Trifecta Challenge: 3 Word Resolutions

Sorry I haven't done much here or otherwise, but the busy holiday season sent me scampering here there and everywhere.

But I finally have a few spare minutes to check in and make a new Trifecta submission:

Michael Hess inspired us with his three word New Year's resolution;just be nice. We're asking for your own resolutions in just three words. Make it count; we'll be checking back in come 2015.

And since this is our ninety-ninth Trifextra challenge, we're giving away the journal shown below from Tricerashops, our Cafe Press shop, in a randomly drawn giveaway. All you have to do to be entered is to enter this week's challenge. Good luck and good writing.

So, here goes:

Publish My Book!

 Here's three more:

Finish Second Book!

Here's yet three more:

Outline Third Book!

And Lastly:

Write Third Book!

**********************************************

Technically I probably disqualified myself for official entry in this week's trifecta challenge, but this is more of a reminder to myself what I really want to accomplish in the upcoming year. I have a manuscript that needs a little polishing (for the nine-millionth time), the first in a trilogy that I want to publish and I will make this year my year and I will pass my son's legacy on to as many people and I possibly can. One of the many reasons, I feel, that Ukiah was brought into my life was to show me that I was capable of writing a book and also of doing something that was so much bigger than myself. I have to continue passing on his legacy by finishing the other two books in that series and by getting them out to the masses by any means necessary.

I don't talk about that book here much, but perhaps I should start. It's YA Paranormal and it deals with kids who have special needs, different diagnoses and limitations, but also abilities. Their limitations are also their powers, and that's how I chose to see every child with life limiting or special diagnosis. What we see as limitations and disabilities I chose to see as gifts. 

I will do it this year and if not I'll at least make great strides in trying. Wish me luck and check back here for updates.

Come join my fish bowl

Seeking: Another fish to swim furiously in my bowl... Of writing!

So, remember how I said I felt like I was in a fishbowl while I was waiting for my book critique? Well, I got the critique back a while ago. I haven't talked about it much because I've needed some time to digest it all. The one thing I have figured out is that I may be in that fish bowl in more ways than one. I'm just beginning to realize that I might be doing an injustice to the book by not having more than family and friends read it and offer their feedback.

I really want to take the process of getting this published seriously. I'm taking a getting published class from Gotham Writer's Workshop right now. I'm thinking about different publishing methods/houses that might work for me.

But I need to take the process of critiquing just as seriously, only I don't know where to turn. I know that there are some editorial services that I can pay to get my work critiqued, but when you factor in their per word or per page charge, well... it ain't a huge amount but it's not something to just shake a stick at either. I'm not sure I'm ready to sink that much money into having my book critiqued by an outside source.

People have mentioned finding a critique/writers group either in my area or online as a free/cheap alternative, but I'm not sure where to begin. If you have any good suggestions, I'm open to them. I'm in Norcal, so a writing/critique group in the bay area would be great. Any online options you've had luck with would also be appreciated.

But I'm also putting out an open call to writers who have stuff they'd want me to critique and who would be willing to critique my stuff in return. I don't really care what genre you write in. I'm willing to give any sort of work a read and turn my critical eye to it, if you'd be willing to read my work in return.

What do you say? Ready to jump into my fishbowl? Come on in, the water's fine!

Hungry cats need not apply

Self-Realization

You know what I just figured out about myself? I don't wait very well. In fact I'm as impatient as all get out. And the impatience makes me anxious which drives me nuts which means I'm going to drive every one else nuts with my anxiety.

Now, this is something I have known about myself for years but I'll forget about, or because I've got a thousand other neuroses that rear their ugly heads, it takes a back seat sometimes. But when I'm "in a fishbowl" so to speak, it becomes readily apparent. 

Right now, the first three chapters of my book are getting critiqued thanks to a package I bought from Indies Unite for Joshua. This isn't the first time my book has been in the hands of some sort of professional. I mean there was that book contest this year, and that literary agent that one time. But it's the first time I'll get any real feedback from a writing professional, to know that someone is finally paying the book more than a cursory glance and I'll get a real idea of the book's chances out there in the real world.

And I haven't exactly been patient about the process. With the person doing the critique (Who is completely awesome and you should give her books a gander) I've been nothing but polite and understanding. With my husband on the other hand? Based on our conversations that I'm forcing him to have with me pretty frequently, you'd be convinced I've gone to some sort of analysis school. I'm picking apart wording of emails, trying to figure out if a long critique time means anything, If there's something in our email back and forth's that I'm missing. Then I start analyzing myself. Maybe I should have revised the thing again for the millionth time before I sent it off, or spent more time explaining the concept or spent more time on the synopsis, or... and the list goes on from there. And then I bring it back to; Or maybe, just maybe she's really busy and these things take time.  (To that last statement I go Pffffhhhhhttttt. It's got to be about me, all MEEEEEE!)

Again, I don't wait well. Outwardly, I convey the very essence of patience, but inwardly? I'm swimming madly in my internal fishbowl like a Beta fish on meth. I ain't good at it. It doesn't look good on me.  And it doesn't do much for my husband's sanity either. Thankfully my daughter is of an age that she doesn't care what's going on with me as long as I feed her on time. And believe you me she takes that very seriously. Hell hath no fury like an 8 month old who has to wait for pureed carrots.

Now, if you all will excuse me, I think I'll get back into my internal fishbowl and swim furiously.

Since When did Writing become Hard Work?

The internet kind of freaks me out ya’ll. And I’m not just talking about Chat Roulette and fetish sites either. I’m talking about the myriad of posts I’ve run across in the last few months about all the work I’m supposed to be doing as writer/blogger/producer or media/consumer of media that I’m just not doing.  

It’s stressing me out a little bit. Because here I am, having written a book that I’m trying publish (admittedly half-assedly) and I’m aware of all the stuff I should be doing to get it published but now I’m suddenly really aware of the nine-bajillion other things I should be doing and it kind of makes my brain want to explode. Not only do I need a great synopsis/pitch, and my first three chapters have to be awesome, and blah-blah-blah-get-your-crap-together-cakes. I got that, well not in the since of actually getting it, but in the sense like I’m supposed to get it.

But now there are other things, like making sure my marketing/public image is consistent, that I’m doing enough to be ‘out there’ and be known. Heck I’m not even doing enough to create posts on my own blog but now I’m being told that I should think about guest blogging on other people’s blogs to leverage my own name and you know that it’s a lot of work, even the idea of breaking out as a writer and making a name for myself.

Not that I didn’t know that already. I mean, I watched my mom’s book languish and I’ve seen the issues she’s had self-publishing and self-marketing, but thanks to all these other blogs (Bad Red Head Media and Rachelle Gardner’s blog to name but a few) I feel REALLY overwhelmed. Like Really, Really, Really Overwhelmed.

Since when did writing become such hard work? I always just thought if you wrote good things, and you enjoyed what you wrote, things would fall into place (although, the readership on my blog would beg to differ, heh!). And it’s not like I didn’t know being a writer/blogger/producer of media isn’t work, and that there aren’t pitfalls/issues inherent to this process. But now I’m acutely aware you know? Like REALLY aware, and that awareness ain't making things any easier.

I know I’m not doing enough. I know there’s several things I could be doing to maximize my readership as a blogger and I definitely know there’s things I could be doing to maximize my book’s exposure (but I haven’t edited it for the thirteenth billion time? It’s not ready yet!) And I am taking steps to try and do that. I bought a writer’s package at Indies Unite 4 Joshua, which is a step in the right direction and already Indies Unite 4 Joshua has put in contact with some amazing people, although I don’t know if they know I have a book yet, but hopefully soon they will. I’m dipping my toe into the pool at least, maybe kind of? No?!?! Fine Internet! I know I’m not doing enough! Pipe down so I can watch videos of cats playing piano instead!

Bloody Munchkin beaten by the Book Contest

You know that one martial arts character in like every action movie ever that enters some tournament all full of bravado and piss and vinegar only to be knocked out in the first round? That’s what I feel like right now. Actually, you know that movie Balls of Fury where the guy goes into his first tournament in years thinking it’ll be a piece of cake only to be thoroughly tromped by…. Patton Oswalt? Yeah, that’s where I’m at right now.

Well That Happened. I had high hopes, really I did, but maybe it was a crap shoot the way my husband said, or maybe I didn’t do enough to distinguish myself, or maybe the field was really stacked against me, but whatever the reason, my book didn’t get past the first round of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Contest.

I should probably be more upset, or God knows what my reaction should be. But I’m dealing with it better than I expected. And yes, before you even ask, I consider eating the last Thin Mints in a flurry dealing with things better than expected, because A) It wasn’t a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and  b) I’m not crying my eyes out, which based on my penchant for drama is usually my normal reaction to this sort of  rejection.

I could tell I wasn’t the only one dealing with my rejection though. My husband took me to lunch and we tried to make sense of the rejection together. I think, even though he knew it was a crapshoot, he wanted this for me as badly as I did.  

I tried. I put myself and my book out there and I tried. And I’m going to keep trying. The thing is, I know my book is worthy of being published and that it should be. I’m incredibly proud of what I did and I will find a way to get it out there, period. I wrote the book as a way to cope and to deal with all of the hardships and heartache we were dealing with regarding Ukiah and in a way the book and the characters that I created have become my babies as well. And I know my baby got rejected yesterday, but I’ll just pick my chin back up and try again.

And honestly, based on the titles that were picked to go to the next round, maybe I’m happy I didn’t. I kevetched with my husband on some of the titles that did make it through. I mean “Time Sniffers” made it through and my title didn’t? Time Sniffers? This is an actual title of an actual book that someone actually wrote? I don’t know where to begin.And that title wasn't even the worst offender. Don't get me started.

I don’t know where to go next, because I’m really flying blind here. I don’t know whether to start looking for literary agents again, or to enter another contest , or take a class on getting published, but rest assured, this is not the end to the story, it is just the beginning.

Bloody Munchkin and the Book Contest Fight!

So the first round for the ABNA contest  that I entered officially ended yesterday. I guess I probably would’ve made more of a fuss about it if I hadn’t been so busy. I only edited my entry twice, which, based on the number of times I’ve edited the book I put up for the contest is showing considerable restraint. And really and truly I probably would’ve spent a considerable amount of time editing and re-editing the entire entry if I wasn’t so darned busy. The last weekend in January found me hanging out in New Orleans for a work function, so I had absolutely no time in which to be obsessively neurotic there and then I come home and life continued to intervene.

Work and life as a mother of a four month old continually intervened, which is probably a blessing in disguise. In truth, because this is my first book, not to mention first creative writing project I’ve ever completed, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Should I have not submitted the first two chapters as my 5000 word sample? Should I have submitted chapter three, where I actually introduce the main character, instead? But the contest rules clearly stated up to the first 5000 words, and I should follow the letter of the law right? But maybe the letter of the law could be taken to mean 5000 introductory words? And what about my author’s introduction section, and should I have created a preview? And… and?!?!

See that? That inner monologue that you just had to endure? I’m really happy I was too busy to continue to have that conversation with myself while the contest was still open. Because if I had continued, and if I had made the inner monologue an outer diatribe and forced my husband to listen to it over and over again, you would’ve heard reports of a grisly murder suicide in a quiet tri-valley area suburb.

So now all I can do is wait until the second round to see if I’m one of the 1000 entrants that was selected to go to the next round, which wraps on February 23^rd. I’d probably be neurotically anxious about it if life would stop getting in the way. But thankfully it won’t.

Bloody Munchkin Vs. The Book Contest

So you remember that book I talked about forever and a day ago? That one where I half-heartedly sent it into a literary agent? Yeah that one?

Well it was rejected by said literary agent in 0.37 seconds forever and a day ago. And said rejection, forever and a day ago, lead to one of my favorite conversations ever:

“Yeah, they sent me back a postcard sized rejection letter.”

“Dude, I realize that postage is expensive and stuff but would it kill them to send a full size letter when they  reject you?”

“I had to send a self-addressed stamped envelope with my query. They rejected me with my own postage.”

“Dude!”

I think if I were ever to open up a Café Press store or to create my own t-shirt, ‘They rejected me with my own postage’ would be the t-shirt I’d make. Well that, and I have to make both my dad and my daughter shirts that say ‘I could eat.’ Because they can, often and in quantity.

But I didn’t come here to talk about random conversations I’ve had, or what witty t-shirts I’d make if I’d have the chance. Today I took a potentially big step and submitted my book into the 2012 Breakthrough Novel Award Contest. And I have to be honest, I’m freaking out. I have been for about a week straight. I’ve thought and over-thought about a million little things and then, while entering the contest, I realized that there were a million other things that I hadn’t thought about at all, which means I’m going to spend another week thinking and over-thinking those things until the contest officially closes and I’m not allowed to think of those things any more.

Did I mention I’m freaking out? To the point of distraction and also to the point that its not just me that I’m distracting. I’m calling my phone tree for help every few seconds, bouncing ideas off of them, peppering them with the smallest insignificant questions, dumping tons of emails on them so that they can review my stuff for grammar and content. But the person getting the brunt of it is my husband, my poor amazing husband who has always sort of realized that I’m a total co-dependent but the reality hit him hard this week. I was second guessing every decision I’d ever made, up to the point that I was considering rewriting the first two chapters, or cutting them out altogether. I think he had to talk me down off the metaphorical ledge about this sort of stuff like five times. And the number of times he had to tear me away from vigorous revising this weekend was astronomical. “Would you put that away for an hour, you have a child to feed.”

Or:

“If I don’t get this published soon, I’m going to be revising it until I’m eighty!”

“I knew that. And?”

(Ok, so maybe I did come here to talk about random conversations)

Finally, I let out my worries. “What if one sentence, or one decision is the difference between making it through a round and not making it through?”

“I don’t think one sentence or one paragraph is going to make a huge difference. There’s a million different reasons why you might not make it through. The person reading your entry could be pissed off at life, or in a really bad mood or could just not be into it that day when every other day this would have been something he or she was into. Try not to over-think it.”

Which, has my husband met me? That’s all I do, ever! But he’s right, there could be a thousand reasons why I won’t make it to the next round or the round after that and they may have nothing to do with my actual book, or they may have everything to do with my book. But at some point I just have to trust that I created a great story and hope that other people see that too.

I hope so. I hope that everything Ukiah taught me and that I put in that book gets out there into the world. I hope I can share my memories of him with other people and that they’d get to know what a tremendous spirit he was, because it is in there too. I hope.

New Year's resolutions

2011 came and went in a blink of an eye didn’t it? Here I am on the precipice of a new year, contemplating what has happened in the year that’s about to wrap, and contemplating what I’d like to accomplish in the new one. The biggest accomplishment of 2011 for me and mine? The birth of my daughter. We welcomed her with open hearts and open arms in September and my life hasn’t been the same since.

Her birth and her life up this point have filled both my husband and myself with bittersweet joy. We’re so blessed to have her in our lives, but there’s a tinge of sadness there, because we miss her brother so much and he’s still such a big part of our hearts and our lives.

But contemplating her new life, and Ukiah’s very short one have made me want to do more with mine, and as such, and looking out into this new year coming up, I’m considering those very clichéd but necessary prospects, resolutions. As of right now, I only have two.

1.       Read more.

      

      This year has reminded me how much I love to read, and how seldom I read anything of worth through to completion. The one book I did read through to completion this year was Jane Eyre. This was the first time I’d actually read it, and I have to say I loved it! And I’ve come to the realization that I need to read more and actually finish the books I’ve started to read. In the past five years, I’ve started Michael Chabon’s The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay twice and STILL have not finished it. I’m halfway through CJ Cherryh’s very awesome Down Below Station and still haven’t finished that either! I received an Amazon Kindle Fire as an early Christmas gift from my company and I’m currently in the middle of Micheal Scott’s The Alchemist but that’s only because I got halfway through Michael Scott’s The Necromancer before I realized that there were three books before it! So I obviously want to work my way through that series sometime this year. And that’s just the books I’m halfway in the middle of. I still have a list of books a mile wide that I haven’t even started yet.

      I bought Swamplandia at my favorite bookstore ever (Hi City Lights! I love you! I don’t tell you that enough!) because it was so highly recommended and have not started it. My mother gave me The Book Thief and Little Bee with the intention that I actually read them and I really, really, really want to! I also downloaded a bunch of free books on that Kindle Fire that I want to get through. Also, I won a hardcover version of Emma (Thanks again at @PenguinUSA!) that I want to plough through. I’ve forgotten how worthwhile the act of reading through a book is and I want to rekindle (Ha!) my love affair with books if at all possible. I know it’s a heady proposition, having a child that’s not even one yet and trying to fit in reading, but I have to try! And I want to document this new love affair here if at all possible. Which brings me to my next resolution:

2.       Write more.

As I wrote earlier this year, I’ve dubiously started writing again, which started with revising my completed novel and beginning the second novel in the series. I did revise the first one and began the process of trying to get it published, and I was rejected by my first literary agent! Woo! I’m still (slowly) trying to find a literary agent, or means of getting published, which hopefully will change this year as I’m going to try and enter this contest.

I don’t know how far I’ll get, if I get anywhere, but I have to try. So I’m going to try and write more. I’m going to try to write more pages of the second and third book in the series I have planned. I’m going to try and write more in this space (I’ve made that promise before, HA!) and my other blogs and I’m just going to try and write anything that comes to me. I’ve let too many good ideas pass through me unwritten and life is too short to let good ideas pass unnoticed.

Both of these are heady prospects given my full time job, my daughter, and my husband, but I want to make them work. Wish me luck!

The Big Step

I did something kind of momentous, at least it was for me. I sent out a sample of my book to a literary agent. It was the last, and relatively small step I've been meaning to do since I finished my book a year and a half ago. And yet it was huge.

I don't talk about the book much, here or anywhere else, mostly cause Chris has me so paranoid that it could be stolen at any moment that I'm scared for anybody to look at it. Its also partly because I'm so tied up in it that I don't want to write about it, afraid of sharing too much. But its something important to me, mostly because its the only piece of fiction work I've actually had the wherewithal to complete. I love writing creatively, but aside from the odd short story or rambling essay, I haven't had the true compunction to finish writing anything bigger than a few pages.

Then Ukiah came along and changed all that. I was so inspired by what he went through and so motivated by not just his story but his spirit, that I felt it necessary to write it all down and put is somewhere. It's a piece of work I like to call partly autobiographical, partly science fiction. It's not Ukiah's story, in case you're wondering, but he's in there. It's not all about his medical trials and tribulations, but they are in there too. It's about so much more than that. Like all great books, I believe it takes a new and irreverent look at the human experience, and I think that's really what writers want to do. We just want to provide a thread to the tapestry of life.

And so yesterday I knowingly and willfully gave a piece of that thread to a literary agent clear across the country. All my hopes and dreams for the future are in the fed-ex box headed East. Yesterday I tweeted "Just left my future in the hands if a kinko's guy. Bye-bye writing sample for lit agent! Do me proud!" then I promptly entered my prenatal yogo class, picked a card my teacher hands out for the day containing affirmations, and saw that I picked the Surrender card. Basically, the card stated, I need to surrender to the fates whatever happens now. Apt, for what I'd just done. There's not much else I can do but surrender. I did my best. I scoured and cleaned my writing sample to within an inch of its life. I rewrote and rewrote sections. I checked and double checked the query letter and now all I can do is wait.

I have no idea what tomorrow will bring or the day after that. Maybe the lit agent will read the first 50 pages, become intrigued and then ask for the rest. Maybe I'll get a form rejection letter saying better luck next time. Maybe my package will get lost in freaky plane accident a la The Castaway, and will be adrift out to sea for a decade until somebody brings it back. All I know is I have to try. I have to get someone to see the beauty in what I wrote, so the outside world will. Also, apparently, I have to surrender.