Beckie and I had lunch today. It was a celebration. I finished NOLA and she got a book contract. Her publisher is looking at a three-book deal. Not bad for a newbie, right?!
The Astros won the World Series tonight. That makes me happy because I’m not really a Dodgers fan, and any team that beats the Yankees deserves a true shot at the ring.
I started writing CENTRAL today. Mostly because it’s November first and I don’t want to miss out on NaNoWriMo. And believe it or not, I picked up two small editing projects for the month.
I still can’t get my head around the fact I’m done writing NOLA. At least the first draft. It what everybody told me it would be. The squeals of excitement. The pride. The thrill of email responses from the editor and almost-agent and alpha readers. And when the edits happen, I’m okay with it. Because I have this version, the first version. And I’m really happy with that.
My brain is absolute mush and absolute electricity. I miss Rain and Josie, and yet they’re right here. I can’t wait for the Swarm to meet them.
One of my trusted Swarm Team members is Lindsay Reine. Girl, you have been a font of information and creativity. NOLA wouldn’t be half as genuine without your input. Thank you.
I had asked Lindsay to write a blurb on Halloween in New Orleans, and because I was unable to post it yesterday, here it is. Enjoy!
Halloween in New Orleans
Ahhhhh October, one of my most favorite times of the year. Generally the weather starts to get cooler, we have Saints and LSU Football, the humidity does down, people are happier (everyone is happier when they are not sweating), and it’s festival time!
I know New Orleans is famous for Mardi Gras, and we love carnival time, but did you know we have year round amazing festivals? The Po-Boy festival is a huge hit, oyster festival, tons of music festivals, the list goes on. In my opinion, the most pleasant festivals are held during the Louisiana winters. I say “Louisiana winter” because we don’t actually have a winter, we have a few weeks with slightly cooler weather and we love it.
But this is October, y’all know what happens in October? Halloween!
You have all heard the tales of the spirits and spooks that haunt the South. The superstitious, voodoo, magic, the high Priestesses, the casket girls, the souls that suffered gory deaths and the happy haunts have their stories told more frequently this time of year.
You see, here in New Orleans, the city comes to life and is energized by the curious visitors and all knowing locals speaking the words of old and suspicious tales of the new. When you get goosebumps here, it is not from the cold, but more of a reaction to the eerie feeling that something unseen is present. If you are looking for an intense “other world” experience, your curiosity will be more than fulfilled here.
All cities have their fair share of psychics who want to tell you the future. Not only does New Orleans have those, it also has people trained in the art of reading tea leaves to tell your story. This is intriguing to many as they say, you can see the tea leaves form shapes in the bottom of the tea cup. The historic Bourbon Street is no stranger to the strange as many have reported unusual events happening that can only be explained by calling it a haunting. Apparently the street is not only known for its alcoholic “spirits” consumption but for its resident “spirits” as well.
It’s been said that a ghost can follow you home, who is willing to visit New Orleans to find out?
And Frankly, My Dear . . . : That’s all she wrote!
There’s a Louis L’Amour quote I discovered years ago when reading his short story collection.
Frankly, My Dear . . .: Louis L’Amour, The Beginning
That’s never been more true to me than this very minutes.
Fifteen minutes ago, I typed the most beautiful words.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : The End
I’ve both dreaded and looked for this moment for years. In the last months, weeks, days it became increasingly difficult for me to not be emotional. I felt I was building up to a loss in my life. Soon I would finish, type those two last words, and say good bye to these characters I’ve grown to love.
Oh, but that’s so not true. I’ve not lost them. I’ve set them free. Now is the part everyone told me would come. Now I send them to my editor, my almost-agent, my alpha readers. Now I let others start to discover the beauty of NOLA.
Now, instead of ending this world, I get to share it.
Now comes the real beginning of the life of NOLA.
But first, beignets and chicory.
Happy reading, y’all.
It’s time for This Girl to get some rest.
When I started writing NOLA, there was no question she would be a character. I just didn’t know what kind of character. Oh, sorry. I guess all y’all will have to wait til it’s published to find out the details. #sorrynotsorry
When SuperGirl went to New Orleans last spring, she captured some beautiful photos and has given me permission to share them here. Now, they’re not Ms. Laveau’s tomb, but with the stormy skies and the reaching branches, the effect is still wonderfully creepy. So, you know. Thanks, Cara.
Frankly, My Dear . . .: The Mysterious New Orleans
Marie was known for her, shall we call them, abilities to help people out of tricky situations. She was a great people-reader. Scholars believe, while she practiced Louisiana Voodoo, it was actually her talent for understanding people that brought her the recognition she now has. She’s been rumored to have been a hairstylist, mistress, midwife, and nurse. All the kinds of professions where people share their secrets. It could explain her vast knowledge of her community.
Then again . . .
It’s also said she had a daughter who looked like her twin. This gave rise to the rumor that Marie had died and lived again. It’s also been rumored she never had a child.
So what is the truth?
Marie was a troublemaker who never got into trouble. She disrupted her neighborhood more than once with her wild Voodoo parties. When the police were called, they rarely found reason to arrest her. The few times they did, she was known to be released against unreasonable odds.
She sold gris-gris (Mojo bags), cast spells, laid (and lifted) curses, told fortunes, and mixed potions. People sought her help when their situations seemed helpless.
Even as a Voodoo priestess, Marie was a strong practicing Catholic. New Orleans blends the two religions without shame or apology.
During her life–that’s her real life, not the I-don’t-know-if-she’s-undead-or-not life–she cultivated a reputation that reigns to this day. She’s known as the Voodoo Queen of New Orleans, and people still flock to her tomb in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 to pray for her interventions.
Frankly, My Dear . . . : This is New Orleans (excerpt from NOLA)
Her death house is marked with triple X’s. To petition her, a person must draw three X’s, turn around three times, knock on the tomb, and yell out their wish. If the wish is granted, they’re to come back, circle their own X’s and leave an offering for Marie. The offering can be as simple as flowers, coins, Mardi Gras beads, candles, and other trinkets. As long as it shows appreciation for Marie and her works.
Due to recent bouts of vandalism, the cemetery (also known as the City of the Dead) no longer allows visitors without a tour guide.
In a culture rich with a haunted past, Marie Laveau lives on in modern-day New Orleans.
I know, y’all just had an update not too long ago. Thing is, things are getting good. They’re getting done. They’re getting, well, you know. Out there.
So, earlier today I had a tiny emo moment on the FB NOLA Swarm Group page. It went something like this:
“Feeling a bit stressed as I sit to write today. Wrenched my back earlier which makes sitting . . . or standing . . . or walking . . . or breathing . . . uncomfortable. It’s the third time in a month this has happened, so I know today isn’t debilitating. But it surely is distracting.
I’ve been taking my mind off things by watching my NOLA-based shows: Nightwatch, NCIS, Double Jeopardy, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. (Big surprise on that last one, right?). I’ve been thinking about my proposal and the compare/contrast section. Been thinking about my new day job and the budget and traveling to see family and friends next year.
Does it even make sense to anyone-ANYONE-that right now I want to box NOLA up and tuck it into a dark corner of the farthest away closet I can find?
What if it’s not as good as I think it is? What if I didn’t just miss the mark, but missed the entire target? What if the end doesn’t justify the means?
What if all this soul bleeding means nothing in the end except over five years of wasted time and attention and energy?
So I hope you understand when I say as wonderful as this is, being so close to finished, today I just want to crawl back into bed and cry. Getting ready to say goodbye to my baby is so hard.
But here’s the thing about writing: I can’t *not* do it. I can’t have NOLA sit around, going nowhere. Do I want it to stop? No. But there’s another journey for NOLA when the first draft is done. I call it the firefly aspect. It’s where I let my little larvae grow wings and glow its way to my alpha readers, my editor, and my agent; then, hopefully, into the hearts of others like you and so many more.
And then I’ll talk all y’all with me to CENTRAL, where you’ll meet Nick and Serenity. And then to KEYS with Anastasia and Littleman. And then FLINT, and HI, and PORT, and STRIP, and TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES. And more.
But know this: no matter how much I write, how many cities are in this series, NOLA will always be my first, and greatest love.
And, I hope, yours too.
I love you all for being on this journey with me and keeping me grounded.
With much adoration and appreciation,
~Molly Jo”
But after that, I hunkered down, said a few prayers, and started. I took my little Post-It notes, my little scraps of paper, and I processed. Every. Single. One.
And I closed out the day with 2,131 new words. I have less than 8,000 to go to my desired word goal. And I have a plan.
In addition to writing end material, I’ve been adding clues throughout. Hints of this and that. Why does this character do these things? If it’s important, they need to do it often. If not, they need to do it less. What about the weather? Yes, I’m from California. The desert, no less. But really. If you’re reading a book set in New Orleans, how often can I mention the humidity before y’all are rolling your eyes and saying, “Okay, we get it!”?
And I’m keeping notes. On the manuscript. On paper. Because I’m also writing what comes next. I can’t wait to write those two words when it’s finished. Nope, I’m not even gonna write them here. Because when I’m ready, like really ready, I want them to be authentic. Official. Not practiced, not sampled, not automatic.
Those two final words at the end of the first draft . . . They’re coming, my friend.
Stay tuned.
Oh, and here’s a new meme to get all y’all’s attention.
