Not been on in a while. Have rather enjoyed the electronic hiatus. With pregnancy getting near the end and fatigue taking over, it's been a slow, slow life around here. I set aside all new work to take care of the little one to be and rest up for his big arrival. Days are counting down, now!
My novel has seen some progress. Mainly typing up what I've already written. Something about pen and paper makes writing truly transform into an art form than typing. I'll never trade them for the keys. Is a much more personal, spiritual connection to the work. Plus, in a storm, you can write by candlelight.
Getting things ready for the next few weeks . . . Hoping he waits the full month. And working when I can around the nesting.
29 January 2012
15 January 2012
15 January 2012
Well, that perfect pub wasn't doable as I had hoped. I could not get the piece trimmed enough to make it into their preferences. 1k is a lot to cut, and it just was not happening -- not without killing the work.
So, found another place to submit. Will see how it turns out. Am hoping for the best (fingers crossed).
So, found another place to submit. Will see how it turns out. Am hoping for the best (fingers crossed).
12 January 2012
Submission Update: 07 January 2012
Got the 'no' I was waiting for, hoping for. Though, to be honest, I think it was almost a yes (in which case I would have let them have it). The piece was rejected after 'several' reads. That alone is quite a boost for me and the work. I've not written bad (proof right there), it's simply a timing thing. So, I thanked them and am now off to finish the formatting for the other publisher.
This is what it takes to get out there: a non-stop push to support the work. The day I give up on any one piece I've written, that had better be the day I die. I do not put words on the page, I pour myself into them and give it all I have. Where else would any story get its life, if not from the writer who creates it?
Time for work. Time to hold up the piece and let it shine . . . and progress on the next story(s).
This is what it takes to get out there: a non-stop push to support the work. The day I give up on any one piece I've written, that had better be the day I die. I do not put words on the page, I pour myself into them and give it all I have. Where else would any story get its life, if not from the writer who creates it?
Time for work. Time to hold up the piece and let it shine . . . and progress on the next story(s).
09 January 2012
09 January 2012
Becoming a writer is not a fast track to riches, fame, and all the glitter to be held between the two. Most people think otherwise. But, for every writer who makes it to the top of the pile there are about a thousand more who scrape by paying their dues just to have the job.
When I started out, I made nothing. I worked, wrote, and focused on getting through high school then college. Still, I plugged away, getting published wherever I could. Usually, that meant non-paying poetry markets, short stories, or essays. My mistake, however, was not keeping a pen name with any true loyalty (privacy was the greatest luxury back then) and not keeping track of when and where the pieces went. A few of the contributor copies are in storage, in another state.
Anyway, when people ask what I do, their eyes go wide and comment about how well I must do or famous I must be. To be honest, it is rather odd, being on the receiving end of gawking. The fun comes later, when they bring up the money one could make being a best-seller. At which point, I kindly smile and explain to them that that is not the norm. Most of of writer folk make too little or just enough. In fact, for a month's worth of work here, 1-2 short stories -- when they are picked up -- can bring in $20-100. All depends on if/when they are accepted (the market can be fickle) and where.
So, for me, the income is not high in that style of writing. Some others could make it more lucrative, but not by much. Writing is a work of self and soul. We do it because we love it. And because it is what we do, deep inside, not simply killing time. Labor of love comes to mind, though it has a much deeper seat.
When I am asked why I did it. Why waste my time on something so utterly worthless (a bad corner performer makes more)? I smile and let them wonder. But honestly, I write because I would never want to do anything else. My characters are my pride and joys. The lives they live, the emotions they feel, they are as true to reality as you and I. Giving them that chance to live and breathe is beyond the words that fill the page.
I would do it for free -- have . . . and do. Once while working in a movie theater, I wrote half a novel on the folded sections of brown paper towels I could tear from the roll. Was a sequel. Actually, I wrote two sequels that way. If that is not an example of the writer's heart, I don't know what is. But, that is what and why we do what we do.
Well, at least for this writer.
When I started out, I made nothing. I worked, wrote, and focused on getting through high school then college. Still, I plugged away, getting published wherever I could. Usually, that meant non-paying poetry markets, short stories, or essays. My mistake, however, was not keeping a pen name with any true loyalty (privacy was the greatest luxury back then) and not keeping track of when and where the pieces went. A few of the contributor copies are in storage, in another state.
Anyway, when people ask what I do, their eyes go wide and comment about how well I must do or famous I must be. To be honest, it is rather odd, being on the receiving end of gawking. The fun comes later, when they bring up the money one could make being a best-seller. At which point, I kindly smile and explain to them that that is not the norm. Most of of writer folk make too little or just enough. In fact, for a month's worth of work here, 1-2 short stories -- when they are picked up -- can bring in $20-100. All depends on if/when they are accepted (the market can be fickle) and where.
So, for me, the income is not high in that style of writing. Some others could make it more lucrative, but not by much. Writing is a work of self and soul. We do it because we love it. And because it is what we do, deep inside, not simply killing time. Labor of love comes to mind, though it has a much deeper seat.
When I am asked why I did it. Why waste my time on something so utterly worthless (a bad corner performer makes more)? I smile and let them wonder. But honestly, I write because I would never want to do anything else. My characters are my pride and joys. The lives they live, the emotions they feel, they are as true to reality as you and I. Giving them that chance to live and breathe is beyond the words that fill the page.
I would do it for free -- have . . . and do. Once while working in a movie theater, I wrote half a novel on the folded sections of brown paper towels I could tear from the roll. Was a sequel. Actually, I wrote two sequels that way. If that is not an example of the writer's heart, I don't know what is. But, that is what and why we do what we do.
Well, at least for this writer.
07 January 2012
07 January 2012
"There is a word for a writer who doesn't give up: published."
- John Konrath
I've kept that in mind all week. It is absolutely true. Sadly, however, I'm bound to wonder what the word is for one who submits to the wrong publisher by mistake. Ha, ha, did that, too, this week. A few days ago, actually.
Shortly after getting the rejection slip I was back in the mix and found two possible homes for the work. One, I absolutely LOVED. The other, was a nice place to send, if not, definitely one to remember for a later piece. I had both sites open and was pouring over my piece to format it correctly and watching the clock tick down before needing to leave for a doctor's appointment.
Well, surprise, surprise, I got flustered! (Cringe) I set out all the formatting needed for the first choice, then checked the page for the submission link. I never realized I pulled up the wrong window. I took out all the formatting I'd just done then sent it off -- in the back of my mind wondering why.
Then it clicked. CRAP! As I got the sent confirmation, I noticed what I'd done. And shook my head all the way to the doc's office (and for most of the day. Honestly, still am). Hubby is cracking up and I'm praying for a rejection just so I can submit to the right one.
I could recall the piece, but I won't. It is in the same genre, same 'make ya think' slant, and, frankly, print cred is print cred. Just cannot believe I flubbed it so. Ha, ha.
So, time will tell. Maybe things will still work out. If the story gets a home and will be read, I'll be happy. That's why I do what I do.
- John Konrath
I've kept that in mind all week. It is absolutely true. Sadly, however, I'm bound to wonder what the word is for one who submits to the wrong publisher by mistake. Ha, ha, did that, too, this week. A few days ago, actually.
Shortly after getting the rejection slip I was back in the mix and found two possible homes for the work. One, I absolutely LOVED. The other, was a nice place to send, if not, definitely one to remember for a later piece. I had both sites open and was pouring over my piece to format it correctly and watching the clock tick down before needing to leave for a doctor's appointment.
Well, surprise, surprise, I got flustered! (Cringe) I set out all the formatting needed for the first choice, then checked the page for the submission link. I never realized I pulled up the wrong window. I took out all the formatting I'd just done then sent it off -- in the back of my mind wondering why.
Then it clicked. CRAP! As I got the sent confirmation, I noticed what I'd done. And shook my head all the way to the doc's office (and for most of the day. Honestly, still am). Hubby is cracking up and I'm praying for a rejection just so I can submit to the right one.
I could recall the piece, but I won't. It is in the same genre, same 'make ya think' slant, and, frankly, print cred is print cred. Just cannot believe I flubbed it so. Ha, ha.
So, time will tell. Maybe things will still work out. If the story gets a home and will be read, I'll be happy. That's why I do what I do.
05 January 2012
Submission Update: 14 Noember 2011
Heard back. And, yes, another no. But, I'm not out yet. Already, I've found more markets for the piece. Just finished the Thank You note back to the pub, I mean every one that I write, and am narrowing down the next place for submission.
To be honest, I did (and do) take a few minutes to mope about it. Well, it's get a hug from the hubby (normally, it'd be a cookie and cup of coffee while I head back to the office and try again, but the diet says no to that -- dammit), grab a snack for the next work session, and crank the tunes (or fave TV show) while going over further options.
I cannot let myself give up. I believe in the stories too much to just let them die like that. They mean something, or they would not have been written in the first place. And, if I don't stand behind the work, no one will. So, I plug away again -- and again and again and again. It is all worth it, to make sure they see print.
And they will.
To be honest, I did (and do) take a few minutes to mope about it. Well, it's get a hug from the hubby (normally, it'd be a cookie and cup of coffee while I head back to the office and try again, but the diet says no to that -- dammit), grab a snack for the next work session, and crank the tunes (or fave TV show) while going over further options.
I cannot let myself give up. I believe in the stories too much to just let them die like that. They mean something, or they would not have been written in the first place. And, if I don't stand behind the work, no one will. So, I plug away again -- and again and again and again. It is all worth it, to make sure they see print.
And they will.
04 January 2012
04 January 2012
A lack of motivation should never mean a lack of actual work. Something the new year has been hounding me with all week. Between hardly sleeping to feeling ill, to God knows what and more tedious crap, I've not worked. Well, not on the stories. Have done plenty of market searches and setting up new projects (start-itis, my one true talent), but very little writing.
To be honest, the computer had not even been turned on in 4 days. Hell, only reason it is now is to update my pod casts. Wow, how far we've come -- or not.
Though, work has been on my mind, especially yesterday. I miss the feel of the pen on paper, each branch of a letter seemingly filled with life and purpose like that of a brush stroke. Writers create pictures, lives, worlds; just as an artist does, but with letters and punctuation rather than paint. Both are equally colourful, vibrant, and awe-inspiring.
I love this job and just don't feel myself without doing it.
To be honest, the computer had not even been turned on in 4 days. Hell, only reason it is now is to update my pod casts. Wow, how far we've come -- or not.
Though, work has been on my mind, especially yesterday. I miss the feel of the pen on paper, each branch of a letter seemingly filled with life and purpose like that of a brush stroke. Writers create pictures, lives, worlds; just as an artist does, but with letters and punctuation rather than paint. Both are equally colourful, vibrant, and awe-inspiring.
I love this job and just don't feel myself without doing it.
01 January 2012
New Year's Resolutions
Asked my husband, a few days ago, if he had any new years resolutions he'd like to break. We both had a good laugh. Reality check: never are they kept. On the other hand, we do have a few we are already putting into action. We want to see them through so badly, we couldn't wait.
For him, he's getting into better shape. Honestly, he started that months ago. He wants to be ready for his son and not the daddy with a pudgy stomach. Am so proud of him!
On my end, low and behold, besides being a good wife and mommy, they're all work related. Top of the list is to finish 'Mitch.' After the novel -- only about 150 pages left -- is to finish my other projects and revamp two more this year.
'Mitch' is my pride and joy. Not my first novel -- that one I keep for me -- but, writing-wise, it is my baby and would like to see it finished. Eleven years of research, playing with plot depths and so on is a long time (and just as tall as the pile of notebooks and hard drive space to hold it).
Good luck to anyone making resolutions they wish to keep. And happy mocking to anyone making them just to see them break. ;) (done that myself, from time to time)
For him, he's getting into better shape. Honestly, he started that months ago. He wants to be ready for his son and not the daddy with a pudgy stomach. Am so proud of him!
On my end, low and behold, besides being a good wife and mommy, they're all work related. Top of the list is to finish 'Mitch.' After the novel -- only about 150 pages left -- is to finish my other projects and revamp two more this year.
'Mitch' is my pride and joy. Not my first novel -- that one I keep for me -- but, writing-wise, it is my baby and would like to see it finished. Eleven years of research, playing with plot depths and so on is a long time (and just as tall as the pile of notebooks and hard drive space to hold it).
Good luck to anyone making resolutions they wish to keep. And happy mocking to anyone making them just to see them break. ;) (done that myself, from time to time)
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