Asking for free babysitting, free money and other humbling things.

I am applying for a writing grant.  It's funny, if anyone were to tell me that they had been given a grant I would think that was very cool.  Medical research, social and cultural groups and artsy people get those.  Nice for them.  But when I decide to apply - No Way!  I haven't produced a product for which I am getting paid!  How lazy am I that I want free money to do what I love.  It's for love of books and telling a good story that I do this.  Right?  

Well love don't pay the bills, my friend.

So I got used to the idea and realized that in a couple of months when the kids go back to school I will probably need to get a job.  I'm not against that, but even if it were a part time job I would spend any extra time volunteering with the kids school, being class hepler whatnot. (Hey, they're only this little once!)  I would be tired and low on time and writing would be the first casualty.  That is still what might happen.  But if I get a grant, then I can stay home and write.  Volunteering an hour or two once or twice a week would be a nice break and my writing time per day would increase by hours.  Oh, bliss!

Sadly, by the time I came to terms with all of this I only had two days to get the request in.  Bummer!  To sit and write something that is so important to me is an emotional thing and I knew that I could not have the kids around.  I would not be nice if they interrupted because my nerves would be up.  I needed babysitting.  

Free babysitting.  (I'm poor, remember?)

So my nicey nice parents are watching kid #2 and my super busy hubby will pick up kid #1 in ten minutes so that I can sit in Starbucks and write.  It's difficult to strike a balance between giving the reasons that you feel you deserve a grant and yet not sound whiney.  I would imagine that tear stains are a no-no.  Too bad, I could have given some this morning when I held a long to do list in my hand and checked the grant deadline.  Once again, most of the list will wait.  But that's alright.  We are very good at digging our clothes out of laundry baskets and wearing sandals if there are no clean socks.  See, what I am doing is teaching college level life skills to my children.  Someday, when they are eating mac and cheese for the third time in one week in a tiny apartment, they will be thankful that mom taught them to add frozen peas.  Nutrition.  I teach it all.

I have found her!

Okay, I have hammered out the basic plot and beginning of my next story.  I won't give details, but it's about a zombie girl and her quest to find love and live flesh in the modern world.

I was having problems with the story veering into horror instead of just dark but fun, it was seriously frustrating.  So I decided to find pics of the girl, the guy and maybe a few other characters, then make a playlist from itunes.  I haven't used pictures before, but having a playlist was reeeeally helpful when I wrote Elemental.  I never wrote a word without the playlist going to keep me solid in tone.  I haven't decided what should be on a zombie romance playlist, but I do know that it will more than likely solve my problem.  

Actually, I like the pictures so much that I think I'll find some for Elemental to help with the revisions.  I am so visual, I don't know how I didn't think of this earlier!  

Anyway, here she is...Mary Jane Baker.  Yes, the Mary Jane part is intentional.  No one wants their character to be a Mary Jane, they're helpless victims and are always waiting to be saved.  But that's how she became a zombie - waiting for a hero.  Maybe as an undead she can learn to be her own.  We'll see...

Using the green eyed monster

I have a huge case of the Big Green Ugly.  It's not pretty and I'm not proud of it, but I do intend to use it.  

My friend is doing reeeally well with her writing.  She has earned it, she works her butt off for it and is very talented.  But I am stuck in Mommy Summer Schedule and can't hardly find the time to blog a short post let alone write.  It's an excuse, but a legitimate one.  You need to write to grow and progress, kids need care and attention.  These two things are a difficult mix when school is out.  In later years, it will be easier to just take the summer off or make sure that I have a very light work load.  But for right now, when I am trying to establish myself - torture.  I keep thinking, "We could afford the new swing set if Mommy sold a book which will never happen if I never have time to write!"

Oh well, I can't really change any of this right now.  But I can turn my jealousy into motivation and planning.  That way, when the kids go to school in the fall I will be ready to work.  Full of writing mojo and enthusiasm, I will succeed!  

Unless the money is tight and I need to find a paying job....   Poop.

Welcome to The Waiting Game!

Thank you for joining us today ooooon.....The Waiting Game!  Here's your host - Conan O'Brien!  *Roar of crowd*  *Applause*  And tonight's guest until she hears back about her book.....Rose Gott!  Isn't she lovely?  And witty, too!  Aaaalso joining us tonight, simply so Rose can sit next to him and giggle.....Hugh Jackman!

Oh man, wouldn't waiting be so much cooler if it was anything at all like that?  Hanging with Andy Richter and Conan, cracking jokes about the band and showing 8 second clips from movies with no explanation.  Nice.  Hopefully one of the zoo people would show up with animals.  In my world, it would be one of those times when the animals run amuck and everyone is trying to not look alarmed.  Fun on a bun, my friends!

Life, however, is not quite that generous or fun on an average day.  Waiting is a relatively solitary endeavor and there is almost never a band.  I should know, I am one of the Queens of Waiting.  Three years ago I waiting 18 months for my daughter's adoption to clear the Haitian government.  There have, of course, been many other things that I have waited for- my cancer diagnosis and such.  But the adoption was a marathon wait that put me in the major leagues.  

What am I waiting for?  Word about my book.  I've sent it to two editors and one agent.  Now, I wait.  But one thing that I have learned about waiting is that it is rarely a static thing.  You keep going and doing while you wait.  This is why I am about to start on another story.  I know that my first will need more editing and added chapters, but right now it's a source of stress.  Pulling up the files on it is a sure way to stop all creative flow because it brings up screaming  questions.  Will they like it?  How long will I have to wait until I hear back?  Will it be published?  Will they see my potential as a storyteller or be stuck on the relatively small word count?  Then I move onto the really stupid questions.  Should I use a pen name?  How long until my first book signing?  When will I be at ComicCon?  Will I ever meet Joss Whedon and will he be a fan?  

See what I'm saying?

That's why I'm moving on today.  I don't even think that I'll start on the next book I have planned with the same characters.  Nope, I have a nice zombie romance to flesh out.  (Pun intended.)  It makes the idea of writing fun again, whereas the stress of trying to get a story noticed can suck it dry.  My plan is to write what makes me laugh and get excited, then let the fun be tempered by the business end of it.  Maybe that's naive, but I want writing to be my job, a career that I choose because I love it as much as I did teching.  I don't want to burn out until I have been to ComicCon, slapped palms with Nathan Fillion and had my fangirl moments.  I will burn out later, right now I have to figure out if zombies need to eat brains to exist or if blood and flesh are enough.  Or is magic enough?  Don't know, can't wait to find out.  ; )

Glittering Cloud...Not just a kick-ass song.

My friends are moving and needed someone to watch their kids.  So their three and seven year old girls came to play with my four year old and thus my plans for writing a killer query for an agent died.  *Moment of silence*

It's all good though, these are good friends that we will soon see much less of and whom we will miss.  I would never pass up the opportunity to help them during, what has turned out to be, a very stressful move.  Plus, it was good for the kids to play somewhere that had toys available instead of stacks of boxes.  

We painted, we glittered, they splashed in a little pool, crashed around like linebackers in my daughter's room and generally did little girlie girl things.  It was great, but my entire house now sparkles in a coating of pink and silver glitter that shows no sign of leaving anytime soon.  

Oh well, hopefully the agent that I choose for my, sure to be awesome, query will have a sense of humor.  Maybe, they will be charmed by the iridescent sheen on the paper.  After all, originality counts for something, right?  I mean, what sets me apart from Stephen King?  Glitter paper, that's what.  

So yeah, today was great.  Now I have a gimmick to go with my talent.  A neon sign to point the way to the main attraction, if you will.  If it works for the good people of Reno, Nevada- it can work for me!

Popcorn vs. Suckage

I love a good popcorn movie.  Pretty people do unrealistic things, gravity is laughed at, all laws of physics are suspended and, usually, big things go boom.  There are many, many times when this is all that I want from a movie.  Nice eye candy.  Sometimes, I want to laugh, cringe, yell "whoa!" and clap my hands.  Not very girlie of me, but I already went through a couple of touchy feelie 'important movies can teach us things' phases.  I still watch a variety of movies, but my life is already full of drama- why rent it.

And so I would like to put before you a few movies that are excellent popcorn movies.  Academy award winning?  uh, no.  But fun, fun, fun.  

First, let's be clear- a good popcorn movie cannot be so bad that it is distracting.  Casting, editing, directing and special effects need to all step up and do a decent job.  This is why, for all of my deep love of Jonathan Stratham, his movie In the Name of the King was one of the worst pieces of crapola ever.  The casting was awful, directing was worse, the editing took it to a whole new incomprehensible level of sewage and then the special effects guy (feeling the pressure.)  put his own drooping turd blossom on the pile.  The monsters, I have no idea what they were suppose to be, looked like Sleestaks in leather.  

But I digress.  Here, for your viewing pleasure, are a few looked over gems.

1. Push - People with psi gifts are experimented on.  Those who escape must live in hiding from the government and fight for their lives.  I have no idea what everyones issue was, this movie was awesome!  Comic book all the way.  I loved the story, the setting, the casting, everything.  It was really good and no one saw it.  That always saddens me.  It means that there will be a Hannah Montana II, but no Push 2.  Unless it's straight to DVD and has no original cast members and a quarter the budget.  Unfair, I say.

2. Crank - FUN!  Jonathan Stratham is Chev Chelios and has been given poison and has 24 hours to find a cure.  Bonus, he's a hit man and his ditzy girlfriend has no idea.  Some of my favorite scenes are of him trying to protect her while she blithely goes about her business.  The movie is just enough tongue in cheek to accept and laugh at over the top elements - like sex on the sidewalk in Chinatown.  (Funnier than it sounds.)  However, it takes itself seriously enough to have good directing, editing and effects.  Loved it, can't wait to see Crank 2.

3. The Fifth Element - In a dystopian future an ex-military cab driver (Bruce Willis) must help an alien who has come to save the world.  My hubby actually bought this one, the eye candy is so good.  Plus the there is some serious laughs to be had, especially when Gary Oldman is on screen.  That man is a hoot!  Plus it's the first Chris Tucker sighting and he will make you bust a gut.  

Okay, so there they are.  Three movies you probably have passed over in the Video Store but are totally worth a look.  Leave your academy standards in the car, grab a beer, some popcorn and chips, and enjoy.

You're welcome.

Writing on the run

As a mother of two kids, one of whom happens to be autistic and need a little extra attention, my writing time can be an elusive and wily thing.  When my hubby is not on his own deadline, he can play defense for me and make sure that I remain undisturbed while I work.  But in times like these, when his stuff is due today and he lost time watching kids while I worked last week, I am on my own.  And school is out.  And the weather is bad.  yay...

But it's all good, I have learned lesson #43 in writing.  Don't yell at the kids whenever they are near you and breaking your concentration.  That will only make them upset and curious, they will never leave.  It's like getting mad at a dog and thinking that waving a bacon sandwich in front of them will make them back off.  Won't work.  Instead, try ignoring them until you finish your sentence, barring your son grabbing your chin and moving it to face him because he honestly thinks that you have gone deaf and is concerned, and then calmly turn to face your interruption.  Smile, or at least show teeth, express concern or admiration- which ever will satisfy the current need.  As soon as they break eye contact, go back to writing.  Repeat as necessary.

An even better trick (#39) is writing on the run.  I have begun carrying my laptop in a backpack and taking that instead of my purse.  This way, when we go to a library or playground, I can hang with the kids until they drift off and then get a little writing done.  Special bonus: the constant creative stimulus of scenery changes, fresh air and people watching.  Special bummer:  the constant need for Advil because the backpack is heavy.  Plus, if people reading over your shoulder is upsetting, like it is for me, then you can carry it all day and never use it.  Either the kids are in need of lots of bonding that day or people are nosey as soon as you break out the computer.  My laptop has been logging some serious miles, but I have only written while out with the kids a couple of times.  I feel better having it just in case.  You never know when the kids will forget that I am even there for an hour or two.  

Well, I'm off to help my friend pack for moving and to possibly take her kids to the park.  Oooo, better take the laptop.  

Everything I know about writing I learned from pottery.

Before I ever began my first real story with the intent of selling, I was a potter.  Well, I was a Veterinary Technician and a potter.  There is a studio in the garage and everything.  I have a wheel, a kiln, a canvas covered table and shelves full of glaze materials, pieces in various steps of the process, an air compressor and all the rest of the little things that go with playing with mud for money.  I'm not too bad at it, either.  I've been payed for it, I've been in juried shows and I hope to get back to it one day.  But it's really a hobby for me, not a drive.

Since childhood, I have always operated on the assumption that everyone walks around with running stories filling up all of the blank spaces on their mental wall.  I see them everywhere.  A good song is the best inspiration ever.  Things that I see, and sometimes the stories in my head, may inspire a shape for pottery, but it's not a constant influx for me.  My constant has always been words.

Now that I am writing, I have found that one of the most challenging things is focusing on one and making the others be idle.  For years I haven't written any down, but now that I am they all want attention.  But that has nothing to do with what pottery has taught me.  Nope, pottery taught me what will probably be one of the most helpful things that I will ever learn for writing- never fall in love with your work, be willing to rework or even crush it.

In pottery, there are just a million and one things that can go wrong.  Doing a bad job wedging leaves bubbles in the clay that interfere with throwing or make lovely explosions in the kiln, when trimming you can trim right through the bottom of your pot, glaze can go wrong in may ways, firing can go wrong, the clay itself might be wrong somehow.  It was the bad clay that taught me this.  My teacher, Michael, would throw some amazing, huge, beautiful piece to teach us technique and then punch it back down into a ball.  We would all freak out and he would say, "Never fall in love.  Make it better next time."  

It was my first pottery class at the local college and I was extremely proud of my work.  There were several bowls, a couple plates and maybe a cup that I had made.  But the first piece that was fired exploded in an interesting spiral pattern that Michael had never seen before.  It hurt some of the pieces next to mine and it was determined that the clay was just bad.  Some sort of impurity or whatnot.  So, right there in class where I had spent hours working hard to learn, I threw it all out.  I didn't cry but it hurt.  A lot.  Everyone else was very upset on my behalf, I think that they came close to shedding tears on my behalf.

After I was done tossing them, Mike nodded to me and said that I was going to do well.  I hadn't fallen in love, I was just determined to make the next pieces even better.  That is something that I have carried with me in life and in writing.  Don't fall in love with too much, things change too quickly.  Don't get attached to your first draft or even the one that you turn in, someone will go after it with a red pen eventually.  Those red marks can tear out your heart or teach you to do better.  And if all else fails, throw the story out and start again with a fresh page and new story.  

Sometimes, pottery pieces and stories just aren't worth fixing.  The trick is to know the difference.

 

Coming down off the mountain with a crash and a whimper

The conference was, if I look at it objectively, wonderful.  I learned a lot.  From the advice of a woman that I greatly admire to the very concrete knowledge of where I want to go.  I will not accept less, even if the road is longer and harder than the alternative.  But, daaaamn, you would think that I would have gained a little freaking bit of good karma by now.  (Which seemed to be in effect at my pitch meeting, but today I have indulged in many self derogatory thoughts - chief among them being that my successful pitch was an awesome fluke.)

So, because today was a mucky mire of depression and utter conviction that I am not good enough and will never be good enough for where I want to be in five years- let's just talk about the crown jewel of what I want.  Because I need to remember where I want to be and work for it.  

Within five years I want to be signing books at ComicCon.  There,  simple as that.  If I could be next to Marjorie M. Liu, who rocks, then all the better.  Sprinkle on top for both of us- a Whedon sighting.  Now, truth be told, Whedon will probably actually talk to Ms. Liu before I ever have a chance to take his picture from across a crowded room, but still.... I wanna see him too.  

And that, my friends, is one of the coolest things to come out of this weekend for me.  I do not write Paranormal Romance, I write Urban Fantasy.  This was a complete and utter shock to me because the only Urban Fantasy that I had ever read was Hunter Kiss, a book completely different from mine.  But, after having the difference explained to me,  I see that I do write Urban Fiction.  That feeds my personality, tastes and where I want to go more than Romance ever could.  Plus, there is the added bonus of not having Romance in the name.  Please, don't get me wrong, I loves me some romance- but for me the term is so girly.  (Plus I'm not real comfortable writing sex scenes.)  My friends, who are totally girly but know that I'm not, laugh when I mention writing romance.  Not only does the term Urban Fantasy keep my artsy non-girly street cred, but it makes me more eligible for ComicCon.  

So this is something that I need to keep in mind.  As I hate what I write and feel unworthy, I need to use that energy to improve.  Someday I will rock writing.  But I will always need to keep rocking the parenting of two kids and being a wife first.  Not everyone needs to balance those, but then again- not everyone has an awesome spouse who supports them in the fight for a Comicon table.  But I do, I totally have one- and I love him   So I need to keep all of this in mind and make it my battle cry.  I will own my life and I will make it count, in marriage, parenting and writing.  

Rock on, me! 

Misty eyed homecoming.

Many great things happened this last weekend.  I drove home dancing to music while driving and grinning like a mad woman.

When we got home, we were greeted by two happy cats and one cheerful dog.  Exhausted, I set down my backpack and walked to the living room- to find it covered in more explosive diarrhea than I have seen in one place since my teching days.  

*sob* It's just so good to be home!  *sob*

Please enjoy this Kodak moment of my dog, hubby and son in a non-intestinal meltdown moment.  

Overload!

Short post - I forgot my power cord for my laptop. 

To sum up on two minutes:  Awesomeness abounded.  Marjorie M. Liu is even cooler than I had dreamed.  There are niches in the romance market that I was unaware of - 'nuf said.  I can survive on much less sleep than I would have thought.  Conferences are rarely introvert friendly.  I made soooo many newbie mistakes and hope that not too many people noticed.  The trip was a success writing wise because two editors want a partial and synopsis.  I need to pursue an agent.  There is no bounds to my nervous energy in the face of my author heros.  Last, but not least- always bring your power cord.

The picture is for Marjorie.  You rock.  Seriously.  : )

Holy shidoodoo, I did it!

The book is done.  My first novel written in less than two weeks.  Just under twenty eight thousand words.  It's a wonderful feeling and yet I am so tired that I don't feel the rush that I had been expecting.  I feel shocked.  I feel a glimmer of pride.  I feel trepidation that it will not be liked or sold.  But mostly, I feel like going to bed.

I..will... do.. this!

It's 10:22pm and I am settling in to finish my book. I believe there are only about two to three chapters left and I will not sleep until they are done!  My fingers are clumsy and achey, my back hurts and all I want to do is not type for a looong time.  But victory will be mine!  Anyone who reads this may not fall in love with it, but they will see potential, dammit!

After a rousing finish tonight, I will get some sleep and edit tomorrow.  Friday will be for a final read/edit and then print.  We need to leave for Cinci by about one or two o'clock and I have a thing with my son's school in the morning.  I need to finish tonight and so I shall!

Spoon!

Day three, or two - depending on how you look at it.

I want to finish this by Thursday so that Friday I can print and pack.  After all, it starts Friday evening.  So in my head, I have two days left.  Not much time, but I remain hopeful.  Right now things are flowing well but my aching shoulders, elbows and wrists are tired of typing.  I'm spending as much time backspacing to correct myself as I am writing.  Not very efficient.

But my hubby is still acting as babysitting and cheerleader - bless his little pea pickin' heart.  Tomorrow I'm going to lose several hours to a field trip with my son and I need all of the cheerleading that I can get.  It it reeeeally tempting right now to say that I did my best, but I'm too new at this to produce something decent so fast.  But I won't.  I will instead take some more Advil and soldier on.  Because this is me paying my dues.  Hopefully, it will end with a decent reward - like an agent that I like.  

Bland heros and epiphanies.

Okay, yesterday was a total bust.  I finished a chapter in the morning, but didn't get another thing written.  Even when I went to two different places to try to kick my brain into gear!  I think that I was too tired or something.  Plus, almost three hours of my afternoon were taken up by taking my son to the Urgent Care.  Luckily, nothing was broken - but what a time suck.  Maybe if I had been able to nap in that time then I would have been able to write later.

Oh well, can't go back.  I can, however, feel like a loser because I don't know what happens next in my book.  At all.  Stephan King, in his amazing book On Writing, said to get to know your characters and then give them a challenge - they'll tell you what happens.  Usually that's how I operate, but this time I started with a scene in my head.  A woman wakes up screaming from nightmares of blood and death, she has spent her entire life trying to keep them under control and in her adult years has turned to street drugs.  Her dreams are actually a power that she is unaware of and she has never had anyone to guide her - she was abandoned at birth.  I had a vague notion that bad people with bad ideas find out about her and come for her, man comes to help rescue, they are mates, yadda yadda yadda.  

That was where it all began and now it has turned into a mess.  I don't know or understand my hero character - he's an icon.  I barely like him, he's a dominant male beefcake.  The story is falling apart because I don't like him or want her to be with him.  I want her to be with the drug dealer.  He's flawed, weak and broken.  But I think that under it all, when the big moment comes, that he will pull through.  

Okay.  Wow.

I sometimes find that I realize how I really feel about something when I'm explaining it to someone else.  Right now, I think I just had one of those moments.  How it escaped me I will never know.  Rookie mistake.  But I think that I have hours of rewrites ahead of me.  And a much better book than I had feared.

Nice.