Oh God WTF did I just read?

Okay, so I love to carouse fan fiction. I love it. It's hilarious, disgusting, thought provoking, emotionally draining, and a lot of the times is a serious ego boost for me.

And once in a while, you find some absolute gems.

Hell, a couple of very good friends of mine were met and made through fan fiction.

But I've also had my (un)fair share of reading REALLY REALLY GODAWFULLY BAD fan fics.

I have a few triggers, and lately I have unintentionally found all the stories that make me want to bleach my brain and gouge out my eyes. I have the worst luck ever.

But thinking about it, I have to stop and laugh. It's just so insane.

I was also talking to my sister about this, about the horrible, scary fan fics out there, and how we KNOW most of the actors who portray these characters are aware that these stories exist. So my sister asked me a very interesting question.

"What would your reaction be, Kai, if you found out there were stories written about you like this?"

First off, I'd be flattered. Even if it wasn't ME per se, but just my CHARACTERS? Oh hell yes, GO FOR IT. I think that means I've reached a certain level of notoriety right? If my characters are busily humping each other in someone else's mind? Cool. I'm cool with that.

If you're writing about me specifically? (And don't deny it, it exists.) Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! You really couldn't think of someone better to fantasize about?

Okay, well, let's pretend that someone out there is writing fan fics about me. Based on what I've read, my reaction would be three-fold after I get over the initial flattery, shock and embarrassment.

First, wow. What most of these bad fics are suggesting is highly unlikely to be possible. I'm afraid of heights, even standing on a chair to change a lightbulb or get something off a high shelf SUCKS. And I'm honestly not THAT flexible. I get it, it's fantasy, but you gotta work with realism. (I'm not gonna let myself be tied in a knot and put on a shelf for a harem of sex-crazy demons to do what they please with. Or whatever the hell that was that was happening in that fan fic.)

I AM NOT THAT FLEXIBLE. I don't think anyone is. Try to remember that, okay, erotica writers?

Two, just 'cause YOU think it's sexy, doesn't mean we all do. Gotta remember those triggers, man. If you wanna know what my big ones that hit the "NOPE" switch are, just ask. I'm really not that pervy, I just pretend like I am because this is the internet and girls aren't welcome here.

And finally...

Dudes, seriously? You're writing bondage? And you have to stop the 'action' to get something to tie your characters up with? Holy SHIT. I wear a paracord bracelet 99.9% of the time, and if I'm not WEARING it, it's somewhere close at hand BECAUSE I CAN NEVER BE WITHOUT MY STUPID FUCKING ROPE.

Good Lord, I guess it all really does boil down to realism, doesn't it?

Well, now, I guess I should go back and finish reading these bad fan fics. I don't plan on sleeping any time soon...

Kai Kiriyama lives in the frozen north known as Canada with her pet snake, Rhaegar.

Yes, she actually does have a paracord bracelet. The current one is purple.

If you wanna know what makes her tick, feel free to contact her at any of the following locations:

email: thekiriyamaheir@gmail.com
twitter: @thekiriyamaheir
facebook: facebook.com/authorkkaikiriyama
tumblr: thekiriyamaheir.tumblr.com

Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey-Wimey, ball of Editing... Stuff

Remember how I said I HATE EDITING? Like... a lot?

Well, I've found myself faced with a deadline for a submission, so I'm finally getting off my lazy-creative, busy-as-all-get-out butt, and am working on editing a novel I wrote just under a year ago.

Now, I love this novel. A lot. I love the content, I love the plot, I love the concept, everything. It's new, it's exciting, it's a genre blend and I don't have to worry about political correctness, or with censoring myself, and there's no way that it could be misconstrued as a YA novel. (Which is a joke and is better left off unexplained until another blog post because I don't feel like going on a tangent about THAT can of worms right now.) And I've been sitting on this particular gem for almost a year, so I'm pretty detached from the world I so frantically built. (Normally, I like to edit immediately, but that was out of the question for this one, which is, again, another story for another time.)

Anyway, the first draft -- because that's what it currently is -- ended up at about 77,000 words. I was honestly impressed with that number, and wondered how many of those words would need to be cut when I edited. (So far, I haven't cut any, but there's probably around 20,000 that need to be completely rewritten.) Then I found out that the submission guidelines are looking for 80-90,000 words but would consider works with less than that.

Ouch.

Okay, so 3000 words to make it to the minimum number isn't a lot, in fact, it's a number that I'm strangely comfortable with.

But if you know me, you know that I'm a bit of an over-achiever.

I decided to aim to add about 15,000 more words to the manuscript because, why not? My only question was "where do I put all those new words?"

So naturally, I fretted about it, and fretted about it, and sent myself into a mini panic attack and then figured out where to put all those extra words in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep.

I decided that I would take my book's plot and split it into three sections, plus a prologue and an epilogue. (Because I love prologues. It's like a film teaser that warms up your audience and gets them excited before you bore them to death with back story and exposition. Ha ha! I'm an evil tease.)

Well, now you can see my problem: my plot. There's no real holes in my plot, but there are a few half-formed ideas that could be fleshed out and made more whole, more tangible, as it were. There's at least two characters who can be given a little more depth and dimension, and a few plot points that could be expanded upon. And, while we're at it, might as well give this world a bit of history, too.

Now it's looking like those 20,000 words that I was contemplating cutting get to stay with minor adjustments, because, why not? The ideas are there, and adding the extra words and splitting the story into three separate pieces means that each section has its own identity. It means that I can treat each section like a mini novel with a beginning, middle and end that leads into the next mini novel and so on.

It also means that I have to tear the manuscript apart and mess with its timeline.

It's one of my favorite things about being a writer, though. You get to pull apart your own timeline. You get to make it all wibbly-wobbly as you move pieces around to make a linear, coherent story. And, of course, there are fixed points in your story that you can't mess around with or else it creates a paradox!

My problem with this is that it is SO time consuming, and the copy and paste process of moving time around is kind of boring.

So basically, I put on a scarf and pretend I'm a TimeLord. I've gotta get back to this editing thing, before the world implodes.

Allons-y!

Kai Kiriyama lives in the frozen North, also known as Canada, with her pet snake Rhaegar. She is a novelist and a screenwriter (working towards publication) and is a regular contributor to Zombie Training Magazine. (www.zombietraining.com)

You can get in touch with Kai at any of the following locations:

Email: thekiriyamaheir@gmail.com
Twitter: @thekiriyamaheir
Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorkaikiriyama
Zombie Training: www.zombietraining.com

Milestone: First Rejection

I got my very first rejection letter today.

This is a new experience. I've been rejected before, for other jobs and whatever, but this was the first fiction story I've submitted to anything. Hence the first rejection letter I've ever received.

It was a simple, two line email that I made the mistake of reading before I was fully prepared to deal with anything today. [read: before I was properly caffeinated.] My initial reaction was to cry and to ostrich myself away forever. I didn't do either of those. My second reaction was to begin drinking immediately. But there was no alcohol in the house. I have since purchased some beer but have not started drinking yet, as I don't really feel the need to drown my sorrows with alcohol anymore.

I started to think about what this rejection means for me.

Well, first off, it means that I wasn't what the publisher was looking for. And that's okay. This was a short story that I had put an amazing effort into and yes, I'm pretty proud of how it turned out. I am smitten with my own ending. Definitely not something that I usually write, so that's a plus.

Secondly, it means that this story now has several options.

I could edit a bit more and submit it elsewhere, I could add more to the story and make it an actual novel (or novella if I'm feeling lazy) and submit it elsewhere, considering that it's a zombie story, I could probably get it cleared by ZT and have it printed in several instalments in the magazine, I could publish it on my blog for free reading...

The possibilities are not limited to what a single publisher is looking for. I am really only limited by my own time and imagination and drive to actually work on this story.

And that's all right, too.

I have a bunch of other projects on the go. Some are writing projects, some are personal projects, some are crafts, some are gifts... I'm really just limited by my own personal priorities and promises.

So now that I can look at this rejection with a clear head, and a more reasonable amount of caffeine in my bloodstream, what am I getting out of it?

Well, for one, I'm a little less cocky about it today. I went into submitting this story with full on confidence. I was utterly convinced that I was gonna get accepted and this would be my first official story published. My ego has taken a beating today and it's making me seriously reconsider my other works. Maybe I need a little more fine-tuning? Maybe I need to be more creative? Maybe I need to streamline my work? (I dunno how that last one is possible. I write screenplays that have no unnecessary scenes because I'm so to-the-point!)

I also realized that inflating my ego and being cocky is awesome. It makes the period of mourning about rejection a lot less brutal than it could be. I mean, I'm not crying. I'm not drunk. I'm sitting at my computer and I'm about to get back to work on another project while I decide what to do about this one. Being as cocky as I get means that the rejection hits hard, but I can bounce back pretty easily. It could be a lot worse. I don't deal with rejection well. You should see me when I get dumped. That's a horrible sight.

And is also a little bit off topic.

It means that I know that I can handle a rejection without spiralling into despair and madness (any more than I already am, anyway.)

It means that I have a story that could theoretically be submitted elsewhere and is fine tuned enough that I'm comfortable sending it out.

The point is that I have made peace with the rejection, understand that there are other fish int he sea, so to speak. I'm not angry, it's part of the game, and this is a game that I plan to keep playing for a long time. Writing is my craft and is going to be my full-time job. This story just wasn't meant to be the kick start I needed. And that's cool, too.

I dunno why I was rejected. I just wasn't what they were looking for this time.

But that's awesome, right? Because now I know that there are worse things than being rejected.