Still

As of my last post, I have barely even looked at my book. Call it life, but I can't seem to get in the right (or should I say write) mind frame. I'm not sure why, but I feel disconnected from myself. This tends to happen whenever I'm too thrown into any given book, series, or show. I feel as though I am meant for more. But, I know everyone feels like this at some point. It's what is generally referred to as a "rut". But I hate ruts. I never want to be in a rut that a cuppa Starbucks won't solve.

I have much to do. Much. Maybe I'll just go get some coffee, then try just working on my book tonight. I'll let you know how it goes.

Lack of Eloquence

I've been battling a lot with fear. It's a passive aggressive fear that's been slowly eating away at my direction and forward motion. As a writer, no matter what what I'm doing whether it's writing, editing, outlining, brainstorming, or even deleting... I'm moving forward. But as of late, I'm stagnant.

I spend a lot of time working things out in my head before I put them on paper. But this method hasn't really worked for my fear problem yet, and maybe blogging will help.

Every writer thinks he/she is great or has the stuff to make it big. I do, and if I didn't then I wouldn't be trying. I'm a firm believer in the virtue of modesty, but I don't have any problems remembering what that is. I have a harder time remembering self confidence. I have to work hard at what I do. Sometimes, though, when I look at my writing on the screen I wonder if I couldn't have done better when I was in fifth grade. Seriously.

I guess it's not very marketable to whine. Maybe that's why when I look into writers' blogs I don't see them really talking about the hard times. Like the times before they were able to earn a solid paycheck doing what they love... writing.

I struggle for my writing, it has consumed (and will consume) so many of my days. And I want to share that.

There's that book HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU. The whole point to that book is that we are not the exception but the rule. And that works for writing too. J.K. Rowling got tons of rejections before she got a deal. And I'm not supposed to follow that or believe that will happen to me... cause she's the exception, I'm the rule.

Truth is, I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of trying to hold back what I'm going through and keeping a metaphorical smile on my face all the time for the internet. A lot of people use blogging as a tool to spread the word about publishing and writing skills, but there are already a lot of others like that out there. Honesty is probably my most obvious trait, and when it comes to writing, it might be my best. It's about time I used that to express the "writer experience" in a way few others do.

I'm also tired of believing that there are no exceptions. I'm not going to think my work is perfection, in fact, I accept I have so much to learn, but at the same time I'm not ruling out that........ I can be the exception.

Libba Bray, at the end of one of her Gemma Doyle series, references what she calls "The Perpetual Night of the I Suck Abyss". And I love that line. When I write, my days run together, and I have nothing good to say about it, probably because I'm half suffering from the delirium of not sleeping. Work gets done, but I can't wait to start a new piece. But, right now- it's Perpetual Night. And wading through the muck of perfecting a piece and finding an agent is getting tiresome. I'm not giving up, and I'm not complaining...overall it's a great journey. I'm just a little broken down, and I felt like writing about it. Anyone got an Amen to that?

Can I get an Amen?

Where I stand in the World of Georgia

As of late, I joined twitter (my handle is AEWrites, btw). I started doing the tweeting/following/followed thing. It was something that I fought for a while. I have a tendency to fight trends... it took me quite a while to make the switch from Myspace to Facebook, and from Notes to Bloggerdom. But, alas, I've done it. I've been tweeting away merrily and getting to know some very passionate people. (I must admit that I feel a bit like a stalker.)

 Today, I'll share my experiences with one lady in particular: Georgia.

First and foremost, she's a writer. Secondly, she's the one who started the whole #YAlitchat. She also offers editing services. And of course, as writers, we've been warned to take heed of these people, but at her reasonable "fire-starter" package price, I figured it couldn't hurt.  So I dove in, crossed my fingers, and threw caution to the wind.
Here's what I've got to say about what she said. . .

Pain. Suffering. Disappointment. But not in her... but in me. Don't worry, my ego had a quick recovery (:
Georgia cut me to the quick, well, she cut my work to the quick. She said things my test-readers either would not have known to mention or were too nice to say. Yes, it surely stung when she said things like "you lost me here" and "I'm confused about...". This is true.

 But, let's be honest here, while I'd like to throw a pity party for myself and wallow in what Libba Bray calls the "Perpetual Night of the I Suck Abyss"... I won't. I can't.

Q: How would any of that actually help my book be published?

A: It won't!

Instead, it's better that I let someone like Georgia McBride cut it down. And my storyline will flow a lot better. She asked me questions that set me on track and will keep me heading in the right direction. And believe you me, I was convinced that my intro was fairly solid... but she set me straight.

When I wrote her a thank-you for her work, telling her that I was disappointed, but that her work was invaluable, she responded. It was her response that made the most sense to me: better she make these comments than get a rejection from an agent or publisher. Amen, Georgia, amen!

There's this girl...

There's this girl...

Many a great writer has used that as intro to a dialogue set. And seeing as I can't find another way to start this blog, I'm gonna have to use that line. There's this girl, well technically adult, if you go by government terms, that I got to meet today. She did this local short movie called The Saving.

She organized, raised funds, planned, wrote, directed (oh, you get the idea) the whole thing. She's already got tons more stuff in the works. She also managed to find and incorporate some local talent that happen to be friends of mine. This is where I first learned about MJ Slide. I heard her name passed around coffee table conversation, her ideas, her accomplishments... Then I see this film.

And I asked to meet with her because I wanted to know how she did this... How did she make me so utterly intrigued? If I want a good writer's chat I have two options: 1)Beg the one writer I know to find time in his crazybusy schedule for me or 2) go on a long drive out of state. I might have just found an option number 3.


So I sent her a message, (she's very accessible) and asked if I could pick her brain. No questions, she says yes. And we chat. I don't know why I'm so surprised by this, but I'm pretty sure in talking to her, I may have found the cure for any-person's-in-the-entire-world's artist's block. Seriously. She should probably charge. But she doesn't. My mind is blown. All this to say, I have a FB now, a twitter, and a new email account. I am venturing out into the world, and random-new-friend opened the door. Mind. Blown. Cheers.

Update, Rant, and Valuable links

I think it was last week, but it may have been the week before, I realized a completely insane and legal drug... It's called (drumroll please) not sleeping.

As it turns out, when I am (in no uncertain terms) delirious from not sleeping, the logic and oh-I've-got-to-get-all-these-random-errands-taken-care-of part of my brain turns off and all that is left operating is my imagination. Last week, or maybe the week before, I got a total of 9 hours of sleep in those seven days. Right now, I average about 35 hours a week, give or take a few hours. There are a few upsides to this: I write and edit much more productively. However, my spelling and typing abilities take a nose dive. I get more done, not because I have more time, but because I manage to focus. If I'm losing sleep it better be for somewhat justifiable reasons, right?

I say all this to preface how I've gotten so much done. I have finished editing my book, did I tell you I have a book? Well, I do. I started writing it about two years ago before I decided to go back to school. I finished writing it last summer and finished editing it this summer. So now I'm down to the synopsis... which is a 3-5 page summary of my book. Yuck. (I have already completed the query, thankyouverymuch.)

This synopsis is killing me. Why? Because, last summer after I'd completed my book, I started querying. I got a request for a partial... and a synopsis. I STILL haven't sent it in. I really want to shoot myself in the foot right now for not realizing how much school would get in the way of getting this submission in. Feel free to harrass me for my moronic error. Here's some good advice, don't query till you've got a synopsis. And, when the advice columns tell you to leave your writing alone so that you'll have fresh eyes to evaluate it, they are TELLING THE TRUTH! (I cringe to think what would have happen had I not done that!)

Even though this is just a plain old rant and update. I do also want to share some great blogs that I wish more people would read because that would keep a lot of people from pissing off agents that I'm querying.

http://slushpilehell.tumblr.com/
Hilarious. Also makes me kind of sad for agents.



http://queryshark.blogspot.com/
Doesn't try and be nice. Straightforward. Listen to it.



http://bookendslitagency.blogspot.com/
I just happen to really like this blog, it's a mixture of good advice, blogger interaction, life-as-an-agent-type entries. And, it is updated regularly!

Joy in the Small Things...

A Path Less Trodden

I have this fleeting feeling that I am not on the same page as everyone else. I have a tendency to think that this is a bad thing....an awful thing....a thing to loath in myself.
The funny thing is, this is a road that divides. If I am on the same page as everyone else, then I can be classified as mainstream or a sellout or any number of other radical terminology that signifies my deviation from purity as an artist. If, however, I am on a different page, a self declared page of my very own, I face the ridicule of those who have no desire to move outside the comfort of their own box, their own understanding, and their own lives.

What dangerous paths these are! I hate them both!

So, looking as the options, it seems by choice would be easy, right? Why do I care who ridicules me? Why do I care what other people say?

It's an important lesson to learn. A very important lesson.

PRIDE.
Definition: a high or inordinate opinion of one's own dignity, importance, merit, or superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in bearing, conduct, etc.

It's not my pride that I speak of... no, it's my hatred of it. I once had a year long battle with pride and many misunderstandings about myself and others. The answer to the question is not really about pride at all. I care what others say, not because of the words themselves, but because the meaning that is behind them saying it. If someone is so upset by selling out that they care enough to voice these concerns to me (no matter how harsh they seem to come out), then perhaps what they are getting at is that they don't want me to lose my sense of self or that flame that made me love artistry to begin with. My pride would get in the way of hearing the truth in what they mean to say.

As for the other side of things, lately I've had a much lower level of patience for those that wish me to be on the same page. It has partly to do with my willingness to step out of my own box and accept things as they are. Because, I can't learn anything when I'm blinded by pride.

Obviously, if you read this blog closely enough, you may pick up on a little residual frustration. I am tired of trying to be on the same page, and I'm flirting dangerously with a line of regret. 

I choose to find some other path. Neither of these dangerous paths suit me. And instead of trying to brave the two forks that lead me in different directions. I'll choose my own. I see another path, not a road or a well-worn foot trail... just another way to get me through the day that keeps me from having to aggravate or be bothered by any of the travelers on either of these roads.


"A proud man is always looking down on things and people; and, of course, as long as you're looking down, you can't see something that's above you." - C.S. Lewis