Megan Webster's Blog: Of Swords and Pens

This summer has been a very tumultuous time for me; my parents have put the house up for sale (wanting to downsize to an apartment) I'm prepping for my third year of college, which includes a trip to Spain in the spring, and meanwhile, I write and write and write.

Don't get me wrong, Mightier than the Sword is still hot on the forge in terms of the attention I've been giving it; I send out queries to agents almost daily now. But I've begun a new project as well.

Mightier than the Sword or, MTTS as I will start referring to it for my ease of typing, is quite obviously a fantasy novel. And I love fantasy novels, both the reading and writing of those admirable forms of entertainment.

However, I have decided that I needed to experiment as a writer and try a new genre. Thus, my next book is going to hailing from the historical fiction genre. I'm only about 40 pages in, but the whole thing has been plotted out and I've done countless hours of research already. I'm sure there will be countless hours more ahead of me.

The nice part about it though is that, unlike pretty much any other genre, the plot is already basically written for me. Are there some holes that history doesn't neatly cover? Yes, of course. Will I embellish certain events? Two words: creative license. But the advantage is this, I have the basic story line and I can now focus even more deeply on the characters and really developing their personalities.

Should be a fun new chapter in the life of this writer. More on that later though. I'm off to my writing desk.

After nearly one year of planning and prep work, I have finally split "Mightier than the Sword" (which I shall from here on refer to as MTTS) into two books. It just made sense. At just shy of 290,000, the novel was too much for one book. I'd been told it was intimidating.

Well, the readers finally have their way. I've split the book into two nearly equal sections. The first half of which is now available on amazon at the following link:

http://www.amazon.com/Mightier-than-S...

The split entails a new beginning (the first 3 or 4 pages were reworked for a better intro) and, when the second half comes out in a few months, there's actually a new ending, which will be the official ending as of now. There were some elements that I loved from the original beginning, but ultimately, the new one is better and does all the characters justice.

So I encourage you to check out part one and feel free to comment with thoughts and opinions, especially those of you who bought the first edition and can compare the changes.

I'm always curious to hear what you think!

Readers of "Mightier than the Sword" may wonder where the main character's name came from. Derek is a conventional enough name for a young American businessman, but where did the last name Farfield come from?

That actually has a bit of a story behind it.

I played tennis in high school and had a great coach--he was this very old man, hunched over, not all that quick with his legs, truth be told, but his racket was super fast and he could destroy any of the girls on the team without having to take more than a few steps at a time. His shots were deadly accurate, as was his advice. And those eyes . . . piercing blue, to the point where when he got in your face to rally your spirits during a losing match, you'd have to look away. They were incredibly intense.

But he was a sweet man, not intimidating. Just . . . intense.

His name was Holman. Coach Holman. And I loved having him teach me for four years. I owe him a lot, in truth.

For whatever reason, my freshman year of high school, I would come home and tell stories about the team and Coach Holman and my younger brother would forget my coach's name and ask, "Hey Meg, got any stories about Coach Farfield?"

I got irritated because after the first few times I pointed out his error, my brother continued to call him Coach Farfield.

So much so that one day at practice, I was confused during a drill and yelled out, "I have a question Coach Far-- uh Coach Holman."

The old man gave me an odd look with those blue, blue eyes of his, but didn't comment on my name slip.

After that though, it became commical every time my brother called him Coach Farfiled. And it turned out that after tennis season, about a month later, I began plotting out "Mightier than the Sword". I knew I wanted to name my main character Derek, just because I liked the name and had never used it in any previous writing.

But what to do about a last name?

And then it hit me. Farfield. Derek Farfield.

And guess what color Derek's eyes are?

Pretty much every writer out there has a writing goal, or a philosophy--something that they're trying to achieve with their writing. And usually, this goal changes over time to reflect the changes of the writer etc etc etc.

I remember one of my first writing goals: to write a book that would take adults a long time to read.

In all fairness, I was about five or six years old and at this point writing a new story every week or so, complete with illustrations. (At that age,
everyone is still good at drawing. It's around nine or ten that the true artists start to outshine the rest of us who still haven't managed to progress beyond basic stick figure-y).

But I just remember working for about a week or so on a "book", stapling all my beautiful pages together, handing it to my teacher or mom or grandpa, and watching them flip through it in about five minutes. Or less.

"Good job, Meg!"

"Very nice."

"Keep writing, dear."

. . . um, is that it? Five minutes and three or less words followed by a pat on the head?

It was beyond frustrating to my youngster self and I vowed that one day I would write a book that would take adults a long time to read!

It was a start.

So I sought out the thickest book in my house, which just so happened to be a Webster's dictionary. (No I'm not related to the folks who own the dictionary, not since about twelve plus generations ago). I began to copy it. No joke. Title page, A, and then the first page or so of entries.

When I flipped the page though and realized that I was on two of about 800 something, I quickly lost interest. My intended adult audience probably would have too, unless I miss my guess.

As it was, it would not be until I was ten years old that I wrote my first lengthy book and indeed, my first novel. It was 106 pages long and I completed it sometime mid-4th grade. But that's a story for another blog.

Since then, my writing philosophy has changed quite a bit, although if you do happen to tackle "Mightier than the Sword" be aware that it isn't for the faint of heart. At just under 300,000 words, I think I finally truly fulfilled my six-year-old self's goal.

Among other things.

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a writer. And I have a pretty good memory. Then again, I'm only twenty. Ask me again in 70 years and we'll see. Hopefully it'll remain intact.

But my mother, ever the patron of "save everything!" has these funny old notebooks. See, she used to work for a car dealership, back when I was very little. She was an accountant there and at the end of a year, if they had extra date books that they didn't need and that were going to become obsolete anyhow, my mom would bring several home for me to write in.

I was only three or four at the time, but I can still remember grabbing a blue pen and writing lines and lines of scribbles, ignoring the dates at the sides of the pages and just going to town. Most of these scribbles are just that--lines and curves--a youngsters imitation of cursive. I have no idea what they mean anymore of course but they were stories once I suppose.

Once I started preschool and was about 4, almost 5, I got more sophisticated. Mom never ceased to supply me with paper and during free time at preschool, my friends and I would often divvy up the stack of printer paper courtesy of my mom. They would often draw. I, on the other hand, wrote letters. Line after line of letters, hoping to hit upon the magical combination that would make those intriguing things called words and that I had seen in books.

I remember one day in particular. Mom had come to pick me up from school and I proudly showed her one of the sheets covered in letters. She scanned the page, nodding her approval and smiling. Suddenly she said, "Meggie, you have a word here."

My little eyes opened wide in surprise. "What word?" I craned to see the paper as she held it down low enough for me to see.

"Right here," she said, pointing at a spot near the middle of the page. "This right here is the word 'boy'. B-O-Y. Good job, sweetheart."

It's hard to say what gave me that urge to write, to search for words before I even really knew what they were. But it's always been there.

I've never forgotten the day I (albeit accidentally) wrote the word 'boy'. It was the first of many to come.

Sometimes they're still accidents. :)

It was one of those odd October days where you're uncomfortably warm in the sun, but chilly when the breeze cuts through your jacket.

But I was inside on this particular day because it was a Sunday and despite the fact that my brother was out and my parents taking a nap, I was still supporting my boys in the green and gold. That's right. I'm a die hard Packers fan.

This was the fall of 2006 and my "Pack attack" (as I like to call them) was having a rough season. That Sunday they were letting me down again and my enthusiasm was low. On top of that, I had just started high school a month ago and I was ready for a new writing project, having finished a novel several months ago at the end of 8th grade. (Now, at the time I thought that book was destined for success, but in writing, time does not make the heart grow fond--but more on that story another time).

As it was, half-time found me rummaging through the old wooden desk in my room, searching as if I thought an idea would just be sitting in one of the drawers, glowing and emitting ethereal music.

Not quite.

I did however find a small scrap of paper that, judging by the quality of the handwriting (or lack thereof), I had written during the 4th grade. All it said was, "There is a magic pen. It writes stories. Owner gets credit. Pen is discovered."

For whatever reason, five years after originally jotting down that little idea, on that crisp October Sunday, I was ready.

The second half of the game was on, but the TV was muted as I took my writing notebook into my lap and began plotting out the novel that would take me 3 years to write, 1 year to edit, and the rest of my life so far to market.

The result is "Mightier than the Sword", my first published novel, which is available on Amazon.com.

I have just joined goodreads, but I'm hoping it will be a good medium for connecting with readers and I will be continuing this blog for those who are interested not only in "Mightier than the Sword" but in one humble writer's perspective on the whole life and process of being a writer.