Back in town!

It's been a while since I updated here... summer seems to be so unproductive.

I'm working on some new things:

1. new book (yay!)
2. new editions
3. new website
4. new appreciation for Starbucks London Fog

And fighting with some old:

1. old diet Coke habit
2. old desk clutter
3. old inferiority complex

So bear with me. Bare with me? (I honestly hate that word for anything but a fuzzy hibernating mammal.)

This gig continues to be a roller coaster. There are wow-that's-cool moments that give me little pushes like hearing from a university friend that she saw my book in an airport bookstore, or that a friend of a friend saw it in a bricks-and-mortar in the US. There are ha-just-when-you-thought-about-getting-cocky moments that knock me down like fifty thousand rejections. (I love the word hyperbole, especially the way it's spelt). Even the polite and encouraging rejections sting.

SO I find this time of year is kind of a regenesis. (it is *SO* a word, spell-check). It's a time to regroup and buckle down. Evaluate and remember my goals and the whys and flush out the nagging doubt and frustrations.

And let the dog out and in. And out and in. And outandinandoutandinandout. And in.

I can only hope I'll end up with a David Tennant type season.

N

Twice a year reset

Seems like twice I year I need to dig my desk out from under the dump-it-here pile and dust off my intentions. I've been coasting lately... With two projects in the early stages of publication I've been nervous? reluctant? superstitious? to start anything new. And for the past month or so both projects were in other hands... soooo what do I do? I watch Netflix if the truth be told :)

Not today. The desk is clear of clutter and my chocolate stash is well organized. I'm going to do some mini-stuff, writing exercises, drawing, creative output with short term or no obligated deadlines so when the big stuff bounces back to me I'll be already running to catch it.

Oh and I'm drinking diet Coke again, blast it. I thought I could sneak a few in on vacation - especially with our loooong drive home - and quit when I got here, but I forgot about how miserable it is when it's cold and snowy and dark and how I typically get sick when I get back from vacay and how, if only momentarily, the neurotoxins in diet Coke make everything seem.... fine.

I might be crazy.

Oh and how distracting are kittens? Com'ON look at that face!

SQUIRREL!

N

Writing Process Blog Hop!

Another invite!  I'm not being nearly reclusive enough.

This one has questions I need to answer:

1. What am I working on?

 Egads I don't know!!! I'm running around in circles putting out fires! I'm marketing my first novel as much as I can, I'm still subbing my second novel. My third novel is out being beta-read and I have about 1000 random words that may or may not be the infant heart beat of another story.

2. How is my work different from others of its genre?

I've said a few times, I hate the concept of 'genre'... a story is a story, I don't like that we have to stuff it in a category so it's easily found on a shelf somewhere. I'll use my Pulizter notoriety to change that.

But for real, my work is different just because it's mine :) At the risk of sounding terribly cheesy... I think writing is an art form that is driven by personal experience, emotions, beliefs and opinions - even if you're writing fiction, the truth that is relatable to the reader is built from a foundation of the author's life events and insights. I struggle to sell Game Plan because it's not a 'catchy, action packed' story... it's a soak in and feel story.

3. Why do I write what I do?

I dunno.

Okay okay, I really don't know. I'm actually surprised at how different each of the stories I've written is... the first is a contemporary YA about teen pregnancy, the second a dystopian story about the power of words, creativity and defining love, for the third I'm trying to tame and organize a harrowing experience of four teens in high school and the fourth? The fourth hurts already. Maybe I have multiple personalities.

4. How does my writing process work?

I need quiet. I love the idea of having a soundtrack for a story, but I can't, I need silence from music, from kids, from interruptions. I have my work space that is only for writing with a spot for my diet Coke and M&Ms. My cat likes to jump on and off my knee.

Please check out my Twitterly friends' blogs:

The Magnificent Alison DeLory

The Effervescent J.D. Robinson

The AllWise Marion C. Lanier

The Delusional Ellen Mulholland (She's an A's fan, poor girl)

N

Versatile Blogger

Sooo, in the blogging world there are these awards that are really chain letters dressed up in glittery tank tops and tutus. The cool thing is, these awards help me meet new writers and new readers which in the writing world is very cool. (There are books in print that prove the theory that media hype and notoriety can trump good writing in impact on book sales). 

My Twit Mate, Ellen appointed me as a "Versatile Blogger". It should be a compliment, though her status as A's fan does have me questioning her taste. I'm choosing to consider her ball team as an outlier on the study of her character. 

Here are the tasks I must do:

1. Thank the giver.
2. Name 15 new recipients. (this is the one I'm breaking)
3. Tell the giver 7 special things about yourself.

Fifteen blogs. Hmm. Back in the day I could rattle off fifteen easily but truth is I'm much more persnickety (yes, I thesaurused that) about social media these days and spend less time reading blogs to waste more time on FB and Twitter. So, my list is considerably shorter than fifteen and I'm going to choose not to pass on the award to them, just hope that the burning comet won't hit the house directly (or whatever other evil thing is supposed to happen when the chain breaks). Still, here are a few of my favourites:

Amy's Marathon of Books. Seriously, check out the work she's doing! Raising money for YA authors in Canada through a read-athon fundraiser with the CCBC.

This Is Photography. A local photographer with BEAUTIFUL work. I love looking at her updates.

The Bloggess. Is this a lame entry since I'm probably the last person on Earth to hear of her? I was handed her book first, then followed her blog and followed her Twits... she's f'in HILARIOUS.

This is the reason Tumblr is worthwhile.

So four is close to fifteen right?

Now, seven things about myself... Almost as challenging.

1. I chew my nails, 'specially when I'm thinking so when I get lots of writing done my nails are kinda short.
2. I'm a die-hard Toronto fan - Jays, Leafs, Raptors - and yes, I know they lose a lot. 'Cept this year, right?
3. I have a hoodie problem... like other people have too many shoes or too many purses? I have hoodies.
4. I drink diet Coke like some people drink coffee.
5. I love to sing to loud music in the car. My kids still think that's cool but I realize time is limited.
6. Speaking of kids, I have one born in each season, which would make a very cool tattoo, I think.
7. I've aways wanted to be on Broadway, 'cept I can't act, sing or dance and I hate being in front of people.

:) Happy Weekend!

N

Remembering Why I get to Write

In my existence, I've got many roles - Momma to my four Munsters, half of a 'You-and-I-Against-the-World' duo, feeder of four four-legged, furry souls, friend to some certifiable nut cases, SLP to some pretty awesome kids and families and most recently writer of stories. There are days when I love being all that and days when I hate being most of that and most days are frighteningly dynamic in that balance, moment to moment mood swings even!

But I'm safe.

I have a cushy job (well, two cushy jobs) that won't make me rich but help me feed my kids. I work in warm, clean, safe buildings with comforts such as ergonomical chairs (I'm told 'ergonomical' is not a word, but I'm not sure how to use ergonomically), and M&Ms and diet Coke. My kids are healthy, stimulated by education, music and sporting opportunities. They're safe and free to imagine whatever existence they want to find in the future, be it an NHL player or a horse riding coach (this week, anyway). My husband, parents, brother, sisters-in-law, friends live close or far, a phone call or Twit away, I know where they all are. Again, safe.

Here's why:

June 6, 1944

And in case you think that photo is dated and irrelevant: 

 June 5, 2014

So, from my cushy, ergonomical chair (see? I made it a word), it's important to be grateful to people who pick less cushy, less safe jobs so I can be free to sit here and write.

N

Writing Challenges of the Day

My drivers' licence expired on Friday which meant I had no choice but to head to the DMV today to get it renewed. Last thing I need is a ticket for driving with an expired licence. Or be in an accident with an expired licence or anything to do with an expired licence, really. SO I packed up my computer so I could work while I waited and headed to Access NS. That's when things got weird... there was no wait. Literally. I walked up to one desk, answered some questions and paid my money then walked to the next desk took a terrible picture (seriously, diet starts as soon as the ice-cream in the freezer is gone) and took my new card. Weird.

Now I'm back home, challenge #2. My diet Coke stash is depleted. I found a bottle that is 3/4 full in Steve's office so that'll have to do for the morning. I have no M&Ms but that's not a bad thing b/c of that whole terrible drivers' licence picture thing.

But my real challenge is this... my WIP has three voices. They all contribute something worthwhile. They're complex characters with interesting stories, differing perspectives and unpredictable responses. It works. But there's a forth voice who is hovering... so far he's one dimensional, straightforward and uncomplicated... he just doesn't fit as a voiced character, but I feel like maybe he needs to be there too... I'm not sure how to tackle this one... I feel like maybe changing his name is the first thing to do. It's a bit more challenging than my limited diet Coke.

N

Much About Nothing

I started this blog entry first thing this morning. That's my routine on writing days, first a blog entry to get me warmed up, then whatever I'm working on. Oh wait, no first is Facebook, then blog entry, then Facebook, then WIP, then Facebook for a bit... you get the picture. Toss in there several trips to the kitchen to refill my diet Coke glass, find a snack, let the dog out, turn on the water for the cats... And speaking of cats, the fat one jumps up, jumps down, jumps up, jumps down all day. She's cute though, and she talks to me with mews so how can I resist?

Perhaps there are multiple reasons why I'm not always productive?

This am though, the blog entry was a big white blank page. I didn't know what to put. I thought I'd try to compare the arts of writing and drawing to the arts of sports in light of the recent Olympics and I was going to tie them together with Churchill's famous answer "Then what are we fighting for?" to the suggestion of cutting funding for arts for the war effort but even that wound up a dead end because apparently he didn't even say that. So I gave up on the blog entry and went back to my WIP (well, Facebook first, if I'm honest) and I actually had a good day and got a lot done.

Happy Monday!

N

Ah Friday

Snow is really quiet. When it's raining, you can hear it hit the windows and the roof or hit the puddles as they get bigger. Snow just floats, heavy and slow and silent. That's what's outside my window. And while it might sound poetic, I hate snow. HATE it.

But whatever. I'm tucked into my office chair with a puddle of a cat perched on one knee. My desk light is making a circle on my computer and my diet coke is cold and fizzy. I have on my Fierce Reader hoodie that is too big and sooo slouchy it's perfect. My Acadia sweats and my way too expensive wool slippers that are actually worth every penny.

I've got the skeletons of three people pounded out. Today I'm going to do some digging into journalistic writing and try my hand at news articles. My newest project is starting to take shape, starting to grow and move on it's own and hopefully soon I'll have to rush to keep up.

I hate snow, but I love Fridays :)

N

Coffee Shop Writing

My van needed work before I drive it and three Demons to Moncton next weekend for a hockey tournament. As much as I try to prioritize M/F as 'writing days', the evil truth is it's easier to take time from non-paying job days than it is from paying job days - so Monday often gets sucked into doctor appts, kid appts, car maintenance.

This am I dropped the car off, intent on sitting in their too soft sofa with my computer and ignoring the bustle around me to get some work done... but they have a shuttle! So I asked them to shuttle me to Starbucks. Not the one in the mall, though that was my first choice. Not even the one in Chapters, b/c honestly if I were in a mall or in Chapters, I don't suspect I'd get much work done. So, I'm sitting in a teeny drive through Starbucks wondering how long I'll last before I walk across the street to Wendy's and their over sized diet Coke.

Suddenly I find myself in a snooty coffee shop with my computer on their wifi and my outline in my bag ready to start writing it out... and even though I've spent a week in Banff, I've gone through the publishing process once, I've self-pubbed a short story, I've done a book launch and booked a 3-city book tour... I feel like a writer today because I'm in an uncomfortable chair at a table that's dangerously too small for my puter and my bitter hot chocolate listening to dumb music and random conversations. And I miss my pup and kitties.

N

Step away from the computer...

Game Plan and UntitledSecondStory are both pretty linear stories - start at the beginning, tell the middle and then the end. Well, that's not totally true - UntitledSecondStory starts at the near end, then swings back to the beginning and tells to the near end and then the end, but it's still a pretty straight line.

I don't think this one is. I've got three voices, several scenes and one day - I think. One day to tell, not one day to write. And I'm hoping it's one of those stories where everything only becomes crystal clear at the end, but for that to work it needs two things: 1. NOT be obvious in the beginning and middle and 2. Be totally obvious at the end. That 'I see dead people' moment that Bruce Willis and the rest of us totally missed.

So I've spent my morning doing something I've not done before. I'm writing an outline. Egads. I *thought* I wrote outlines before - Word document charts that had chapters or months and listed the general events of that chapter or month, but this is a REAL outline - complete with coloured pens and index cards. It's been kinda like taking notes in a hard course - no idea wtf the teacher is talking about up there, frantically writing trying to glean any sense whatsoever and then having that moment when I go "OOOooh, now I get it" and realize the whole package just clicked into place.

Maybe not the *whole* package, but more than was there this morning.

And the unexpected side benefit? When I'm not working ON the computer, I'm much less likely to be distracted by Facebook. That pretty much doubled my productivity right there. I need more diet Coke.

N

Ahhh

It's 8:26am, the house is quiet enough that I can hear the heat pump and the dryer. My fatcat Abby is perched on my left leg, Luna is on Rookie's launching pad on the floor (he needs the pad there to jump onto the bed) and Rookie is snoring in the living room by the door. I have no idea why he won't sleep in here when I'm home? My tall glass of Diet Coke is half gone, but still cold - the bubbles are popping at the surface. The lights are down, but my desk lamp is on, spotting the computer. The clutter that lands on my desk through the weekend has been cleared away so that only my old Cabbage Patch doll, Danielle Daniel's  Brave girl print and Brett Lawrie (the bobble head version) are watching me...

I've got the whole day ahead to tie up loose Game Plan strings and soak in UntitledSecondBook edits.

Ahhhh.

N

Heartache

If there's one thing in common with my two stories it's a good dose of heartache. I hope it reads real because I feel it when I write it, or when I edit it. It makes me sad and sullen so that sometimes it's hard to pull myself back to the 'real world' where my characters' heartache isn't mine.

I'm editing my second book today and I'm getting into the gritty stuff. It's hard to reread. But I love the story and I want it to be as strong as it can be so I'm pushing through.

I might need a hug soon though, since I'm not allowed Diet Coke.

N

Big News!

So I tried to find a town crier but there's a shortage here in Halifax. Instead I'm resorting to my online voice. Today is the day!!! A press release (can you believe it? A press release about MY book?) was, well, released to the WHOLE WORLD today at noon. That means I can finally scream that my book will be published by the fantastic team at Fierce Ink Press!!! I'm so excited to be working with those girls on my first book. Even though they don't deliver addictive beverages (read: Diet Coke) to the house, they have been a great support system in the initial stages of working towards publication.

And to publish a book, it needs a title. My next big news is unveiling the final title (drumrolllllll):

Game Plan

I love it. I knew it would need a new title, but was a bit worried it would feel like renaming my ten year old. When we found the perfect one though, it was easy to switch it up in my mind.

N

Bad diets make for good writing days?

Ernest Hemmingway was an alcoholic wasn't he? And Fitzgerald. And a quick google search actually resulted in this list of writers who were alcoholics too.

I think you have to be a little bit unstable to allow imaginary voices the power over you to make them real.

I love Smirnoff coolers, but not at dysfunctional quantities. Usually. My vices are Diet Coke and chocolate. I've given up DC several times, a few times for years, but have fallen back off the wagon, especially on my writing days. It helps to keep the voices flowing. And what goes better with DC than chocolate? Specifically an over sized Reese peanut butter cup.

So I may die early of obesity or an aspartame induced brain tumour, but artists are worth more dead, anyway, right?

N