As 2014 tips into 2015...

I've been writing for years, finding my voice, finding footing in the stories I wanted to tell. This last year was the first that I seriously started submitting my work to strangers. Throwing myself out there is not something I do. So that is amazing. Accepting that I may not be understood or valued, and believing in myself is not something I did well in 2013. But I had to, in order to embrace the rejections that came back to me.

And yet some people liked what I had to say. And some people even sent me contracts, to share my work with others. So many steps forward, despite the push back. Every one of those steps is a beacon guiding me forward.

That's where my dream lies. It's the only path for me. I believe in fairies. I believe in Santa Claus. I believe in things I cannot see. I believe there are those out there who will feed from my stories.

May you find your passion in 2015. May you dive into what you need to do to see it through. There is only one you. Only one person in this whole world who sees what you see. I rang in the new year the way I want to live every day after... writing. Working on words. Thinking of my family. Wishing my loved ones health and happiness.

This last year has been solitude, work, loss, reunions, poverty, illness, surgery, births, love, work, success, rejection, love, and love...

May the next year be better. May my work be fruitful. May you find what you're missing. May you find it within you.


Here's a link to a separate blog post I wrote about my Great-Grandma's NYE diary.

Goodreads Giveaway!!

Check out this giveaway on Goodreads for a chance to win a free copy of the anthology What Follows that my story "The White Sisters" appears in! There are three chances to win!

A link to the publisher's website, which links to the giveaway on Goodreads!

We do hope that if you win, you write a review of the book for Goodreads, as well as Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Word of mouth is a writer's bread and butter. Hope you all are having a happy holidays!

The Art of Rejection

Actual rejection letter received.

I have a pile of them. And the hard truth is, they’re never going to stop. It takes great fortitude to pursue a career where a great majority of it involves facing, accepting, and processing rejection.

I’m in the midst of a spree of people like my stories! I’m getting at least to the last ring of consideration before the rejection which helps buffer the blow. It means I’m working in the right direction. But still, when that rejection comes, the third one in as many years from the same playwright festival, it dampens the joy. I still drop into what am I doing wrong?

I have received three story rejections in the last twenty-four hours and I’d be lying if I said the rejection didn’t sting. Oh, it wounds. They were positive rejections, as such a thing exists, encouraging me to try again. They liked my stories. They held them longer for consideration. But ultimately, they were not a good fit with the other selections made.

But there are going to be people who don’t like my work. There are going to be people who hate my voice and my message. What do you do with that when you are made of so much mushy insides?

I accept the rejection. I embrace it and understand that I am never going to be good enough for everyone. It’s just true. So I don’t have to try to be. I just have to be good enough for me. Trust me, no critic will ever be harder on my writing than me.

It means I have to be vigilant at shopping around for the right places for my voice. They’re out there. I’m not going to give up. So don’t give up, either. You are the only you in the world, with your tone of word and your point of view. If you don’t tell your stories, who will?

SEND

<send>

There is this rush of adrenaline when it’s done. I don’t think that will ever go away. You write a story and it’s a creation of yours. You’re attached to it. If you’re not, you might be in the wrong profession. And then you let it loose. You send it out into the world.

Will it be good enough?

Will they like it?

Did I polish it enough without losing my intention?

The reality about writing is that every draft you discard is still alive inside you. Every character you create and then cut out is a shadow in the story, something that was. And it’s very possible at the end for it to get muddy in your brain. It’s why having beta readers is SO important! But despite the story itself, out in the big world, there are other hopes.

Is this the right market for it?

Is it a good fit for the project?

Will my story find a home?

And you hope. And you dive into the next project and try to forget that you’re waiting to hear. And you finish the next story and you send it out. And your heart skips a beat as you hit the button. And you flush with terror and adrenaline. And you hope.

<send>

Published in a New Anthology!

My story “The White Sisters” has been accepted into a new anthology called What Follows, edited by April Steenburgh and Christy Lennox, editors of Fight Like a Girl! In my story, the White Sisters are dryads who belong to a birch sect of watchers, waking into a post-apocalyptic world where the land and trees around them are dying.

The book is available in e-book format and soon to be available in print-on-demand. I’m really proud of this story!

"How would an Immortal deal with the End Times? The world will inevitably come stumbling into apocalypse, and They will be there to witness it. Dryads, demi-gods, deities of every pantheon- is it possible for the Eternal to handle an ending with grace? Should it come through disease, disaster, or religious fervor, discover What Follows..."

Other stories by Lyn Thorne-Alder, M.J. King, Joyce Chng, Kate Larking, Nina Waters, K Orion Fray, E.V. O'Day, Crystal Sarakas, Ross Bennett, and April Steenburgh.

Writing Goals

Today I sat down and made a list of what my goals in this process are:

• Write every day.
• Finish a story.
• Submit stories regularly for consideration for publication.
• Get rejections.
• Get used to rejection.
• Work on my story crafting.
• Get better rejections, like "not a good fit" instead of "your story is crap."
• Receive 50 rejections.
• Get a story accepted into an anthology.
• Get a story accepted into a pro-rate magazine.
• Get paid for a story.
• Get paid a professional rate for a story.
• Get paid royalties.
• Become a better self-editor.
• Finish a novella and submit it.
• Finish a full-length novel and submit it.
• Meet Neil Gaiman.

I can't think of anything I've forgotten.

To Be a Writer

You say prayers before you open your e-mail account. You’ve been staring at the login for a while, trying to give yourself a reason to not check, ever since you sent that story out. It was the first story you sent, destined to be your first rejection, and you know it. You just don’t know how you’ll react.

Every positive rejection is a step in the right direction.

It’s a mantra you created though you know you’re not the first lips to utter them. Still, it stings when you read them:

“Thanks for your submission. Although we generally thought this story had merit, in the end we decided that it wouldn't be a good fit for the anthology. Unfortunately, we are going to pass on this one.”

“Thank you for your submission, but I’m afraid it’s not quite what I’m looking for. Best of luck to you in placing this elsewhere.”

“Thank you for letting us read your story. Unfortunately it is not quite right for the anthology. Good luck placing the story elsewhere!”

“Thank you for sending us your story. Although it's not the right fit, we're glad you thought of us. We wish you the best of luck placing this piece elsewhere.”

You’re grateful for the kind words. So you don’t give up. But you know you’ve missed the mark because they didn’t even critique it. And you try to quell the demon rising inside you, gnashing it’s teeth, because it wants to eat all of the words you wrote and swallow the ones that weren’t good enough. You hush the demon's rage because you know it’s more like a jigsaw puzzle. You have all the right elements. They're just not dancing in accord yet.

So you go back to the keyboard and you open your hands and you write. Because there are more stories and more characters coming alive within you and you have to get them out. And each time you tell their tales, you come closer to being the kind of writer your heart longs for, and you know it. You feel it in your blood. And you chase the dragons in your head. 

Every time you send another story out, you clench your fists, wondering how, in what new way, your words will be judged.

I don’t think that will ever go away.

But you learn that your stories are stray cats that just have to find the right homes. They’re good. And you plug away and plug away. You lose yourself in the creation of lives.

Then one day you open your e-mail and you’re reading the words and you don’t understand what they say because you’re reading them wrong. Because they don’t say “Unfortunately.” They liked your story. A lot. 

They want your story. They sent you a contract and everything. And now you’re a published author. The euphoria lasts through the night. You tell your parents, your partner, and your friends.

When dawn comes and you wake, toddling to the computer, bleary-eyed, you open a file and start all over again. You dance fingers across keys and your inner demon shouts synonyms at you for all the cliche words you first think. And life is born within you and released. And you write.

You write because you don’t know what else to do.