Alexia's Favorite Perk to being an Author!

 Publishing is a strange, strange occupation…at least from my POV coming from the medical field. It’s time tables are opaque and responses from people lag for months until suddenly something is needed yesterday. 

It’s easy to pick out the dislikes in the book making biz, as it is with everything. But I like to focus on the good stuff—the highlights! 

My number one fave of being an author:

Being blessed to be included in some wonderful groups of authors!

This picture are my 2018 Golden Heart sisters, the Persisters. Having a group of writers that, no matter which publishing path they were taking, were starting out at about the same place was invaluable. Having these fabulous women, and the women I met through my Golden Heart experience, is definitely the best part of being an author and I hope that each and every one of you find a like-minded group to feel at home with. 

My next fave is being able to work from home and have this guy around all the time. 

Ullr the husky pup

Writing's a lonely gig! You're in your own head, you need no to minimal interruptions, quiet places rule, and all communication is done through email. It's easy to loose connections, which is maybe why authors are so fond of their pets. And I gotta say, I'm awfully fond of Ullr—even when he's a knucklehead and whining to go outside to chase squirrels. 

What are your best and worst aspects of being an author?

When things Don’t Work out the way You wanted them to

Life is like a broken butter dish, you never know—wait, wrong line. But I did crush my butter dish and I don’t know what I’m gonna get to replace it. 

Cracked, broken, disappointments. There’s a million sayings about failing: When the going gets tough, the tough get going. Failure is part of success. Think positively and positive things will happen. Hang in there, baby. 

And since we’re all human here—apologies if you’re reading this, ART—we’ve experienced things not going to plan in countless ways. Butter dish, am I right? Though that’s not the only disappointment on my mind this week, I’m also obsessing over how I keep failing to get any writing done. 

So, authors, how do we deal with disappointments in regards to writing?

The past couple of weeks have been challenging for me health wise. It’s difficult to look at screens or even move quickly when your head isn’t on straight, literally. I’m becoming a regular at the chiropractor’s office and I’m running out of audiobooks (that’s my SOS for any audiobook recommendations you may have). And I’m still struggling to get any words down! 

Then I saw a fellow author’s post on Instagram about setting goals for the week, big or small…that you intend to celebrate! These wise words are from @ChandraBlumberg if you’re wondering, she’s positive, uplifting, and has a bright smile. Go follow her. 

Her words were a simple reminder that struck me. I prefer to start my days off with a little yoga and prayer and meditation time before I even come down the stairs. No, it doesn’t always happen because I have a dog that snores and kids that sleepwalk, but I feel better and happier when I start my day off that way. Now, why can’t I translate that to my writing? Why do I only see the pieces that don’t go according to plan and not the celebratory parts?

In 2018 one of my manuscripts was a finalist in the Golden Heart and this national award put me with a group of likeminded writers. We chose our class name: Persisters because we were a bunch of women who would persist in their dreams to write. I’m thankful for each one of these women and wish I had more time to talk with them, but even the bits of check-ins here and there are a boost. They remind me that we all have struggles, writing related and not. They remind me that I want to keep going because they’re proof that hard work does pay off. And they remind me that they’re here for me to unload, writing related or not. 

For me, that’s something that I need to be able to keep writing. Things don't always go according to plan‚ and that’s okay! Yes, this is what happens when the topic is what's on my mind...you get to ramble along with me. 

It's okay because I need my Persisters and fellow authors on Instagram to remind me that I’m not alone in this. I’m going to make a conscious effort to celebrate a little thing, writing related, each morning. I’ll take stock of my to-do list and set an attainable goal that won’t stress me out. And I’m going to keep cheering on everyone else because you never know when a kind word or a bit of encouragement will make all the difference. 

Have you found your writing community and surrounded yourself with those who want to lift you up? 

Elation to Damnation

Ullr's elation face

  The easiest scene I ever wrote and why? 

I could go one of two ways with this one…so which way do I want to go. The easiest way I guess! 

The easiest scene I’ve ever written was the very first scene I ever wrote in the first book I ever wrote, the book that went on to earn me the national recognition of a Golden Heart.

If you don’t know, I started writing because after seeing me come home with armloads of books one too many times my husband told me to write one. And I seriously though about it decided I wanted to write a book that I could put on the shelves in the treatment rooms of the cancer centers where I worked. I wanted to give the gift of escape to my patients. 

But how do you start writing a novel? I knew how to read them—I was really really good at that. But actually writing a book was HUGE and I was at a loss. 

Then I had a dream. 

In my dream I was a young woman—yeah yeah not much of a stretch there but hey, start with the familiar—who had left her lover sleeping in their cabin and was in search of breakfast. I love food, even my subconscious loves food. 

My shoulders tighten as I walk. I know I shouldn’t wander out of my cabin—I haven't been safe since the night—but that only fuels my need to get out, even for a moment. The weight of my skirts are heavy against my legs, holding me back. I press my palms against the silky fabric, steeling myself, and continue on.

I follow the gilded handrail to the dining saloon, or perhaps it's the warm aroma of croissants and coffee that draws me there. I peer through the open door and my stomach cramps at the first sight of a pastry basket on an open table. Without a second thought I breeze inside without a glance at the room's occupants.

After the waitress pours my tea I look up and met the gaze of the man seated a table over. He absently nods and turns back to his discussion with the white-haired gentleman next to him…a man in uniform, a uniform that matched his highly decorated one.

My face goes numb and a chill spreads down my body. I glance around the room—at all the nearly filled tables—and my chest squeezes. I know who they are, and they're here to kill me. 

I sit frozen, waiting for them to recognize me, to jump up and point and scream my direction. But of all the soldiers conversing and eating around me...no one notices me. 

No one notices me. 

A heady rush fills me and lightens my limbs. I almost laugh out loud. I'm safe. I could get up, walk out of the dining saloon, and disappear. I'm more than safe, I'm free.

My heart rips in two and painfully exhale, "Hawkin—" 

I’ve left him sleeping in my bed...and our friends in the next room. What kind of a person am I that I could think to walk away? That I could leave them to die? 

A voice in my head whispers of freedom, telling me how easy it would be to stand up and leave it all behind, to never be hunted again. My breath fill my ears.

But is being safe worth the nightmares? My hand fists on the white table cloth. 

I half stand, and drop my handkerchief near the general. He notices—as I intended—and retrieves it for me. I give him a warm and demure smile of thanks, a mask that he believes. Then, I accept his invitation, since no lady should dine alone, and seat myself next to my enemy.

Yes I’ve written this scene before, yes I’ve even rewritten this scene a handful of times—the first time I wrote this was 8 years ago—and yes I’ve since written better ones for other books. But this version is as I recall experiencing it and I typed it out in under five minutes because it’s still the easiest scene I’ve ever written. 

The why is actually very simple. I experienced this scene by smelling it, breathing it, and touching it. So, putting it to paper comes naturally and even though it’s gone through a few revisions—steampunk aspects removed, a little magic added, some secondary character tweaks, and added clarity for my main character—the heart of the scene remains the same. 

This scene’s about being trapped in a cage only to find out you have a clear path to freedom…but that choice means having to leave something you love behind and you have to grapple with that reality before you can decide which direction you’re going to go. 

Elation to damnation. 

Alright, your turn. Do emotions drive your scenes? What about your easiest scene, was it driven by circumstances or the character?