Writing Retreat

I get lots of emails and FB ads offering fancy writing retreats in secluded exotic places... I'm not sure which writers can afford to do all of those? My writing retreat happens once a year, in PEI between shuttling my kids to camp.

My Middles, the Bobseys are in two camps this week; hockey and horseback riding. (Do I need to explain further why I can't afford exotic writing retreats?). I drop them off, then plant myself at Starbucks (or the rink lobby) and peck away at my computer.

There's something to be said about having dedicated time.

My mind feels calmer.

My body feels more still.

My energy feels full.

And I've written nearly 25K words!!! With that comes a new drive to finish this WIP and move onto the next stages, editing, covers, publication! I'm aiming for my favourite release date: February 28.

N

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

Dreary

I'm feeling a bit lost, literarily... and impressed that the spell check did not pick up 'literarily' which means it's a real word, not one I invented.

My WIP is at the editor. I've been tossing ideas for the next story around in my head, but none of them have stuck. I'd like to write an urban fantasy, I think, nothing too out there but a story that makes you think maybe it's possible... but I haven't figured out what it's about yet. 

Geez, even my blog updates are

I wonder if this worry of never again having inspiration will ever go away? How many books does it take to build confidence that there are more books to write?

N

First Draft

There's this period between completing a first draft and figuring out how the fizzle to fix it. It's like shopping at Ikea - you go through their displays, get all excited about the piece of furniture you want, order it and bring it home in the box - First Draft complete!

Then you open the box and the ergonomic standing desk is in 47 pieces. It's totally not what it needs to be, though you can still picture the desk with the lamp and the cup of pens and the blotter and the coffee mug in your head. Figuring out which pieces to bang together first is daunting. Often there is crying at this stage.

(Seriously, go google 'ikea instructions' and click on 'images'. It's worth it.)

So that's where I'm at. I finished the first draft, went back and added the parts I knew needed to be added and ordered my box o' pieces (the printed hard copy to mark up with a pen). But I have yet to OPEN the box b/c I can already hear the rattling of random screws and pressed wood and I'm scared. Very scared.

N

Writing Interrupted

Mondays and Fridays are my 'Writing Day's. When I decided to make a go of this writing thing for real, I shifted my day job schedule and loaded hours on T/W/Th to leave M/F for writing. BUT, if there are kid appts, they are made on M/F as well b/c I don't lose money when I take time off writing...

Today there's double duty - a doctor's appt then a dentist appt for different kids. The chances of me finding a solid hour to peck away at the computer are frighteningly slim. And then there's the bag of Dairy Milk and Ritz mix that I've been saving for a writing day so I don't have to share them with anyone. Sad all around.

N

Back to Reality

Ah, vacations.

Everyone's back to real life today and, in true Sampson fashion, my alarm didn't work this morning. And by 'didn't work' I mean I probably turned it off to shut it up. I don't remember. Wake up to Kids at School was thirty two minutes... not bad! That included a shower for me, though I suspect none of my kids brushed their hair.

There are a bazillion things I should do this morning. The house looks like it threw up on itself. Especially the kitchen. If left any longer the dishes may sprout arms and wash themselves. The couch is taunting me with cushions that are uneven and sliding out of place. The dog is reminding me that he is a terrier and needs exercise in order to not be an asshole. Someone spilt Cheerios on the floor in the kitchen and those fuckers stick to socks so it's like getting a rock under your foot that crunches and crumbles with every step. Laundry. Laundry is like a good setting for a horror movie - you see the situation unravelling and know it's no good before the stupid characters do....

but I'm determined to write this morning.

If the dog lets me.

N

This and That and the other thing

Starting out with this post, I suspect it'll be a bit rambly, and not only because I just took a head first dive into a door frame (frozen corn thaws way too quickly).

Here's one of my stressors these days:

There's pretty much NO WAY I'm going to read seven books by the end of December. It doesn't help that my next BookClub book is The Stand, which is apparently 17,000 pages long.

I've been wrestling with my WIP for months now and it just doesn't want to cooperate. I love the idea. I love the characters. I love the story. But it won't get out of my head into my computer. So I've shelved it... It is my full intention to come back to it because the idea that the story does not come out is very sad to me... It needs to be read, there's a magical, life force to it that is demanding an existence, but right now it's not breathing.

In it's place I've started another idea. I write long fiction because I don't come up with ideas easily or frequently. This one popped into my head a week or so ago and I figured it was worth listening to. I'll see where it goes.

Four days left on the Indiegogo campaign to preorder It Should Have Been a #GoodDay! Check it out, as there are options available for Christmas presents too!

Off to get more frozen veggies for the egg on my head :D

N

Fraud Police

A friend recommended the book The Art of Asking by Amanda Palmer and I listened to it during our trip last winter. Pretty impressive book. At one point I had one of those moments where a fear I thought was mine alone was described and named and I realized I wasn't alone. She called it the Fraud Police. There are moments where I am sure I have fooled everyone around me to think I actually knew what I was doing, was worth their respect, was good at something. I've had it in all aspects of my life - professionally thought, "Who in their right mind gave me a real certificate to practice speech pathology?" in my parenting pretty much from "They let me leave the hospital with him?" to "I'm sure children's services will be by any minute to try and salvage this royal f*ck up of a job I'm doing".

But what it pertains to here is my writing.

What is a writer? This is what Google says:

I am the writer of three books, but that sounds suspiciously past tense.

I write books, though "job" is a strong word.

And when I'm sitting at my desk trying to write something that is stuck, or pretending to write but getting distracted by everything from cat videos to Facebook - am I still a writer? What if I stay stuck forever and never get another good book out - am I a writer then?

And what makes success? A finished book? A published book? A good review? Ten, twenty, a hundred good reviews? A best seller? I'm targeting the Nobel. They must feel pretty pleased with themselves. :)

N

Very Noisy in Here

To be a writer, as I understand it, you have to be open to inner dialogue. There are a lot of voices competing for my attention - dialogues between characters, dialogues I have with myself...

I've been struggling with my WIP. A historical fiction type book with a unique narrator and POV. It's been a fight to get my ideas down on paper. I have the general idea of the story in my head, I have done some bullet outlining of events - both real historical happenings and story bits that coincide. I have the characters dancing about and shouting at each other. But it's like I'm watching it all through foggy glass so I can't see or hear the details.

And one voice in my head is saying "Just get down the general story, worry about the details and the specifics later." and another voice is saying "Wow, that really sucks. You don't have a story here, you can't call yourself a writer. And besides, you ate cake for breakfast, no wonder you're fat!" (yeah, that voice is an asshole, and gets the podium waaaaay too often).

I'm plugging away at it.

In happier news - Aptitude has received several positive and glowing reviews! I'm so happy people like the story! Someone even called it one of her 'favourite books of all time' (and it wasn't my mom).

The Indiegogo campaign for It Should Have Been a #GoodDay is doing fantastic and many people are preordering the book. I've raised some money for the Rehteah Parsons Society too! AND the cover reveal is on there - if you haven't seen it, go check it out. It's beautiful, if I do say so myself, fantastic work done by Valerie Bellamy at Dog-Ear Book Design.

Sooo, now I go write and try to silence the moron in my head.

Natalie

Vicious Cycle

Happy Monday! Happy September!

I've been lost in a vortex ... obstacles of time and energy and lack of direction stopped me from writing or drawing since early August. Sure I did some editing and reworking of things, but no creation of new words or pictures. And the lack of creation sunk me. Low. Like Gilmore Girls marathons of inertia low. Which plummeted both my motivation to do and my confidence that it was worth doing at all. Course, while I'm lying lazy on the couch, pile on some unbelievable stress ... I was trapped.

Do you get like that?

I've said before that writing and drawing keep me even. It reduces stress, gives me energy, makes me happy and helps me breathe. I forced out a drawing yesterday, and pounded out some words today. They're probably not my best, not flowing or natural but forced and choppy and artificial... but they're down. And I'm a little bit lighter for it.

N

Writing in the Rain

I'm in Prince Edward Island this week on a self induced writing retreat... my future NHL-er (retirement plan) is in a super cool hockey camp in Charlottetown and since the commute to Halifax every day would be a killer I'm staying here too. Hard to see SLP clients from this distance so I'm committing my week to writing!

Currently I'm set up in a local cafe, out in their sun porch. The rain is plinking off the linoleum roof and a breeze is sneaking in though the screened walls. Cranberry apple tea is poured and corn chowder ordered. Happy happy sigh...

Now, if only I could get some words down!

N

Passions

Usually on Friday I get to write... which is pretty amazing. I sit quietly at my desk with my 47lb cat in my lap and peck out words that string together to create stories. Pretty cool. "Passion" seems like the wrong word because it's not frantic or heated or impulsive - it's quiet and reflective. But I love it.

Other passions - art, reading, baseball, pets... and today I get to watch my son share one of my passions. That might be my favourite way to experience passion - watching one of my kiddos learn to love one of mine. Often I am begrudging when I have to give up a writing day to do something else but not today. Today I get to watch my eleven year old play baseball. And by 'play baseball' I mean 'throw himself all in' to the game, down and dirty, full out, game on. He loves it. And I love to watch him.

My elder daughter loves shopping and drawing.
My younger daughter loves reading and animals.
My oldest son likes to write and read.

I love all of those things - my passions - but my favourite thing is to watch them learn to love it.

N

Research

My first three books were drawn from personal experience and needed little to no research to make sure they were plausible. The best way to avoid research? Make sh*t up in your own world :) That was fun!

But my latest WIP is in this world in a time and place that already happened so I have to do some research... It makes me nervous to get things right but the good news is I love research if it's interesting, and this stuff is. I've written about basketball, I've written about words and writing, my next story has a theme of art and I'm excited to dive into the paint.

N

Monday again, Rolling forward ...

I apologize for the lacklustre quality of my posts the past couple of weeks... It's really too bad that 'creative inspiration' isn't one of the steps of grieving or a symptom of the wicked summer cold I have. Bummer. But the Jays are playing well.

Actually Friday, after my half-assed post here and a four hour period in which I was dead-to-the-world asleep instead of writing, I pushed through the stuck spot in my WIF and feel a bit of the momentum moving forward. Momentum is a good thing — in more ways than just writing — so long as it's forward.

N

Friday

Happy Friday. Fridays are my favourite. A day to write in my quiet house with the whole weekend ahead... Today I'm battling a cold and forcing my foot (and my pen) forward. I'm struggling with my new story which is feeling stalled and heavy footed right now. I feel stuck, pushing forward against the grain. In more ways than one.

N

Five Stages of Editing Response

Research has demonstrated that there are specific stages of grief, though Google is undecided on whether there are five or seven of those stages.

I think there are stages to editing feedback. You send work out to an editor because, lets face it - self editing is a joke. The intent is for the editor to, um, edit it and point out areas that need improvement, make suggestions, identify weaknesses. But while that's the point I think it's every author's hope that that editor will actually write back "Holy Cannoli this piece is perfect! Don't change a thing!" 

I got my edits for #GoodDay back yesterday. Here are the stages of reaction to editing feedback:

1. Impatience - happens throughout the period of time in which the editor has your work. Symptoms include poorly hidden requests for updates ("What have you been doing today?") and flat out demands for reassurance ("It doesn't suck too bad does it?"). This stage lasts exactly until the point of the manuscripts return at which point the writer zaps directly into the second stage.

2. Indifference and Procrastination - even though you've spent the last several weeks thinking about nothing but the document, once the document arrives you immediately have forty seven other things you have to do right then and there is no opportunity to open the document and look at the editing. This stage can be fleeting or go on for hours.

3. Holy F#%k, I'm F*#ked - once the document is open, regardless of the level of editing, any and all suggestions look like monumental obstacles of penance and dire punishment. The thought of starting any of them is so impossibly daunting that the logical course of action is to forget the whole f@&king thing, crawl into a hole somewhere and curl up in the fetal position because you're not worth anything and no one likes you and who the hell said you could write anything anyway?

4. Suck it up, Buttercup - depending on the depth of the hole dug in stage three, this stage may take a very long time. Rereading and rereading and rereading the edit suggestions bangs them down from a vile dream destroying monster to a series of annoying, gnats. Giant gnats with disgusting breath and sharp teeth, but gnats just the same. During this period the writer climbs out of the hole and puts her tears away and tries to act like an adult by organizing and addressing each gnat as it presents itself.

5. Reverence - this stage comes on slowly, gnat by gnat, as the writer realizes (or probably rerealizes, that doubting nutter) that the editor is in fact a genius and each suggestion is a tiny angel sent from the beyond to lift the story to a new level of brilliance. (This is also the stage in which the writer feels slightly guilty for putting their own name on the cover and not the editor's - but that's a whole other series of confidence gymnastics)

I'm editing #GoodDay today and am trying to dig out of the hole into the field of buttercups. Think of me and send me healing vibes.

N

Whispers of a new story:

I don’t need words. Words are units that people use to confuse and condone and condescend and compromise with each other. They are limited by language and sound and prone to misinterpretation. I skip all that.

Wonder where it will take me?

N  

The Name Game

Soooo, I was procrastinating on Facebook - true story - and my chat partner and I were batting around titles for my February release... AND, we hit a home run. No joke! It turned into a good day for writing!

It was a combination of some other titles we had tried out, a word here, a phrase there, a concept, a trick, all blended together into one Lightning title.

When we titled Game Plan it was done with a lot of back and forth brainstorming... the title "Game Plan"didn't come crashing into the conversation as the OMG THIS. IS. IT. title.  It slipped in there quietly and was passed back and forth in the list of "Well I like these:". I might admit that as much as I came to love the title - it's absolutely the most appropriate for the story and I was able to work it into the story a bit more solidly to make it excellent... I was kinda disappointed I didn't have that Lightning moment with it.

So I have had it with this one! The working title is Henry, after the first character written into the story. I've called it Henry for over a year now and I'm quite attached to it, and to him, but it's not a good title for the book... kinda like calling your child "Mooser Goose" (which I'm guilty of doing) is not very appropriate for trivia on the back of his NHL trading card.

N

Beginning again

I'm scratching some ideas in my notebook for a new story... sometimes it feels like I'm 'that close' to the story and can see a full novel taking shape, then two minutes later I'm wondering if any of it is worth anything and can't see how it'll be more than chicken scratches in my notebook.

Editing stories is fun. Developing stories is fun. Writing stories is fun.

Starting stories is not fun.

It shouldn't be a big deal, there's always room to change and move and adjust a story if it's not going the way it should... starting a story doesn't cast it in stone, but the beginning is daunting for me and a challenge to get through.

I'm hoping this one works b/c I think it's a fun idea... we'll see where it leads!

N

Worthy topics...

What makes for interesting reading?

I was talking with a friend the other night about finding places to publish and we started talking about magazine articles and creative non fiction. My initial reaction to creative non fiction is "My life's too boring to write about." That's not a bad thing. I don't have some deep dark secrets to document, I don't have huge life struggles or trying times I've overcome, I don't have dramatic life experience.

So what do I have to contribute?

My friend listed several ideas, regular everyday boring ideas that maybe aren't so boring:

being a hockey mom to girls - is it different from boys?
dealing with single parenting while Steve's away
trying to kick my sugar / carbs addiction
why I shaved my head
trying to find some new TV to watch
struggling to get back into art or sports

It's not trauma and triumph but it is daily life...

N