So, I have to let myself squee for a moment. Today, I totally got groomed by a wallaby. YOU GUYS. CUTEST THING EVER. (Aside from maybe wallabies themselves. Or sugar gliders. I'm quickly gaining a sugar glider infatuation as well).
Anyway. Moving on.
In the past few weeks, you've seen us dream big and talk about rituals. This week, we're going to show our humble sides and share a little household disaster with you. You know when you have those moments where you're not thinking and you pour bleach in the toilet bowl right after you pee? (What? That doesn't happen to everyone?) (Note: PSA: DON'T DO THIS-- the ammonia in urine reacts with the bleach to make mustard gas. Yikes). (By the way, that goes for any products with ammonia/ bleach in them).
Or maybe you're cooking and something in the oven catches fire. You open the door to assess the situation and it goes from a tiny kitchen fire to an inferno. (This totally happened to my husband before we even met).
We've all had these moments, and while we don't usually like sharing them with other people, it's time. We're going to air our dirty proverbial (or perhaps literal) laundry. We're going to share something stupid we've all done.
Mine is... pretty spectacular. See, in October of 2010, I got married. During this "wedding" business, I had fancy tables set up where people ate, drank, chatted, etc. And on those tables were cylinder vases-- tall, clear glass cylinders. Inside were river rock pebbles and a pillar candle. The candles were lit during the evening, and at the end of the night, all of the centerpieces came back home to me.
A few months later (yeah, don't judge) found me trying to clean out said cylinder vases. A lot of them had wax melted down into the pebbles and stuck to the glass, but they still popped out relatively easily.
Except for one. One little vase, where the wax and pebbles had managed to form a lump so stubborn that nothing was working to get it out. I tried leverage, hot water, and finally-- got the brilliant idea to try and warm the vase on the stove, thus melting the wax and freeing the whole mass.
I'm sure you can see where this is going.
I turned on the burner, inching the vase carefully closer and closer to the flame.
Thank goodness I had the smart idea to stay in the room. About five minutes later, instead of melting, the whole thing just... exploded. Luckily, the glass didn't go far, but it DID burst into flames. Huge, tall flames.
In a panic, I turned off the stove... but the flames had caught the candle wax and were still going strong. I was home alone, I didn't know anything about gas-powered stoves, and I was pretty sure I was going to die.
So I called 911. The polite operator told me to pack up my animals and, pardon my acronomic language, GTFO. I did, shaking and scared the whole time.
The firefighters got here fast. I'm sure they couldn't help but laugh at the terrified housewife who thought her stove was going to explode and kill her. The fire was a measly two inches high by the time they arrived, and went out while they were there. They were nice enough to clean the wax off my stove and refused the Girl Scout cookies I offered them in thanks.
Then I had the fun task of calling my husband and explaining how I'd almost burned the house down and had to call the fire department.
He still teases me about it, almost a year later. Also, I'm not allowed to try "projects" while I'm home alone. (My idea, not his).
Also also, I am now petrified of exploding glass, and can't turn on that burner without flinching.
I think my favorite part of the whole thing is how utterly dumb it was to even try in retrospect. Yet, at the time, it seemed like a perfectly valid thing to do (obviously).
Have you ever had a "great" idea go horribly wrong?
Showing posts with label Life the universe and wallabies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life the universe and wallabies. Show all posts
Monday, February 20, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Pretending January didn't exist, and introducing: Theme Weeks!
January was a rough month for me. In the last thirty days, I have:
-Had a muscle spasm in my back. I couldn't turn my head for three days.
-Had my cat drop a laptop on my toes. It landed on its edge, by the way.
-Went to the more-than-urgent-care-but-not-quite-ER for some scary chest pains (apparently, the cartilage between your rib cage and sternum can swell and make you think you're having a heart attack. Who knew?)
-Gotten an interview for my DREAM-dream job.
-Not gotten my DREAM-dream job.
-Gotten food poisoning. Twice.
-Entered a much-beloved but long-shelved manuscript in a contest.
-Gotten a reprieve for a close animal friend at work
-Lost my close animal friend after all
-And jumped back into the query pool, feet first, eyes closed.
Having shown you this, dear friends, I hope you can understand exactly why the Archives have been a little delayed thus far this year. I don't really have an opinion on the whole "The world is ending in 2012!!" thing, but I have to say that I certainly hope it's just getting all the challenging/ difficult bits out of the way right off the bat. With that optimism in mind, I want to introduce you to two new concepts we're going to try out here at the Archives, hoping to advance our way further into the blogging world and interact with you all in a real-time, digital megaspace reality that's sure to innovate our fluxative capacity. (Okay, so that was actually my attempt at shoving as much nonsense jargon as I could into that sentence).
Our two new concepts?
The first:
NO WRITING ABOUT WRITING. (Well, except maybe a little).
Frankly, we're all sick of writing about writing. And I know I'm sick of READING about writing. I'd rather be writing! So while our blog will stay topical, and while we are still writers, we hope to include a lot more of ourselves in our blog posts, and a lot less of . . . well, you know.
And the second:
INTRODUCING: THEME WEEKS!!
You guys, I don't know if you've noticed, but it's HARD coming up with ideas for blog posts. Some weeks, we just give up out of sheer lack of motivation. Others, the well simply runneth dry. So we're going to try something new and fantastic: giving ourselves a theme to write to. Each week will have a theme, and you will get five different points of view about the topic at hand. We've already got a bunch of ideas, but if there's something you want to hear our thoughts on, leave it in the comments of this post!
Now, having waded through all of THAT business, we can move onto, er, business. This week's theme?
A wishlist.
It's been a new year twice now since the last time we really, really posted, and I'd like to celebrate and hallow the start of two new years by sending some wishes out into the universe. I'm genuinely hoping for some good things to happen this year! Here's my wishlist:
-Get another interview for my dream-dream job. Don't suck at it. Get the job.
-Have some small (or large) writing success-- find an agent, write another story that I can't stop thinking about, get past the first round in that contest.
-Continue to grow as a better friend, wife, relative, blogger, writer, critter mom, and employee.
-Get my gorgeous loveable stubborn spooky horse down to the Big Arena-- and ride her there. Safely.
-Learn. Learn more. Learn everything. Find more to learn once I've learned everything.
-Spend quality time with wallabies at least twice a month. (I'm happy to report that my profound love of wallabies can at last be satisfied on a weekly basis! And guess what: they're WAY softer and fuzzier than they look!)
-And while we're at it, I'm just going to go ahead and ask the universe to help me out a little financially.
Now, universe, I don't want any of these to be Backhanded Wishes. No killing anyone or anything or ruining lives to make it happen, ya hear?
Do you have a wishlist for 2012?
Monday, October 17, 2011
My kingdom for a horse
I would have given anything to have my horse in San Francisco.
Don't get me wrong; she probably would have been terrified. It's a very busy city, which scared me at times. I guess it would be more appropriate to say I would have given anything to have A horse in San Francisco. One used to the city.
Why?
Well, mostly, because travel by car, bike, and foot are nigh impossible in that place. Public transportation wasn't actually convenient for us. And there are SO. MANY. HILLS. But a well-trained, well-shod horse?
Easy as eating pie. (I don't like saying "easy as pie" because it implies that making pie is easy. Have you ever made a pie? It's a lot of work!)
It would have made our two days in the city a lot less stressful, that's for sure.
But the city had some great architecture; neat little unexpected pockets of "ooh, pretty!" that kept me pretty well entertained whenever we walked somewhere. At one point, after we managed to spring our car from parking jail, we drove by this massive stone cathedral that looked like it had been dropped from Europe into a neighborhood where I totally would NOT have expected to see it. It had buttresses and everything! Unfortunately, because we were driving, I did not get to take any pictures of it. Yet another situation where being on horseback would have been awesome.
And of course, a horse would have been useless in getting to Alcatraz, where one of the best parts of our vacation happened. But that's a story for another time.
Anyway, I got a lot of exciting news/ potential news while I was on my vacation, which means some great stuff will be coming up on this blog! Stay tuned, Alliterati! I'm back!
Don't get me wrong; she probably would have been terrified. It's a very busy city, which scared me at times. I guess it would be more appropriate to say I would have given anything to have A horse in San Francisco. One used to the city.
Why?
Well, mostly, because travel by car, bike, and foot are nigh impossible in that place. Public transportation wasn't actually convenient for us. And there are SO. MANY. HILLS. But a well-trained, well-shod horse?
Easy as eating pie. (I don't like saying "easy as pie" because it implies that making pie is easy. Have you ever made a pie? It's a lot of work!)
It would have made our two days in the city a lot less stressful, that's for sure.
But the city had some great architecture; neat little unexpected pockets of "ooh, pretty!" that kept me pretty well entertained whenever we walked somewhere. At one point, after we managed to spring our car from parking jail, we drove by this massive stone cathedral that looked like it had been dropped from Europe into a neighborhood where I totally would NOT have expected to see it. It had buttresses and everything! Unfortunately, because we were driving, I did not get to take any pictures of it. Yet another situation where being on horseback would have been awesome.
And of course, a horse would have been useless in getting to Alcatraz, where one of the best parts of our vacation happened. But that's a story for another time.
Anyway, I got a lot of exciting news/ potential news while I was on my vacation, which means some great stuff will be coming up on this blog! Stay tuned, Alliterati! I'm back!
Monday, October 3, 2011
Vacation Mode
I'm allllready in it.
Hubs and I are taking a little trip for our anniversary and I can't. wait. I love traveling, but we hardly ever get to go anywhere. And then when we do, we tend to go to the same places over and over again. I wish we could manage to leave the west coast for once, but alas, that's not to be anytime soon.
Still, I won't complain-- California is a beautiful state, and has a little bit of everything. This time, we're going somewhere new-- San Francisco-- as well as our old favorite haunts in Monterey and Big Sur.
I'm looking forward to clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls, sleeping right on the ocean, taking tours of kitschy places, camping under the redwoods, and driving down the gorgeous coast. It's strange how much I want to try something new, and yet, at the same time, I want to go with what I already know. Monterey and Big Sur are where my heart lives, I like to say. And it's true-- whenever the travel urge comes calling, my mind wants to visit those places first. So despite my desire to expand our travel horizons, it would have to be at the expense of a visit to my favorite place on earth.
Which of course leads to the conundrum of the fact that I might find a NEW favorite place on earth if only I'd go somewhere else.
Ah well. One step at a time! I will put on my fancy high heels just once during this trip to try something new, but then I'll slip right back into my old comfy shoes and relax somewhere that feels like a second home.
I still can't wait.
What's your travel style? Do you visit different locales or do you tend to gravitate toward the same spots? Have you ever had a clam chowder sourdough bread bowl in San Francisco, and if so, where is the best one?
Hubs and I are taking a little trip for our anniversary and I can't. wait. I love traveling, but we hardly ever get to go anywhere. And then when we do, we tend to go to the same places over and over again. I wish we could manage to leave the west coast for once, but alas, that's not to be anytime soon.
Still, I won't complain-- California is a beautiful state, and has a little bit of everything. This time, we're going somewhere new-- San Francisco-- as well as our old favorite haunts in Monterey and Big Sur.
I'm looking forward to clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls, sleeping right on the ocean, taking tours of kitschy places, camping under the redwoods, and driving down the gorgeous coast. It's strange how much I want to try something new, and yet, at the same time, I want to go with what I already know. Monterey and Big Sur are where my heart lives, I like to say. And it's true-- whenever the travel urge comes calling, my mind wants to visit those places first. So despite my desire to expand our travel horizons, it would have to be at the expense of a visit to my favorite place on earth.
Which of course leads to the conundrum of the fact that I might find a NEW favorite place on earth if only I'd go somewhere else.
Ah well. One step at a time! I will put on my fancy high heels just once during this trip to try something new, but then I'll slip right back into my old comfy shoes and relax somewhere that feels like a second home.
I still can't wait.
What's your travel style? Do you visit different locales or do you tend to gravitate toward the same spots? Have you ever had a clam chowder sourdough bread bowl in San Francisco, and if so, where is the best one?
Monday, September 26, 2011
CONTEST WINNERS! Finally! Or, why I should never make promises.
So you guys may remember me. I used to blog 'round these parts. Then we had the great idea of having a contest here at the Archives, and everything was going really well until my tooth got infected and I had to get a root canal.
In this post (my most recent one), I told you guys about the tooth. I didn't get the chance to tell you what happened next.
The serious painkillers and antibiotics I was on gave me a pretty bad complication from side effects. We started in urgent care, where they advised us to just "keep an eye on it" at home. The next day, I was pretty sure that I needed more help, but then the Power Outage That Shut Down Southern California happened, and I couldn't go to the ER because there were a lot of people out there that had very legitimate reasons for being there.
Luckily, the power came back rather quicker than anyone expected, and we were able to go to the ER in the morning. A very lucky thing indeed. I had a couple minor procedures done and they declared me fit to release. But it was an ordeal. I hadn't eaten in a week because of the pain in my mouth and not feeling good from the meds. I still didn't eat very much the week after. I lost seven pounds between my urgent care visit and the followup with my primary doc seven days later.
I was wiped out, weak, tired, and still not feeling great. I just needed to heal, but it took some time. On top of that, I STILL got to have a root canal done-- in two visits. The last visit was last Thursday, and while there's one more dental appointment in my near future, the root canal is over with and the next one can wait. And wait it will-- Hubby and I are taking a vacation for our anniversary in a couple weeks and I refuse to have yet another dental procedure before we go.
So that's where I've been, Alliterati, and while I'm no longer on Vicodin, you are more than welcome to call me names. :)
Anyway, on to my contest results! In the event that you've forgotten what the prizes even were (Dude... I totally did... no shame at all in that), here's the original contest post to refresh your memory. Remember, if you've won, please email me at wickedmoon921 at gmail within one month to claim your prize or I'll pick an alternate winner. I will try to get them out ASAP but will be honest-- probably won't be til later in October, after we get back from our trip.
Okay, without further ado...
Well, some ado.
First, the winner of the creative contest, and therefore the picker of the first prize:
Jeigh!
Jeigh's entry for the Greatest Novel That Never Was:
"Lydia had always known spoons were the safest and most practical of all utensils. How people had survived on the Notherworlds before the Razing of All Pointy Things had simmered civilization down to just her tiny village was a mystery to her. But one day, a mysterious and handsome stranger shakes the very foundations of her beliefs with the shiny fork in his hand and one question tumbling from his full, slightly chapped lips: "How do you people eat steak around here?""
Thanks for the giggles, Jeigh!
And now for the random winner.
Usually, I use Random.org for this sort of thing. But I only had a handful of entries this time, and I was feeling a little loopy this morning. So I let my cat(s) pick the winner.
Here is the story in pictures:
Contest entry names on a page
Torn into pieces
Crumpled into balls and ready for an impartial cat-judge
Said impartial cat-judge. I think he looks a little Simon Cowell-esque in this photo.
The important selection
Reaching for the Alliterati's Next Top Idol Dancer
Congratulations, Adam!!! You can pick your prize after I hear back from Jeigh unless you choose the mystery prize. Then just email me a genre and age group and I will pick something for you :)
Thanks for your patience, everyone! Happy Monday!
In this post (my most recent one), I told you guys about the tooth. I didn't get the chance to tell you what happened next.
The serious painkillers and antibiotics I was on gave me a pretty bad complication from side effects. We started in urgent care, where they advised us to just "keep an eye on it" at home. The next day, I was pretty sure that I needed more help, but then the Power Outage That Shut Down Southern California happened, and I couldn't go to the ER because there were a lot of people out there that had very legitimate reasons for being there.
Luckily, the power came back rather quicker than anyone expected, and we were able to go to the ER in the morning. A very lucky thing indeed. I had a couple minor procedures done and they declared me fit to release. But it was an ordeal. I hadn't eaten in a week because of the pain in my mouth and not feeling good from the meds. I still didn't eat very much the week after. I lost seven pounds between my urgent care visit and the followup with my primary doc seven days later.
I was wiped out, weak, tired, and still not feeling great. I just needed to heal, but it took some time. On top of that, I STILL got to have a root canal done-- in two visits. The last visit was last Thursday, and while there's one more dental appointment in my near future, the root canal is over with and the next one can wait. And wait it will-- Hubby and I are taking a vacation for our anniversary in a couple weeks and I refuse to have yet another dental procedure before we go.
So that's where I've been, Alliterati, and while I'm no longer on Vicodin, you are more than welcome to call me names. :)
Anyway, on to my contest results! In the event that you've forgotten what the prizes even were (Dude... I totally did... no shame at all in that), here's the original contest post to refresh your memory. Remember, if you've won, please email me at wickedmoon921 at gmail within one month to claim your prize or I'll pick an alternate winner. I will try to get them out ASAP but will be honest-- probably won't be til later in October, after we get back from our trip.
Okay, without further ado...
Well, some ado.
First, the winner of the creative contest, and therefore the picker of the first prize:
Jeigh!
Jeigh's entry for the Greatest Novel That Never Was:
"Lydia had always known spoons were the safest and most practical of all utensils. How people had survived on the Notherworlds before the Razing of All Pointy Things had simmered civilization down to just her tiny village was a mystery to her. But one day, a mysterious and handsome stranger shakes the very foundations of her beliefs with the shiny fork in his hand and one question tumbling from his full, slightly chapped lips: "How do you people eat steak around here?""
Thanks for the giggles, Jeigh!
And now for the random winner.
Usually, I use Random.org for this sort of thing. But I only had a handful of entries this time, and I was feeling a little loopy this morning. So I let my cat(s) pick the winner.
Here is the story in pictures:
Contest entry names on a page
Torn into pieces
Crumpled into balls and ready for an impartial cat-judge
Said impartial cat-judge. I think he looks a little Simon Cowell-esque in this photo.
The important selection
Reaching for the Alliterati's Next Top Idol Dancer
Congratulations, Adam!!! You can pick your prize after I hear back from Jeigh unless you choose the mystery prize. Then just email me a genre and age group and I will pick something for you :)
Thanks for your patience, everyone! Happy Monday!
Monday, September 5, 2011
I never thought I'd have to take last week's post title so literally...
So last week, I wrote a post called "The Wracking of Nerves," in which I talked/whined/paranoia'd my way through the dilemma of the week: still having a job after Labor Day.
The good news?
On Wednesday, at eight o'clock at night, my boss called me to tell me they were keeping me.
I get to keep my job, guys.
*pauses to let that sink in*
I AM SO FREAKING HAPPY! Thank you so much to everyone who has listened to me being neurotic and anxious and unable to focus on anything else. Thanks for all your well-wishes, and encouragement on this crazy journey. It's been amazing, and I'm so excited I get to keep on finding out what cool stuff can happen in a zoo for an educator like me!
Something else happened on Wednesday, though. My tooth, which I had gotten worked on six months ago by a dentist I will now refer to as the Butcher of San Diego, started to hurt. A LOT.
I was popping ibuprofen like it was candy, and it was just getting worse. So I went into a different, new dentist on Thursday, where they proceeded to tell me that it looked like the Butcher had screwed up my filling to the point where I needed a root canal.
Guess what Thursday was the day before?
That's right. The four-day weekend all dentists apparently take for Labor Day.
The pain got exponentially worse. When I left the dentist on Thursday, they told me to keep taking ibuprofen and I should be fine.
By Saturday afternoon, I was rocking back and forth on the couch, crying. My husband called the emergency number on our dentist's line asking if there was anything else we could do.
He didn't call back til almost nine o'clock that night, but when he did, he finally called me in a prescription for some stronger painkillers and antibiotics.
It took two hours to get them filled, but then I slept for the first time in three days without waking up in pain six times.
My husband had to drive me to work the next day, but I thought I'd make it through the day now that I had the super drugs. I was wrong. I should have stayed home. Despite working my way up to a very high dose, the pain was STILL breaking through every hour or so, sending me into paroxysms of pacing and moaning in pain-- really awesome to do in public, in uniform.
Finally, last night, I caved in and took the maximum dose I could. And I slept. And slept, and slept, and slept, until about 1:00 this afternoon, waking up only once to take a new dose.
It's finally starting to work. I just hope, when I finally go in to the dentist tomorrow, that they can actually take care of it... I'm not sure how much longer I can reasonably go about like this.
And that, my friends, is why I unfortunately STILL don't have contest results for you. But if I don't have them next week, I give you all permission to call me horrible names. In fact, you can do that now, if you like. Really. Go right ahead. I'm so hopped up on vicodin I'll probably just laugh.
Maybe.
Thanks for being patient, Alliteratus. Means the world to me. :)
The good news?
On Wednesday, at eight o'clock at night, my boss called me to tell me they were keeping me.
I get to keep my job, guys.
*pauses to let that sink in*
I AM SO FREAKING HAPPY! Thank you so much to everyone who has listened to me being neurotic and anxious and unable to focus on anything else. Thanks for all your well-wishes, and encouragement on this crazy journey. It's been amazing, and I'm so excited I get to keep on finding out what cool stuff can happen in a zoo for an educator like me!
Something else happened on Wednesday, though. My tooth, which I had gotten worked on six months ago by a dentist I will now refer to as the Butcher of San Diego, started to hurt. A LOT.
I was popping ibuprofen like it was candy, and it was just getting worse. So I went into a different, new dentist on Thursday, where they proceeded to tell me that it looked like the Butcher had screwed up my filling to the point where I needed a root canal.
Guess what Thursday was the day before?
That's right. The four-day weekend all dentists apparently take for Labor Day.
The pain got exponentially worse. When I left the dentist on Thursday, they told me to keep taking ibuprofen and I should be fine.
By Saturday afternoon, I was rocking back and forth on the couch, crying. My husband called the emergency number on our dentist's line asking if there was anything else we could do.
He didn't call back til almost nine o'clock that night, but when he did, he finally called me in a prescription for some stronger painkillers and antibiotics.
It took two hours to get them filled, but then I slept for the first time in three days without waking up in pain six times.
My husband had to drive me to work the next day, but I thought I'd make it through the day now that I had the super drugs. I was wrong. I should have stayed home. Despite working my way up to a very high dose, the pain was STILL breaking through every hour or so, sending me into paroxysms of pacing and moaning in pain-- really awesome to do in public, in uniform.
Finally, last night, I caved in and took the maximum dose I could. And I slept. And slept, and slept, and slept, until about 1:00 this afternoon, waking up only once to take a new dose.
It's finally starting to work. I just hope, when I finally go in to the dentist tomorrow, that they can actually take care of it... I'm not sure how much longer I can reasonably go about like this.
And that, my friends, is why I unfortunately STILL don't have contest results for you. But if I don't have them next week, I give you all permission to call me horrible names. In fact, you can do that now, if you like. Really. Go right ahead. I'm so hopped up on vicodin I'll probably just laugh.
Maybe.
Thanks for being patient, Alliteratus. Means the world to me. :)
Monday, August 29, 2011
The Wracking of Nerves
I'm not going to lie, friends. I'm a worrier. Like, a clinical worrier. I literally can't help it. I overthink a lot of stuff because I already have an analytical mind. Couple that with serious worrying and you have the recipe for stress (and disaster).
I've learned a few coping strategies over the years. But sometimes something just consumes me so fully that I can't think of anything else. And that's why today I'm writing about this instead of... writing. It's a gut-wrenching feeling, deep inside, that just unsettles you.
I'm very unsettled right now.
See, this time next week could be my last day at my wonderful, lovely, amazing job.
Re-reading that post helps a little, to see my attitude about it six months ago when I started this whole adventure. But still.
One week left.
Maybe.
What's driving me nuts is that I STILL don't know. They still haven't told us if they're keeping us or not. Which, to me, doesn't exactly speak well for the possibility. I mean, if there was good news, you'd think they'd want to share it as soon as they had it.
I've heard some rumors that they will keep a few of us. Rumors coming from people who are close to people who would know. But rumors bring me little comfort. (Read: zero). I won't believe it til I hear it from the people who make the decisions.
But the people who make the decisions were supposed to do a short follow-up interview with each of us before making those decisions. They were supposed to know by the end of the month.
That's Wednesday.
Most of those people aren't even at work the same time as the staff they need to tell these things to until Friday or Saturday.
At this point, I'm a little afraid that when they publish the schedule for next week on Wednesday evening, we just-- won't be on there.
Here's a funny little snapshot of my neuroses. At least, I think it's funny. I sent my boss a "happy birthday" text this afternoon, apologizing that I won't be able to make it to her party later tonight. She wrote back "Thanks. We will miss you. :("
I, of course, was fine with that text for about a moment and then the panic set in. Miss me TONIGHT? Or miss me FOREVER?
See?!
I think it's safe to say I'm going crazy. In the mean time, at least I have work (for now) and school to keep me busy. And you guys.
And that, my friends, is why I don't have a real blog post for you today.
*Longest Apology Blog Post Ever*
Monday, August 22, 2011
Back To School
Pssst... have you entered my awesome contest yet? Closes Wednesday at midnight Pacific!
Tomorrow, I go back. Back to the hallowed halls of learning... blah blah blah... I'm not taking an English class this semester, so I'll save the flowery prose for later.
In fact, I doubt there will be much creativity fostering this semester at all. I'm taking, of all things, Chemistry, Calculus, and Modern American History. For someone who rather loves words, this is a math- and fact-heavy semester. Not to mention all the dangerous chemicals I'll get to play with.
School's been an interesting environment for me-- this time around. In high school, I could have cared less about my grades. I graduated with a 2.7 GPA. All of my friends sat up front, in their shiny white robes, the top students in the class. I did not sit with them.
This time around, I am determined to do it differently. Well, mostly. It's been nine years since I graduated high school. And I still don't have a degree.
But I'm happy with my decision to go back, even though getting the classes I need has become next to impossible, and finding the time to be in school feels like it will be impossible. I'm proud to have stuck with it, and proven that I can get better grades.
But most of all, I like the sense of measurable accomplishment being in class brings with it. Sometimes, with writing, it's hard to know how you're doing. Maybe you send out twenty queries and get five requests for a project that seems, to you, utterly commercial, and forty queries and no requests for your next project, which seems artistic and beautiful. There's no one grading our manuscripts though, at least not in any color ink we can read. All we can tell our progress by is that little feeling we get inside when we just know that what we've written is the best ever.
And then, it's our job to break that "best ever" with the next thing we write. Because we always must strive to be better, do better, write better. Pushing ourselves to better our writing is something we should never lose sight of. Ever. No matter what your writing or publishing journey is, no matter what happens, remember to write better.
Remember, every time you sit down to write, you are going back to school. Push yourself. See what you can accomplish.
I'll bet you'll surprise yourself.
Tomorrow, I go back. Back to the hallowed halls of learning... blah blah blah... I'm not taking an English class this semester, so I'll save the flowery prose for later.
In fact, I doubt there will be much creativity fostering this semester at all. I'm taking, of all things, Chemistry, Calculus, and Modern American History. For someone who rather loves words, this is a math- and fact-heavy semester. Not to mention all the dangerous chemicals I'll get to play with.
School's been an interesting environment for me-- this time around. In high school, I could have cared less about my grades. I graduated with a 2.7 GPA. All of my friends sat up front, in their shiny white robes, the top students in the class. I did not sit with them.
This time around, I am determined to do it differently. Well, mostly. It's been nine years since I graduated high school. And I still don't have a degree.
But I'm happy with my decision to go back, even though getting the classes I need has become next to impossible, and finding the time to be in school feels like it will be impossible. I'm proud to have stuck with it, and proven that I can get better grades.
But most of all, I like the sense of measurable accomplishment being in class brings with it. Sometimes, with writing, it's hard to know how you're doing. Maybe you send out twenty queries and get five requests for a project that seems, to you, utterly commercial, and forty queries and no requests for your next project, which seems artistic and beautiful. There's no one grading our manuscripts though, at least not in any color ink we can read. All we can tell our progress by is that little feeling we get inside when we just know that what we've written is the best ever.
And then, it's our job to break that "best ever" with the next thing we write. Because we always must strive to be better, do better, write better. Pushing ourselves to better our writing is something we should never lose sight of. Ever. No matter what your writing or publishing journey is, no matter what happens, remember to write better.
Remember, every time you sit down to write, you are going back to school. Push yourself. See what you can accomplish.
I'll bet you'll surprise yourself.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Excited Excited Excited
There's a lot going on at Casa L.T., folks. Man.
Right now I'm all hopped up on lemonade and Ben and Jerry's. Otherwise I'd be a melty puddle of anxious. There's so much coming up this week that I can't even seem to think straight, which is awesome, because I only have twenty kids I need to herd around a 900-acre zoo for seven hours a day.
But I'm actually ridiculously excited right now, aside from even the lemonade and ice cream. Why? Because we have two new writers joining us here at the Archives, of course! We will do their official introduction soon, but right now let's just say... you will LOVE them. Also, in case you hadn't noticed, K.M. Criddle gave us a brand-spankin' new look that's pretty sharp, if I say so myself. And we've got PLANS for the future. PLANS, I tell you!
All in all, things are looking pretty up-and-up around here! Stay tuned, Alliterati, and thanks so much for sticking with us through this bumpy ride called... life. Or something like that.
Right now I'm all hopped up on lemonade and Ben and Jerry's. Otherwise I'd be a melty puddle of anxious. There's so much coming up this week that I can't even seem to think straight, which is awesome, because I only have twenty kids I need to herd around a 900-acre zoo for seven hours a day.
But I'm actually ridiculously excited right now, aside from even the lemonade and ice cream. Why? Because we have two new writers joining us here at the Archives, of course! We will do their official introduction soon, but right now let's just say... you will LOVE them. Also, in case you hadn't noticed, K.M. Criddle gave us a brand-spankin' new look that's pretty sharp, if I say so myself. And we've got PLANS for the future. PLANS, I tell you!
All in all, things are looking pretty up-and-up around here! Stay tuned, Alliterati, and thanks so much for sticking with us through this bumpy ride called... life. Or something like that.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Since no love is perfect
Hey guys! Late-but-great is my philosophy today. I'm living up to the first part pretty consistently. Not sure about the second. I guess we'll see.
So my current WIP is pretty cool, if I say so myself. Which I do. And I am SO EAGER to be done with it. But I have a little problem.
It's short.
Yeah. I've talked about this problem before, which is the opposite of most writers I know: instead of having trouble with writing too much, I have trouble with writing too LITTLE.
And I hate that. HATE. I am burning with fiery, fierce, ferocious hate about how I cannot tell a story the first time around in more than 60k words. Usually, during revisions I easily pick up the other ~20k before I feel comfortable calling it a draft, but I'm on Revision Numero Tres right now and still sitting less-than-pretty at about 57k. I just can't find the right places to make the words go.
So yeah. I LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE writing. Obviously. Or I wouldn't do it. But no love is perfect, and this is what irks me about mine.
I can't be alone. Vent me with, Alliteratus-- what irritates you about your own writing?
So my current WIP is pretty cool, if I say so myself. Which I do. And I am SO EAGER to be done with it. But I have a little problem.
It's short.
Yeah. I've talked about this problem before, which is the opposite of most writers I know: instead of having trouble with writing too much, I have trouble with writing too LITTLE.
And I hate that. HATE. I am burning with fiery, fierce, ferocious hate about how I cannot tell a story the first time around in more than 60k words. Usually, during revisions I easily pick up the other ~20k before I feel comfortable calling it a draft, but I'm on Revision Numero Tres right now and still sitting less-than-pretty at about 57k. I just can't find the right places to make the words go.
So yeah. I LOOOOOOOOOOOOVE writing. Obviously. Or I wouldn't do it. But no love is perfect, and this is what irks me about mine.
I can't be alone. Vent me with, Alliteratus-- what irritates you about your own writing?
Monday, March 28, 2011
When do you know to shelve a project?
My brain is friiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiied today, my friends. So I thought we'd do a little discussion instead of me just jabbering at you for a change. (To be fair, all of my posts are supposed to be discussions. I just like talking about myself. You'd think I'd blog more, wouldn't you?)
I'm a wimp. Five months of unemployment and SUDDENLY going to school two days a week and working the other five makes me TIRED! Ha! Like I wasn't:
a.) Working full time
b.) Planning my wedding (and making most of the stuff for it), and
c.) Going to school two nights a week
a mere six months ago. What happened to me?
Oh. I know. The couch, Twitter, and two certain cats happened to me. Ah well.
Anyway. I'm going to be very frank today and talk about something taboo: rejection. There's this project I've been working on. A "novel", some people call it. I've been querying this "novel" thing for-- well, not that long. In fact, I've really not given it a full chance, I know. But I'm tired of querying (frankly), and I've pretty much queried all the agents I would really want to work with. Something just doesn't appeal to me about querying hundreds of agents hoping one of them sticks just for the sake of having an agent when there are certain ones I know I want to work with.
There has been a lot of rejection on this novel. There is still some hope. But the feedback I've gotten so far doesn't give me much hope... for that hope. See, I wrote something that I think is good, but I know there are some aspects of it that don't fit the mold for the genre it's in. And I wrote it that way on purpose.
Usually, I'm all over fixing something I agree is wrong with my manuscript. But it would mean a whole re-working of the story, and I'm honestly not even sure where to go from where I am to fix the problems it has and still keep the story I set out to write.
Now, I'm sure some of you are going: "L.T.! If it's wrong, wipe it and fix it! They know what they're talking about!" And I totally agree. Which is why I'm thinking that if my final hope doesn't pan out, I'm going to shelve this project, even though I love it very much, and just keep moving forward with the other projects I've got in the works. That's actually the other aspect of my decision-- though I won't be able to keep the pace for now, I am a very prolific writer. I'm okay moving on to the next thing because I know there will be one. There always is.
So, after much jabbering after claiming not to jabber, that leads to me to the discussion part of today's post:
When do you decide to give up on a project?
I'm a wimp. Five months of unemployment and SUDDENLY going to school two days a week and working the other five makes me TIRED! Ha! Like I wasn't:
a.) Working full time
b.) Planning my wedding (and making most of the stuff for it), and
c.) Going to school two nights a week
a mere six months ago. What happened to me?
Oh. I know. The couch, Twitter, and two certain cats happened to me. Ah well.
Anyway. I'm going to be very frank today and talk about something taboo: rejection. There's this project I've been working on. A "novel", some people call it. I've been querying this "novel" thing for-- well, not that long. In fact, I've really not given it a full chance, I know. But I'm tired of querying (frankly), and I've pretty much queried all the agents I would really want to work with. Something just doesn't appeal to me about querying hundreds of agents hoping one of them sticks just for the sake of having an agent when there are certain ones I know I want to work with.
There has been a lot of rejection on this novel. There is still some hope. But the feedback I've gotten so far doesn't give me much hope... for that hope. See, I wrote something that I think is good, but I know there are some aspects of it that don't fit the mold for the genre it's in. And I wrote it that way on purpose.
Usually, I'm all over fixing something I agree is wrong with my manuscript. But it would mean a whole re-working of the story, and I'm honestly not even sure where to go from where I am to fix the problems it has and still keep the story I set out to write.
Now, I'm sure some of you are going: "L.T.! If it's wrong, wipe it and fix it! They know what they're talking about!" And I totally agree. Which is why I'm thinking that if my final hope doesn't pan out, I'm going to shelve this project, even though I love it very much, and just keep moving forward with the other projects I've got in the works. That's actually the other aspect of my decision-- though I won't be able to keep the pace for now, I am a very prolific writer. I'm okay moving on to the next thing because I know there will be one. There always is.
So, after much jabbering after claiming not to jabber, that leads to me to the discussion part of today's post:
When do you decide to give up on a project?
Monday, March 14, 2011
Non-Writing-Related Achievement Unlocked!
I'd like to share a little story with you today, Alliterati. A strange little story about a girl named-- uh, me. No, not Me, just, you know, me.
Anyway.
8 years ago I was looking for a job. Any job.
8 years ago, I applied for a job, educating people about animals.
8 years ago, I got the job. I loved the job. I did the job well. But I had my eye set higher, wanting to take care of animals, not just talk about them.
7 years ago, I applied for a job taking care of animals. Really cool animals.
7 years ago, I got the job.
7 years ago, I was still pretty immature. Yeah, it was a job I wanted, but I was pretty young, and was having trouble with my serious boyfriend at the time. I didn't take it seriously. I didn't understand what it meant.
6 years ago, I lost the job. Not by choice.
4 years ago, I got fed up with animals and went into real estate instead. Just as the economy tanked.
4 years ago, I found a pretty solid and amazing job at a great company with great co-workers. But slowly, I started to realize that real estate wasn't what I wanted to do forever.
1 year ago, I went to the zoo with my family and then-future-husband and realized just how much I missed being in that environment. Professional. Zoological. Working with animals. Making a difference. Having a cause.
1 year ago, I applied for a job I was perfect for, working with animals and educating people about them.
1 year ago, I got a generic rejection email (oh how familiar those are to writers!) without even being called for an interview.
1 year ago, I rallied around that rejection and maybe even went a little crazy. I applied for three different volunteer positions, two working with animals/ the public and one working with kids.
9 months ago, I started volunteering. A lot. At all three places. In between planning my wedding and still working full-time and taking two college classes. I also applied to every single job that came up that I remotely qualified for at the place that I was dying to work.
1.5 months ago, I got a call back for the first time. An interview. A position that wasn't ideal (no hands-on with animals) but that I could do. A foot-in-the-door position.
38 days ago, I interviewed for that job.
33 days ago, I got a generic rejection email telling me I didn't get it. I already knew. I blew the interview.
2 weeks ago, I applied for yet another position. And another. And four more. One of which was working with animals, and educating, but I wrote it off. Fat chance they'd call someone like me, bearing the red "F" on my employment record, for a hands-on job.
5 days ago they called. For the position that's both educational and working with animals. Can you come in for an interview on Saturday? Sure can. Had to cut a book launch party short, but it was closer to the interview location than I was already, so it worked out.
42 hours ago, I walked into the interview room to see that three of the four interviewers were the same people who had interviewed me the last time. At least they seemed happy to see me.
41 hours ago, I must have done something right. After asking me if I had any questions at the end, and answering the few that I had, the main interviewer turned to me and said, "Well, we're going to go ahead and offer you a position now."
41 hours ago I nearly started crying in front of my new co-workers and supervisors. They walked me out of the interview, pointing me toward HR, where I was to start filling out my new-hire paperwork. The lady who had offered me the job told me, "We didn't mean to surprise you, but we have a code we use when we want to hang on to someone."
26 hours from now, I go back and do some more paperwork.
33 hours after that, I have my orientation. Next week, I'll start my new job. Working with animals. And educating people about them.
I'm shocked. Still. After thinking I messed up beyond all repair so many years ago, I managed to make a pretty big move in the right direction. And I am beyond excited to do this job!
There are some negatives: it's a REALLY long drive. And it's seasonal, and part-time. But all of that is okay with me, because even if I don't get to keep this job, it makes it so much easier for me to get my foot into other doors later.
Something else came up this weekend, too, that would help ease the pain of working part time if it pans out. But I won't discuss that one now, because it's not a sure thing yet. And I'm still pretty focused on the new job thing. I keep thinking they're just messing with me, that they'll call at any moment and say, "Haha! Just kidding!" and I will hang up the phone and know that I knew it all along.
But I have decided that if they think I am worthy, then I must be worthy. I will be worthy. I am worthy.
I am worthy.
I am scared.
I am excited.
I can do this.
Anyway.
8 years ago I was looking for a job. Any job.
8 years ago, I applied for a job, educating people about animals.
8 years ago, I got the job. I loved the job. I did the job well. But I had my eye set higher, wanting to take care of animals, not just talk about them.
7 years ago, I applied for a job taking care of animals. Really cool animals.
7 years ago, I got the job.
7 years ago, I was still pretty immature. Yeah, it was a job I wanted, but I was pretty young, and was having trouble with my serious boyfriend at the time. I didn't take it seriously. I didn't understand what it meant.
6 years ago, I lost the job. Not by choice.
4 years ago, I got fed up with animals and went into real estate instead. Just as the economy tanked.
4 years ago, I found a pretty solid and amazing job at a great company with great co-workers. But slowly, I started to realize that real estate wasn't what I wanted to do forever.
1 year ago, I went to the zoo with my family and then-future-husband and realized just how much I missed being in that environment. Professional. Zoological. Working with animals. Making a difference. Having a cause.
1 year ago, I applied for a job I was perfect for, working with animals and educating people about them.
1 year ago, I got a generic rejection email (oh how familiar those are to writers!) without even being called for an interview.
1 year ago, I rallied around that rejection and maybe even went a little crazy. I applied for three different volunteer positions, two working with animals/ the public and one working with kids.
9 months ago, I started volunteering. A lot. At all three places. In between planning my wedding and still working full-time and taking two college classes. I also applied to every single job that came up that I remotely qualified for at the place that I was dying to work.
1.5 months ago, I got a call back for the first time. An interview. A position that wasn't ideal (no hands-on with animals) but that I could do. A foot-in-the-door position.
38 days ago, I interviewed for that job.
33 days ago, I got a generic rejection email telling me I didn't get it. I already knew. I blew the interview.
2 weeks ago, I applied for yet another position. And another. And four more. One of which was working with animals, and educating, but I wrote it off. Fat chance they'd call someone like me, bearing the red "F" on my employment record, for a hands-on job.
5 days ago they called. For the position that's both educational and working with animals. Can you come in for an interview on Saturday? Sure can. Had to cut a book launch party short, but it was closer to the interview location than I was already, so it worked out.
42 hours ago, I walked into the interview room to see that three of the four interviewers were the same people who had interviewed me the last time. At least they seemed happy to see me.
41 hours ago, I must have done something right. After asking me if I had any questions at the end, and answering the few that I had, the main interviewer turned to me and said, "Well, we're going to go ahead and offer you a position now."
41 hours ago I nearly started crying in front of my new co-workers and supervisors. They walked me out of the interview, pointing me toward HR, where I was to start filling out my new-hire paperwork. The lady who had offered me the job told me, "We didn't mean to surprise you, but we have a code we use when we want to hang on to someone."
26 hours from now, I go back and do some more paperwork.
33 hours after that, I have my orientation. Next week, I'll start my new job. Working with animals. And educating people about them.
I'm shocked. Still. After thinking I messed up beyond all repair so many years ago, I managed to make a pretty big move in the right direction. And I am beyond excited to do this job!
There are some negatives: it's a REALLY long drive. And it's seasonal, and part-time. But all of that is okay with me, because even if I don't get to keep this job, it makes it so much easier for me to get my foot into other doors later.
Something else came up this weekend, too, that would help ease the pain of working part time if it pans out. But I won't discuss that one now, because it's not a sure thing yet. And I'm still pretty focused on the new job thing. I keep thinking they're just messing with me, that they'll call at any moment and say, "Haha! Just kidding!" and I will hang up the phone and know that I knew it all along.
But I have decided that if they think I am worthy, then I must be worthy. I will be worthy. I am worthy.
I am worthy.
I am scared.
I am excited.
I can do this.
Monday, February 14, 2011
From the Heart: Answers!
Hello my Alliterati friends! Happy Valentine's Day!
Last week, I was lazy and asked you to ask me questions instead of writing a real blog post. Today, instead of writing a real blog post, I will answer your questions! Woo! Look at me!
Nicole MacDonald asks:
How many pets do you have?
Currently, I have the two little troublemakers (cats), a bunny, and a horse. So four at the moment. You'll notice I keep qualifying that statement. That's because I am always trying to convince the husband to let me get a dog or a chinchilla or another kitten or a bird . . . luckily, he has the good sense to tell me no. :)
Do you include them in your writing and if so is it as themselves or do they inspire characters?
Great question! I do include them in my books-- when there's an occasion to do so without forcing it. Typically, they inspire characters (who happen to be exactly like them) only because a character is easier to manipulate than my image of my actual pet, but there is one exception: in my second manuscript, I included my first horse, Gypsy, because I had recently lost her. Putting her in the novel, even though she really only makes a cameo, was important to me as a way of memorializing her.
In my first novel, a fantasy, I included my bunny-- but as inspiration for a bunny in the book. And I've modeled other animals after mine (a lion after one of my cats, for example), even though they're not precisely the same!
I don't put much from my real life into my books, but I do absolutely include my pets!
Adam Heine asks:
A few months in, how's married life?
Married life is AWESOME! It's also . . . pretty much the same. We (*gasp*) lived together already, in the house that we own, so there wasn't the difficult adjusting period that a lot of couples can go through (except for me losing my job, that took some adjusting!) But so far it's pretty much the same amazing-ness that just makes me glad he chose me. :)
Okay, I can't resist sharing. Here's what he made me for Valentine's Day!
I've been complaining about my reading light for months. So he BUILT me one. It's shaped like a birdhouse, but the walls and roof are frosted acrylic so the light will come through. And then, when you're done reading for the night, you can do this:
(Wave "hi" to Tim the Polar Bear, Jr.)
We usually celebrate Valentine's Day on the 13th for several reasons, so I got my new lamp last night-- and I teared up when I saw it! I can't believe he took the time to make it by hand for me.
He also gave me this:
A pretty green topaz necklace, because I "need more green." (Green is his favorite color).
So in a nutshell, married life is freaking awesome, even if it didn't change much :)
Favorite place in the world?
Oh man. This is a tough one. My answer *might* change if/ when I ever actually leave the North American continent (yes, it's true-- I have never been outside the U.S. proper, except barely into Canada and Mexico). Anyway, right now my answer is Monterey/ Big Sur, California. I would move there in a heartbeat. You know how there are some things that just instantaneously relax you to think about? For me, it's ocean waves lapping right up to a rambling Victorian, and tent camping nestled under the stretching arms of the redwoods.
Just so you can fully understand if you have never been there, here is the view from our hotel room in Monterey:
Man. Now I want to go back there!
And finally, should I put soy sauce or chili sauce on my eggs?
Bah. If I ate eggs I could give you a real answer! But breakfast is, alas, something that Other People Do for me-- never been able to stomach food before noon. However, based on my personal culinary tastes in other areas, I will say: chili sauce! Always chili sauce!
Last week, I was lazy and asked you to ask me questions instead of writing a real blog post. Today, instead of writing a real blog post, I will answer your questions! Woo! Look at me!
Nicole MacDonald asks:
How many pets do you have?
Currently, I have the two little troublemakers (cats), a bunny, and a horse. So four at the moment. You'll notice I keep qualifying that statement. That's because I am always trying to convince the husband to let me get a dog or a chinchilla or another kitten or a bird . . . luckily, he has the good sense to tell me no. :)
Do you include them in your writing and if so is it as themselves or do they inspire characters?
Great question! I do include them in my books-- when there's an occasion to do so without forcing it. Typically, they inspire characters (who happen to be exactly like them) only because a character is easier to manipulate than my image of my actual pet, but there is one exception: in my second manuscript, I included my first horse, Gypsy, because I had recently lost her. Putting her in the novel, even though she really only makes a cameo, was important to me as a way of memorializing her.
In my first novel, a fantasy, I included my bunny-- but as inspiration for a bunny in the book. And I've modeled other animals after mine (a lion after one of my cats, for example), even though they're not precisely the same!
I don't put much from my real life into my books, but I do absolutely include my pets!
Adam Heine asks:
A few months in, how's married life?
Married life is AWESOME! It's also . . . pretty much the same. We (*gasp*) lived together already, in the house that we own, so there wasn't the difficult adjusting period that a lot of couples can go through (except for me losing my job, that took some adjusting!) But so far it's pretty much the same amazing-ness that just makes me glad he chose me. :)
Okay, I can't resist sharing. Here's what he made me for Valentine's Day!
I've been complaining about my reading light for months. So he BUILT me one. It's shaped like a birdhouse, but the walls and roof are frosted acrylic so the light will come through. And then, when you're done reading for the night, you can do this:
(Wave "hi" to Tim the Polar Bear, Jr.)
We usually celebrate Valentine's Day on the 13th for several reasons, so I got my new lamp last night-- and I teared up when I saw it! I can't believe he took the time to make it by hand for me.
He also gave me this:
A pretty green topaz necklace, because I "need more green." (Green is his favorite color).
So in a nutshell, married life is freaking awesome, even if it didn't change much :)
Favorite place in the world?
Oh man. This is a tough one. My answer *might* change if/ when I ever actually leave the North American continent (yes, it's true-- I have never been outside the U.S. proper, except barely into Canada and Mexico). Anyway, right now my answer is Monterey/ Big Sur, California. I would move there in a heartbeat. You know how there are some things that just instantaneously relax you to think about? For me, it's ocean waves lapping right up to a rambling Victorian, and tent camping nestled under the stretching arms of the redwoods.
Just so you can fully understand if you have never been there, here is the view from our hotel room in Monterey:
Man. Now I want to go back there!
And finally, should I put soy sauce or chili sauce on my eggs?
Bah. If I ate eggs I could give you a real answer! But breakfast is, alas, something that Other People Do for me-- never been able to stomach food before noon. However, based on my personal culinary tastes in other areas, I will say: chili sauce! Always chili sauce!
Monday, February 7, 2011
It's Monday! And that means... I'm really good at stating the obvious?
I hope everyone had an awesome weekend. I'm sure we're all sick to death of hearing about a certain big game that was on yesterday so I won't even mention it-- except to say that I didn't even watch it, so I wouldn't mention it even if it wasn't already SO yesterday.
Except I just did. I'm not very good at this.
Anyway, moving on to business today-- that of having no business. This weekend was kind of crazy, with my bunny falling ill and requiring intense care (I know, how many times have you ever seen THAT excuse before?), and I must admit my creative blogging well has been sucked dry for this week. So . . . I don't pretend I'm interesting enough for any of you to have questions you've just been DYING to ask me, but I will try this age-old blogging tactic anyway:
Does anyone have any questions for me? Ask away if so and I'll answer them next week!
If not, I'll have something more interesting to say next time it's Monday, and it won't involve not mentioning sports games. Promise.
Except I just did. I'm not very good at this.
Anyway, moving on to business today-- that of having no business. This weekend was kind of crazy, with my bunny falling ill and requiring intense care (I know, how many times have you ever seen THAT excuse before?), and I must admit my creative blogging well has been sucked dry for this week. So . . . I don't pretend I'm interesting enough for any of you to have questions you've just been DYING to ask me, but I will try this age-old blogging tactic anyway:
Does anyone have any questions for me? Ask away if so and I'll answer them next week!
If not, I'll have something more interesting to say next time it's Monday, and it won't involve not mentioning sports games. Promise.
Monday, January 17, 2011
I'm late! I'm late! For a very important . . . uh, blog post
Sorry about the lateness of this post, my peeps. Today has been a hectic day. Hubby's off of work, and we (read: I) got the brilliant idea this weekend to try and make the house look a little less freshly-moved into (I personally feel it's about time, nearly two years later). So off to IKEA, and then seventy-bajillion other furniture stores we went. And then we went back to IKEA. Because everyone knows no matter how much you hate IKEA, once you find something there that "will do," everything else won't. (That's probably actually just me).
The good news is, we will finally have a dining room table and chairs that match the rest of our dining room/ house. And a bookshelf that matches the rest of our furniture (which we need, given my recent ALA takings). And next are the bathrooms-- I am RIDICULOUSLY excited about the bathrooms, folks.
Just in case you're looking at the blog header in confusion, you're in the right spot. This is a collaborative writing blog, not a home improvement blog. But every now and then I like to take a time out from writing gab and talk about the other things I've got going on, because-- and here comes today's message, are you watching? Oh, whoops, there it went-- WRITING IS NOT MY WHOLE LIFE.
Gasp. I know. You are probably screaming and running around and tearing out your hair now, aren't you? (Even if you aren't, don't tell ME that. It's much funnier for me to imagine it this way).
No, there are definitely other things going on. Things like, home improvement. And two evil, miniature big cats that have devious aptitudes for trouble.
I've noticed that whenever I've got a lot of hope in something, the only way to stay sane and prepare for the worst (while I'm hoping for the best) is to distract myself. This is probably why I have so many hobbies. Which is why it's okay to admit that, despite the fact that writing blogs often make it seem that way, writing isn't my whole life. Because, as much as I love it, and consider it one of the things I am most passionate about, I do have other things going on. And those things keep me sane when writing has a lot of weight to it, just like writing keeps me sane when those others things are getting me down.
So there you have it. A totally insane, rambling, LATE post that hopefully makes some sense, because gosh-darnit, writing isn't all that's out there. We might make it seem that way sometimes, but that's mostly because we don't want people thinking they've got the wrong blog. You've got the right one. But some Mondays, at least, it won't be about writing at all.
What else do you have besides writing?
The good news is, we will finally have a dining room table and chairs that match the rest of our dining room/ house. And a bookshelf that matches the rest of our furniture (which we need, given my recent ALA takings). And next are the bathrooms-- I am RIDICULOUSLY excited about the bathrooms, folks.
Just in case you're looking at the blog header in confusion, you're in the right spot. This is a collaborative writing blog, not a home improvement blog. But every now and then I like to take a time out from writing gab and talk about the other things I've got going on, because-- and here comes today's message, are you watching? Oh, whoops, there it went-- WRITING IS NOT MY WHOLE LIFE.
Gasp. I know. You are probably screaming and running around and tearing out your hair now, aren't you? (Even if you aren't, don't tell ME that. It's much funnier for me to imagine it this way).
No, there are definitely other things going on. Things like, home improvement. And two evil, miniature big cats that have devious aptitudes for trouble.
I've noticed that whenever I've got a lot of hope in something, the only way to stay sane and prepare for the worst (while I'm hoping for the best) is to distract myself. This is probably why I have so many hobbies. Which is why it's okay to admit that, despite the fact that writing blogs often make it seem that way, writing isn't my whole life. Because, as much as I love it, and consider it one of the things I am most passionate about, I do have other things going on. And those things keep me sane when writing has a lot of weight to it, just like writing keeps me sane when those others things are getting me down.
So there you have it. A totally insane, rambling, LATE post that hopefully makes some sense, because gosh-darnit, writing isn't all that's out there. We might make it seem that way sometimes, but that's mostly because we don't want people thinking they've got the wrong blog. You've got the right one. But some Mondays, at least, it won't be about writing at all.
What else do you have besides writing?
Monday, November 1, 2010
HELLO PARTY PEOPLE!!!
(Cross-posted from Quest: Published. I know, I know, I'm such a cheater).
So, while I was gone, several things occurred. One of them was rather large and amazing, one of them was rather large and sucky, the rest ranged from spectacular to average, but all in all, I'd have to say that it was a pretty good 2-3 months. Rather than trying to remember all these events, I've decided instead to answer some lingering questions you're all sure to have:
Q: Did you get married?
A: Why, yes I did! Here we are, looking hot and loving and adorable and all that:
My wedding was a dream come true. I couldn't be happier with my new husband, and boy is it nice to have time for other things! (Like blogging, and writing, and breathing. Always nice, that).
Speaking of having more free time:
Q: Are you still working?
A: Um . . . no, actually. Yeah. That's the pretty major thing that's happened that sucks. It's fairly recent, and through no fault of my own, and hopefully we'll be okay. But still. Suckage.
Still, I am optimistic. And trying not to view this "Oh hey! I'll finally have real writing time!" Because making money so we can eat, and our furry babies can eat, is more important than all-the-time-I-could-ever-want-to-write. Right?
Moving on.
Q: Did you find an agent?
A: No, no I did not. For a very simple reason: you have to query agents in order to risk that they might sign you, and I haven't been querying. Rest assured, despite my assertions above, SOME of my new-found free time will be spent querying. Just not, you know, most of it.
Q: Did you get to meet any fabulous authors?
A: I did! While I didn't get any pictures, I did meet Kiersten White and Cindy Pon (both at Kiersten's signing, interestingly enough). Then, last week, I got to play native guide to Gary Corby, who is just as cool and full of fascinating historical info in person as he is online. WH and I had a fabulous time at his signing, where we also met P.L. Gaus, who writes Amish murder mysteries. We then spent Saturday showing Gary around our famous San Diego zoo (during which Gary, Scott and I had a long discussion about the possibility of owning a wallaby, and the ways someone could die by various animals) and topped off the evening by getting the only food I can think of that screams "San Diego"-- fish tacos, from a bar on the beach, by the pier. I hope Gary had as much fun with us as we did with him. Here we are at his signing:
We all look much happier in the picture on his blog. We were having a good time, I swear.
And while I neglected to take any pictures of Gary at the zoo (especially near the World's Largest Rodent [a capybara]), I did take a picture of the souvenir Gary brought me from Australia:
Thanks, Gary. I'm still working up the nerve to try it.
Aaaaaand I got to buy and then therefore read his book! Here I am, reading it:
Look for an author interview with Gary here at the Archives soon!
Q: Did you get any writing done?
A: Well, yes, actually. Not nearly as much as I'd have liked, but I did. I have a 43K "first draft" of my mystery done and, thanks to Gary, am moving ahead full force to start really querying my second novel, V. And this time I mean it. Sorry, where did that come from?
Q: So, uh, did anything else happen while you were gone?
A: Aside from all that I mentioned above, not really. All in all, I'm glad I decided to take the break because I honestly would have been too busy and too stressed out to be a good blogger. But on the same hand, I am SO glad to be back amongst my writer friends and catch up on everyone's lives.
So now here's a question for you:
How have you been?
So, while I was gone, several things occurred. One of them was rather large and amazing, one of them was rather large and sucky, the rest ranged from spectacular to average, but all in all, I'd have to say that it was a pretty good 2-3 months. Rather than trying to remember all these events, I've decided instead to answer some lingering questions you're all sure to have:
Q: Did you get married?
A: Why, yes I did! Here we are, looking hot and loving and adorable and all that:
(Photo by the amazing Kate Williams of Chasing Daylight Photography)
My wedding was a dream come true. I couldn't be happier with my new husband, and boy is it nice to have time for other things! (Like blogging, and writing, and breathing. Always nice, that).
Speaking of having more free time:
Q: Are you still working?
A: Um . . . no, actually. Yeah. That's the pretty major thing that's happened that sucks. It's fairly recent, and through no fault of my own, and hopefully we'll be okay. But still. Suckage.
Still, I am optimistic. And trying not to view this "Oh hey! I'll finally have real writing time!" Because making money so we can eat, and our furry babies can eat, is more important than all-the-time-I-could-ever-want-to-write. Right?
Moving on.
Q: Did you find an agent?
A: No, no I did not. For a very simple reason: you have to query agents in order to risk that they might sign you, and I haven't been querying. Rest assured, despite my assertions above, SOME of my new-found free time will be spent querying. Just not, you know, most of it.
Q: Did you get to meet any fabulous authors?
A: I did! While I didn't get any pictures, I did meet Kiersten White and Cindy Pon (both at Kiersten's signing, interestingly enough). Then, last week, I got to play native guide to Gary Corby, who is just as cool and full of fascinating historical info in person as he is online. WH and I had a fabulous time at his signing, where we also met P.L. Gaus, who writes Amish murder mysteries. We then spent Saturday showing Gary around our famous San Diego zoo (during which Gary, Scott and I had a long discussion about the possibility of owning a wallaby, and the ways someone could die by various animals) and topped off the evening by getting the only food I can think of that screams "San Diego"-- fish tacos, from a bar on the beach, by the pier. I hope Gary had as much fun with us as we did with him. Here we are at his signing:
We all look much happier in the picture on his blog. We were having a good time, I swear.
And while I neglected to take any pictures of Gary at the zoo (especially near the World's Largest Rodent [a capybara]), I did take a picture of the souvenir Gary brought me from Australia:
Thanks, Gary. I'm still working up the nerve to try it.
Aaaaaand I got to buy and then therefore read his book! Here I am, reading it:
Look for an author interview with Gary here at the Archives soon!
Q: Did you get any writing done?
A: Well, yes, actually. Not nearly as much as I'd have liked, but I did. I have a 43K "first draft" of my mystery done and, thanks to Gary, am moving ahead full force to start really querying my second novel, V. And this time I mean it. Sorry, where did that come from?
Q: So, uh, did anything else happen while you were gone?
A: Aside from all that I mentioned above, not really. All in all, I'm glad I decided to take the break because I honestly would have been too busy and too stressed out to be a good blogger. But on the same hand, I am SO glad to be back amongst my writer friends and catch up on everyone's lives.
So now here's a question for you:
How have you been?
Monday, August 9, 2010
Be still my heart... and brain, and hands
I have a lot of passions.
Like, a LOT.
What can I say? I'm easily entertained? I like lots of stuff?
I can't really explain it. I just know it's there. I have a brain that apparently requires a high amount of stimulus, as I often do 2-3 things at once.
Here is just a basic list of my hobbies, and understand that to make it on the list, I've done them in the last month or so:
-Writing of course, though this one barely qualifies as I haven't written on any of my current projects in a while.
-Reading—lately, I've been into quirky biographies (well, biographies about quirky people), which is a total departure for me. Huh.
-Music—playing piano, and singing (not that ANYONE should ever have to hear me sing). I also have a violin and guitar and am self-taught on all four, but I haven't played the violin and guitar in a long, long time.
-My animals, of course. Especially my horse (training, riding, etc.).
-WEDDING. This is a biggie. I'm doing most everything myself (making my own invites, doing my own flowers, making all the other paper goods, making my own veil, sewing the groom's/men's vests, oh the list goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on). And as a result this has been the majority of my last few months. Not that I'm alone; weddings are always a big project!
-Volunteering—this is a recent re-development, as I've volunteered extensively before, but the opportunities I have now are both new and time-consuming.
This is nowhere near everything. (And notice that "growing my own pumpkins" is not on here—after a seemingly easy start, I got 7-8 on the ground. And now my vines have started dying. So bye-bye pumpkins, as my efforts to save them have not worked. I suspect they have a fungus, which is untreatable).
My point, though, is that my mind is a trap of knowledge and I crave a lot of different inputs depending on the day. I also have a lot of creative outlets, only one of which is writing.
This may make it seem like I have no focus, but it's quite the opposite, in fact. When I pick something up as a "passion," that is what it is, no questions asked. It will stick with me for the rest of my life, even if I forget to do it for a few years here and there. So writing, fear not—I will be back to you very soon!
So yes, I have passion, but I also have a lot of it, and a lot of outlets for it. And yes, overall they might each get less time than if I only had one, but what else would I do in my downtime? (Grin).
I can't be the only one—besides writing, what are some things you love to do and always will?
Like, a LOT.
What can I say? I'm easily entertained? I like lots of stuff?
I can't really explain it. I just know it's there. I have a brain that apparently requires a high amount of stimulus, as I often do 2-3 things at once.
Here is just a basic list of my hobbies, and understand that to make it on the list, I've done them in the last month or so:
-Writing of course, though this one barely qualifies as I haven't written on any of my current projects in a while.
-Reading—lately, I've been into quirky biographies (well, biographies about quirky people), which is a total departure for me. Huh.
-Music—playing piano, and singing (not that ANYONE should ever have to hear me sing). I also have a violin and guitar and am self-taught on all four, but I haven't played the violin and guitar in a long, long time.
-My animals, of course. Especially my horse (training, riding, etc.).
-WEDDING. This is a biggie. I'm doing most everything myself (making my own invites, doing my own flowers, making all the other paper goods, making my own veil, sewing the groom's/men's vests, oh the list goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on). And as a result this has been the majority of my last few months. Not that I'm alone; weddings are always a big project!
-Volunteering—this is a recent re-development, as I've volunteered extensively before, but the opportunities I have now are both new and time-consuming.
This is nowhere near everything. (And notice that "growing my own pumpkins" is not on here—after a seemingly easy start, I got 7-8 on the ground. And now my vines have started dying. So bye-bye pumpkins, as my efforts to save them have not worked. I suspect they have a fungus, which is untreatable).
My point, though, is that my mind is a trap of knowledge and I crave a lot of different inputs depending on the day. I also have a lot of creative outlets, only one of which is writing.
This may make it seem like I have no focus, but it's quite the opposite, in fact. When I pick something up as a "passion," that is what it is, no questions asked. It will stick with me for the rest of my life, even if I forget to do it for a few years here and there. So writing, fear not—I will be back to you very soon!
So yes, I have passion, but I also have a lot of it, and a lot of outlets for it. And yes, overall they might each get less time than if I only had one, but what else would I do in my downtime? (Grin).
I can't be the only one—besides writing, what are some things you love to do and always will?
Monday, August 2, 2010
Get back on that horse
There's this old cowboy adage (though to be fair it could be much older, perhaps as old as humans have been riding horses for?) that if you fall off of a horse, the best thing to do is immediately get back on.
And it's really not optional. In order to continue moving forward, you must get back on the horse.
With an actual horse, there are really two-fold reasons to get back on. The first, and typically more admitted reason, is that (generally speaking), when a rider comes off a horse, it's because the horse did something to unseat the rider, i.e., bucking, rearing, spooking, taking off, etc.
This doesn't mean the rider didn't do something to cause the horse to have this reaction. I've seen that a million times, especially with inexperienced riders. But for a seasoned rider like myself, it takes quite the surprise to have a horse unseat you. (And it has happened three times for me: the first, when I was pretty inexperienced myself, was also the worst fall, resulting in an ER visit later that night when it became apparent I actually did hurt myself. The second and third were both off of my own horses, and much milder).
So if the horse is reacting to something out of stubbornness, or a refusal to work for the rider, the rider must get back on--immediately-- to show the horse that despite their attempt to rid themselves of their burden, they will work through the issue with the rider on their back, and they will do so safely. Horses are big animals, and safety is always a top priority with a responsible rider. That same rider will make safety the horse's priority, too.
If it's physically possible to get back on the horse once you're dumped, you must. If you give up and put the horse away, the horse learns that by dumping its rider, it can get out of working any time it wants, and bam-- suddenly you have a horse that will do its level best to dump any rider it can.
Now, the second reason to get back on is to conquer fear (both yours and the horse's, if necessary). If YOU get up and walk away and don't come back for a couple hours, or a day, or a week, by the time you do come back, fear will have had time to fester. And you will be afraid for much longer than if you had gotten back on right away and proven to yourself that you can do it. The longer you're away, the greater your fear. Plus, if the horse reacted out of fear to unseat you, the horse needs to re-do it again quickly to conquer their own fear, as well.
So why am I telling you all of this? Congratulations if you've read this far, by the way-- years as a riding lesson instructor and my general passion for educating people about animals have made me rather less than concise when it comes to this sort of thing.
I'm telling you this because I know that every now and then during this game, I can use a little encouragement. So I'm going to (hopefully) try and encourage anyone out there who needs it right now, whether it be to keep writing, or to edit a draft, or to send another query letter. Do it. Think of your brain as the horse. If you don't keep at it, your brain learns, "Oh! Hey! By not thinking about writing, I can DO OTHER THINGS! This is great!"
And if you're afraid of rejection, the same holds true, as with the horse, too-- the longer you're away from it, the bigger your fear of it grows.
So go! Shoo! Get back on that horse!
And it's really not optional. In order to continue moving forward, you must get back on the horse.
With an actual horse, there are really two-fold reasons to get back on. The first, and typically more admitted reason, is that (generally speaking), when a rider comes off a horse, it's because the horse did something to unseat the rider, i.e., bucking, rearing, spooking, taking off, etc.
This doesn't mean the rider didn't do something to cause the horse to have this reaction. I've seen that a million times, especially with inexperienced riders. But for a seasoned rider like myself, it takes quite the surprise to have a horse unseat you. (And it has happened three times for me: the first, when I was pretty inexperienced myself, was also the worst fall, resulting in an ER visit later that night when it became apparent I actually did hurt myself. The second and third were both off of my own horses, and much milder).
So if the horse is reacting to something out of stubbornness, or a refusal to work for the rider, the rider must get back on--immediately-- to show the horse that despite their attempt to rid themselves of their burden, they will work through the issue with the rider on their back, and they will do so safely. Horses are big animals, and safety is always a top priority with a responsible rider. That same rider will make safety the horse's priority, too.
If it's physically possible to get back on the horse once you're dumped, you must. If you give up and put the horse away, the horse learns that by dumping its rider, it can get out of working any time it wants, and bam-- suddenly you have a horse that will do its level best to dump any rider it can.
Now, the second reason to get back on is to conquer fear (both yours and the horse's, if necessary). If YOU get up and walk away and don't come back for a couple hours, or a day, or a week, by the time you do come back, fear will have had time to fester. And you will be afraid for much longer than if you had gotten back on right away and proven to yourself that you can do it. The longer you're away, the greater your fear. Plus, if the horse reacted out of fear to unseat you, the horse needs to re-do it again quickly to conquer their own fear, as well.
So why am I telling you all of this? Congratulations if you've read this far, by the way-- years as a riding lesson instructor and my general passion for educating people about animals have made me rather less than concise when it comes to this sort of thing.
I'm telling you this because I know that every now and then during this game, I can use a little encouragement. So I'm going to (hopefully) try and encourage anyone out there who needs it right now, whether it be to keep writing, or to edit a draft, or to send another query letter. Do it. Think of your brain as the horse. If you don't keep at it, your brain learns, "Oh! Hey! By not thinking about writing, I can DO OTHER THINGS! This is great!"
And if you're afraid of rejection, the same holds true, as with the horse, too-- the longer you're away from it, the bigger your fear of it grows.
So go! Shoo! Get back on that horse!
Monday, July 26, 2010
A Treatise On Clutter
It's Monday. Which means I'm supposed to write something in the blank space on this blog.
I'm working on that.
Which brings to mind something else:
I'm working on a lot right now. I'm itching to have something accomplished, for once, because I have a lot of chainsaws in the air and I can't seem to set any of them down. After the wedding, I keep telling myself. After the wedding, I'll have more time.
Which is inherently true-- when the party for 100 of our closest guests is over and done with and the fiance and I are completely, wholeheartedly married to one another, I will have more time based on sheer numbers. I won't be planning the party anymore, for one.
But I hope it's true in practice, because I am really good about filling my free time.
I'm good at filling free space, too.
I've been noticing a lot of clutter in my life lately. Which is interesting because it's not like it magically appeared overnight; rather, it's been slowly building to the point that I've noticed it. There's a bookshelf at home that is supposed to house decorations that are currently invisible because they're covered in old mail and receipts and wedding papers and real estate sheets and notebooks and note-covered copies of my MS's. My desk at work has assignment calendars with the heading of "April 2010" peeking out under old reports and data entry forms that need to be recycled.
Our car STILL has the tent in the trunk from our trip two weeks ago.
The thing is, I am more than capable of keeping this kind of thing under control. And it irritates me that it's gotten so far out of hand. But the clutter isn't just in my physical space, it's in my mind, too. It's keeping me from writing out the ending to my mystery. It's keeping me from safely setting down any of the other forty chainsaws I have. It's keeping me from blogging regularly (on my personal blog), commenting regularly on others, and please don't even look at the last time I tweeted, for goodness sake.
I'm not saying I'm free from the blame here. I'm not. This is ALL me. But I'm wondering if the physical clutter is a sign that something's stuffed full upstairs, too. Maybe if I clean out the mess I can touch, I can clean out the mess that I can't find.
How do you deal with clutter?
I'm working on that.
Which brings to mind something else:
I'm working on a lot right now. I'm itching to have something accomplished, for once, because I have a lot of chainsaws in the air and I can't seem to set any of them down. After the wedding, I keep telling myself. After the wedding, I'll have more time.
Which is inherently true-- when the party for 100 of our closest guests is over and done with and the fiance and I are completely, wholeheartedly married to one another, I will have more time based on sheer numbers. I won't be planning the party anymore, for one.
But I hope it's true in practice, because I am really good about filling my free time.
I'm good at filling free space, too.
I've been noticing a lot of clutter in my life lately. Which is interesting because it's not like it magically appeared overnight; rather, it's been slowly building to the point that I've noticed it. There's a bookshelf at home that is supposed to house decorations that are currently invisible because they're covered in old mail and receipts and wedding papers and real estate sheets and notebooks and note-covered copies of my MS's. My desk at work has assignment calendars with the heading of "April 2010" peeking out under old reports and data entry forms that need to be recycled.
Our car STILL has the tent in the trunk from our trip two weeks ago.
The thing is, I am more than capable of keeping this kind of thing under control. And it irritates me that it's gotten so far out of hand. But the clutter isn't just in my physical space, it's in my mind, too. It's keeping me from writing out the ending to my mystery. It's keeping me from safely setting down any of the other forty chainsaws I have. It's keeping me from blogging regularly (on my personal blog), commenting regularly on others, and please don't even look at the last time I tweeted, for goodness sake.
I'm not saying I'm free from the blame here. I'm not. This is ALL me. But I'm wondering if the physical clutter is a sign that something's stuffed full upstairs, too. Maybe if I clean out the mess I can touch, I can clean out the mess that I can't find.
How do you deal with clutter?
Monday, July 19, 2010
Hello Beautiful World!
I'm back! I'm sure you're all ecstatic about that. I know I am. Mostly.
I'm only not ecstatic because the trouble with vacations is that you have to come back from them. And, boy, was that a vacation I could live my whole life doing. Ah, for infinite money and time to pursue silly dreams.
Anyway, firmly back in the real world now, I have, of course, had a lot of time to think and plot and . . . do absolutely no writing whatsoever. That's right-- all my puffing about "uninterrupted time to write" equaled me not even once cracking open my laptop while we were gone. To be fair, I was busy enjoying NOT having anything to do (and too much to do) all at once, which I like to think is a fairly strong excuse. Ahem.
Now, inspiration is a whole different animal. I'm totally feeling inspired. So much so, in fact, that I got a new book idea (dangit!) that's all pretty and new, but I'm still loving the ones I have in progress, and therefore have written down all the notes I can on the new one for later.
It has occurred to me that I will be writing for the rest of my life, and I certainly hope it's a long one.
This blog post is going to be like the movie TITANIC, where the first part is all fluff and already long enough to be a story unto itself, but wait! There's still an epic disaster to get through!
I mean, an epic post! On to business:
I'm right near my one-year anniversary of this crazy blogging thing. A year and two months ago, I had the inkling that I really ought to have a blog. But why write one? What about me was special enough that someone else would want to read it? (And those of you who follow me, I thank you for your sacrifice in the face of my frequent inanity and commend you for answering that question for yourselves-- it's still a mystery to me).
More importantly, who did I think I was, trying to tell someone else how to write?
This is also a question I still don't have the answer to. In fact, it makes me nervous to talk about writing technique a.) because I'm not exactly a reliable source, being as-yet un-agented, un-published, un-pretty-much-anything validating my authority, and b.) everyone writes so DIFFERENTLY. Some people need or want to write by the rules. Others, like me, would shanghai the whole palace of them if given the chance.
I've managed to putter along for a year giving a mix of my opinion and gentle wit, and hoping that the readership I managed to attract would understand the difference. Luckily, for the most part, you have. But it always burns inside, any time I write a post about, well, writing technique, because I don't feel like I'm the one to be giving you these tips.
Except I realized something else. Writers write about writing. Authors write about authoring. Publishing professionals write about publishing.
If you look at the blogs of published authors, their blogs generally aren't full of writing technique. Maybe they used to be, but now they're full of editorial notes and book signings and new covers and release dates. They're full of the things an author and their readers find important.
If you look at the blogs of publishing professionals, specifically those dealing with un-pubbed writers, their blogs are full of what they and their readers find important, too-- how to make things tighter and smoother to the benefit of everyone.
And if you look at the blogs of writers, who lean on each other for support during the bad times and the good, their blogs, too, are full of what's important to all of us: writing. We are in the pits, figuring it out for ourselves, hanging on the edge of this wild train as it flings us round bend after bend, and we rely on the support of others like us to validate that maybe, just maybe, we can do this whole crazy thing after all.
Maybe, just maybe, we can turn into authors and the need to write about writing will ease and we will have covers and signings and dates to talk about, too.
Until then, I still vow to try and lecture as little as possible and talk about more things that are up my alley besides writing. You know, to keep you crazy cats around.
I'm waaaay waaaay behind catching up on blogs, by the way. I'll be working my way through the backlog this week but it's like trying to run up a stack of loose paper-- entertaining, but difficult to get to the top.
Do you write about writing for a different reason? Or not at all?
I'm only not ecstatic because the trouble with vacations is that you have to come back from them. And, boy, was that a vacation I could live my whole life doing. Ah, for infinite money and time to pursue silly dreams.
Anyway, firmly back in the real world now, I have, of course, had a lot of time to think and plot and . . . do absolutely no writing whatsoever. That's right-- all my puffing about "uninterrupted time to write" equaled me not even once cracking open my laptop while we were gone. To be fair, I was busy enjoying NOT having anything to do (and too much to do) all at once, which I like to think is a fairly strong excuse. Ahem.
Now, inspiration is a whole different animal. I'm totally feeling inspired. So much so, in fact, that I got a new book idea (dangit!) that's all pretty and new, but I'm still loving the ones I have in progress, and therefore have written down all the notes I can on the new one for later.
It has occurred to me that I will be writing for the rest of my life, and I certainly hope it's a long one.
This blog post is going to be like the movie TITANIC, where the first part is all fluff and already long enough to be a story unto itself, but wait! There's still an epic disaster to get through!
I mean, an epic post! On to business:
I'm right near my one-year anniversary of this crazy blogging thing. A year and two months ago, I had the inkling that I really ought to have a blog. But why write one? What about me was special enough that someone else would want to read it? (And those of you who follow me, I thank you for your sacrifice in the face of my frequent inanity and commend you for answering that question for yourselves-- it's still a mystery to me).
More importantly, who did I think I was, trying to tell someone else how to write?
This is also a question I still don't have the answer to. In fact, it makes me nervous to talk about writing technique a.) because I'm not exactly a reliable source, being as-yet un-agented, un-published, un-pretty-much-anything validating my authority, and b.) everyone writes so DIFFERENTLY. Some people need or want to write by the rules. Others, like me, would shanghai the whole palace of them if given the chance.
I've managed to putter along for a year giving a mix of my opinion and gentle wit, and hoping that the readership I managed to attract would understand the difference. Luckily, for the most part, you have. But it always burns inside, any time I write a post about, well, writing technique, because I don't feel like I'm the one to be giving you these tips.
Except I realized something else. Writers write about writing. Authors write about authoring. Publishing professionals write about publishing.
If you look at the blogs of published authors, their blogs generally aren't full of writing technique. Maybe they used to be, but now they're full of editorial notes and book signings and new covers and release dates. They're full of the things an author and their readers find important.
If you look at the blogs of publishing professionals, specifically those dealing with un-pubbed writers, their blogs are full of what they and their readers find important, too-- how to make things tighter and smoother to the benefit of everyone.
And if you look at the blogs of writers, who lean on each other for support during the bad times and the good, their blogs, too, are full of what's important to all of us: writing. We are in the pits, figuring it out for ourselves, hanging on the edge of this wild train as it flings us round bend after bend, and we rely on the support of others like us to validate that maybe, just maybe, we can do this whole crazy thing after all.
Maybe, just maybe, we can turn into authors and the need to write about writing will ease and we will have covers and signings and dates to talk about, too.
Until then, I still vow to try and lecture as little as possible and talk about more things that are up my alley besides writing. You know, to keep you crazy cats around.
I'm waaaay waaaay behind catching up on blogs, by the way. I'll be working my way through the backlog this week but it's like trying to run up a stack of loose paper-- entertaining, but difficult to get to the top.
Do you write about writing for a different reason? Or not at all?
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