Diana Pharaoh Francis | Diana P. Francis | Diana Francis » drafting

These things are true

Di Francis — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 00:07:32 +0000

The new printer arrived. Well, it looks new, though it’s probably refurbished, but the important thing is that it actually prints. Whoohoo! Actually, I had to delete all the previous software and redownload, so it wasn’t as easy as just plug and play, but I’ll take it and be grateful.

We are expecting a storm. The number of inches of snow to fall varies by forecast, though my best guess is somewhere between 1 and 10. Yeah, I’m going to hit that target with a shotgun blast. Uhhuh. If it snows, sledding may follow, though right now, the way the wind is whipping, I want to hunch down by the fire with some tea and a book and just stay there. Sadly, there is still work to be done. No rest from the day jobbery. I think I should probably dig out my snow boots.

Work on Blood Winter is continuing apace. which is to say, not as fast as I should like because things have not gone as expected plotwise. It’s really interesting to hear from people what they think will happen, since I thought I knew and now I’m really not so sure. I’m totally pantsing it at this point, though I do still know some things.

I can tell you there’s action. Lots. Did you expect different? Also, I struggled with whether or not to include Alexander’s POV. He’s not around in the first seven or eight chapters, and I wondered if it would be weird to bring him back in so late. Well, I decided weird or not, I would do it, and looking back, I think I’m liking the way that went. So hopefully it’s not terribly odd. I also thought about having Giselle’s point of view, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in her head yet. She’s still struggling with herself and I like how Max and she deal with one another without knowing what she’s thinking.

A snippet from Blood Winter

Di Francis — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 22:43:00 +0000

So this is rough, but from Blood Winter:

“Quit wasting time,” Max said. “Give me your pain now.”

“I—”

For a moment Max thought she was going to have to pull Giselle into the abyss, far away from any attack. Then suddenly an ugly, grinding sensation flowed through her wrists followed by an unholy itching. It chewed its way up her arms and sank into her bones. The feeling was relentless. It gnawed in places she couldn’t reach. Her fingers curled, her nails digging hard into Giselle’s wrists. Bones compressed and cracked. Giselle made a high pitched sound that instantly cut off. It was all Max could do not to let go and scrape at the merciless sensations enveloping her. But if she did, Giselle wouldn’t be able to concentrate.

“Fix this,” Max hissed through clenched teeth. She’d suffered plenty before—pain of every kind. But this was different. It found places she’d not realized existed and it inflammed them with a violent itch. She want to rip herself apart to get at it. It was indescribably horrific.

Giselle’s face was set in a mask of cold fury. Once again her body had become her own. Her magic lost it’s tangled, matted look and became elegant, roping around her in muscular vines. She wrenched one hand free and gripped Max’s wrist with the other. Giselle towed her to the wall with sharp, determined strides and slapped one hand flat to the stone.

Abandoning standards

Di Francis — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 03:58:39 +0000

I’ve got a post on writing and abandoning standards up on Magical Words today. Come visit!

Snippet

Di Francis — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 22:14:21 +0000

A breeze ruffled the trees overhead and Max swiveled her head, sniffing the air. Uncanny magic pooled thick in the canyon. It was an odd combination of bitter and sweet—like a mouthful of salt and cigar butts all drenched in honey. The Divine magic was wafted through in thin curls. It was both caustic and sweetly pungent, like lye and pachouli. Mixed in were human smells—sweat, blood and flesh. A rank wet smell coated the back of Max’s throat. It reminded her of black mold and carrion.

Crimson Wind updatery

Di Francis — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 04:06:39 +0000

So today I got back into the groove of Crimson Wind, following the holidays and cold. I ended up writing 3200 words today, which makes me very happy. It means I may have found my way back into the groove. I think I even like a lot of it. Which is more than I can say about what came before, but I’m not sure if I can trust my own opinion on those other chapters since I had such a hard time with them having to draft them four different times. But I’m on track again and very pleased.

One of the things that’s been difficult is getting back into the heads of the characters. Max is easier than Alexander, especially since he’s more transitional. What I mean is that he’s undergone more changes and has to find his footing and identity again. That means he’s changing and developing, which means he’s in flux for me. But he’s about to go bad ass. More bad ass than before. It should be fun.

And now, a snippet from Crimson Wind.

She was watching him with cold implacability. Magic curled in her eyes like ribbons of smoke. Even this depeleted, she still had deep reserves of power.

“Never forget what I can do to you,” she said. “That was just a tiny tast of what will happen to you if you let anything happen to her.”

“She runs after trouble like starving sharks after blood,” he rasped.

“Yes. No doubt that will make the trip more interesting for you. Now go. It’s nearly dark.”

He hesitated then nodded respectfully and left. Outside, he found Niko at his side.

“Damn. That looked like it hurt,” the other man said with an unsympathetic grin. “Glad it wasn’t me.”

Alexander tossed him a baleful look but did not rise to the bait. “So where is Max? I do not want her to leave without me.”

Niko’s expression turned grim and a chill spidered down Alexander’s spine.

“Where is she?” he demanded.