Okay, this is a tad bit embarrassing. I'm not sure why, but it is. For a long time, I wrote fan fiction. I LOVED fan fiction (okay, I still do). What did I write fan fiction over? Well... Twilight (I know!), The Mentalist (seriously!), and The O.C.
And where did I put these gems?
At www.fanfiction.net.
(I can't believe I'm telling you all this... )
I met a great friend there, though, Kathi-Ann who still writes awesome fan fic! I'm not embarrassed of fan fic... just some of the stories *I* wrote ;) Head-hopping... OH the head-hopping.
BUT, I believe that those stories got me where I needed to be to write novels. Were they perfect? (oh... suuuuuuuure they were ;) ), but did I learn from them? ABSOLUTELY!
I learned:
- Negative reviews are par for the course
- Did I mention head-hopping?
- They didn't call me the 'Queen of Cliffhangers' for nothing..
- Trust your Beta
- USE a Beta
- Rough drafts are your friends, as long as you don't publish them
- Not to be afraid to let others read my stories... because it's very scary the first few (hundred) times you do it.
Enjoy (BTW, this was originally published in 2009... and I edited it a bit for this blog... I had to do it ;) )
Flight Plan Kimball Cho leaned back in his cushioned seat and closed his eyes tightly. He was trying to hide the fact that he was terrified of flying, but it wasn't seeming to work. Normally before trips, he would take a pill to help him calm his nerves. Unfortunately, that morning he had grabbed the wrong bag, and as an effect was without his little helpful aides.
It was annoying. He was Kimball Cho. Serious. Calm. Not afraid of anything Kimball Cho... so he had gotten on the plane, his insides screaming for him to run like a little school girl, and had found his seat.
Now all he had to do was keep it together on the short flight between Sacramento and an airport in Northern California. There had been a murder (wasn't there always) and the CBI team had been assigned to it. They could have driven, but Minelli said they had to arrive within the day. So there he sat, eyes clinched, hands gripping the seat, praying that the flight would be over soon. Hoping that no one would...
"Cho, looks like we're seat buddies."
Oh for the love of... "Jane. I'm a little busy here."
"Yes, I can see. It's hard work being terrified." Cho heard Jane sit down in the seat next to him and settled himself in.
"I'm not terrified."
"No. No, of course not. But you can see how I would make such a grievous error. Your eyes are shut tightly, or they were before I pointed it out. Your hands are clammy. There is a bead of sweat trickling down your forehead--"
As Jane prattled on, Cho hoped that if he ignored him, he would leave him alone. He knew that would never happen, but still.. it was worth a shot. "I can help you, you know?" Jane's voice said, still invading his preferred darkness.
"No thanks."
"I can."
"No."
"You're be ing unreasonable, Cho."
"I am not. I'm being very reasonable. If I were unreasonable, I would elbow you in the stomach right now." Cho deadpanned, making Jane wonder if he was kidding. "I'm not kidding." he said as if reading the 'mindreaders' mind.
"Ok, fine. Don't accept my help. Have a fear of flying for the rest of your life." Cho felt Jane's elbow so he knew he'd crossed his arms and he heard him whistling a happy little song softly. He opened one eye to him, just to see what he was doing. Jane was sitting arms crossed, like he had suspected, eyes scanning the plane with a joyful expression on his face. "What can you possibly like about flying?"
Jane looked at him, amused. "All these people. Stuck together. They can't get out. They can't leave. They can't hide. If you are on the same flight long enough, you can figure them out. Learn their entire life story."
Cho raised a brow. "You're lying."
Jane shrugged nonchalantly. "You'll never know. You just sit back and shut your eyes like a scared kitten again. It's ok. Go ahead."
"I am not a scared kitten."
"Could have fooled me."
Cho huffed agitated and leaned his head back against the seat. He had been afraid of flying as long as he could remember. Even when he was in the army, it took lots of medication to get him onto the plane. His comrades nicknamed him Mr. T in reference to the mohawked man's character, B.A. Barakus, on the A-Team and his fear of flying.
"You don't want to be Mr. T forever do you?" Jane asked, causing a reaction from Cho. "How do you do that?" All he got in response was a chuckle. "Come on, let me help you."
He knew what that meant. What 'help' it would be. Hypnosis. He cringed at the word. He also cringed at the thought of being on the plane without any medication. Cho sighed and nodded defeated. It would be a long flight if he had to deal with Jane pestering him, and actually, he did want his help... or thought he did. He did until he saw Jane's childlike glee at the prospect of 'helping' him. Then his stomach just knotted in dread. "Fine." he rolled his eyes. "But don't make me do anything stupid."
"Like what?"
"Like you did Rigsby and have me kiss Grace."
Jane's brow raised. "Do you want to kiss Grace?"
"What? No."
"Then it won't be a problem." Jane shifted in his seat so that he was facing Cho. "Just close your eyes and relax." he said in his most soothing voice. "The others are at the front of the plane. We are back here. They won't see you. They won't know what we are doing. So just sit back, relax, take deep breaths."
Cho tried to comply. It was harder than he imagined, though, to relax in the fuselage of a crowded plane shooting through the sky.
"Now, imagine you are at a fair. It is nearing sunset. You can see the sky changing from a light blue into a mix of reds and oranges. There is a slight breeze blowing around you. There are people, but you aren't crowded. No one is in your personal space. You are walking up through the entrance. You see the Ferris wheel. To the left is the Cleopatra boat swinging up and down. Up and down. Underneath is a line of people that snakes all the way through the midway. In the midway are games. Shooting games. Throwing games. Dart games. People selling cotton candy. Walk through the midway now."
Cho imagined the place Jane described and walked through the midway. To his left he saw a woman breathing fire and to his right a man throwing baseballs at little milk jugs.
"Good." Jane's voice was hypnotic. "At the end of the midway is a tent. The tent is tall and red. There is a man outside like a ringmaster beckoning you to come in. You go inside. The tent is empty except for a few gray folding chairs and a large movie screen in front of you. Once you sit down, the screen starts to play. There is a spinning picture like an old flight control monitor. In the middle is a countdown starting with five. Then four... three... two... one. The screen changes and you see yourself. You are on roller skates and going down a long road---"
"I can't picture that, man." Cho's eyes flickered open and he sat up. "I would never be on roller skates."
"Well, would you ever be in the midway of a small town carnival either?"
Cho thought a minute. "No."
"Well---"
"Fine." he leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.
"No need." Jane said. "You're already hypnotized."
Cho's eyes opened and he looked at Jane confused. "Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am--" Jane held his hand up to stop him. "Do you feel fear? Right now, do you feel fear?"
"Right now I feel frustration." he admitted, agitated that he'd let Jane mess with him.
"Frustration, but not fear." his companion pointed out.
Cho opened his mouth to speak then shut it. Jane was right. He didn't feel fear any more. He must really be hypnotised. "Hm. How long will this last?"
"As long as you want it too. I've embedded a suggestion that every time you see a plane, it will automatically kick in. You won't need medicine any more and you won't be afraid."
"Hm.. Thanks man."
"Anytime." It was Jane's turn to lean back and close his eyes. He couldn't help himself as a wide grin crossed his lips. Sometimes people didn't need to be hypnotized.. they just needed to think they were.
ey were.