July 28, 2017

With the completion of a Jason/Carly scene, I officially crossed the 50,000 word threshold for winning CampNaNoWrimo. I logged six chapters, and one scene from the seventh chapter as work I’ll be keeping and moving forward with. That’s about 30,000 words. Another 10,000 words for a draft I didn’t keep, maybe 10,000 for outlining and plotting out the new draft. The way NaNoWriMo works is that you have to write 50,000 words even if you’re not going to keep everything you wrote. I literally cannot remember the last time I wrote that much in one month.

I still have the rest of today and three full days so I’d like to write another 20,000 words to officially make it 50,000 words kept for Mad World, but we’ll see how it goes. As a celebration, I am posting two versions of a Jason/Elizabeth scene from the discarded draft. I had originally envisioned Mad World as taking place in 2004 in the wake of Sam’s pregnancy, Kristina’s paternity, and Cameron’s birth, but I’ve now moved it back year to place it in the context of the panic room storyline, keeping many of the same elements.

I’ll keep you guys posted for how it continues to go, moving forward into August. Make sure you’re following me on Twitter @crimsonglass, #crimsonglass for specifically CG related tweets.

Continue reading

July 24, 2017

So I’m working on the logistics for Mad World — I wrote a ton, but then I had to kind of stop, and look at the product so far and start figuring out what I haven’t written yet and what order the scenes should go in. Something I’ve done to mostly keep myself on track about what’s happening when is to use dates at the top of every chapter or when a scene in a chapter happens on a different day.

I found myself doing it for Mad World and wondering if this is something I should delete from the final product? I mean, it’s useful to me to know so I can keep weekends straight and I don’t have two Saturdays or whatever. But is it something the reader gives a damn about? So give me a shout in the poll and let me know what you think.

July 15, 2017

I posted a new Micro Fiction, Birthdays and Anniversaries. It’s not connected to the last two mostly because I was n’t sure where to go next, and I saw this prompt. I wrote it about 22 minutes. I had set my timer for 20 minutes, but I wasn’t quite at an ending spot, so I cheated a bit 😛

Camp NaNoWriMo update: the writing is going well, but my schedule was cranky this week so I didn’t get as far as I wanted. However, what I’m writing I absolutely love. I have today and tomorrow completely off with only laundry to do, so I’m just going to write until I stop. I took a break to write this and I hope to get a Flash Fiction in tomorrow.

Make sure you’re following me on Twitter. I usually post about my writing progress and usually mark the timer for Micro Fiction, but I forgot today, haha.

This entry is part 3 of 5 in the series Micro Fiction

The cupcake was iced with garishly pink cream and some sort of candy hearts and it was set in front of her with candle already lit.

“Make a wish.”

Elizabeth Webber propped her chin on her fist and gave her best friend a dirty look. “Wishes are for kids. Birthdays are for kids. Who told you?”

“I snuck a look at your driver’s license when I realized we’d been working together for a year and it hadn’t come up.” Johnny Zacchara shrugged. “Blow it out.”

“Bite me.”

“Thought about it,” he said carelessly as he sat across from her, behind his side of their battered partner’s desk in their shabby office. “It wouldn’t work.”

“That’s because you laugh too much,” she muttered, eying the cupcake as it were toxic poison. “It distracted me. Also, you don’t do it for me.” Though it was a mystery because Johnny was, objectively speaking, pretty fucking sexy with his dark hair, soft brown eyes, and killer smile. And yet… “And your girlfriend would kick my ass.”

“This is true. Nadine is tiny, but feisty.” Johnny frowned now. “The candle is going to melt the cupcake if you don’t blow it out. C’mon, Bits. Make a wish.”

“Wishes are bullshit,” she muttered. “Fine. You know what I wish for?”

“Jesus, don’t say it. That’s not how this works.” He looked faintly horrified. “They don’t come true if you say them outloud.”

“God save me from Catholics and their superstitions.” She sighed. “Fine. I’ll wish something to myself, I’ll blow this out, and we can go back to work.”

“It has to be a real wish, not something stupid—”

“There are a lot of rules for a goddamn birthday cupcake,” Elizabeth retorted. She closed her eyes and decided what the hell. She wanted to see Jason. Just one more time. She opened her eyes, blew out the candle, and then shoved the cupcake across the desk. “You eat it. I’m not in the mood for a sugar rush. I have a defendant I have to keep from going to prison for the rest of his life.”

“You’re no fun,” Johnny said, but he grabbed the cupcake, tossed the candle, and ate it. Then he mercifully stopped reminding her it was her goddamn birthday, got back to work, and let her work in peace.

A half hour later, he headed home to the lovely Nadine while Elizabeth continued reviewing the lab reports for court the next morning. If she had a prayer of keeping Dillon Quartermaine from doing ten to fifteen years for a crime he hadn’t committed, she needed to keep her head in the game and poke as many holes into the DA’s case as possible.

A knock on the door to their suite distracted her about an hour after Johnny had left. She blinked bearily when the knock sounded again, but realized it was likely that their receptionist had left for the day. “Come in—it should be open.”

“It’s not.”

The voice was muffled, but its identity was unmistakable.

Elizabeth rose slowly to her feet and went into the cramped room that served as their waiting room, passing the wastebasket where she could see the gaudy cupcake wrapping and the candle still decorated with icing. “What the fuck are you?” she muttered down.

She slowly unlocked the deadbolt and tugged it open to find out that she was not, as hoped, hallucinating.

Lieutenant Jason Morgan was, indeed, standing at the threshold of her office.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, and then winced because damn if that hadn’t sounded like more angry than she had intended. Well, better than happy or relieved, or aroused. Because she was all of those things to. He didn’t dress like a high-ranking member of the Port Charles Police Department—not in his jeans that wouldn’t be called tight, but they certainly clung to the right parts, and a t-shirt that stretched across a broad chest with rippling muscles.

God he was gorgeous.

And standing in front of her. Fucking birthdays.

“You gonna let me in?” he asked, his brow arched.

She stepped back to do so, closing the door when he passed her. He turned at the tiny desk that Maxie Jones usually sat behind and faced her. “What are you doing here?” Elizabeth tried again, and was pleased her tone was way more even than it had been before.

“It’s your birthday,” Jason said, leaning against the desk. “Did you think I’d forget?”

Hoping. Praying. “You did last year.”

“You told me not to come by last year,” he reminded her. “But this year…well, it’s been two years. I wanted to check in.”

Check in. Sure. “Well, you’ve checked in. I’m alive. Looks like you are, too. Great. I have court tomorrow.” She went back to her desk.

“You always have court tomorrow,” Jason retorted as he followed. “Are you seriously still mad at me?”

No. Yes. Damn it. “I don’t know,” she muttered, but she felt better behind her desk. “Are you still mad at me?” she demanded.

He hesitated. “I don’t know,” he echoed. “I just…it’s been two years. I just thought…we should acknowledge it.”

“It’s been acknowledged. Your sister is dead and it’s my fault. You made that clear then, and since you can’t decided if you’re still mad or not, you still think so.” She shrugged. “So if there’s anything else…”

“Damn it.” It was more of a hiss than an actual swear, but he closed his eyes for a minute. “I came here to check on you, yeah. But also…Diego Alcazar escaped from Sing Sing about three hours ago, and I thought he might…”

“Come to finish what he started.” Her bones chilled. “Because he escaped on my birthday and the anniversary of the day he killed Emily and nearly killed me.”

July 12, 2017

Hey! Checking in to let you guys know what’s going on since there’s actually stuff to care about. I had back to back family parties this weekend and work, so I didn’t have energy for Micro or Flash Fiction. I’ll have them both this week at some point.

I wrote about 10,000 words for Mad World last week but it just was not working. I kept changing tiny pieces but it just felt like I was punishing myself for some reason. So I stopped on Sunday night and I just started writing about what I wanted the story to be. What story I wanted to tell, the meaning I wanted my characters to have.

And…I completely changed the story. It’s still called Mad World, but I’ve moved it to the summer of 2003 and made it almost a rewrite of the aftermath of the panic room storyline. And after that, I wrote 5000 words like it didn’t matter.

And this morning, I wrote a Jason and Elizabeth scene that was about 800 words in 20 minutes and I loved every single word of it. I think the story I’m going to tell now is so much better and I’m so much happier with it. So yeah, Mad World is going to be completely different but some of the same strains will be the same which is why I’m keeping the title.

I have to update the graphics for it since I dumped the entire Brooke, Alexis, and Ned stuff and the page will be updated when I have a chance. But things are going well with my writing for the first time in a year, and I’m really happy about it.

July 5, 2017

First, I just posted Micro Fiction #2: Spontaneous Combustion, Part 2.  It’s a crazy little story that probably isn’t very close to character, but I need to loosen up and just have fun. I’ve published more fiction in the last two weeks than likely the entire last eight months so I imagine you guys aren’t complaining 😛 I wrote it in about 19 minutes so I feel good about that.

I post on Twitter and Facebook when I set the clock for the flash and micro fictions, so make sure you follow me on both. At the moment, my Twitter is personal and related to Crimson Glass, so you’ll get both.

Camp NaNoWriMo is going pretty well actually. I’ve figured out what’s wrong with this draft and I found some fun ways to fix it. I like where it’s going. I’ve written 11200 words total, but since I eliminated some aspects, only about 3000 words are going to be kept after the month is over. I’m looking to get to my original 50,000 goal with the new version.

This entry is part 2 of 5 in the series Micro Fiction

“Tell me about San Diego.”

Elizabeth stared down at her husband of three days, still out of breath and even a bit sweaty from another long afternoon spent in their honeymoon suite. “Now?” she managed.

“Well,” Jason replied, not sounding at all exhausted despite the marathon of fantastic sex—God, she loved that stamina. “I figure this is the best bet for you talk to me for more than five minutes.”

“We’ve talked,” she grumbled as she slid off him, dragging the cool sheets over her heated skin.

“More and faster aren’t what I hadn’t in mind,” was his only response. He dragged on a pair of black briefs, crossed to the mini fridge on the other side of the room and tossed her a bottle of water. She dragged herself up against the pillows and sighed as she twisted off the top. “We’re leaving for Port Charles tomorrow and we still don’t know anything about each other except where we’re from and our names.” He raised a brow at her. “I know you said we’d just…have fun for a while and that’s fine. But you’re coming to live at my house.”

And would be supporting her for a bit while she got back on her feet, but she was grateful that he had left that part out.

“There’s not much to tell,” she said after another minute, a bit disappointed he hadn’t rejoined her in bed but maybe that had been smart. She was getting really good at distracting them both. “I grew up in Colorado and went to college there. I have a degree in art history but there’s not really much I can do with that. I taught for a bit, but I got laid off. I thought…there was something for me in San Diego, but I was completely wrong.”

She hesitated then, not really sure how much she wanted him to know. He was a great guy and sexy as well, but there was some spots she didn’t want to poke too deeply. “Things went south there, and I had to get out. I had been saving for…” The future. A life. “But I was in such a bad place, I just kind of said screw it and booked a flight to somewhere that wasn’t San Diego. Cabo was the first available.”

“What about your things in San Diego? Do you need them shipped out?”

“I put anything that mattered in a storage locker and paid two months,” Elizabeth said. “I figured I could decide the next step from there.” She arched her own brows. “Tell me about Port Charles.”

“I guess you’re not really interested in the local sights and gossip.” He sipped his own water. “I was engaged to someone I’d dated for a long time. Someone who was with me before I made any money, so I thought that meant something. And then about a week ago, I came home from a road trip and I guess she’d lost track of time because she was screwing my brother in our bedroom.” He lifted a shoulder. “Kicked them both out, went to sleep, and decided to go on the honeymoon anyway.”

It didn’t look like he was much interested in discussing the ex or brother based on the way his eyes shifted away from hers, so she asked the next question. “Road trip? Money? What exactly do you do?”

He grinned then, a lightning quick one that lit up his entire face in a way that she hadn’t seen outside of bed. “You really don’t know.”

“No,” she muttered, feeling stupid. He wasn’t a movie star or anything or he wouldn’t be living in upstate New York. “Am I supposed to?”

“No.” Jason shook his head and took a long swig of water. “No, I guess I’ve just been living in a bubble. I play baseball with the Port Charles Rebels.” He grimaced. “God it’s a stupid fucking name, but all the good ones are taking.”

“Baseball,” Elizabeth repeated dubiously. “I know the Yankees. And the Padres, but that’s because I lived near the stadium. You…is it professional? I mean—” She pursed her lips. “You play sports.”

“Yeah. The Rebels are an expansion team—” He shook his head when she just blinked at him. “Never mind. I grew up in Port Charles so I thought it’d be good for all of us when I was claimed in the expansion draft. Close to both our families.” Jason snorted and finished the water. “Anyway. Yeah, people know me. Usually. I played in the All-Stars game last year.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth tilted her head. “Okay. So…that sounds like fun. Um…” What the hell should she say next? The only thing she knew about baseball was from the movies.

He laughed then and climbed back into bed with her. “You know what? I think we’ve talked enough for one night.”

“Oh, thank God.”

July 1, 2017

I know I said I was going to continue last week’s Flash Fiction, but Gayle Callen released Love With a Scottish Outlaw and it made me want to dust off A King’s Command. All parts of that story have been renamed, btw, so its A King’s Command, Part 1, Part 2, etc.

So enjoy Flash Fiction #11: A King’s Command, Part 5.

Today is the first day of Camp NaNoWriMo, which is similar to the November writing event except this fits my schedule so much better than November has the last two years.  I wrote over 2000 words today and hope to keep going tomorrow. I’m working on Mad World, so I can kind of do something different recharge my creative juices. So far it’s going well. I had written a bit of it before the kick off, and I have about 6000 words overall. I’m feeling better about my writing than I have in months so I’m looking forward to keeping the flow going.

Hope you guys are enjoying the updates!

This entry is part 5 of 5 in the series Workshop: A King's Command

The way forward was not immediately clear. Jason wanted to leave Elizabeth in their room, locked securely behind a door guarded by his most trusted men while he hunted down the bastard who had stolen their child and attempted to murder his wife.

But that was never an option—not after Elizabeth had reluctantly admitted that she had spent the greater portion of her own childhood in such circumstances.

He would have to allow her into the world even if it meant he would put her safety at risk.

But first, he had to take a stand with his family.

His aunt swept into their room several days after Elizabeth had first left the bed. Her color had returned but she still tired easily and was only just managing to take solid foods.

Tracy pursed her lips as she took in the swaddled figure in the chair by the fire before turning her attention back to her nephew. “I am relieved to see your wife is feeling better.”

“Are you?” Jason replied with his brows raised. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Do not think your behavior these last six months has gone unnoticed, Aunt. Your place here has been important, but—”

“Husband…” Elizabeth said, softly. She rose to her feet, keeping a shawl tucked around her shoulders. He scowled at her but she ignored him as she joined his side. “Your aunt tested me and I failed. I did not push for a place here. Truth be told, I did not think I would be able to measure up. I was not expected to make any marriage at all, much less to a Highland chieftain who required a better wife than I.”

“Elizabeth,” Jason growled, but she put a hand on his arm.

“’Tis true and you know it. I wanted peace and a family. I wanted to be a good wife to you—”

“You have—”

“Perhaps to the man,” Elizabeth agreed with a half smile. She looked to Tracy. “But I am not merely married to Jason Morgan, the man, but Jason, the laird, and I have a responsibility to that position.”

Tracy raised her chin. “Aye, you do. And this clan deserves better—”

“Tracy—”

“But they have me,” Elizabeth said, again interrupting him. “I do not know if the poison given to me was meant nefariously or to free Jason from a disadvantageous marriage. I cannot think they wanted to prevent the birth of a child as no one knew of the bairn.” Her voice slipped then, and this time she did not argue as Jason steered her back to the chair by the fire.

Tracy shifted, uncomfortably. “It is still difficult to imagine of our own could do such a thing. I wish I could maintain it was an accident, but Barbara has assured me it could not have been. I…have not been as welcoming as I ought to have been to the wife of my nephew. The king chose you—I ought not to have questioned it. And…” She looked at Jason, the bedgrudging fondness clear in her expression. “It is quite obvious you have been a good wife to Jason.”

“I have tried,” Elizabeth said, softly. “But ‘tis time for me to be the lady of this clan. My mother did not prepare me for such things. I would like to be worthy of the name the king and my husband have given me.”

“That is ridiculous,” Jason began.

“If it ‘tis your wish to learn how to go on, to run this keep, I will see it done. It will be your children that will inherit, not mine after all.” She hesitated again. “I am sorry for the loss of the child. We have long looked forward to the birth of a new generation. For Jason to have strong sons to continue our fine traditions. And Dillon has told me of your wish to be a mother.”

Elizabeth looked away, towards the fire, tears burning in her eyes again. “Aye,” she murmured.

“Jason’s mother lost three children before their first birthday, and two more were never born,” Tracy said, matter of factly. “I lost two of my own, including my eldest son in battle. Highland women bury their children. Their sons in warfare, their daughters in childbirth. ‘Tis our duty to move forward, to look to the future. You conceived once, you will be with child again. We will take your safety seriously.” She looked to Jason. “I apologize if my behavior led any in the clan to think I would countenance such an action.”

She nodded to Elizabeth and left.

Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “I think that your aunt accidentally called me a Highland woman.”

Jason managed a smile as he knelt before. “’Tis her guilt speaking. She’ll be calling you a Sassenach again tomorrow. I…I do not believe she was involved.”

“No, I do not think so. She would come at me directly. She never pretended to like. I have always known where I stand.”

“I want it to be clear, Elizabeth, that in no way have you disappointed me. You are my wife and that is the end of it.”

She managed a slight chuckle as she brushed her fingertips against his cheek. “And I am grateful every day to my king and to God for that fact because I truly believe it. But we will have a child one day. A son who will follow you, and he deserves a strong mother. I have been hiding these last months, content in these four walls to be a good wife in private. But I want more. I want to take my place by your side and gain the respect of your men because I deserve it, not because you have commanded it.”

“I…am terrified,” Jason managed to say, likely using that word for the first time, “that I do not know who my enemies are. That they may come for you again.”

“I am terrified every day you leave this room. I have worried for months that you will be taken from me by someone you trust. I do not believe they will come for me again, but for you. But I do not wish to live my life afraid of all that might happen and miss it entirely.”

He nodded. “All right. We will try it your way. I will find the man responsible, Elizabeth. And I will keep you safe.”

Just a quick update to note some site cleaning up. I realized that I hadn’t updated my Recent Updates page since about September 1. This is the page that literally just lists what’s been added, updated, or changed without any of the chatter or fluff. It’s easier to keep up with what you’ve missed if you don’t subscribe to the website. That is now current through last night.

I also realized I hadn’t added the small ficlet I wrote last year, Cast Me Gently, to my Ficlet page. One of the things I want to do as part of my overall creative process is finish making the tiny little title images. They can often keep my creative juices flowing when I haven’t been able to write.

I plan to come back tonight with a Flash Fiction. Also, Camp NaNoWriMo starts today, so I’m going to be digging into that as part of my monthly priorities. Nora Roberts once said that you can’t fix a blank page and I’m trying to take that mantra to heart.

If you haven’t subscribed to updates from Crimson Glass, I encourage you to do so particularly during this period when my updates are erratic. I hope to be back on a regular schedule by the end of the year, but for now, getting an email in your inbox would probably be easier.  There’s a subscription link in the sidebar underneath Recently Updated Novels.

Thanks guys! I’ll see you later tonight!