Falling in love with a new voice

Starting this post off with a weird admission:

I've never fallen in love.

I've grown to love many people, but I've never experienced that thing people talk about, an instant connection of sorts, a hyper-awareness, an overwhelming desire to be with/around that person (we use the word 'fall' for a reason) whether you consider that to be mix of chemicals flooding through the brain or something more*. People write books about falling in love, they compose music and paint and do all sorts of creative outpourings to define or explain it.

And since I've never experienced it, that's probably why the stories I gravitate towards tend to focus on family and friend relationships. Or... weird relationships that don't cleanly fit into a neat 'love' box.

(those are my favourite)

BUT: a new voice? A new character? A new story? That is the closest feeling I can imagine to the thing people talk about: an instant and all-consuming desire, a scary sensation like teetering on a ledge and unsure whether to take a hasty step back, or lean forward and commit to the fall.**

This is why, in any new story, the first 10,000 words are always the easiest for me to write. It's the 'falling stage' where I don't have to do anything in particular, just relax into the voice and let it happen. After that is when I have to shake my head out of the fog of entrancement and think about the darn thing. Think, where is this going? Am I in this for the long-haul? ...and a few less-love/relationshipy-questions like: How can I break this character's shell of safety/control?

If you stalk me on twitter you may already know that I've fallen... and this one, oh man, this is a hard & fast fall.

...and it's unusually scary because this MS is all about love...

(but of course nothing that fits cleanly into an easily defined box. I may have stomped that box flat on page 3)

This MS is going to be messy. It's already messy and I don't quite know what it's about yet. I apologize to my CPs/writing buddies in advance because, well, I'm going to be messy & you're going to have to deal with me*** I'm afraid and excited and annoyed and... and swinging from 'what the hell am I doing, I should throw my laptop out the window' to 'oh my goodness, this is the best feeling ever and I never want to stop'.****

(I'm never this messy... so get ready for a lot of apologies, and maybe some outright bribes)

...also, I think I broke a piece of my brain on page 11 and I'm not sure how I'll recover...

(y'know that box I stomped flat on page 3? I may have folded it into an origami bird and set it on fire)

So, since I'm already rocketing head-first towards the sidewalk, this is now officially Project #8 and it currently has no title other than a self-mocking one:

"I Never Intended to Write a Love Story"

(all my titles change after I finish the first draft and figure out what the heck I was trying to write, but until then, I need something temporary to save/organize it)

When I'm closer to 20,000 words I'll probably know enough to write a short blurb & throw it up onto my website, but I'm still in that 'falling' stage and can't quite shake my head clear enough to think about character/plot arcs or even try to take that stomped-flat box and attempt to glue it into some semblance of a recognizable shape...

Oh no, wait, I set fire to it already, didn't I? So maybe I need to build a new box to put this in...



What I'm working with so far:

The problems that arise when someone has too much empathy

Shakespeare references

Something that resembles a love-triangle, but it's, uh, I really have no idea what the hell it actually is, but it's definitely not a love-triangle. Or maybe it is. Really, I don't know yet, but not an equilateral triangle for sure.*****

A character named Huntyr (yes, with a 'y', mostly so I can make a joke about it -> maybe not on the page, but for sure in my head)

Small children at a pool

Parents who are living/involved/actually show up on the page (I know, crazy, right?)

The gloriousness of minimum-wage jobs

Also: CPR saves lives. This might be important, but not in an obvious way considering I already mentioned a pool & small children



What's not in there (yet?):

A nausea-inducing vomit reference (there is one, but since it involves a mini-van I'm not counting it)

A character with a name beginning with 'J' (can I finally break this weird J-name streak?) ...and now there is one...

A cat reference



Also I'm pleased I only had to write about 8,000 words before figuring out my MC's name :)

(but I might change it because it's a Shakespeare thing and this is not a re-telling and I don't want to set up the impression it IS a re-telling... or I might be overthinking this too much and need to dunk my head in a bucket of cold water before my brain overheats & shuts down)




* Although I do have really good instincts about whether I'm compatible with someone, generally within moments of meeting them, but that is different from the 'love' thing.

** I'm like this with reading too... there's something amazing about opening a new book and falling in so deep you shake yourself awake & realize a couple hours have passed.

*** seriously, guys... no matter how annoying I am, please don't tell me I'm pretty if this story is the literary equivalent of a turquoise mumu that makes my ass look as wide as Texas...

**** I think I might be craving this messiness after coming out of edits on TRoRS which has such an emotionally stunted MC. My writing-brain now wants to run around in circles screaming like a hyper-active toddler in the candy aisle.

***** I know, I sound super confident about this, don't I? Told you this story is messy...

So, I owe someone a post about 'control'...

...and boy, has this post been kicking my ass...

I've never spent so much time writing and re-writing a single blog post before... On-and-off I've been working on this since the middle of January, and this is the 5th time I've completely deleted/re-written everything because there are a lot of angles I could come at this from, and none of them really worked.

BUT, I promised someone I'd write this and I don't like breaking promises, so here it is.

In the end, I think this is the best I can do, and I'm also going to apologize in advance because I switch between 'voices' in this post, from my 'casual voice' to my 'nerdy post voice', which is going to make it feel choppy, but I hope the thought process flows in a logical-enough way that it's easy to follow.


This isn't intended to be just a writing-related post, this is more of a lifestyle thing, a state of mind I continually work towards, and that's one of the reasons I found this so difficult to write... combining how I see/understand the world with the world of writing.

And, as always, this is 100% opinion, right? And yes, I believe in the fluidity of growing/changing opinions. This is what I believe today, while writing this, but tomorrow or next week, these thoughts may evolve in a new direction.


So, what's my deal with control? I'm kindof obsessed with it, especially when writing characters. One of the first thing I figure out is, what they have control over, what they don't, how they deal with both sides, and what coping mechanisms they might have.

Strangely enough, thinking about control so much doesn't make me a control-freak...

It's actually the opposite. Understanding control is why I joke about being so 'zen' and how I'm always looking for the silver-lining, because the thing with control is, we have way less of it than we think, and by accepting that, it's easier to focus on the 1% we do have control over and not stress about the other 99%.


And, think about it. As a writer, what do we have control over?


Words on the page.

And very little else.



A while ago I posted a somewhat nerdy series about the difference between risk and uncertainty which, at its heart, is really about how little control we actually have because our lives are filled with uncertainty, even though we want to pretend that uncertainly doesn't exist.

You don't need to re-read that linked post (or the entire series of posts that follows it), but I'm assuming you remember the difference between risk & uncertainty, so here's the jumping off point:


By definition, you can't plan/manage/expect uncertainty, so rationalizing and blaming others isn't helpful. They are both self-comforting mechanisms to convince yourself that you have more control than you really do. Being out of control is scary, and usually that makes people panic and get angry.


The idea I want to start with is that we get scared when things are out of our control, but I also think part of that is because there's this false idea floating around telling us that, to be successful, we must have active control over as much as possible. We tell ourselves and we tell others that, if we failed, it's because we didn't work hard enough, or we weren't talented enough. We're so completely terrified of things being out of control that we pretend that uncertainty doesn't exist, so if something goes wrong, it must be someone's fault.

But that's a load of BS.

If we can first recognize that uncertainty is a reality, accept that much of what affects us is completely out of our control, and that there's an innate impulse to blame others or rationalize when we feel out of control/scared, we can try to stop this bad behaviour before it starts.

Because blaming someone else for something they have no control over is just as bad.

It's only when we stop reacting that we have the ability to learn, to transform 'uncertainty' into 'risk', and if it's a 'risk', that means we can act rather than react.

So, what started me on this obsession with control that zenned-me-out?

Haha. Yup, dyslexia.

A learning disorder doesn't necessarily make you blame others, but it can make you blame yourself, which is probably more damaging in the long term. When I was younger I didn't know what dyslexia was, so when I couldn't keep up with my classmates or made absurd mistakes, I was afraid because, no matter how hard I worked, I couldn't gain control and stop making those mistakes. When given a test that didn't "work" for my brain, my teachers thought I was lazy or rebellious because I would score perfectly on other tests and because I have a pretty high IQ.

(seriously, you do not want to look at my high-school Math or French grades... and I started, and transferred out of, Chemistry 11 three times)

I think if I did poorly on every test, in every subject, it would have been easier. I would have just accepted I was stupid and quit trying so hard.

...but it was those success-highs interspersed with the failure-lows that drove me crazy because it made that simple, easy answer illogical, and therefore impossible to accept... how could I be both stupid and smart at the same time?

And because I never actually got a proper answer, I don't think I ever stopped trying to figure it out, and I think that's kinda what saved me.

Somewhere within the suffocating frustration, despite the crippling and relentless kicks to my fragile ego, I got really bad at giving up and really good at testing/pushing my limits, and from there, I learned to give myself permission to fail when I recognized something was out of my control.

(like Math, Chemistry, and French...)

The hardest thing for me to accept was the fact that hard work doesn't equate success because that's always the lesson we get from the time we're children. We're told to work harder and our failures are usually blamed on us not working hard enough. From a young age, we have it pounded into our heads that we should have control over our successes and failures. We are taught that uncertainty doesn't exist just as several hundred years ago we were taught that the earth is flat.

So, first I had to un-learn that load of BS.

Then I had to learn that someone else's perception of my successes & failures didn't mean squat. I was the only one who could (somewhat) objectively determine whether I was being lazy or whether I was trying my hardest.

And I had to accept this:

If we can’t tell the difference between risk and uncertainty, we aren’t able to adapt or make choices that will position us to adapt in the future. In other words, we are more likely to rationalize/blame others instead of accepting that uncertainly is a reality which happens to everyone.

If we believe it's someone else's fault, it'll remain an 'uncertainty' for us instead of a 'risk' we could manage better in the future. So we're less likely to learn from it and less likely to anticipate a similar situation happening in the future. History repeats itself, yes?

(from this post)

Really, we have very little control over what happens in the world, even what happens to us directly, but another thing we do have control over is our attitude. If we refuse to accept that uncertainty exists, we'll continue to get angry, frustrated, blame others, or rationalize. That's the same as hitting a wall, falling over, getting back up and doing it all over again. We are not learning from our mistakes, we are not looking to better position ourselves for the future so we don't hit the same wall and fall down again in the exact same way. If we only focus on what went wrong, we don't look for what could go right if we made a few adjustments to our strategy.

For me, adapting meant creating a lot of work-arounds and accepting that I had to ask for help when, for example, I couldn't read a teacher's handwriting on the board. I think this probably makes it easier for me to accept criticism of my work because I know all too well that I'm fallible, I understand there's no such thing as perfection, and I've learned to put aside my ego and ask for help when I need it.

And that's a really hard thing to do... be honest about our failures.

(but I already wrote a post about that :p)

I try to keep this in mind with every aspect of my life, but let's keep to the particular example I've been using: my dyslexia. I'm 'zen' about it because I accept that the larger issue, the learning disability, is firmly out of my control. Just like I can't control the weather, I can't control gravity, heck, half the time I can't even control my beagle!

So, what am I going do, worry about it all the time? What does that accomplish? All that would do is stress me out and make me feel like a failure over something I logically have no control over.

(so, exactly like being back in elementary/high school again...)

Should I also feel like a failure because I can't control gravity?

Another thing I learned was, when you're stressed about everything that is out of your control, that's when you get overwhelmed with negative thoughts/feelings and flounder. That's when it's easy to blame someone else or rationalize the situation, to try to push a little responsibility onto someone else's shoulders.

...but that goes back to the 'reacting' vs 'acting' thing again. Unless we first accept that uncertainty is a reality that happens to everyone, we can't let it go. We can't look at a situation, step back and ask, "can I realistically do something about this or not?" ...and 'if not', let it go.

So, I'm not worried anymore about gravity or about being dyslexic. Well, not most of the time at least. I endeavour to only worry about the things I can actually control and focus my energy there. Of course, this is not a fixed decision. It's easy to say, but in practice it's about asking myself every day, about a million large and small things, "can I actually do something about this or not?" ...and if it's a big/complicated thing, ask: "if I break this into smaller pieces, can I do something about one single piece?"

...and when I can't, it's about doing my best not to hang onto it and the frustration I might feel at not being able to fix/change whatever it might be. It's about reminding myself that there's only 1% that I have control over, so I shouldn't waste my energy on the other 99%.

It's a state of mind that you have to 'actively' choose until it becomes second nature.

(like driving stick shift)

I think a healthy life is about managing your own expectations for yourself, learning and testing your own limits, and being honest about those expectations and limits, both with yourself, and with the people you live and work with.

And winding back around to the whole writing thing, yes we have control over our words, but we have absolutely no control over what other people think when they read our words.

We write our first draft, but we have no control over what our beta readers/critique partners think about it. If we don't accept it's out of our control, it would be easy to get angry, it would be easy to blame those readers and say, "you just don't understand".

But is that helpful? Is it really the reader's fault if they don't get what we're trying to say?

No. When you blame someone else, you push the responsibility onto them. You willfully give up a fraction of that 1% you DO have control over.

(seriously, why does anyone drive automatic when they could drive stick?)

So what we can do is step back and try to ask intelligent questions like, "what didn't you understand and why?" We have to take the attitude that, if something isn't coming across on the page, it's because our words aren't clear enough. And then we have to re-write, re-write, and re-write again until our readers understand what we're trying to say. That's on us, as writers. That's all we have control over: the words on the page.

And I think the same is probably true at all levels of publishing.

We have no control whether an agent will like/connect to our query letters, but we can re-write our words until they are as clean and clear as possible, get others to read them and ask, "what didn't you understand and why?" The same with editors, and again, with readers if our books ever hit the shelves. We have no control over what they think. That's the 99%. Our 1% is the next book we write.

And in the end, we have to accept that hard work doesn't equate success. Not everyone is going to understand what we tried to put on the page and not everyone is going to love it.

(...and I don't know about you, but I certainly wouldn't want to be one of those authors who feels the need to 'explain' to readers who 'didn't get it'...)


So, part of the reason I re-wrote this post so many times is because this is a really hard topic for me to talk about seriously. It's much easier to joke about the dyslexia thing, but in all honesty, it's something that I'm still learning to be okay with, still learning to accept that some people are going to assume I'm lazy or stupid if I make mistakes that appear silly, and yeah, that assumption still hurts.

Knowing that people are going to wander onto my blog, or into my twitter feed, and leap to that conclusion without all the facts, yeah, that's an ongoing struggle.

But that's one of the main reasons I started blogging in the first place and why I (finally) got a twitter account, because the more I'm honest about it, the more mistakes I make, and the more eyes that see those mistakes, the less stressed I'm going to be. It's going to be less 'uncertainty' and more 'risk', because with experience, I can learn to manage my reactions and adapt.

One of my online writing buddies recently told me that I always sound so calm in my emails and blog posts, that it seems like nothing really bothers me, and I kinda laughed... because yeah, I have the ability to edit blog posts and emails. I can go back and correct my wording, clean up my sentences, and erase as many mistakes as I can before sending it out into the world.

And maybe there's something inherently dishonest about that... editing words so that I give the impression of being calmer and more in control than I really am.

But there's something honest about it too. First drafts are known to be messy and ugly, but editing is about finding that core of beauty, the heart of the story, and pruning away the excess.

I am okay with admitting my words need pruning, perhaps a little more than others, because that's where my control ends -> with the words I put out there, so I should take the time to try to make them as clean, as clear, and as honest as possible.

Your impression of them, and of me, is your own.


And I'll admit that some of these blog posts are a way of taking a storm of thoughts and trying to distill them into a teacup, to make an idea more manageable for myself. Even though I think about control a lot, in writing and in my daily life, I still found it a struggle to turn those thoughts into a coherent blog post, and I don't think I entirely succeeded today...

BUT, I did my best. I kept my promise.

Sorry if it's messy & ugly, but that's just the way I am ;)

The familiar start-stop of first drafting

I think most writers are familiar with spots in a first draft where writing flows easily, and where it feels like you've taken a nude-dive into a patch of cacti and now have the tweezer-assisted task of removing each and every one of those prickly spines.

(uhm, yeah. sorry about that visual...)

Beginnings are like... well, they're the most effortless part of writing for me. I get caught up in a new voice and race forward, just exploring the fun, new perspective and problems I've landed myself in. Usually I get to around the 20,000-30,000 word mark before I start to stutter...

...and the place I always get stuck is somewhere between the 2/3 and 3/4 point...

That's where I am at the moment in AotD -> face-down, spread-eagle in the Ferocactus patch.

I think I've only written about 1,000 words in the last two weeks, so of course I feel like a horrible slacker who is in dire need of serious self-flagellation to get back on track :)

...but at the same time, this is familiar, I've done it before, so I know I'll eventually puzzle through it.

And I know why I always get stuck at this same point.

(somehow, that's the frustrating part. that I understand it, but still can't overcome it. I just have to let it work itself out in its own time.)


I get stuck here because I'm not a plotter.

And no, the reason I'm stuck isn't because I don't know how the story is going to end.

(I don't think I would keep writing a story if I knew how it would end. that's 99% of the joy, writing to discover what happens!)

The reason I get stuck is because my stories are always driven by character, not plot.

So it's when I can't grasp a character's motivation/emotions/etc that I get stuck, because it's their decisions or reactions that determine how the next scene will play out.

For most of the story, I'm just running after the main characters, only concerned about what they want and how they think/feel, but at that 2/3 -> 3/4 point, my brain jumps in and goes, "hang on, what about everyone else? What about all the other characters who have a role in the climax/ending? What do they want and what have they been thinking/feeling this whole time?"

...which is suddenly overwhelming to realize that I know nothing about the characters who instigated this whole thing in the first place...

(but duh, this is familiar, this happens in every first draft... so why do I still feel surprised?) 

...and, my poor little dyslexic brain overheats and shuts down.

Yeah. So, Sikka & Komil & Mica & Selka, the four characters I've been running after, they're good. I know what they all want and how they're thinking/feeling...

But Issa? And the mysterious god/monster who spirited her away at the beginning of the story?

Uuuuuuuuuuuhm, yeah. Drawing a complete and total blank, kinda like the blue screen of death.

/force reboot

/force reboot

/force reboot...


The logical part of my brain tries to slap some sense into me and says, "uhm, idiot, you don't need to know that until you get there, so let it go and focus on the scene you're currently writing..."


But unfortunately that's easily said and not so easily done. The 'letting it go' part.

...I think it's a similar impulse to wanting to flip to the last page of a really intense book to see if your favourite character is still alive...

My brain wants to skip ahead, even though that's not how it works... because if I knew how the story ended, I would lose the enthusiasm to write and 'find' the end...

Contradictory, yes. Mildly frustrating, yes. Somewhat hilarious, yes.

Because I always take great joy in laughing at myself and I welcome others to join in on the fun :)


SOOOOOOOOO...

/removes cactus spine from unmentionable location...


Yeah. I've got a mountain, a hot-spring, a drop-spindle, and a mysterious line about 'stars'...

Those I need to write before I get to Issa & the god/monster...


...and I really can't skip ahead because this is the first book I've written where I'm not even sure who'll be alive on the final page...

And would I really want to finish this story if I knew, say, Selka bites it on the final page?


O_o


No. I might cry. A lot.


(it's no secret that I am completely obsessed with Selka...)

/removes anther cactus spine

Well, let's see how this goes :) I think I may take off to my favourite Fort Langley cafe tomorrow to drink raspberry black tea and hope the change in scenery will kick my stubborn brain back onto the right path so I can find out what the heck is going to happen in the end...

The nice part is, I've been reading a crazy amount of books while not-writing :)



How about you guys? Are there certain parts of a story you find you get stuck at, and other places where it's easy?  Any tricks that work for you?

...or am I living in this strange, vaguely disturbing world all on my own?

Happy 2016!

I know, I know, I'm a week late :)

Forgive me?

My right arm (the more dominant one) has been slightly 'out' of the rotary cuff for approximately 7 weeks, which makes typing quite painful, so I've been limiting my computering (yes, that is totally a word in my dictionary :p) to the essentials.

AAAAAAAAND, since my last post, there's been a lot of essential computering :)

Today/this weekend I'm hoping to finish the last fiddly bits of editing (3rd round! So fun!) on TRoRS before it's "done".

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that... like, one small part of my brain tells me, "hey, this is a big deal, you should be freaking out or jumping around or something..." and the rest of my brain goes, "yeah, but SELKA & SIKKA, and JAY & KELL, and... and... and OTHER STORIES THAT I WANT TO WRITE!!!!!"

...and then I start watching documentaries on the Arctic Circle and make notes on things like white sturgeons* and the hibernation cycle of ground squirrels...

...Oh yeah, I have managed to restrain myself from starting the story that is not a story yet. It's still locked in a small corner of my brain because it will take a CRAZY amount of research so I can get things right and not piss anyone off.

(The 'shoe' story)

...and I'm not sure if 'the shoe story' would be considered YA because it does involve the world history of alcohol...

I am absolutely going to finish 'Afraid of the Dark' & 'Scarlight' before I start anything new. And, I would LIKE to re-work/finish the MG story I started writing, 'Left & Right'. I stopped because I wasn't confident that the voice of it was MG, but this year I've read several really excellent MG books written in a slightly more mature voice which gives me a boost of confidence that I can pull this off.

Other things I've been up to... Oh, I donated my hair again! Last time was 2 years ago, so.... yeah, I did link a picture here. One of the very few pictures of me online... Generally, when it's cut off, it looks similar to that linked picture. Longer at the front, about 1-2" long at the back, (because they pull it into a ponytail, tie it off, and then cut, so you get a reverse-bob) but THIS time, my usual stylist was out of town and... let's just say, I am NOT inclined to post a picture until it grows out. When it's straight, it looks suspiciously... mushroom-shaped... so I've been letting it just go all crazy/curly, and the first thing my nephew said was... that I look like a sheep.

Nice thing is, I have a large collection of hats I can hide it under ;)

Best part about short hair? It looks insane in the morning! Like, I stayed at my parent's place Christmas Eve and everyone started killing themselves laughing when I walked into the kitchen on Christmas morning... it defies gravity and I kinda love that :p

So, other exciting things for 2016?

Hmmmm, I'm planning a trip to Montreal at the end of May (which might now involve meeting an online writing buddy for the first time ever!!!). The next internationally-attended PAC (Porcelain Artists of Canada) Convention is there, and thankfully, since it's on the other side of the country, I have not been involved with the planning/running of the convention :) If you recall, the 2014 convention that was in Vancouver pretty much sucked up a year of my time since I started out JUST handling all the registrations, then got asked to handle more and more responsibilities until I ended up as Vice-Chair. It was fun, I enjoyed it, but I didn't get to see any of the workshops because I was running around the whole time.

And speaking of PAC, and responsibilities, something similar has happened in that, after the 2014 convention, I got asked to help out with the photoshop work for the magazine, which snowballed into doing ALL the photoshopping, then taking care of the national website, and now I'm the Membership Director for the 2016-2018 term, which means I'm in charge of all the Provincial & International reps and handle all the membership stuff that they send me and compile/organize it all.

It's fun, I like the work, but I do need to learn to say 'no'. I'm probably just going to take on the position for the one term so I can re-do all the old forms/organizational stuff that they've been using for years, and set up a PayPal account so it's easier for International members to pay, 'cause right now, it's all done by cheque.

Generally, that's what I'm good at. Taking things apart and making them more efficient. It's a dyslexic-advantage ;)

...and probably why I often get asked to help on various projects like that.

(all joking aside, it's really flattering that they like me, and the work I do, to this extent)


Hmmmm, I was going to post something on my Bailiwick site when I got my new place all done/organized, and haven't done that yet because I've decided I want to do some more renovations. Some I'm going to do myself... like, I'm going to put stone around the fireplace, and all the way up to the ceiling. As part of that project, I am going to visit this place and get some cool wood to build shelving, and maybe rip out the existing tiled mantle & put wood there. Or I might do some framing/drywalling first... we'll see.

I also want to build a.... very unique lighting system/design feature that's going to involve cutting down a couple small trees on my parents' property (yes, I have permission, this won't be something I do under cover of darkness). I have thoughts on the actual lights too... remember how I played with coating actual maple leaves in resin? They were meant to be throw-away experiments, but 2 years later, the leaves haven't rotted and still hold their green colour. Anyways... let's just say resin & paper & leaves might play a part in the design for the lights ;) Oh, and maybe origami? We'll see :) Experimentation is the spice of life :)

One reno I may hire-out for is, I eventually want to remove the crappy laminate flooring from the ground floor AND the carpet from the upstairs and I'm thinking about a heated resin floor for the ground level, and that's not something I can put in myself. I know, I've researched it ;)

But, that's a design-choice I'm not 100% sure if I like or not. Would love an excuse to rip out the existing baseboard heaters because I wouldn't need them with in-floor heating, and it's super durable (with my crazy beagle tearing around) and it's super clean/modern... but maybe TOO clean/modern. I may go the opposite direction and put in distressed hardwood flooring, which I could do myself.


And a couple smaller things, I'm planning at least one snowboarding trip (end of Feb), and will definitely be up at the cabin as soon as possible... maybe late March, early April (yes, yes, I WILL avoid accidentally-on-purpose giving myself hypothermia again) because it's my absolutely favourite place in the world to write :)


So, those are a few things I'm excited about in this coming year :) How about you guys?



* By the way, there's kindof a funny white sturgeon thing... Another story idea that is not yet a story involves a white sturgeon, and a white sturgeon shows up (briefly) in AotD... so a writing buddy of mine joked that I should write "The Great Sturgeon Tales"... maybe do another one set in South America or something.

...so, kinda like how a character with a 'J' name always shows up in my stories... or vomit jokes... or cat references... or... or... uhh, yeah. I will seriously not start putting white sturgeons in all my stories, I promise.

A wonderful Friday the 13th

I've said it before, and I'll say it again... I love Friday the 13th, and here's my latest reason to love them:

Today, I signed on with Patricia Nelson of the Marsal Lyon Literary Agency.

Yes, that's right.

No, no need to check your calendars. This isn't an April Fools post.

Are you stunned? Yeah, me too. The past two weeks have been a little like living in a constant state of delirium (meant in a good way), and not only because I've been on antibiotics for a mild case of pneumonia.*

Soooooooo, the story?

You know how I like to obsess over 'spin' and over-analyze things to death, so I could tell this from several different angles.

Well, I've read a lot of other writer's stories and I've thought a lot about what I want/don't want to tell.


Theoretically, I could structure this story around how dyslexia has been a disadvantage, how a big part of me never felt I would ever be able to play in the professional's playground no matter how much work/time I put into this.

But I'm not interested in this being a triumph-over-adversity story, because, really, this is only the start of a new journey.

Or I could structure it around how dyslexia has been an advantage, has given me an odd way of looking at the world, more stamina, a thicker skin, and a willingness to keep hammering away at something, even if there's little chance I'll succeed.

But I'm also not interested in telling a don't-give-up-you'll-win-in-the-end story, because hard work doesn't always equate success.


I'm also not going to talk about how long I've been at this, how few/many queries/partial/fulls/rejections I've tallied up, mainly because I don't think any of that is important. All it does is invite comparison, and everyone has their own writing journey, their own obstacles, and their own decisions to make about what to put their energy into, and what demands and deserves their emotional/psychological focus.

...right, I did promise not to over-analyze...


Okay, so instead, I'm going to (hopefully) make you smile and (perhaps) laugh.

(which is usually AT me, yes? I am my own favourite target for humour)

And try to convey why I think this was a good fit, from my perspective.



In my previous post about SiWC 2015 I mentioned that, instead of using my agent pitch session to pitch, I used it to ask for a professional opinion on how to set up a particular query. Well, it did start out as a non-pitch-session, but then it somehow transmogrified into a pitch after getting onto the subject of my ungendered main character, N, in TRoRS.

And honestly, up until 15-20 minutes before the session, I was still debating whether to give my space to someone else -> I didn't want to waste an agent's time because I was not planning to pitch, and that's kinda what they're there for.

 But instead, I decided to be selfish and get my question answered.

(thank you, beloved local writing buddies, for pushing me to be selfish...)

...and wow, I'm certainly glad I did...

Patricia was delightful, enthusiastic, quick-witted, and friendly. Talk about an award-winning first impression.

(I should ask for pointers)

She asked for the full.

...I left, somewhat in shock. And I sent it after the conference. Actually, I waited an entire 2 days to send it.

(blame the shock)

And happily set it out of my mind. Thankfully, I've always been pretty zen about queries/requests/etc. Once I click 'send' on an email, I know I have no more control over it, so I focus on things I do have control over. I was not stressed, worried, or hopeful. I was only starting to get vaguely curious about the status of the fulls that had gone out in July. My brain was occupied with my Northern Fairytale, cannibalistic gods, and whether raw bone marrow would spread easily like soft butter, or would be more gelatinous, like cold jelly.**

So I was shocked (yet again) when barely 24 hours later she emailed, said she was halfway through, loved it so far, and wanted me to send sample chapters of other things I was working on.

(I mean, seriously... who reads that fast?)

After a little back-and-forth about what projects she was interested in seeing ugly-first-drafts of, I sent off the first 30 pages of two other stories.

...and 24 hours later...

...after running around in the dark at the dog park with Eva in 7C weather wearing a tank top, thin pants, and barefoot shoes (and most likely contracting pneumonia, or setting myself up to catch it soon after)...

...I got home and there was another email...

(seriously! who reads that fast?!?!)

...saying some of the nicest things I've ever had someone say about my writing... and asking to set up a phone conversation to chat.

(now do you understand why I say that I have been living in a state of delirium? I may also have double-checked the email address was legit as I was concerned that, if I replied, I would soon discover she was secretly a Nigerian princess who wanted to send me one million dollars just as soon as I passed along my social insurance number and banking information...)***

Okay what really happened is I closed my laptop. Like, snapped it shut and kinda tossed it onto the table -> there is now a dent in my coffee table. Then I sat on the sofa for a few minutes feeling like I was going to throw up. Then I re-read the email. Then I fed Eva and Berkeley (who were, of course, deeply offended that I had not immediately rushed to serve them dinner the moment I got home). And sat on the sofa for a while before re-reading the email yet again.

Thankfully, for all involved, I did not throw up.

(remember, I have a beagle. please don't imagine what she would have done with that...)****

Then I wrote back. And a couple hours later, I remembered to find something to eat for myself. Oh, and then took a hot shower since I was chilled right through and kinda soaking wet from running around the dog park in the dark, in the rain, and wearing inappropriately light clothing.*****

(yes, getting sick was entirely my own fault)

It was Thursday. I had send my MS on Tuesday.

We would talk Wednesday morning.

And we did.

Even though I barely had a voice at all because, at that point, I was quite terribly sick.

(well, I was at the tail end of the cold that turned into mild pneumonia. of course I wasn't really sick! okay, I admit I may have been in denial. like I admit it was fully my fault in the first place)


Now, beyond the awful-foghorn-croaky voice, I have no idea what I sounded like on the phone. More than once I've been accused of being a robot. Apparently, whenever I'm nervous or excited or upset or... whatever, I speak very calmly. Even when I laugh, it's nearly soundless.

(again, I need pointers on how to make a good first impression. people like to know you're excited...)



We ended the conversation with an agreement to talk on the 13th, adhering to the standard protocol: 7-to-10-painful-days-in-limbo where you email the other agents who have the full and give them time to weigh in or step aside.

...but I had already pretty much made up my mind because, honestly, I couldn't imagine how another agent could have felt like a better fit.

Without me even asking/prompting, Patricia had neatly ticked off every item on my theoretical "must have" list, and even a few on my "in a perfect world where I have a jetpack, a classic Shelby, the Seahawks are having a perfect season, and a comically-old-school-looking-robot-dressed-in-a-french-maid-uniform is in my kitchen prepared to cook/serve me gourmet food" list. Like, I know this is an insanely unimportant thing to wish for, but I've always (secretly) wanted an agent who is on the West Coast.

And San Diego? C'mon... it's like, the only city I could even imagine living, other than Vancouver or Seattle. Most people recognize me on the street because of the bright orange Padres baseball hat I wear while walking Eva.


Key on that list of "must haves":

- She absolutely did not want me to gender N (cue imaginary swooning scene right here.)

- Her absurdly fast response time. I'm absolutely neurotic about schedules/time. If I'm 10 minutes early for something, I'm still late. If I'm only going to be 5 minutes early, I'll call/text and let the person know I might be late. (Note: I don't expect others to be like this, it's a standard I hold for myself as I find it incredibly disrespectful to waste someone else's time. I'm more laid-back when it's someone else wasting my time... because usually I've already pre-scheduled for that.)

- She argued with me (YES!) And by that, I am not admitting to being a masochist. No, what I very much like, and admire in other people, is the willingness to stand by their convictions. We all come to the same problem with a different set of tools/experience/information, and I never like to enter into a discussion with the pre-formed opinion that I am right. In this particular case, she was right ;)

- Somewhat of a continuation of the last point, she asked questions about my characters/stories that I had never thought about, and offered several ideas about how to make the story richer/cleaner/clearer. Since I have that deeply-ingrained-belief that there's always going to be a problem I'll miss in my own writing, this gave me confidence that she would catch any dyslexic-blindspots, and not only at a copy-editing level, at a deeper, construction/structural level.

- She loves editing... and by that, I mean she isn't afraid to suggest big structural changes (shred it to bits and I'll thank you for it! ...wait, ahem, I am absolutely not admitting to being a masochist...). And I'm not too proud to confess I was very happy she doesn't think breaking the entire skeleton is necessary for TRoRS -> since I did spend a solid month last spring tearing apart and re-working that insane, non-linear timeline. I'm good with breaking/resetting a couple of limbs, the odd finger, and maybe a kneecap.

- Meeting with an agent in person is a rarity, so that was not a 'must have', but on my theoretical list was the necessity of a 'gut' feeling of compatibility. The good first impression from the not-a-pitch-turned-pitch was only reinforced by our conversation and by subsequent email/followup over the next week. I also talked to a couple of her other clients and didn't ask a lot of specific questions, merely listened to what they had been looking for in an agent, and how they had found working with Patricia. I was pleased that my 'gut' impression seemed to match their real-life experience.


And then there were many other small, lovely things that I would never have thought to put on a list, but was delighted that they came along as a package deal.


I told exactly six people (three of whom are direct blood relatives) during the 7-to-10-painful-days-in-limbo while waiting to hear back from the other agents who had fulls. I think it's probably a good thing I was sick or the impulse to tell more people might have overcome the deliciously-evil-fun of hoarding a good secret ;)

(I have a mastered quite the repertoire of maniacal laughs, each individually suited for other evil activities, delicious or otherwise)

Everyone else will be hearing about it today. When it's officially official.

(my brain may still clunk around for a while in mid-shock-mode, so a warning to those who have to interact with me in real life: if I suddenly palm-smack my forehead in the middle of a conversation with you, don't worry. I'm just trying to reboot)


I have to say that I love the humour of this happening on a Friday the 13th, since I do have well-crafted opinions about the idea of 'luck' (reminder: I dislike the concept of luck). And (surprisingly), with my mad-obsession with numbers, I didn't actually try to engineer it that way. Now, the only thing that would make it even better is if I happened to be her 13th client...

(spoiler: I'm not)

So, to everyone along the road (and yes, there have been many, many, many) who encouraged me, critiqued me, laughed with (at?) me, or otherwise tagged along so far on this (hopefully) amusing ride, thank you. I am... so incredibly happy to share this news with all of you. I have been extremely fortunate to fall in with such an amazing online (and in-real-life) community of writers. In all sincerity, thank you.

My heart is a little sad that one of my writing buddies, Sue Koenig, is not alive to read this post. In TRoRS, Triss's mom is Jewish because of Sue and her amazing New York accent, and no matter what I said, or what I thought, or how ambiguously I wrote, from the very beginning Sue firmly believed there was an intense f/f love-relationship between Triss & N, and heartily cheered it on.


...and as many wise people along the journey have said about this weird little manuscript, "it just has to find the right pair of eyes."

And I think that is the case.




Now... tell me... did I succeed in making you smile? Laugh?

(or possibly throw up a little in your mouth? I know, I know, referencing my dog was probably over the top)


Uhm, yeah. I don't really do 'heartwarming' or 'motivational' very well, do I? But I don't think any of you would have expected it, not from me :p

(bad grammar, yes... but heartwarming?)



Okay, this post is long enough, it's 9:42am, and I need to leave for physio at 9:45, so I'm going to end it here.

Have a wonderful weekend, all!




* Pneumonia is one of those strange things where, if you get it once, you've prone to getting it again. I had it pretty bad as a teenager, and I think this is now the third time since that I've caught it in the early stages.

** This is why I think I need pointers on how to make a better first impression. I have terribly inappropriate facts stored away in the 'small-talk-topics' file in my brain. Yes, I've actually used the 'substitute blood for eggs' in more than one conversation. And legitimately. Not to get someone annoying to go bother someone else.

*** Who doesn't like an old internet-scam joke?

**** And this fulfills the ongoing joke of how I always want a vomit reference to make the reader feel slightly queasy upon reading it. C'mon, tell me you didn't immediately imagine what I told you not to imagine...

***** Yeah. My fault. I fully admit it. This is kinda like when I was running on top of a split-wood fence and fell off. Or when I electrocuted myself. Or when I sortof-intentionally gave myself hypothermia by swimming in 14C lake water because I was curious to find out how quickly I would lose body heat and what that would feel like. Or... huh, I really have too many examples, don't I? Apparently, I have no sense of self-preservation. My tombstone will certainly read, "Curiosity killed her." Hopefully it doesn't also include the terms, "splat",  "poor eye-hand coordination", or "should have read the label before eating".