in the next moment, she was gone, sailing through the air with what amounted to an expression of utter surprise and pain, with Ealdræd already swiveling around to stalk after her. His face was a mask of animalistic rage, twisted and distorted and accompanied by his raised, spread wings and his whipping tail. “Mine!” he roared, falling into a sprint as the female hit the ground, tumbled a few feet and jumped back up like a puppet on strings.
They met like sumo wrestlers, all shearing claws, bared teeth and roping muscles as they grappled for the upper hand. Their roars and screams filled the plateau and echoed through the ruins, drawing spectators who popped out of the darkness-filled nooks and crannies like nocturnal mushrooms. Nobody made a move to intervene though. Just as the female managed to shove Ealdræd off-balance, he twisted and rammed his wing-joint into her face, sending her stumbling back with a pained scream and spurting blood from her nose. Craig held his breath, tensing as he waited for the retribution that would have followed in a brawl between humans. It never came. The female hunched down, pressed a hand on her broken nose and groaned, then raised her blood-smeared hand as if to show it to the spectators and turned to walk away without another word. Ealdræd stared after her until she disappeared between the ruins.
“First blood,” Eric whispered with a slightly astonished inflection, then snarled aggressively. Craig turned to find Eric crouching between the other two and his sister, his own teeth bared at the male’s outstretched hand. “Don’t touch her,” Eric warned and the unknown male froze. “Don’t underestimate me, I might be new at this, but I know how to kick your ass!”
This could get ugly, fast. Craig made to step closer to them, to help Eric against the strangers, but he didn’t get far. An arm twisted around his neck, pulled him back and made him stumble. Ealdræd. Craig bucked against his grip, pulled at his arm still holding him around the neck and tried to shake him off. “Wait, I have to help them!”
“No you don’t. That’s not your fight and you have somewhere to be,” Ealdræd said snidely, anger still flickering through his sharp-edged voice. He took Craig into a half-nelson and strode off towards the ruins, taking no notice of how Craig fumbled and stumbled.
Craig snapped. He turned in Ealdræd’s grip and elbowed him into his stomach, hopping away with flapping arms and wings as he popped free of the arm and found himself off balance unexpectedly. The elation didn’t last for long, though. Ealdræd hissed, gasped for air and coughed once, then he straightened and stalked towards Craig, his expression a landscape of thunder. Craig stumbled back from the clear anger in that face and raised his hands to fend off whatever Ealdræd had in mind. “Can we talk about this, please? I just want to—”
He didn’t get any further than that. Them moment Ealdræd was close enough, his fists met Craig’s sternum, stomach and cheek in such a quick succession that Craig didn’t have time to react until his breath was gone and pain filled his body, hunching him over as he gasped and coughed and went down on one knee. “No. You will obey,” Ealdræd snarled, looming over him unkindly. He leaned down, grabbed Craig’s arms and twisted, turning him around and sending him to the ground chest-first, then grabbed both his wrists, using them to pin Craig’s wings to his back and picked him up like so much luggage.
Craig swore and cursed the whole way, gasping through the last remnants of that first, breathtaking punch and not paying much attention to their surroundings. He tried to wrest his arms free, but all he got for his troubles were a set of clawmarks on his chest and a slap to the side of the head that sent his vision spinning and forced him to quiet down. Not that that helped; as soon as he stopped struggling, he was very much aware of what his body thought of being this close to Ealdræd. He was enveloped in his scent, felt the man’s muscles move beneath his dark skin, felt his arms around his body. His cock woke to half-mast, throbbing delightedly against the canvas of his pants, sending soft, hot twinges through his belly, and his heart fluttered excitedly. Or maybe anxiously? It had been years since he had been close to another person, never mind naked or in prolonged physical contact. In fact, Craig couldn’t remember when he’d last had sex with anyone but himself, which was quite a thing. After all, Ealdræd was bodily carrying him off to god knew where, to do god knew what to him. What if he actually wanted to sleep with him? The thought alone made Craig whine nervously. Did he even remember how such a thing was done? Could a person forget things like that?
With his head spinning a mile a minute, it took Craig a few moments to realize they were walking up a rickety, crumbling, concrete staircase and that there was nobody else around anymore. The murmurs and the dry rustling of leathery wings had ceded completely and all that was left was the soft, moaning sigh of wind rushing through broken windows, wall cracks and open doors. They were already up at least one level, but Ealdræd didn’t pause to let Craig take in the view through the dirty, cracked windows. He rushed up the steps, stopped for a moment when he met a solid, age-darkened, wooden door and pushed it open with his shoulder.
Behind the door lay what looked to have been an office or foreman’s workstation in the past. What furniture hadn’t been carried off showed all the signs of age and a few of the ceiling-high paneled windows were broken, but the view was still breathtaking. Even from the door, Craig could see all of the city and most of the surrounding mountains, and since the windows covered two of the four sides of the room, it glittered with moonlight. Someone had obviously occupied this room before them, judging by the heap of blankets on an old, thin, ratty mattress, but Ealdræd still carried him in as if he’d lived here for years.
The door fell shut behind them with a loud bang that rattled the remaining windows and made Craig yelp. Then Ealdræd stepped forward and dropped him onto the blankets. Craig instantly rolled onto his back and crab-walked away until his back met concrete and there was nowhere left to go.
Ealdræd bared his teeth again and slowly advanced on him, each step measured and lurking. “So. Where were we?”

One more week to NaNoWriMo - My project!

Story:

Manastorm (The Quickening, Book 1)

Genre:

Urban Nightmare/Urban Grimdark/Dark Erotica

Checklist:

• Worldbuilding: 65% of a targeted 65%
• Characters: 80% of a targeted 80%
• Story Outline: 100% of 100% (Rough Draft)
• Scene Outlines: 80% of a targeted 80% (Bullet point descriptions)
• Mapping and Timelines: 80% of a targeted 100%

Pretentious Blog - Tutorial: How to make your own fictional city using Google Maps

NaNoWriMo is coming! <Jon Snow Face>

I'm plotting and outlining like the madwoman I am, wooooo! I've always been a sucker for new ideas and ways to do things, so I've been using this opportunity to try out as much new stuff as possible. Since I've always wanted to finally find a way to add a certain realism to my settings, I had a look around for ways to plot a scene setting with real life maps. This is how I stumbled upon the following blog entry: It describes how to use Google Maps to create your own fictional setting/city/landscape and use real life maps to get the dimensions, distances, elevation, waterways, and so on, right.

I've been going wild on my own personal map ever since. Sorry Phoenix, Arizona, but you're mine now. :D

If you'd like to check out the tutorial yourself, just follow the link! Just be reminded that Google Maps has had some redesigns and you'll have to look a bit to find your custom map options.

Here's the Article:

Tutorial: How to make your own fictional city using Google Maps