Publication Date Set: "Rain" is coming out!

Late Sunday night I looked at my to-do list for Rain, looked at the calendar, and made the following post to my author Facebook Page: S.E. Hudnall.

We’ve set the date, the cast of “Rain” and I.
 
Gerry was a little disappointed when I had to tell him Valentine’s Day wasn’t going to work. Impatient man. I have to give him kudos though; he’s been bugging me since the story began. Cheryl beamed. Spring, rather than late winter February, pleased her to no end. I kind of knew she’d bring him around. Valarie squealed with excitement. Tom sighed, shook his head, and mumbled something like “at last”, while his wife, Linda, gave him one of her Mona Lisa smiles. What Marilyn said I can’t repeat, but she laughed as she said it. I won’t go into the other characters’ responses, though I could easily enough.
 
“Rain” will be out on May 15th.

Surely that has to be one of the scariest postings I've ever done. It's real. It's coming out. No turning back. No more postponing. Baring a totally unexpected problem or the whim of a cruel universe, the story I have been writing and working on since 1994 will be in the hands of readers. I hope they like it. I hope you like it.

There's still a lot of work to be done. I'm not kidding myself about that and there are a lot of
"feels" to be dealt with.

Untitled On Purpose: Hope and Bad Poetry

Untitled On Purpose

Gone for the holidays

Wafted away by snatches of carols

And starry, starry nights.

Lost in foil-lined wrapping paper

And gingerbread dreams.

Not I.

The carols I hear

The wrapping paper lies unwinding on the table

And the gingerbread dreams are still just dreams.

 

I roam in the world I created.

Looking into windows

Listening at doors

A voyeur in my own imagination

Watching the rain fall.

 December 2015

 

Normally I would be posting a Christmas haiku or tanka. I may yet, the day is still young or fairly so. This is what I have written though, so I am posting it.

 

Please note the final line. It’s been a very long time, and there are still obstacles to overcome, but I am starting to have some hope that Rain will be published in 2016. More than that I am afraid to say. Saying it aloud or definitely may jinx the whole thing. But maybe. . . just maybe. . .

Hope is curious thing, isn’t it?

I Hate True Love

"Love isn't always difficult at the beginning. No. Falling in love is easy. Love enduring is the challenge. And, if it's real. it does."

S.E. Hudnall

 I hate true love.

It sounds like an improbable statement for a writer who calls herself someone who writes love stories. A romance writer who doesn't like romance? She must be deranged or something? It isn't right! One has to believe in love to write love stories, yes?

And that's exactly where the trouble lies. I do believe in love. I can't stop believing in it. I don't believe in true love, I believe in real love.

Like Len Barry’s song, falling in love is easy. Not difficult at all. A spark. A glance one second longer than needed. The sound of laughter. A smile or grin that melts your heart. One single moment, perhaps dismissed at the time but long remembered after as the moment you fell in love.

Staying in love? Continuing to love? Now there is the challenge. It's easy to love when it appears to be some dreamlike destiny, perfect, and filled with roses and champagne.

Real love hands you a cold washcloth after a bout of morning sickness. Real love has no qualms about going toe-to-toe over something then stepping back and saying, “You’re right. I was wrong.” –sometimes even when you’re right.  Real love fights for its existence and never gives up. It finds its anchors in the everyday, ordinary joys of banal existence–.washing the car together on a sunny day, hearing the door open and a voice asking for you, standing up and feeling a hand on your shoulder. It perseveres against threat. Real love endures, finds happiness in every day moments, and smiles.

Yes, that’s my trope and I’m sticking with it. Yes, I write love stories.

 

 

Fantasy Story Coming!

I have a couple of posts in the pipeline to be finished and put up but I wanted to share something first. "The Familiar" , my first fantasy short story, is coming out. I'm not exactly sure when, but I'm hoping within the next two months. Time will tell as things are wrapped up. In the meanwhile I want to share a little video I made with a quote from one of the main characters. Yes, it's a love story. Haven't you guessed that by now?

 

 

 

There are other stories in the anthology and I plan on sharing those over the next couple of months. I am so excited about this. Now you know what has been keeping me so busy.

 

 



Why Kill a Heroine?

 

 

 

 

She's right. So many male writers who write love stories do kill off the heroine. I remember a best seller in 1970 called "Love Story". The book was, of course, made into a hit movie. Everyone was talking about how grown men were coming out of the theater with tears streaming down their faces. Exaggeration? No, not really. I recall seeing the movie, not being super impressed, but both of the guys (it was a double date) had traces of tears on their faces.

 

Sparks does it. Segal did it. Shakespeare did it. A lot of notable male authors do it. OK, Shakespeare killed off the hero, too.  Come to think of it, didn't Sparks kill off the hero in The Horse Whisperer?

 

But why do they do it? I mean why do they kill off heroines? Predominately, anyway. I have a little theory of my own which may or may not hold water.

 

One word: perfection. It's probably not the best word but it's the best word I can find and what I am thinking may be just a little 'anti-male'. But thinking back on stories I've read I cannot help but draw the conclusion. If the love interest dies she never changes in memory. She remains beautiful, loving, intelligent, and full of laughter. Back to the original word: perfect, whatever attributes she embodies. The love remains perfect. It's never tested by time, marriage, children, and age. There is weeping for her removal at the peak of her life---the 'potential' of their possible idyllic life together. As a couple, they will never bury parents or (heaven forbid!) a child together. He will never forget her birthday and she will never forget he hates green peppers. Time will be frozen while everything is still perfect.

 

Killing off the heroine preserves all the romantic perfection. It will never change or be challenged by life and its circumstances. It does make for a beautiful love story, doesn't it? Romance . . . love. . . tragedy.

 

I can't even say I will never write such a story. I might. But I will confess that even though I have said my stories do not start with a theme a writing friend recently found one. After practice pitching both Rain and Snow with her, she found one. Yes, running through the both of them and so simple I was taken aback at first--- Love Endures.

 

She was right. It's there. I didn't consciously start out with a theme; I was just writing a story.

 

No, I probably will not kill off a heroine. It goes against my nature and doesn't fit my writing or my philosophy currently. I prefer love to change, grow, and endure.

 

 

 

 

 



Stories within stories: a Snippet from "Snow"

I talked about characters in yesterday's post. How I create them and they tell me the story. Sometimes little pieces of story simply become snippets---a story they told me which influences them but serves as back story, much like "Judith".

I've been revising Rain over the past few weeks but I've also been working on my second project, Snow, with an eye to having them both ready (possibly) for next year's writing conference. As happens with me, a name caught my eye and, while I knew she was important, I didn't or don't pursue that particular story in Snow. It's backstory again. And, yet, I liked it. Another story is folded up inside. Would you like a peek at the snippet? It's unedited rough draft and incomplete (even now my fingers itch to rephrase and elaborate some things). I think I'm going to finish it up as a short story and put it up on Scribophile. The story folded inside? Please tell me in the comments if you see it as well as I do and ,if I wrote it, would you read it?

What Kind of Love Story?

Write what you know. Isn’t that a popular saying in almost any writing class you can take? If writers only wrote about things they knew what a dull place fiction would be! I decided to take another pundit’s advice instead: write the story you would want to read. It may be wishful thinking. It may be unmarketable but some things just keep coming out at the end of my fingertips.

1.     The love story doesn't end at the altar. All right some of them do but some of them actually start there. And I fully believe some of the best love stories grow from there.

2.     Attractiveness is in the eye of the beholder.

3.     Geeks can be attractive. . .and sexy. Do you think they are all alike in both form and function? You haven’t met the geeks I have! 

4.     Women over 40 can be sexy, too. Do I really have to address this?

5.     Everyone has family! Stories may be easier to write for orphans or near-orphans but really!

6.     Parents do have love lives. If you're a parent, you understand this.

7.     Sex can be funny. I mean come on! Think about it.

8.     Men are often more romantic then they are given credit for. One of the advantages of being older is by this point is I've actually witnessed this over and over again. I don't have sisters, daughters, or nieces; I have brothers, sons, and nephews.

9.     Love at first sight does happen. Hey, this is romantic fiction after all. And, I am sometimes struck by the number of times I've heard a man say, "Yes, I knew the moment I saw her I was going to marry her (or something similar)."  Women have said it, too.

10.  A love story isn't always a romance but it is always a love story. I have a couple of projects on my writing list which fit that description.

 

These aren't all the little ideas or rules that make their way into my stories and I can't say they all make their way into  every story. Some do and some don't. They're just the ones I've become aware of over time.

 

Excerpts and Snippets: "Snow"

Another excerpt today I think. This one is from "Snow". I think the era or time frame should be explicit.

“Mark, I want to know why you came all the way to Wisconsin,” Desiree asked as they sat down at the small dining table at the apartment for a late night snack.

“It’s complicated, Lizzie.” Mark played with the pickle she placed next to the grilled cheese sandwich he had asked for. “I guess I’m looking for some support for a decision I don’t really want to have to make.”

Desiree propped her arms on the table and looked at her brother for a moment. “What decision?”

“I graduate this May,” he said and snapped his pickle in half. “My degree will be finished.”

“Yes, Mama is so excited about it.”

“I know. But I don’t think she realizes what will come with it. And I do. I’ll have . . . do have some choices to make and none of them are ones I want to make.”

“What choices?”

“Lizzie, for God’s sake. You read the newspapers; you watch Walter Cronkite. Have you been living in a cave?” His voice rose and his eyes gleamed bright with tears she hadn’t seen since their father died. “Listen to me again. I graduate this May; my degree will be finished. I’m not married with kids like Monroe and Tal.”

Desiree dropped her head to her propped arms and fought the urge to pound her head against the wood. He was talking about Vietnam and she knew it. She looked back up at her brother. “Mark, what happened to med school? You’ve been dreaming and planning for med school since junior high.”

“I got my fifth application back. ‘Thank you for applying’, ‘our best wishes in your pursuit of a medical career’, and all that other crap that adds up to ‘tough luck, buddy.’ I’ve got two more applications still out but I can read the writing on the wall.”

Mark seemed to grow smaller in the dining chair like he was physically shrinking in front of her. The words finally began to sink into her, calling up images of fallen baby sparrows and the wounded rabbit he had brought home when he was only in the fifth grade. Big, tough football player he might have been but his grades were stellar and his scholarships were not based on his athletic ability. Medicine was his dream. Pediatrics to be specific. She had always known that. To see the big guy with children, newborns in particular, sent some girls she knew into hormonal overdrive.

“You’ll have a degree, Mark. They’ll probably send you to OCC.”

“Maybe,” he answered. “It would be a sure bet if I had joined ROTC like Monroe told me to last year.”

“Why didn’t you? It sounded like a good idea at the time,” Desiree asked.

Mark sighed and shrugged. “I thought about it. I already had the short hair and with the family history no one would have thought anything of it. But I just couldn’t. It was fine for Monroe and Tal but. Lizzie, even officers have to be ready to shoot to kill.”

Mark’s blue eyes looked hollow in his face, his mouth drawn. Desiree sat silent, not knowing what to say next.

“Dad did what he thought was right and , God knows, we were raised to believe in our country and all that. But the stories I hear from guys who’ve been in Vietnam make me want to puke. It’s not the war Dad was in. The reporters don’t tell half the story, even if they’ve been trying lately. But it’s not just that. Hell, I go deer hunting every year with Tal and his friends and every year I have to pretend I like it. I don’t. I never have. Imagine that, a southern boy who doesn’t like guns or shooting. Pull up a gun and shoot another human being? I can’t do it, Lizzie. I just can’t.”

No, it's not the most romantic part of the story. I just like Mark, my female protagonist's youngest brother.

 

 

An Almost Never-Ending Writing List

So I'm writing, that's been established. I thought I would actually write a list to keep myself honest and on track. Do I know what I'm doing? That is a question I don't know the answer to right now. Who knows?

Writing projects (as of December 2012)

StClare Chronicles (all are "working" titles)

·                 "Rain" first draft completed April 2, 2013

·                 "Breaking Precedent"

·                 "Fatherhood"

·                 "Couples and Pairs"

·                 "Scenes from a Wedding"

·                 "Snow"

·                 "Summer Heat"

·                 "Evelyn and Alexander"

·                 "Spring Break"

            Of all those, only one is complete and it's a short story which will probably never be published or even submitted for consideration. Two are being written right now; three have only been started. The last three are just ideas with titles and principals in my head. I don't know if I dare even begin them right now. "Snow" really doesn't belong here but it started here so I'm keeping here.

Fairy Tales

            "Dani's Song" is complete; actually has been completed for some time now. It was written back in the 90's. Two laboriously printed copies were given away to the ones I dedicated the story to. It was a birthday present, you see. Currently I brought it back out, decided it wasn't too bad. So I've teamed up with my friend Tasha,an artist who likes fairy tales and fantasy, and we (she, actually) are working on some illustrations. When the illustrations and editing are done, "Dani's Song" will go up on Kindle.

            "Dragon in the Snow" is another one. I have started writing snippets but have put it on the back burner, so to speak.

Other Projects

            "Familiar Strangers" is the third major story I'm working on. Like "Rain" and "Snow", it's a romance, aka 'love story', too. Heck, all of them are. Some are just more traditonally romances than others. But that's another posting.

Future Ideas

·                 "Taste of a Man"

·                 "Troika"

 

            I think I'm going to stop now before even more pop up in my mind. Now to get the bloody things written and some characters (who shall not named--nags, the lot of you!) off my back. Enough, wouldn't you say?

 

 

 

 

 

Today's Quote:

 

The bravest thing you can do when you are not brave is to profess courage and act accordingly.- Corra Harris