Lag Time

It’s been a while. Since my last post I have had two more Outpatient surgeries with a Carbon Scar Laser to breakdown the thicker scar tissue on my legs limiting my mobility. With that came two weeks of intense recovery, which included pain as well as exhaustion and mental fatigue from the anesthesia.

It made writing practically impossible. That was severely frustrating, coming after two years of trying desperately to regain my form, discipline, and momentum.

Then the day came where I found myself with no submissions out for publication consideration. No one was reading my work. And I panicked.

It’s hard enough, while in recovery, not to feel useless every time I have to set a story aside to be finished later, or let go of a submission deadline I could meet if I only didn’t do any of the self-care I need to do. It feels like failure.

If I want any kind of longevity my self-care has to come first. I know this. It doesn’t mean I don’t push at the edges of what that means to see how much more I can do as I heal.

So I spent two weeks in a half-haze discerning which submission calls were realistic to attempt time-wise. I sent a few out and then had to stop. The quality was lagging. I didn’t want to compromise my writing out of fear. But now there are subs still out, still being considered. Every day that goes by without a rejection is a blessed day.

And I’m starting to have the energy again to work.

Stories are forming from the warming days. Characters are climbing out of the birdsong and their histories poke through the cold earth. There will be time to recover and time to write.

A Post-Accident Milestone

Last week I sent out five stories to answer submission calls. Now I just have to wait and see if they intrigue the editors enough to want to buy them. It's a writing and waiting game.

And sometimes you win.

I just sold the first story I wrote after my accident!

That makes me happy on many levels. It means the work I've been doing to get my hands back in shape and regain discipline around writing every day has begun to harvest results.

I'll post more information about the sale after I sign the contract.

*

I always mean to write on the blog more but I spend all of my free time writing my stories.


Whatever it is you dream of doing, just start doing it. May it consume all of your time until it becomes your vocation.

Recovery Road

It's been a year since the accident that almost took my life. How could I not be thinking about that tonight? In many ways it's been a very long year. And in another way, I don't feel like I have a lot to show for it.

Except I can walk, talk, write, make myself food in the kitchen, put my shoes on by myself, use the bathroom, wipe myself, check the mailbox, climb stairs, cough, etc. I had to relearn all of it. And I did, like a champ. From the outside now, I move slowly, but you wouldn't necessarily know something so almost-devastating had happened to me. Most days that is enough to make me happy.

My recovery has taken me longer than I expected. The more honest answer is that it has taken a lot more out of me than I expected. When I get most frustrated, my brain sighs heavily and says, "You were a pillar of fire."

I was not in a fire. I was the fire.

I spend most of my time preparing-to-do-things, like getting clothes ready to put on, or getting ready to wash up, or getting ready to make the bed. And then I can do one thing to cross off my list. I keep making plans of five things to do a day, but I forget to start the list with all the things I already have to do before any of the extras can get done.

If I get one extra thing crossed off, one new thing done, I call it a win.

And then, at the end of the day, when my exhaustion-induced-naps are over, I write. But two months ago it would have been, "I try to write," so I will embrace the improvement. And my writing spurts sound more like my old voice, and more easily so on my first try. It's not that I had any damage to my brain. But when your body is still using processing points to remember how to step up on a curb, it doesn't want to divert power to imaginary world-building.

And I learned that even then, it's not about desire. It's not about want. It's about can't.

So you have to ride it out. Or you could fight it, but I'm pretty sure that will just tire you out more, requiring more naps than now, and if now is very frustrating to you, it's probably not the best choice.

I have managed to write a few new stories and submit some of my pre-accident ones. Within the last month the story muse has been singing faster than my healing hands can type, so I'm getting better at choosing what to work on and catch-in-the-moment. Better discernment is a good skill to have.

I like to note my silver linings. They make the pain worth something.

I even found a story I sent out the morning of my accident. I couldn't recall the storyline. Once I read it I remembered having the idea for it and drafting it, but I couldn't remember how I ended it at all. How many writers get to say they read one of their own finished stories for the first time and didn't know what was going to happen?

Three of my recent submission responses were we-really-liked-your-story-and-held-it-for-further-consideration-but-it-didn't-fit-with-our-other-selections, and two of my responses were sales. That feels really good. I am not back to where I was, but I am back on track. I lost momentum for a while but I didn't lose my creative mojo.

A year ago I was on fire and they thought I was going to die. Today I am putting pen to paper and birthing a new world. These are good things.

It Never Hurts to Ask, aka Another Story Sold!

In July I stumbled upon a submission that I thought was a perfect match for one of my most treasured stories, but my story was over 500 words over their limit. I moved on, but there was this niggling feeling in my gut that maybe I should message them and ask if they would still consider it.

That's a worrying thing as a young writer-in-the-business. You don't know what questions are bothersome. You don't know if it's something that will expose your naivete, and whether or not that will red flag you with the editors and publishers you're trying to work with.

I was raised with the idea that it never hurts to ask. As a child, I learned quickly that it's not necessarily true, but I like to believe the best of the world. So I queried the editor, hoping it would be a fruitful quest. I was promptly assured that all submissions were given consideration and encouraged to send it along.

I understood. Everything would be weighed the same, but if it was over, it would have to be good. And I was surprised/relieved to discover that I had complete faith in my story. Maybe it wouldn;t end up being a good fit, but it was a good story. Even a great one.


It was good that I listened to my gut, because the editors liked my story and are going to include it in their anthology!! They did ask for some confidentiality while they send out the non-acceptance letters, which I respect and admire, but I will post more information as it becomes available.

They're hoping for a Fall 2016 publication, so you don't have long to wait!

Is There a World Outside My Computer?

I have been working on five stories this month, all due in four days. I'm in good shape. I have the next three days heavily scheduled out with a current schedule that affords me time to immerse myself in my worlds and still be present in my home- although my cat Mara might disagree. She has been denied lap more times than she feels is justified.

It was hard to get disciplined, but easy to stay that way. I have found my groove. I worried I wouldn't, but chased it anyway. If I get all my submissions done by Friday, I'll actually be able to enjoy my holiday weekend.

Good News Cometh

I have a sci-fi story and a fantasy story to edit. I have an urban fantasy story to clean up and another urban fantasy story to bring to life. So of course, I started working on an original fairy tale instead. 

Sometimes the muse bids us to follow another wind. And sometimes looming deadlines overrule the whims of the muse.

*

Yesterday morning, I woke to an e-mail in my inbox. Since they’re mostly rejections, I was ready to steel myself for a few minutes of sadness and tears, before moving on. But when I opened it, I almost didn’t understand the words:

“I am happy to tell you that your excellent story has been accepted…”

Cue tears of disbelief, hand over my mouth in joy. The contract will come next month. The YA anthology the story has been accepted in should be published this October. More info to come!

And, this morning I learned that a story I signed a contract on last summer is moving forward with it’s publication. That’s two stories due to be printed this year!

It doesn’t mean I get to relax. I have to maintain this momentum. More hiccups and hurdles will come. But so will the good news. 

Silver Linings

I have five stories out waiting to be read and accepted or rejected. One story has been out since September, almost seven months now. On the publisher’s webpage, several authors have posted about signing contracts and getting published, only to never receive payment or their contributor’s copy. The publisher has responded each time publicly, assuring that they did so months ago. But they have yet to respond to my story. And it’s unlikely I would sign the contract if they did. It’s a shame. It’s a good one that would have meshed perfectly with their project.

But otherwise… other authors have been posting their rejections to projects I submitted. It’s nerve-wracking, and ironic, as artists and creative types tend to be sensitive by nature. And wounded by rejections over creations we consider to be our children. It’s enough to make some people give up. To decide that at some numbered rejection, their story isn’t good enough and they set it aside.

We forget that there’s also the audience to consider. Sometimes we shop stories around to the wrong places, because we don’t know better. I’ve had my fair share of those. I’m new to the business and not so savvy about that end of it. So there are bound to be hiccups and bumps along the road.

What matters is that I get up, dust myself off, and keep going. What matters most to me, about this journey, is that I didn’t think I had the heart for so much “no” and I am encouraged to find that the fortitude to do it anyway, because it is in my nature to do so, lives inside me, beneath that hurt.

I have this ritual I do every morning before I open my author e-mail account. I tell myself that rejection is part of the journey. If I get them it’s because I’m putting myself out into the world. And I believe that eventually, after a slew of rejections, the acceptance letters will come. So I welcome the rejections.

Still, every morning I don’t have a rejection in my inbox is a good one. It means one more day my story is being considered. When your career boils down to a daily game of chance, it’s all about the silver linings.

What keeps you going, on your uncertain path? 

Fundraisers, and Why Artists Ask You to Back Them

Photo by Sarah Lyn Eaton

Steps in Being a Writer (as I have discovered them in my personal journey, so take it with many grains of salt)

1) The first step in being a writer is to write.

2) The second step is to finish something.

3) The third step is to let someone else read it. This is the stage for beta readers, where I want to know if the story makes sense? Did you enjoy it? Did you care about the characters?

4) The next step is a hodgepodge of waiting for feedback and getting sick waiting, of wanting it and not wanting it at the same time. It’s where the artistic crisis of faith comes into play and you doubt every word you wrote and you’re not sure anyone will like your story, EVER. That feeling never truly goes away, for any artist, but it does lead you to…

5) Believe in yourself, that this is your path, or let it go and find another. Which you’ll consider for half a day, seriously, until you remember there is no other path.

6) Accept that no story will ever be perfect from the gate and learn how to edit yourself, how to craft your story the way you want to tell it. I often have multiple people reading during this stage, where I get a little more insistent with my questions. If all you give me is “I liked it” you might as well kiss me with death-lips. I’m glad you liked it. But there are a lot of good writers out there. I want you to want to read it again. And I repeat this step until I am satisfied.

7) The fourth step is to send it out, pray to whatever deities you believe in, and cultivate fortitude. There will be way more rejections than acceptances. If, like me, you aren’t sure about the market for your stories, you might start with smaller non-professional paying anthologies, magazines, and e-zines before submitting to professional markets. Seriously, I thought I understood how many rejections might come my way. I was wrong. If you’re lucky, you’ll get helpful feedback with your rejection. But when publishers have to sort through hundreds of stories in a timely manner, you can’t expect it.

This last step is where dreams can wilt.

I started sending stories out to non-professional paying markets while I practiced my story crafting. It’s very common to be offered $30 for a 6000 word story when the going rate is .06/word professionally, which would be $360. That’s a $330 pay cut for the experience and exposure. And I get it. Start-up publishers would like to pay more but can’t, though they still want the talent to come in build their reputation.

So far, I have sold my stories for a split share of royalties, because at the end of the day, if someone wants my story, I want them to have it. That’s the reason I chose this path. To share my stories. Not to make money (hopeless artist). But I am hoping that along the journey, that will happen as well (hopeful artist).

It’s what we all hope.

I submitted a story for consideration to an e-zine that can only pay $15 a story right now, but I had an early story that fit their theme and I would be happy to be included- and ecstatic to get $15 for my writing right now! A lot of publishers hope you will sell them your story for exposure, which is good, but it’s like asking a band to come play for a night in your club for exposure, or asking an artist to paint a mural on your building for free because people will see their work. And it is exposure. Which you can do once in a while. And most artists I know do it more than once in a while. Because the path is more important to us. Too bad the taxman didn’t feel the same way.

The last 6000 word story I wrote was the child of three days of story crafting and world building and question answering and outline/draft typing, stopping only to eat and sleep and clean the cat litter. It was followed by five days of exhaustive editing and fleshing out. I kept track. I was working ten hour days to finish a story that will maybe, eventually, earn me money. The more I write, the shorter each step gets, and the better my work gets, which will hopefully mean more stories will sell. It’s a strange teeter-totter.

Where the Fundraising Part Comes In

Many writers and young publishers have turned to the world of fundraising to procure the funds needed to produce a new book, hopefully including payment to the authors, too. Fundraising is similar to ways in which artists have historically been aided. Those patrons who enjoyed the art, music, literature, or theatre, etc. but could not do it themselves would pay artist’s bills while they produced for the pleasure of the discovery.

To be an artist means you make difficult choices as you pursue your craft, each step of the way fighting society’s expectations of and for you. So why should you give some of your well-earned money to artists? Because what would this world be like without art? Without Beethoven or Eric Clapton? Without Shakespeare or Tony Kushner? Without Walt Whitman, Maria Ranier Rilke, or Mary Oliver? Without Meryl Streep or Sir Ian McKellan? Without Vincent Van Gogh, Mary Cassatt, Kandinsky, Michelangelo, or Andrew Wyeth? If you go to the movies, you already support the arts!

And you could help support and encourage the birth of my next story.

A link to the kickstarter campaign for Mobbing Midnight: An Anthology of Crows, and the update where I answer the question "Why Crows?"

The way these campaigns work is, if you feel inclined to donate, you become a patron of the arts and what is known as a “backer” with several rewards that include offering you a reserved copy of the book by helping in advance. The money is not taken from you until the campaign is over. If we don’t reach our goal, you don’t lose any money, the book doesn’t get funded, and we probably publish it anyway, because our stories are our children and we want to set them loose in the world. And then we hope for royalties after the book sells.

You could be a revolutionary. Donations start as $1 but for just $12, it also gets you a copy of the finished book, plus a book mark featuring art by Jennifer Campbell-Smith. You may think even a dollar doesn’t matter, but to a starving artist trying to find their way in the world, every dollar counts. You can’t lose. Either you ultimately don’t have to fork any money over, or you become one of the people who made the birth of a new work of literature possible (something you could brag about). 

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.

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>