Author: jenjiveg

Epilogue Snipet

Angela resisted the urge to fan herself with a dirty napkin. Instead, she gazed around the rooftop terrace for a newly minted shady spot before someone else spied it. It was this search that held her attention as Emmett and Ben talked research.

Yes, I’m writing again…I moved my computer in front of my window. It’s like creative crack.


Ego strikes again is now I’m hoping this will inspire me to do more with this site than show up and write or edit something every couple of years or five.

The Kind of Writer I Am

I’m not much for lengthy self reflection, but when a writer friend asked for more description in a specific scene I wrote, I found myself defending

“The Kind of Writer I Am.”

(You should imagine me reading that bit in a strained and passionate failure at Morgan Freeman’s voice. Go ahead, give it another go.)

For the record, she was not asking me to be something I’m not. Her comment was valid and constructive. But it struck a chord, because, like humans, I tend to read into things that people say sometimes.

I began my response as a preemptive defense of why I chose to avoid denoting specific emotions in the scene.

I ended up on a soap box.

After I got off the box, I decided I needed to save this little gem of egoism for holidays and other special occasions, like when I feel like I’ve failed to live up to who I am as a writer. Here it is:

I like the idea of whatever it is being ambivalent, here. I don’t think the character could pick a specific emotion. She’d have to root around in her head to get it, and by then, the moment would be stale, and the reader would be looking at a perfectly rendered still life, instead of the poignant impressionistic painting I was going for. In my opinion, that’s the kind of writer I am. I don’t like to dictate what the character feels. I like to describe the impression of the feeling. To me, that feels more real. We don’t walk around saying “I feel good. I feel bad. I feel bittersweet.” If we have inner monologues at all, we comment on the physicality of our lives and the residual leftovers of memories that we play over and over. The emotion doesn’t exist separately from the living.

So, yeah.

Of course, in the very next paragraph after the scene I so brilliantly defended to a live studio audience, here’s what I wrote:

It felt nice.

Oh Irony. You are like a nagging mother to me.

An ending…

I just finished the first draft of the ending of my last fan fiction piece: Inappropriate Touching. I have an epilogue and outtake planned, which I hope to complete in the next few days.

Even if I don’t do them, as far as I am concerned, the story is told. The epilogue will revisit some of the secondary characters one more time, and give readers another HEA scene with E and B. The outtake is a surprise.

I plan to have chapter 24 up next week, maybe early in the week. The balance of the story will post as it is polished…every few days to a week.

Thanks again to everyone who has been supportive of this project.



I needed to read this today

Today, I’m a bit stuck. New ideas keep tickling me, and I’m dying to move on to something else.

So, I decided to get out and explore the world a bit, see what would shake loose. This is my M.O., see? I sit around, try really hard not to think about writing until my head cracks open and new words fly out.

I went to the library, read newspapers, played around on Pinterest, and finally found myself picking through Twitter.

I was resigned that there would be no writing today…

And then this:

The 7 Cardinal Virtues of Successful Writers by Rob D. Young

I clicked the link, skimming the article preparing for a bout of self flagellation for being sinful, and then I got to the part about Self Control…

Sometimes you’ll need the simple, harsh self-control to finish your current work, even at the expense of your “next great idea.”

Yikes. Truth.

So. I’m not going to sit around and wring my hands, whining that everything that flows through my fingers is trite, pretentious, hypocritical or pedestrian.

I’m not going to make excuses about “not feeling it.” (Although it is one of my favorites)

I’m just going to write, dammit!

See you in 2000 words.