Revision List

 I’m behind. Again. We’re talking about revision. I believe I’ve mentioned it before, but revision is my favorite part of writing. I think I’ve also mentioned that how I come at revision is in the word itself. Re-vision. Once a draft is done, the revision process is my opportunity (and obligation) to look at the story with new eyes.

As I finish a draft, I keep a revision list. Once I type The End, I pack the WIP up, and I put it away for at least two weeks. I, too, am an intuitive writer. I feel my way through a story. Most of the time, that works really well, and revision is a minor affair. Most stories simply need a little tidy up. Most of my revision job is working through my list, tightening, calling myself out on my own BS – repeated words, gestures, over describing or over staging. I ensure that character arcs are fully realized. I make sure the plot holds together and drives from one end of the story to the other. Most of the time, my revision process is mostly about pruning to expose the trunk of the plot to air and light.

Then there are stories that need more. I’m working on a manuscript right now. This story needed to sit for years. I love the story. My beta readers like the story, too, and remember it even after all the time it needed to sit. It had to sit because all of us agreed that the story was flawed. Jeffe kindly read the story for me to help me identify the issues and she couldn’t finish the book. That confirmed for me that I had a major structural problem that I couldn’t diagnose. So, I shelved that story. I needed time and space before I tried to understand the issues.

It paid off. At least, I think it did. When I came back to the story and read it again, my story sense went off, immediately. The main character had no arc. She wasn’t driving the latter half of her story. That’s a pretty major issue. It required a serious rewrite of the second half of the book. That’s still in progress as a wrestle with the climax of the story and layer in ALL THE THINGS. This is the part of the book I really want to get right so it’s taking a frustrating amount of time while I obsess over it. I hope it pays off.

The biggest issue for me is that every story needs something different from a revision standpoint. I mean, the initial prerequisite is a finished draft. After that, though, each story dictates how I approach ripping and tearing at the guts. Some surgeries are less involved than others. Some are great big Frankenstein’s monster stitch jobs. And even then, I prefer revision to drafting. I probably need to be medicated for that.

To the Bitter End

Since I have yet to actually complete a series, my experience has been that a series ends because a publisher declines further stories in said series. As a reader, though, I've read my way through many a series that never really got old. Then there were the ones that I got part way into, poked my head up, looked around, and said, "Y'know, life's too short for this nonsense." and that was the end of that series. I suspect we all have benchmarks past which we're unwilling to read. Even if you're too young to have seen the shark jumping scene on TV - you KNOW what it means when someone says a series has jumped the shark. Book series can do the same thing - an author tries too hard to keep upping the anty in each subsequent book until they stomp across the reader's willing suspension of disbelief line. That, to me as a reader, is how I know a series has peaked. 

Now how to I learn something from it as a writer? I'd like to think I've learned that no series of mine should ever have an open-ended number of books. Never, never, never. To my eye, that way lies far too many dangers. Planning a series arc is the only sure way to keep from venturing into shark infested plot waters. Each of my series to date is a limited run with a specific beginning point and ending point. I'd like, someday, to get to finish a series. . . I swear one is within sight. 

I want to acknowledge, however, that just because I will DNF a series that exceeds my muttered 'oh come on' limit - it doesn't mean there aren't other readers out there in the world feasting on that entire series. It pays to remember that when a publisher tells you they won't keep publishing your series - if your story isn't done and, like me, you really want to complete the arc of the series, you don't have to listen to the voices that tell you to just let it go. You can write your complete series arc, tuck it away, and then, when your rights revert, presto. Series. It helps if you know you have readers who are waiting for the rest of the story, but you're also allowed to write it just for your own satisfaction. Who knows. Maybe it will be a case of if you write it readers will come. Either way. Not everything in life has to have a return on investment. 

Still. The only thing I know is that I really don't want to write a series that jumps the shark. But it may be necessary. Just so I know where that darned shark is lurking.

Where I've Been and Tools of the Trade

 I bet you thought I'd forgotten the blog again today. Or blown it off. It's been an intense two weeks. Let me show you what I've been up to (via some pixelated, crappy cell phone photos.)

I've been on the road for the past two weeks to Austin, Texas and back again to chase the eclipse. It was epic. The trip back was fraught with seriously rough weather, slow slogs in the freeways in rain so heavy you couldn't see, and constant emergency alerts firing on the cell phones for flood alerts and tornado warnings (three were verified on the ground.) We got to see an amazing celestial event and lived to tell the tale. 

As to what I use to write: Almost exclusively MS Word - it's familiar, it's versatile, and it's so easily converted to different file types. In the cracks of the caveat I supplied, I turn to simple little low-feature drafting tools from time to time like Omm Writer, Dark Room, or 4theWords. Those are for the days I want no distractions - they're about shutting out the rest of the computer screen and silencing notifications. They're for fast drafting when you don't want to let editor mind engage. There's rudimentary spell checking if there's anything at all.

They all import plain text into Word in a hyper-ugly font but that's fine because there's zilch formatting and Word happily goes about putting squiggly red and blue lines under everything I've mistyped or misspelled or grammatically hacked up. I like to think of Word as the program for the professional author and the other programs for the little kid artist who's trying out bits of story.

Back to the eclipse: We joined a Sky and Telescope Magazine group in the Austin area that had arranged hotel, meals, and the viewing location (private! with security!) We were in the company of 230 astronomy geeks, scientists, astrophysicists, and on eclipse day, one astronaut. We were surrounded by telescopes and massive cameras. All we had were viewing glasses and our cell phones (also with filters applied to them). We really lucked out with the weather.

If you're interested in catching your own eclipse experience, the next one is in Spain (through Sky and Telescope) in 2026. After that, Egypt in 2027, then Australia in 2028. Totality for this eclipse lasted just over 4 minutes. It was the shortest 4 minutes of my life.

On my mind: reading older books

 

My To Be Read pile is on my mind. It’s gotten so big that I get choice paralysis when I’m trying to pick a book to read next. I decided to try to prioritize working in books that were published a multiple of ten years ago.

Why? As a reader, it’s easy to get caught up in the constant new release cycle. Physical bookstores have limited capacity, and they want to move books as fast as possible. The best way for them to do this is to stock new books as they come out (which I’m less likely to have bought already) and bestsellers. I often have difficulty finding a book that’s new-to-me on the shelves that’s more than a few years old at a bookstore that only sells new books. Additionally, marketing algorithms prioritize new books (again, because I’m less likely to have read them) when I’m browsing the web.

So I’m making an effort to find and read older books that I didn’t know about. I’m not much for nostalgia, but I am interested in what novels looked like ten, twenty, thirty years ago. I want to know what’s changed in writing conventions and what I can learn from that.

So far this year, I’ve read The Charmed Sphere (2004) by Catherine Asaro, and Undercity (2014), also by Asaro. They are very different books: different genre, different point-of-view, different issues tackled, and I’m glad I read both of them. Next up is Joan Vinge's World's End, published in 1984.

If anyone wants to join me in this activity but doesn't know where to start, ten-year-old books by authors on this blog include The Tears of the Rose by Jeffe Kennedy and Nightmare Ink by Marcella Burnard. 

Author Websites

The first hurdle an author has to clear in terms of a website is the fear of being perceived. Don't laugh. It's a whole thing. We've lived most of our lives not being seen or attracting attention to ourselves. It's a bullshit cultural feature of patriarchy. It's pretty ingrained in most female presenting folks to NOT draw attention. Fortunately, an author website, hosted by a professional data center, offers you any number of layers for protecting yourself while promoting your writing. 

The second hurdle is getting past feeling like the website has to be utterly and completely perfect for ever and ever. Literally, the only thing your website needs to do is identify you and your books. It's a communication tool and a landing spot for anyone curious about what you write. The most likely scenario for someone visiting your website is that someone found one of your books and they want to look you up to see what else you have. You can make it as fancy and as involved as you like, but don't think you need fancy for your site to succeed. Your only goal is to create a welcoming place for readers to find out more about your writing and books.

DO:

• Design a site that reflects you. Not just your first book. Or your second. 
• List and describe all your books.
• Include multiple buy links.
• Keep the site up to date with new releases and buy links.

DON'T

• Offer any information that could be used to locate you physically.
• Think you have to build a site all by yourself. You can and should hire out the site unless you're trained or a total control freak. (And then, I'll ask if your time could be more profitably used by writing rather than coding a website.)
• Force yourself to add something to your website that makes you uncomfortable. You won't find a link to a newsletter on my website anymore because my god I hate sending newsletters. Hates it. So I stopped. And Mail Chimp fired me as a customer. So.  

Websites are necessary and help you welcome readers to your work. In a perfect world, the design of the website will reflect your writing persona to some extent. At the end of the day, though, there's no need to spend a ton of money. The fancier the website, the more expensive and time consuming it will be to maintain.  Keeping it Simple Silly has its benefits.

Tropey Tropes

In all honesty, I don't think much about tropes. Not consciously, anyway. Clearly, though, they're tucked up in the subconscious, because they emerge in writing anyway. If I think about what ends up in my writing, it's always the same stuff:

• Found family
• Finding or making one's own place in the world
• Enemies to lovers
• Cheating the rules/authority/establishment

The things you won't see from me if I can help it are the same things Jeffe mentioned - damaging, misogynistic, racist, homophobic, transphobic, writer punching down or laterally in any way. Not here for it. Bully trope? Only if they get taken down hard. Even then, the take down needs to happen in the first quarter of the book so the rest of the story can be that bully's redemption tour. Otherwise, I'm out. You wanna kill off family or besties or beloveds in order to motivate a character? I'm going to cringe because it's lazy and it makes a character super suspect in my mind because if someone has to die before the character will move their asses to do what's right, they're either stupid or terrible people. Yes. I'm being judgy. Stuff went down this week and I'm in a MOOD. I'm not saying you can't kill people off in books. I'm in trouble if we can't. But as a driver for a hero or heroine? Yikes. So anyway. Come at me with the torches and pitchforks. Tell me I'm being a small-minded pain in the backside. 

When Conventions are Worth It

 I haven’t been to a book convention in – a long time. A looooong time. However. I do have a history with cons of all kinds, and so, while I might not be especially qualified to talk about whether book cons are worth it, I do have thoughts.

IMO, a con is worth it if:

You enjoy the premise of the con as a fan. You won’t be making the money you spent on attending the convention. Make sure you’re parting with your hard-earned dollars for a good reason – that being that you are engaging in an experience that brings you joy (outside of selling books).

You’re nominated for an award. Even then, I’m on the fence about this one these days. So many awards are problematic enough to include a cringe factor to them. This one must be a personal call. Am I relieved and grateful that the award nominations I once had were before the industry had its eyes unwillingly opened to the mounting issues? Heck yes.

You’re looking for an agent or you’re shopping a manuscript AND you can get pitch appointments. Pitch appointments, especially with editors for houses you’re targeting, are an amazing source of submission invites. I favor smaller, more local events where there aren’t 10k of my nearest and dearest vying for the same appointments. Getting in front of editors and agents is absolutely worth the time and trouble. Get a chance to put ‘Requested Material’ on a submission just once and see if you don’t agree.

You’re into meeting other authors, book lovers, and assorted weirdos. The breadth and depth of humanity is usually represented at a conference. If you enjoy striking up conversations with strangers about shared interests – cons are for you.

You’re using the con as a mini writer’s retreat, to recharge batteries, or to remember who you are outside of the roles and expectations of the rest of your life. Sometimes, a con is just a good excuse to get away so you don’t have to threaten the very next person who won’t leave you alone for five minutes while you pee, for the love of pete.

Cons are not worth it if:

You expect a return on investment. This is not why we con. At least, not why 98% con.

You’re expecting a miracle – like an agent begging to rep you or an editor begging to buy your book on the spot, you will be disappointed. If you’re signing and expecting to see lines out the door, you probably will see that. For someone else. At least initially.

You’re immunocompromised or live with someone who is. Fact of our lives, now, I’m afraid. Anyplace a large group of people are gathered indoors is a super spreader event. It might be Covid. It might be flu. It might be RSV. It might be measles. It might be TB. It might be the common cold. I hate it with every fiber of my being but every con now requires a fully informed, individual risk assessment.

Will I go to a con again? Yes. Comicon is still my happy place and I'd really like to get to one of the big SFWA cons at some point. Darn day job, tho. 

Journey to Believable Scenes

Love scenes in novels aren't made believable within the confines of that single scene. Usually. Certainly writers can do plenty within the scene to kill the mood or break a reader's willing suspension of disbelief. In my opinion (and subsequently, in my craft practice) love scenes are made believable by virtue of the journey that led up to the sex scene. If a story goes straight for the sexy times right from the outset, then the journey has to be implied within the context of the scene.

It's no secret I like smart heroines. It may, therefore, be no surprise that in order for me to believe my heroines would hop in the sack with someone, I need to believe that decision would make sense from within that heroine's point of view. This is why I need a journey to a love scene. That journey is a series of small vignettes that put pins on a map taking my characters from strangers, even opponents, to trust. No. Not to lovers. To trust. Lovers comes after trust has been established in my books. No trust, no nooky. Of course there are heroines who would hop in bed with someone they don't trust. If that's going to happen, however, I, as a reader, need to understand her motivation for it. Is this a trauma response? People pleasing at enormous cost to herself? A rebellious move? A revenge screw? I can buy a lot but I need to comprehend why someone is willing to put themselves into the most vulnerable of positions with an unknown quantity. I suspect, in this post Me, Too era, when few of us are privileged enough to get to ignore just how dangerous simply existing can be for female presenting people, most of us need to get inside someone's head when they're going to engage in (perhaps fatally) risky behavior.

BUT. This isn't a murder mystery so we're not hiding corpses yet. We're still trying to get folks between the sheets.

The path from Hello to the bedroom (or wherever) is sign posted by the scenes where the first sparks of attraction fly, and in the scenes of discovery - these are the ones where characters are learning about one another and are finding the good and admirable - and in the scenes where the learning about one another starts paying off because they aren't just talking at one another anymore. They're communicating. Mostly. Coming to understanding. If I'm doing my job, somewhere in those scenes, my characters aren't just melting one another's hearts - they're melting the reader's as well. IF that happens, the love scene will likely be believable.

Barring my attempts to do something anatomically impossible, but that's another day's rant.

Where's the Money - Alternative Author Income

Girl cat in a sunny spot for tax because this will be a short blog post. 

In order to diversify one's money-making schemes as an author, one must first be making money as an author. 

Making money as an author. Haha. Who told you I make money as an author? Perhaps I did at one time. Currently, the cash comes in the door because I picked up a gig as a technical writer. Boring af but it pays the bills. Other than that, all of my effort goes toward trying to get a book written, edited, and out the door in the fragments of time outside of the day job and the demands of family. 

Plenty of people in the writing world have made fantastic alternate income streams for themselves. I pay for some of the services offered via those streams. But honestly. I'd like to get back in the swing of being an author and maybe being paid a little bit before contemplating other business opportunities. Maybe I lack imagination, but I do feel like I might ought to nail the titular entrepreneurship effort first.

Change

None of us lives in stasis. We change moment to moment, day to day. Writing does, too. Sometimes for the better. Sometimes not. When my first novel was published, I imagined I'd found the magic and that I'd just freeze in place and keep doing what had worked that first time. As if it were possible. Which, of course, it wasn't. Even if I hadn't changed from one book to the next, the story I was telling did change and demanded something different of me. I struggled with that. Still do some days. 

The first book was action-packed. It had a lot of white space. Description and narrative were spare. Subsequent books have swung too far the other direction for my taste. So I'm working on that. While at the same time working on showing and inviting the reader into the emotional hits and . . . 

Yes, my writing has changed. I'd like to think that what I write and how I write it is an ongoing journey of transformation. I don't know if or when my writing will emerge from its cocoon or what the wing pattern will look like. But in the meantime, I'm going to keep working on change and on painting those wings.

Bringing the Fun - Hobbies

Everyone on earth should have something they do just because they like doing it. Y'know. Within the bounds of legality and not harming others. I suspect most writers started out writing simply because they liked doing it. We write for ourselves first, then one day, it crosses our minds to write for an audience and on that day, something fundamentally shifts. No matter how much we talk about writing books or stories of our hearts, once we've committed to the thought of showing our work to someone else, we're no longer strictly writing to please ourselves. Even if we want to. Every whisper or overheard conversation about The Market is looking over our shoulders. It isn't to say that writing can't still be fun - it can. Fun, edifying, and engaging. But. There's also a weight that's been added to it, a pressure to perform, to be good enough. That weight, pressure, and subtle (or not) fear take a little extra helping of cognitive and emotional energy to sustain.

That's why is so vital to have other outlets that don't carry that charge of weight or pressure or fear. We still need to pursue some creative thing that isn't for anyone else. We need the freedom to be bad at something - not because it's fun to be bad at something but because there's space and joy and light around doing something that no one else cares about, where we aren't being badgered to turn fun into a side hustle of some kind. There's grace in getting to just enjoy something without succumbing to the drive of constant improvement. Hey. This is for fun. If I learn something and enjoy what I'm doing? Great. If I just have fun with what I'm doing and never learn another thing? That's great, too. Though, to be fair, it's legit to *try* turning a hobby into a side hustle and then noping out. Been there. Did that with cooking. Catered two big events, got rave reviews, took a look around and went 'oh, hell no' and went straight back to being a cooking hobbyist because yeesh. 

These days, I make random things from cardboard. Cat forts. A spirit house in very early stages. There's a massive stack of huge cardboard boxes on the back lanai waiting for me to build a kitty castle. When my box knife comes out of hiding, that project will get underway. At this point, I may have to go buy a box knife cause it's been a minute since I've seen the last one. 

I still cook. I like finding new recipes and trying dishes I haven't had before. It's taken a turn since I went whole food plant based vegan a few years ago. I had to learn a whole new set of cooking skills that upended a bunch of the conventional wisdom I'd been taught about cooking. It's a good time getting to try a new technique and new flavors. Sometimes I win. Sometimes I have to throw stuff away - not often, mind, but it does happen when I totally misjudge a recipe.

There's also gardening. I do enjoy getting out into the yard to work in the soil and create an oasis for my pollinators. It's a hobby both Mom and I enjoy, so it's a communal activity and the bonus is getting to work in cooperation with someone I value. And hey. Flowers. What's not to like?

Building Skills

 

This creative development question is my topic. It came to me because years ago, a friend who is now a very successful author decided to write her second book. She sat up in our local writer's meeting and said, "I want to make readers cry. I'm going to try to write a book that makes 'em cry." It stuck with me. She's continued with having a goal for each book - something that stretches her skills and at the time, I was envious of and intimidated by the conscious decision to attempt something like that. What if you failed? I've since gotten over that fear of failure silliness. New skills are new skills whether you execute them perfectly the first time or not. In the spirit of 'what doesn't kill me makes me stronger' nothing new that's attempted is ever wasted.

At the moment, however, I have only one goal. Recover from burn out and finish the book I'm working on so I can write the book that was due a few years ago. My goals for books are currently in a really simplistic place. I want to tell a competent, compelling story. I'll worry about technique after. I need the story to feel right before I can fuss with heightening whatever skill I stumbled on accidentally -  which is what usually happens. As an example, the book I'm currently working on requires that I learn how to handle a little bit of horror technique. I have no clue whether I'm doing it correctly. That will be for readers to decide. I'm *trying*. But it wasn't a conscious decision. It was simply what this story needed. It's the story that intrigued me enough to write and as I wrote it, the story revealed to me that it needed a reasonably high creep factor. This was a skill I did not (and to this day, may or may not) possess. But yes. I sought out a class. A couple, in fact. 

My next book requires me to tackle a theme that isn't entirely my forte. We've been eyeing one another, that theme and I. There's been research and some free writing around the associations and emotional loads. Now lets see if it will mature into a plot that won't bore readers to death. If I don't stick the landing, so what? I'll still have learned something that I'll carry forward into the next story. And the next.

As a part of the recovery process, I'm doing my best to keep writing as nourishing as possible. Some days that means fun. Some days that means challenging. Some days it means trying things I've never done before - with the awareness that such experimentation might not end up being ready for anyone else's eyes. That's okay. I look at it as building strength. It's also a useful way to break up writerly monotony. Experiment builds upon experiment, and eventually, there a new skill is likely to emerge.

Planning for specific skills for each book? No. Not yet. I'm not there yet. I aspire to be. Working on it. For right now, the stories lead the way. What they want, I attempt to deliver. Succeed or fail, I at least give it my best shot and trust I'm learning from the process. I expect that at some point, I'll learn enough that I'll be able to declare an objective like "I want to make them cry!" and be able to rise to the challenge. But for today, finishing is good enough.

Pick Your Size Well Refilling

Refilling the creative well is like drink sizes at one of those massive gas station / truck-stop arrangements. You can get the kiddie cup, something approaching medium, or the ridiculous, last-for-days and have-to-pee-every-hour grand gesture hydration solutions. Filling the creative well comes in all those sizes, too. If it doesn’t for you, I argue it should.

Kiddie cups: These little sips are daily practices. Work out, maybe. Meditation. Breathing exercises. Yoga nidra/NSDR. That twenty minutes after work and before the dinner rush wherein you sneak- read a few pages of a book. Journaling. Singing when you’re alone in the car. Spending ten minutes outside in the early morning sunshine admiring the trees and plants and flowers. The daily kiddie cups may be small, but they keep the well topped up and the workings clear of debris. There’s a saying among hikers: It’s the water in your body that keeps you alive, not the water in your canteen. Refilling the creative well feels very much the same. In the throes of stressful daily live, whether there’s a deadline or other pressures, most of us can’t afford anything more than a few short, stolen moments to pour a few ounces back into ourselves. A few ounces at a time won’t keep us topped up, but they will sure slow the draw down.

Medium-ish: These rehydration investments are bigger investments, whether in time, effort, or cash. A class. An entire day alone with no one else setting the agenda. A solo trip to an art gallery or a museum or a bookstore. A day of enjoyable outdoor activities. Sailing, hiking, biking, exploring, whatever. It can be short writing retreats or a local conference. The point of the medium-ish creative well refill project is to tip a lot more into the well to bring the levels markedly up. If you’ve watched any ancient Egyptian archeology shows in the past decade, picture the Nile measuring systems the Egyptians built to keep track of flooding. They knew that if the Nile floods didn’t hit a certain height, it meant famine and they could plan. We’re using our medium drinks to bring up the level of the Nile. We don’t want creative famine. So, we need a cadence of regular pours to inch that level back up above the uh oh mark.

Grand gesture: These are huge, major investments in well refilling. They’re great emergency measures akin to getting an IV in the ED. The grand gesture can be life and soul saving after major burn out. Everyone’s grand gestures will look different. It could be a major conference (San Diego Comicon, DragonCon, etc.) It could be a longer-term writing retreat or even an artist-in-residence situation. The grand gesture is meant to be a big adventure, preferably undertaken solo. You shouldn’t have to share your Big Gulp. Not when you need it. It’s supposed to shake you up. It’s supposed to be faintly scary. Refilling the well like this should feel a little wild and uncontrollable as if you might be swept out to sea by the force of the flood. I mean, okay. My analogies are breaking down and getting tangled up. In my case, it was a ten-day trip to Ireland. Ten days of beginner mind because everything was new and bright and shiny and well-filling. Your grand gesture may, like mine, be a once in a lifetime event. That’s fine. I just hold that everyone trying to refill a creative well should indulge in a grand gesture at least once in life, understanding that grand gestures may need to be scaled to accommodate budgets, schedules, and envious spouses.

 

So Turns the Wheel of the Year

 

In the liminal space between this end of year cluster of holidays, I wish you the warmth and relaxation and coziness of Arya nesting in my lap. May the new year be bright, prosperous, healthy, and joyous. I have no great advice to give or pronouncements to make. May we all become the best versions of ourselves as we move into another cycle.

Winter Solstice What's on My Mind

Blessed Winter Solstice. On my mind today - Time. 

Time in all its complexity and in its simplicity. We brought in a tea advent calendar from Friday Tea in Seattle. We're counting down to Christmas with a different tea each day. We also brought in a wooden puzzle advent calendar. These simple time keepers were an attempt to handle one of our more complicated time issues - family.

My father received news from his doctor this year that no one wants to receive from a doctor. We're all aware that as we count down to Christmas this year, we're also counting down how many more Christmases we'll have together. It's a fact of life, of course, but no one has to like it, and we don't. So we're focused on connection, on creating moments for slowing down, for pausing and looking around. We're concentrated on creating enjoyment. The puzzle has been a surprisingly good way to do all of that. Dad isn't fond of the holidays to begin with, so we were pleasantly surprised when he opted to engage with the puzzle advent calendar with us. Well timed batches of holiday cookies have helped a little, too.

I'm making some of my family's favorite things to eat, of course. The holidays are time for me to try new recipes simply because I enjoy experimenting. I'm contemplating how to create more time and space in my life for my dreams and my ambitions. During this solstice season, I'm pausing, taking a full, deep breath and holding it in the depths of the dark while I look around with eyes not clouded by my breath in the cold night. Solstice night is the time to leave behind the parts of me that no longer serves me. Time to strike the match and light the midwinter fire. This is the doorway out of shadow into light.

It's time to realize that our lives are advent calendars counting down the clock of our existence. What matters to us can no longer wait. 

Websites as Crutches

For the most part, I aspire to keep away from distractions. However, I find that good ambient sound works well for creating a cone of privacy around me while I'm writing. Especially when there are noise cancelling headphones involved. Therefore, I usually have YouTube up in the background. I'll run 3+ hour dark scifi, dystopian, or horror ambient tracks. I have specific needs for those - they need to run long and not allow ads. They can't have a ton of melodic line. These things are more a vibe than they are music, and they're just enough to keep my critical brain busy and out of the way of drafting while they also provide cover for the other noises of the household.

I'm a big fan of Wordhippo.com for word finding. My rule for this is that I must open and close the browser window for every single look up. It's an attempt to keep me from sheering off of making words with rando look ups. Some days, I don't open the site at all. Other days, I may need a little mental jog or two. Those days, I need to find just the right word before I can unclench and move on.

My final favorite website while writing is a website for writing. Consider this my ongoing plug for 4theWords.com. Timed writing, gamified, stripped down to a basic text editor so I can't get too precious about how stuff looks while trying to get x amount of words before time runs out. It's a great place to fast draft and a great place to write about writing. It's a perfect venue for doing a bunch of the prework of writing - compiling research / noodling how that research impacts plot and characters, getting characters hashed out, getting GMCs worked through, etc. I'm on the site every single day.

Once I have a draft, no matter how skeletal and bloody, I shift out of websites into Word. Edits and rewrites happen with fewer website interruptions. By the time I'm in edits, I pretty much know where we're going and how we're going to get there. I no longer need to anesthetize the critical portions of my brain like I do with drafting.  Until that point, though, websites are my crutches, and I lean on 'em.

Path Out of Stuck

Take it from someone who walked face first into stuck (that was really a kind of burnout I didn't know I had) and then flailed there for a very long time: There's a difference between stuck and burnout. You need to know the difference.

Stuck is frustrating. Stuck is scary. Stuck still has hope of breaking free. Stuck usually means something is wrong with the story somewhere (and that's fixable.)

Burnout is paralyzed. Burnout is numb. Burnout says 'I can't'. Burnout usually means something is wrong in your environment or possibly in your physiology. 

Burnout needs recovery time and effort and may require professional assistance either from a coach, a therapist, or a doctor. Stuck needs a little strategic psychology to pull you free of the mire and can usually be resolved within a few weeks. Burnout can take months or even years. 

Whether you're in burnout or whether you're stuck, the antidote for the poison is the same: So long as you say 'I can't', you won't. The only way out of stuck and out of burnout (eventually) is to begin asking 'how can I?' Example: Going from 'I can't make this work.' to 'How can I make this work?' It's not magic and it's not immediate. You have to ask the question and ask the question and ask the question. Then you have to sit and listen. Free write around it with no rules. Stream of consciousness write around 'how could I make writing work?' 'What would it look like to make writing work again?' 'What do I need in order to write again?' Just keep asking and keep noodling. Initially, the answers will all be I don't know. Then, one day, you'll get an outlandish, crazy idea. Mine was to get some plywood up into the attic and laying it down across the rafters so I could get a desk and plug up there as well as a little damned peace and quiet and solitude for writing. Living in Florida where attics are regularly a bajillion degrees made the idea unusable but it did start a protracted effort to find some privacy in an overcrowded house. It's s process that's still unfolding. Recovery is a process that takes a little self awareness, honesty, and a willingness to ask for help if it's needed. 

A Midwinter's Creepy Tale Promo

 Everyone loves A Nightmare Before Christmas, right? Right? I'm hoping so, because I bring you another nightmare. One that has nothing at all to do with Christmas. But hey. When you've had your fill of jingle bells and Hallmark movies, you can put on the Cthulhu Holiday Carols and dive into Nightmare Ink, a creepy urban fantasy.

 

When magic gets under your skin, it can devour you out from the inside out.  

 Tattoo artist Aisa Romanchzyk specializes in binding Live Ink. The Seattle Police Department’s Acts of Magic Investigative unit engages her as a consultant in investigations involving Live Ink. When they bring her a prisoner being consumed by his Live Ink, Aisa commits a fatal error in her haste to save the doomed man. His tattoo, a Chinese dragon, empowered by magic and by the man's blood, escapes into the winter streets. Aisa pursues the creature and learns the hard way that killing other Live Ink artists' creations has earned her enemies.

 Slick, handsome Daniel Alvarez, the best Live Ink artist in four states, and her former lover, kidnaps her. Over the course of six agonizing weeks, he inks another soul to her skin.

 Wearing the masterpiece of a Living Tattoo, she manages to escape. The full body suit takes the form of a winged demon with his fangs buried in her jugular. Huge wings encircle her body as if in an embrace. Only his bright emerald eyes break the black of his shape. He’s alive, and he wants freedom. Since he'd rip away her throat in the process of separating from her, his freedom means her death. It's clear to both of them. He's meant to steal her magic, kill her, take her corporeal form, and return to his maker. Daniel.

 Aisa intends to find out why and thwart to Daniel by any means possible. She names the tattoo Murmur because of the insidious way he whispers into her nightmares and into her waking mind in his bid for freedom.

 In searching for a way to capture the escaped Chinese dragon, Aisa realizes Daniel is stealing other people’s magic. He’s also stealing souls from Murmur’s world to create his Live Ink pieces and he’s not asking for volunteers.

 Murmur understands Daniel means to open a direct portal from Murmur’s hellish world into this one in a bid for power that would make him immortal, something Murmur won’t allow. For the sake of both planes.

 To defeat Daniel, Aisa and Murmur must risk trusting one another and themselves.

What I Wish I'd Known

 What I wished I'd known before my books were published:

Nothing. 

Not a damned thing. I'm glad I didn't know what a weird and wonderful and stressful trip being published would be. I'm glad I didn't know about awards and nominations before hand. I'm grateful that I had no idea that business relationships could or would twist into something unrecognizable and actively harmful. I'm also grateful that I came to my first several books filled with aspiration and faith and freedom. Not that I was writing whatever I wanted - I recognized the need to comprehend craft and story structure and to honor to contract made with the reader. But because I lived in beginner's mind, I came to writing without any preconceived thoughts or ideas about what it HAD TO BE in order to make a sale or hit a list. When you're out there in the pre-pubbed trenches, you can't imagine, nor should you, the slings and arrows that come with being published. I suspect that when you're newly published, you can't imagine the problems that come with being in demand or with scrambling to make a living from writing. The truism is that we don't get to run away from pain. We only get to pick our pain. Which means every stage of writing life has its issues and its rewards.

This is a profession. It's a job. Like any other job, you'll have good days and bad days and a lot of boring, grindy days in between. That's why it's so vital for the process of writing itself to be the reward. The doing has to be the thing that brings you to the keyboard everyday. If you live only for the results of your writing, you'll have a lot of hard days in before hitting The End. Control what you can - spoiler alert: the only thing you control is you and your writing. Accept that all of life is a learning process and the day you're done with lessons and possible struggle, it will be because you slid into your grave. There's a grace to not knowing everything and a particular sweetness to retaining the capacity to still be surprised. 

So no. I don't have regrets about what I didn't know. I'm grateful for what has been and for what might yet come to be. Right now, that's enough.

 

Learning to Unlock Writing

It's funny. When we're newbie writers wanting to be authors, we get to a stage where we realize we need to learn a few things in order to level up to being authors. Then we shift into a stage where we secretly wonder if there isn't some special sauce thing we could learn that would catapult us to bestsellerdom. Maddeningly, the authors who are best sellers swear there isn't. Yet most of us keep looking. I know I did. Still do, sometimes.

I gather I'm susceptible to classes and training and such because I have a thing that I want that I know intellectually and emotionally is attainable. Yet I'm not attaining it. So I keep squinting at myself through some inverse magnifying glass trying to work out what's getting in my way. Classes have been part of that examination. I believed that if only I took enough writing classes, I'd pass some unknown Rubicon equivalent and suddenly get it together as a writer. The problem was that my issue wasn't with the writing. Necessarily. That can always improve. Maybe the better way to say that is to say that the writing hasn't been the blocker all this time. I have.

Getting a late-in-life autism diagnosis has been a trip and a process. A long involved process. I've had a lot to learn about what it means, how my brain functions, how I function, and what motivates me and what demotivates me. I've had to learn to pay much, much closer attention to what my nervous system tells me when it tells me. So all of my learning for the past two years has been from other autistic people, some of whom have done an amazing job of deconstructing what it means to be neurodivergent in Western society. I've had to learn how to stop masking so I can recover from a lifetime of burnout. That's been messy. I've learned that I'm demand avoidant to a pretty high degree and that impacts writing. I *finally* worked out why I've never won a NaNoWriMo. Write and report every day creates this massive block of pressure in my chest that builds and builds through the month until I just nope straight out and then call myself a failure. And then meltdown, anyway, without ever understanding why I end up hating me. Not super useful or particularly healthy. 

Having learned what I've learned so far, I'm doing NaNo differently this year. If I report daily, I report daily. (Spoiler alert - yeah, no.) I will just report my numbers when I feel like it. And if I don't make 50K? So what. I'll still be farther along than I was. So while I am taking classes and learning from folks - I can't really say that these people are teaching me writing. They aren't. But what they are teaching me is breaking writing free. Finally. Finally. 

Raven and his friend wish you a happy, relaxing Friday.