How to Tackle NaNoWriMo: My Advice To You (Day 5 of Countdown) #NaNoWriMo #Writing

There are now less than 24 hours left before the worldwide writing frenzy of NaNoWriMo begins! Before you begin, I would like to give you my last token of creative advice.

Create a Soundtrack for your novel.

Now, I imagine that this may have you thinking of soundtrack in the same way one thinks of a movie soundtrack. Well, that is not exactly what I am referring to here.

Movie soundtracks are designed to emotionally lead the audience in a specific emotional direction while watching the movie unfold. If a romantic scene is on the horizon, cue the sexy music. If suspense, then in comes the music that gets your pulse racing.


With the soundtrack for your novel,  collect tracks that get you into the head of your characters and reminds you of the spirit of your story as a whole.

Now there are songs that you can gather that help you to build certain scenes, similar to the way movies do, and those are helpful as well.

For me, I generally have specific songs for each of my characters. This helps me to keep every one authentic. Writing a novel in 30 days can cause a bit of character confusion if you are not careful. Soundtracks per person can help eliminate that.


Remember music is a muse. When I need to let my mind rest and my fingers stretch from a long stint of typing, I use this time to sit back, close my eyes, and listen to the songs that I’ve gathered that reminded me of my characters and my plot line.

This way, even while resting, I am still allowing my imagination to keep working on the story.

Think of it as an imaginative interlude and meditation. And trust me, it helps a lot.


If you have time, check out my blog posting on this very subject, created while I was doing a form of NaNoWriMo while writing my blog novel, Ascension Graveyard (REVISIONS AND CHAPTERS COMING SOON!)

For The Muse in the Music, posting follow this LINK.

Should music not be the muse and medicine that you need to keep in tune with your characters (pun not intended) then try this writing prompt that I created, Coffee With Character…or Tea. The exercise is all about getting to know each individual character in your story on a more personal level.

For instance knowing your character likes to wear red socks on Monday may not be something you add to the story itself but it is something that helps you, the writer, build the world of their personality. It’s an intimate nuance that sheds greater light on their behaviors.

As laughable as it may seem, a person that specific with something as trivial as sock color will be less prone to certain behaviors, while more apt in yielding to others.


TIP 1. Write anything. Let your imagination take control. (Click HERE for full article)

TIP 2. Have a reader who will look over your daily progress with an honest reader’s eye, and give you feedback. (Click HERE for full article)

TIP 3. Set a daily word count goal that you can manage. (Click HERE for full article

TIP 4. Keep a “SPICE RACK”  of ideas  and scenes in a separate word document (Click HERE for full article)

TIP 5. Create a playlist that reminds you of your characters and plot, that you can meditate on during downtime.

BONUS: Need a creative Springboard? Try this Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt to help get your NaNoWriMo Story going. Click HERE for the opening line! *REMEMBER TO OMIT THE OPENING LINE WORD COUNT FROM YOUR TOTAL WORDCOUNT*

Most importantly, just have fun. Write because you can. Write because you want to, and write because your imagination is worth the time to share!

Cheers! and Happy NaNoWriMo!

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!



Fair: Random Words Inspired by Art

Nothing about him was fair, though he was lovely to look at, and that was the cruelty of his form. His stature, his eyes, his lips, his thighs, all of it cried foul because his perfection was purely masculine, undeniably man, but still rivaled the glory of woman.

He was lovely, and he knew it. He walked with his head tilted just enough so that his eyes looked down upon all from the slope of his nose. The gesture was unnecessary because he stood nearly a full head and shoulders over all.

His way was like that of a peacock, full of pride and glory, yet captivating. His skin was like flawless ebony that glowed from the rays of the sun. He was like the perfect night, challenging the majesty of the day and he was certainly winning.


I have no image to share with you all besides the one that I have painted with words. This composition of words came from my meditation upon art, searching for my muse for the next step in my creative journey.

As I searched through images created by artists that inspire me, the mingling of different genres and styles created this man in my head. I don’t know where his story will lead but I am grateful and delighted to see how one form of creative expression has given life to another. 

Visual art has born that of written art.

If you are curious as to my creative journey, I tell you that this is a part of my Creative Faith in Action, prompted by my Free Creative Course; Sow the Seeds & Seize the Dream.

Thank you for reading, and do please share your thoughts and comments below!

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: August 7th, 2017

OPENING LINE (S): “She stood paralyzed in the face of destruction, knowing full well she should run for cover. But the way the wind seemed to snatch the air from her lungs, kept her in place, no, it drew her closer toward the danger.”


  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.


My results will be posted the week’s end.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Sugar: Microfiction Results for Monday’s Muse May 23rd 2016


Sugar: Microfiction Romance

The kiss came as a surprise, one she felt clear down to her toenails even though it was gentle as a whisper. She hadn’t seen him in months, not since her brother’s engagement party, before that she hadn’t seen him since they were kids.

Izzi, Israel Darlton, used the same gentleness that he had employed to kiss her, in pulling away. Madison drew in her lips, her gaze locked on his, the sweet taste of his sugary espresso lingered on her lips.

She preferred her coffee with cream only, but she found she didn’t mind the sweet taste at all after Izzi’s impromptu kiss.

“Sorry,” he said, dropping his eyes. A rush of red crawled up his neck and blossomed on his tanned face. Madison felt her cheeks blush too. Out of all of her brother’s childhood friends, Izzi was the only one who’d never teased her. Truly, he never even looked her direction.

At least that is what she’d believed until a few moments ago when he’d openly shared the crush he’d had on her since they were kids. Then came the kiss, the one that left her craving another. Her blush deepened.

“Don’t apologize,” Was all she could manage to say before taking another sip of her coffee. The sugarless brew made her mouth dip at the corners.

She was suddenly missing the added sweetness Izzi had shared. Feeling embolden she leaned forward and helped herself to a bit more of his sugar.


*Love is such a wonderful thing! I so enjoy writing about it. I hope you enjoyed my results for Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt May 23rd, 2016. To see the original prompt and rules, click the above link.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Remembering Why You Write: Wisdom from the Writer’s Journal

So you’ve decided that you are going to finally sit down and write a novel. Fantastic! Making the decision to actually sit down and do so tends to be one of the hardest parts of the novel writing journey.

But more difficult than anything is the art of bringing  your story from the start of its labor pains clear into a fulfilling delivery.

Let me begin by quoting a part of Scripture from the book of Isaiah:

Isaiah 37:3b “…for the children have come to the birth, and there is no strength to give birth.

To every trial and trouble, no matter how great the fruit, there tends to be one common denominator, that my friend is the root. ~ Candice Coates

The root cause of what keeps so many brilliant writers from accomplishing their goal of completing their novel is DISCOURAGEMENT.

Discouragement takes many forms and comes from many directions, some external while others internal, but all can rob us of our strength to carry on to the end.

Rather than mapping out a list of discouragements that keep you from completing your novel, I am going to encourage you to declare 3 reasons or more for why you are writing in the first place.

Whatever your 3 reasons are, I’d like for you to think of them as the 3 branches that form the anchor that keeps you steady during any discouraging storm.

Here are 3 reasons (but not the only reasons) why I write:

1. I write because it is cathartic: Writing a story, word-weaving is very relaxing. It brings me a sense of joy and pleasure.

Remembering that I write for self-relaxation removes the pressure of performance. If I have achieved my therapeutic goal by jotting down a few fictional words, then I have done well.

2. I write because I love to tell a story: Being able to give life to the characters that live in my head is an honor and privilege, one that allows me a get away from the cares of reality without even leaving the comfort of my home…although I do enjoy actual travel.

3. I write because I enjoy the challenge: I love trying new things in art, be it visual or written. Being able to put my own spin on a certain genre is something that gets my blood flowing.

To not have the answers, but to discover a new way of weaving words to present an age old topic like romance or science fiction is a reward all in itself.

So, why do YOU write? Taking the time to create your anchor is such an important part of your writing journey and process.

For me, remembering the therapeutic benefits, the love of the process, and the Anchorchallenge of trying something new, always brings me back to my keyboard.

Remember what called you to yours in the first place and let those reasons be what keeps you there as you start and finish your novels!

Happy writing.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: May 2nd 2016 #Monday’sMuse #CreativeWriting


OPENING LINE (S): “If regret had a name, it would have been Yellow Mustang.”


  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of this post to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag“Monday’s Muse.”

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.


My results will be posted by Thursday.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

The Heart of Change: Flash Fiction

The Heart of Change

“I changed because of her. What I mean to say is that she inspired me.” The words of his own accounting rang true with the sheer expression of his new appearance. He was altogether different.

“Why?” Was all they could manage to muster. Awe had struck the words from their mouth. The old ‘him’ was wonder enough, but perhaps that familiar wonder had become as a cage–gilded in beauty, but confining in its rooted way.

If a smile could be felt like the glow of summer’s morning sun, draped in fresh dew, his countenance was the embodiment of such when he answered. “She simply reminded me that there was still more to me, that beneath the comfort of my usual, there was glory still left to be seen.”

With a delighted sigh, they whispered, “I believe she was right.”

THE END…or THE BEGINNING butterfly-997911_960_720

*Dedicated to Blondewritemore for her ongoing encouragement and inspiration. Thank you!

Monday’s Muse: Writing Prompt November 30th


OPENING LINE (S): “Heat spread across my cheeks as Mama turned and gave me that look, the one that said, ‘Don’t make me turn this car around, missy/mister.’ I choked on the angry retort that tickled my tongue and drew my clenched fist beneath my thighs in an attempt not to hit my sister Harriet across the back of her head. Harriet snickered. 

RULES: Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or one of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes. Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of this  post to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “Monday’s Muse.”

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.


My results will be posted on Thursday December 3rd under the FICTION tab, then the WRITING PROMPTS AND EXERCISES, then MY WRITING PROMPT RESULTS.

The Nursery: Part 1 Short Story #BlogBattle

New Week! New Blog Battle! New Word: Bun! For more stories dancing around this word, and to get to know Rachel Ritchey, the brilliant mind who started these battles,  click HERE to follow the link.


“Well if that just don’t beat all,” Harriet propped a fist in between the space of her trim waist and bottom. “Glendella, do you see what I am seeing?”

Glendella pursed her lips and tried to stifle an irritated sigh. Shaking jet black hair from her eyes she said, “No, Harriet, I don’t. If you haven’t noticed, I am busy.” She flicked her fingers in midair, the gesture looking as if she were conducting an invisible orchestra.

Copyright by Candice Coates
 by Candice Coates

She was…in a sense, doing just that, manipulating the code through Cerebral Helix, ensuring that it remained “delightful” and full of whimsy.

Each stroke of her fingers against the projected functions of the Cerebral computer she manipulated dictated what was happening in the Nursery. One slip of her finger, one misplaced flick of her wrist and-

“Well, then you ought to get yourself unbusy, because all that flicking and fiddling ain’t doing a bit of good.”

Excuse me? I will have you know, I have been doing this for ninety seven ye-”

Harriet pointed down into the Nursery, her nose in the air, “They’s waking up, ever last one of ’em.”

* * *

Elias, held his breath as he eased within the blanket of darkness of B.U.N Headquarters.  He hardly let himself breathe. There were many “last” things that made his list of things he most certainly did not want to happen to him, at the top of that list was being caught and put in the Nursery of BUN…again.

B.U.N or Binary Unit of Narcosis was a vile existence. Nothing short of torture for anyone put in the Nursery. From the moment of a souls conception B.U.N was involved, linking them with their Cerebral Helix, and stealing away everything good; hope, good dreams, wonder and imagination. B.U.N claimed it as its own.

The stolen muse of those who were born to sleep and dream had become the very foundation of the whimsical world that now existed.

People, those seen as Seed and not Tiller, had been reduced to real live think tanks, forced to sleep until their last breath, weaved into a binary code of the Cerebral Helix where their dreams and thoughts were used to create a world beyond anyone’s imagination. A world fit only for Tillers.

Tillers were too busy to dream, far too superior in pedigree to be milked in the Nursery.

Elias shuttered and felt the familiar itch that tickled the skin of his naval, neck and spine. There were no scars to be had for the mental assault he had endured for the first seventeen years of his life.

He was one of the fortunate ones. He had gotten away.

“Very few like us,” Laila Tov had said when she had first found him. “Most people are stuck when they dream, accept everything as real. We know better.”

“How?” He asked. “We just feel it. We know how to wake up.”

And they did feel it, so much so they manipulated their dreams to run contrary to their natural muse. Doing that too often, however, upset the Binary Code, created monstrous  environments, which lead to  an immediate rejection from Cerebral Helix Coding and the Nursery.

Being rejected…well that meant evaporation. Recycling was out of the question for the “bad seed”. B.U.N could not risk any contamination.

But even that process required a compliance that those like Elias, Laila Tov, and several others just did not embody. People like them not so simply got away.

Elias smiled thinking on their first conversation, before making contact with Captain Laila Tov. “Phase one is completed, Sweet hea- Er, Captain.” It had been three years since he joined the Good Night Project, named for his now wife Laila Tov. He still found it hard to call her “Captain,” not because he didn’t think she was worth her salt as a leader, but because he found her so darn cute!

“How many awake?” Her voice held no lilt of endearment. Laila Tov was all business. This was a one shot gig. Everyone in the Nursery had to be flat-lined from the code in order for phase two to work.

“All of them.”

Silence that was followed by a relieved sigh, opened up for the next command. “Begin Phase Two. The others are prepared to initiate their Binary Uploads.The Tillers won’t have time to rewrite the code before our nightmares begin to manifest. Its going to get darker in there and even worse out here.”

Elias grimaced. “That’s generally what happens when nightmares become reality. It gets dark fast. But hey, we wrote this code so…”

“True. Let’s finish this, Soldier- er Darling.”

“Rodger that!” Elias smiled as if Laila Tov’s last word was a kiss.

* * *

“Stop that!” Harriet hissed at Glendella. “Your going to break your hands clean off at the wrist, woman it ain’t working! Somethings wrong with them!” Harriet suddenly sucked in a strangled voice and pointed a finger at Glendella. Her once raven-esque hair had grown grey and brittle, the coarse strands of it brushing against her sagging skin.

Dreams were always the place of youth, but Glendella had suddenly grown haggardly. “Or,” Harriet took another step back, plastering herself against the viewing bay of the Nursery below. “You are what’s wrong! Glendella you are absolutely ghastly!”

Glendella’s eyes widened, drool slipped from her lips along with several of her once pristine and perfect teeth. “You’re one to talk, your skirts are about to pop!” She let out a horrified mew as she tried to catch her teeth.

Harriet had not felt the strain of the fabric against her once trim waist but couldn’t help but faint to the ground as if shot as the sound of her seams popping echoed through the room.


I hope you enjoyed the beginning of this tale. It is very tongue and cheek. I must give a shout out to the “muse” who inadvertently gave me the idea for this story, Blondeusk! Do check out her blog HERE and give it a follow…you can thank me later, that is after your sides have taken a moment from splittling with laughter. She is funny, that one. 


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