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 ;)

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".

SiWC after-musings

This was the third time I've gone to this conference, and while I shy away from claiming anything is 'the best', I think this is the year I got the most pure enjoyment out of the experience.


My first year, SiWC 2013, was so overwhelming that I don't think I retained a whole heck of a lot... other than the physical notes I took during the workshop and the ongoing friendship with a few local writers I met. So, thank goodness for my reasonably fast typing skills and the self-learned-tendency to talk to people I don't know ;)


I wasn't even going to go to SiWC 2014... for those who remember, I was still mired in mid-divorce-nastiness, and things had come to a pretty awful place. I was feeling exhausted, burned out, and with the stress of everything, had not written in quite a while. The only reason I went is because I won a free basic pass to the conference the previous year (serendipitous?) so I went in thinking it would be a good distraction. Yep, that was the height of my expectations. A good distraction.

...and I had an amazing time. I talked to way more people than I had the previous year (not so overwhelming when things are a little bit familiar), and I repeated my habit of finding the emptiest table in the dining room, sitting down, and starting a conversation with whoever was there. I also took a Master Class on story structure, with the absolutely delightful Eileen Cook, which has shaped the way I write in more ways than I can possibly explain.

I left the conference feeling like new energy had been breathed into one corner of my life, and it was enough to make me chase down some excellent help on the story I was completely frustrated with, TRoRS. I had sent out a very small batch of test queries, and the agents who read the full all came back with the same piece of feedback:

"This was a really hard decision for me, I love this story, but something's off with the tension that I can't quite put my finger on."

As a dyslexic writer, this confirmed the deeply ingrained, ever-present fear that there's (always) something wrong with my writing. Essentially, I was so incompetent that not even professionals could figure out what the heck was wrong with my MS.

And you all know I am weirdly optimistic and zen about the whole dyslexic thing, so that tells you something about my state of mind at that point.

Hence my going into the conference expecting a 'good distraction' at best.


The help I chased down several months after the conference was Eileen Cook. I hired her to edit TRoRS and... oh my goodness, it was worth it. Yes, there's a blurb from me on her website, and yes, if the topic of editing a frustrating story comes up in a conversation, her name tumbles out of my mouth soon after.

I wouldn't have met Eileen if I hadn't gone to SiWC 2014, and I probably would have dropped TRoRS into a virtual drawer and moved on. No, I would not have quit writing, never that, but I might have quit querying and stuck to writing for the sheer pleasure of it.


SiWC 2015 was a much different experience. A large part of it was just being more comfortable in a (now) familiar place, pulling out my inner-extrovert and talking to pretty much anyone I sat down next to.

Like the previous years, I tried to sit at tables where I didn't know anyone* (though I did end up at the same table near the bar for several dinners - the 'wine-fairy' visited, as it did last year - and will again next year), joined people hanging out on couches, and struck up conversations with those sitting beside me or standing in line.

I was... absolutely blown away and humbled by the number of people who remembered me from the previous year... one highlight being, as I sat in the lobby, someone walked by with a group of friends, noticed me, stopped dead and asked, "How terrible was it watching the Super Bowl last year?"

And the reason this was so surprising is that I wasn't wearing my fluorescent yellow Brasil ball cap (so bright it is visually offensive) like I did last year. People remembered me, not my (inappropriate?) choice of headwear.

(maybe it's the blonde fro that people remember? ...I try, people, but it does its own thing when it's this long...)

If I have any regrets about this conference, it's that I'm still reasonably new to twitter and have not gotten into the habit of exchanging info. I think it was only on the final night that it occurred to me (and, to be honest, was actually brought up by someone else at my table), so I wasn't able to build/maintain that point of connection with as many people as I would have liked to. Smarter people than me came armed with business cards... so maybe I will be better prepared next year.


...and things to look forward to at SiWC 2016?

Obviously, top of the list, is catching up with everyone I already have met, and talking to new people I haven't. This may include the three people who have now dubbed me: 'Damn Boobs' as my name tag kept getting caught/turned around and no one could ever read it. And we were in the bar. Which somehow made the whole thing funnier.

My volunteer-stint as an early-morning airport shuttle on Sunday & Monday morning went really well... and a few of those I dropped off claimed they will ask for me again next year ;)

(it IS the car, people... not my winning personality)

And that would be really fun, to shuttle people around again. So I will probably volunteer for that early-morning shift that no one else ever wants. I love driving, it's rarely ever a hardship. Though I was pretty sleepy during the Sunday workshops...


Signing up for as many Blue Pencil sessions** I can get into, as usual.


Also, the wine-fairy will be visiting the table closest to the bar... (just sayin...)



Honestly, so many good things happened at the conference this year that I could go on for ages, but that would convey very little of the fun/laid-back atmosphere of the SiWC, and the kind & generous volunteers who keep it running smoothly.

As with every year so far, I'm glad I went, and am looking forward to next year.




* Even though I would define myself as an introvert, I am generally quick to start conversations with other/new people. I like asking questions and hearing about the good things in other people's lives because you pass on your mood - good or bad. Comes back to one of my rules of life: always smile first. So, for example, even though I went into SiWC 2014 feeling very tired and discouraged, I was not going to pass that on. Instead, I was going to focus on the good energy of other people and what was going right for them.

** The Blue Pencil sessions are handled by writers and editors who volunteer their time to read your first couple of pages and make comments. Everyone seems to fight over the extra Pitch*** sessions (where you can pitch an agent or editor), but I really like signing up for more Blue Pencil slots, not just only from those who write/read YA, but from a range of writing backgrounds. It's always so interesting to see how different the comments are.

*** Last year I didn't go to a Pitch session, I gave away my time slot to someone else. This year I did use my slot, but I didn't sign up for any others. I used it, not to pitch, but to ask for a professional's opinion on a certain question I had, which was incredibly helpful, and I got an interesting book recommendation out of it that I am going to read very soon.

SiWC 2015

Well, it's that time of year...

Surrey International Writing Conference begins today for those taking Masters Classes, and tomorrow for those who aren't.

I'm going again this year and, like the last two years, I will post my notes online for y'all.

Wish I could give you the heads-up as to all the presenters/etc, but with the craziness of house-hunting, packing, moving, unpacking, and the magazine deadline, I honestly haven't even skimmed through the website to see what's going on.

One new thing this year, they put out a desperate call for early-morning driving volunteers a couple days ago... seems no one wanted to get up at 6am to pick presenters up at the hotel, then drive them to the airport...

...and y'know I'll take any excuse to drive, right?

So now I'm an early-morning-shuttle-service :) Feels nice to help out and give back since I've enjoyed the last two conferences so much, and such a huge part of the experience is all the volunteers.

And, amusingly enough, who I'm picking up and when is about the only thing I know for sure about the conference at this moment :)

Am looking forward to checking in tomorrow morning and browsing through all the possibilities :)

For now, gotta corral the pets! Eva needs her morning walkies and Berkeley is scratching at the door waiting for me to put him in his harness and tie him up outside.

Yes, my cat is used to being tied up. He's basically a house cat, and since he's a rescue, he's so aggressive/territorial, he WOULD go out looking for a fight if he had the chance. And not just with other cats... he would go after dogs/etc.

Oh! And a week after putting up the bird feeder, I've got a (still small) loyal following of 4 chickadees and 2 junkos. Good thing they're still wild enough that they immediately fly as soon as I open the door... wouldn't want Mr. Evil Goblin (Berkeley) to catch one of them... a cat-feeding-station was NOT what I intended...

Mostly non writerly things

/waves hand/

Yup, still alive.

Life has been a little crazy, but things have been going well. Since I last posted, I was in Chilliwack readying stuff to ship to Montreal for the next PAC Convention. There was a bunch of drama around taking possession of my new place (the sellers lawyer "lost" some paperwork, only discovered the day everything was supposed to get legalized, so there was a mad scramble and some delays). I also house-sat for that family friend who just lost his wife to cancer.

...and survived a crazy windstorm that had power out for 3 full days and internet out for 5.

I've been packing/organizing to move (planning for endish of September), and painting the new place. Some interesting discoveries & slightly unpleasant surprises as I've been removing hardware and fixing some things. Nothing huge, but it annoys me how often something is not installed correctly in the first place, and fixing it generally means breaking other things before you can fix the one, stupid thing that was done wrong in the first place. Seriously people... drywall anchors are not rocket science... and patching drywall is an enormous pain.

But I do enjoy the fun of renovating (taking things apart and putting them back together in a better, more efficient way always gives me great satisfaction -> which is why I enjoy editing so much) and it's been fun to turn this townhouse into a space that feels more like "me".

And I haven't even touched the garden yet.

The rest of September is pretty busy as well... more housesitting starting in about 10 days (which is also going to involve dropping off/picking up my nephew from school & babysitting), plus my plans to actually move (so the whole townhouse needs to be ready), but also within the next 10 days I've promised to spend a couple days with my cousin down in Birch Bay (WA state, about a 20 min drive after crossing the USA/Canadian border), a few more days in Chilliwack making ikebana vases (yes, from porcelain clay/slip + glazing + maybe painting, depending how my arm is holding up), my birthday is this coming weekend, and I might be helping someone pack/move (small stuff) on the 15th. I've also made several other plans with friends and family to the point where I'm not entirely sure what moments I will have free...

And there's an unopened MS file sitting on my desktop that I've been asked to read/comment on, and I just finished another one which is certainly going to involve follow-up (always fun).


Through the summer, I have managed to schedule in a weekly writing session with a local writing buddy of mine and other sporadic writing dates with another buddy. Surprisingly, with all the recent insanity, I've gotten some writing in too :) Nothing crazy, but a respectable amount, and (as a pantser) amazingly I have a clearer view of what the next portion of the story might look like, which is awesome because a few weeks ago I didn't even have a vague direction of where to go next. Essentially, I'm at the mid-point (ish) of the Northern Fairytale MS and recently surprised myself at the unexpected turn a scene took... like taking a single step and finding yourself at a vantage point, I feel like now I can sprint downhill, and am salivating to get more writing done.

Well, I hope everyone's summer has been good, and I hope to squeeze in a few extra hours to catch-up on all the people's blogs I haven't had the time to read and find out what amazing things have been going on for you all.

Which, I hope, involves writing ;)

It's now 1pm, and I'm heading over to do more painting... extra exciting because it's my office/studio.

Move number ...13?

I have moved more than the average person. Between June 2003 & now, I moved 10 full times (from Langley -> Vancouver -> Calgary -> Airdrie -> Vancouver -> Victoria -> Saanichton -> Victoria -> Vancouver -> Kitsilano -> Langley)

...but I've also done two half-moves. What that means is, during the Victoria -> Saanichton -> Victoria stint (I think that time period was 4 years? 5 years?) twice my ex and I rented a place in Vancovuer because we missed 'home' so much and we stayed there as much as possible while technically still living on Vancouver Island.

(it was ferry-hell. Seriously. I never want to get on BC Ferries ever again)

Because we moved so much, choosing a new house/condo was always about one thing. Resale. Several places I completely renovated so we could (and did) sell them really quickly when needed.

This is why I joke about owning more power tools than high-heeled shoes. I've done plumbing, electrical, drywall, roofing, I've torn out brick walls, built stone walls, converted a wood burning fireplace to natural gas, done tiling, flooring, rebuilt cabinets, landscaped, and of course all the easy stuff like painting, repairing walls, re-doing all trim/baseboards, etc.

But I've been renting the last 3 places I've lived, including where I am now.

Which was nice, not to have to do renos/etc, but also frustrating because they never felt like 'home'. They were never 'mine'.

So, at long last, I am moving again. This time, to Cloverdale (easy access to the border, 45 min to Vancouver, 45 min to Chilliwack, 1 hour to the cabin, so location is pretty central/perfect). And the most glorious thing about this place? No major renovations needed. The only hard work this place needs is all the carpet ripped out/replaced, but that doesn't have to be done right away since it's in pretty good condition. I want to rip it out because carpet + pet hair = dust/dirt/allergies, but I can live with it for now.

Although it's already been a bit of a crazy summer, I am absolutely delighted at the prospect of living in a 'home' again, something I can paint and change and re-work to suit me (and the pets, of course).

Mostly I'm excited to unpack since 90% of my possessions have been in boxes for over 2 years, since I made the last Victoria -> Vancouver move.

I get my keys August 23 and I'll probably move in early September, after I've done a little bit of painting/etc.

So, happy long weekend (to those who have Monday off), I'll probably be out touring paint stores and looking at paint swatches.

Short update

Wow, the last couple of weeks have absolutely flown by! Somehow, I think that's a quality of summer, even though it's not like I'm in school anymore so I am not revelling in the freedom of vacation.

Maybe it's the heat? Melts the brain a little and time slides sideways?

So... divorce! Yes! It's done! I should get the final paperwork this week!

(okay, I am officially banning myself from further use of exclamation marks in this post before I poke someone's eye out)

Eva, my beloved and... always troublesome beagle companion... had a small surgery to remove a lump from her chest (nothing seriously, thankfully) and was confined to a cone-of-shame for a week. Oh yes, plus 2 weeks fighting with ear drops for a persistent ear infection. She gained almost 5 lbs due to the number of treats I had to bribe her with... sigh...

Berkeley knocked my laptop on the floor, which meant a trip to the Apple store + a new screen + a couple days forced-detox from computer-land. Don't worry, I got the crying & shaking under control after the first 24 hours.

I was out in Chilliwack with my painting mentor for a few days and plan to head back on the 24th in August to help go through stuff for the next PAC convention. This one is in Montreal, May 2016.

Editing more photos for the PAC magazine, new issue deadline is the end of the month, and I've also taken over the website related tasks. It was kindof fun to realize that teaching myself basic coding when I was a teenager somehow stuck in my brain enough to allow me to pop into the backend of a website I had not built and manipulate it. Good times were had by all :)

Most exciting thing of all? I've jumped back into the Northern Fairytale with both feet. I've been going through the 25,000 words of first-draft-ugliness and editing for consistency and logic (seriously, why did I ever think that deer would have already given birth to fawns in March? IGNORANCE, and I now know better) and have been tapped into a lovely collection of Arctic-related notes/research/documentaries for the next portion of writing.

Where did I leave off last time? Maybe you recall my (slight) obsession with crows/ravens? And a peculiar goddess/monster (or as she prefers to be called) a 'Lady' made up of an entire flock of crows?

So yes, Selka is back and hungry for blood. Quite literally. And my brain is positively buzzing with ideas, notions, and random tangents that might possibly intersect at some point and connect into a cohesive plot.

This also means Jay, Kell & the crew from SCARLIGHT are currently banished into the dark corners of my brain until a later time & place. Writing 2 first drafts at the same time is apparently beyond my abilities, not only just in the sheer number of tense errors flipping from past to present & back again, but due to the bi-polar war going on in my head hopping between a somewhat noble female character and a selfish, self-involved male character. Oh, but Kell? Parkour? So much fun research somewhere in the future :)


And while all this is going on, I am on the hunt for a new place to live. The plan is to move before the end of September, but so far my extreme pickiness is limiting my options. It doesn't seem like a lot to ask for to find a place with a fenced yard, room/lighting to accommodate 40+ orchids, a snooker table, 2 pets, all my porcelain/painting stuff, 2 kilns, a light table, my computers, books... ugh. Okay, you can see why this might be difficult...

Yes, the last couple weeks have flashed by... how are your summers shaping up so far? Any writing goals you're shooting for? I have been informed that Camp NaNo is not somehow related to a horror-novel plot and is quite legitimate. Any non-writerly goals? Moving? School? Career/drudgery? Family? Vacation/trips?

Reevaluating expectations, beagles & writing

Let me preface this post by stating that I love my dog, because it might not be clear further in...


Some people choose a dog because of aesthetics. They like the narrow, dainty grace of a whippet, the silky beauty of a golden retriever, or the hypoallergenic non-shedding quality of a poodle.

Some choose based on size appropriate for their lifestyle. A big dog for a big yard or to take along on hiking trips, while others want a low maintenance lap-sized apartment pet they rarely have to walk.

Some choose based on personality. The goofball bulldog, the family-friendly lab, the big-personality-tiny-body of a chihuahua.


Eva was chosen by my ex because he'd always wanted a beagle -> so, mostly based on the aesthetics of the breed.

I grew up with big, easily trainable, happily playful retrievers and retriever crossed breeds, german shepherds, etc.

...which are about the furthest thing away from a beagle I can imagine.

My expectations of a dog pretty much did a 180 the moment she came home. I actually remember bursting into tears several times because I was so frustrated. To put this in context, I have trained cats, I have trained fish, I have trained chickens... who are, arguably, one of natures less intelligent creatures. Patience is not something I lack. Creative work-arounds are not a problem.

But Eva? Wow. Yeah, she frustrated me.

It took months to housetrain her. I'd have her outside for 45 minutes and all she would do is sniff the ground. I'd finally give up, bring her inside to try again later, and almost immediately there'd be a puddle or a deposit on the floor.

I'd walk her 4 hours a day, invested in a weighted doggie-backpack, and she was still so crazy hyper she'd tear around in circles, literally bouncing off the walls and furniture.

She didn't want to retrieve a ball, chase a frisbee, or get in water deeper than her toes. She completely ignored me when I called her - whether I was 3' away or 30'. When I walked her, 'heel' was impossible. She'd alternatively yank at the leash, or I'd have to drag her. Anything within reach would go in her mouth. She'd dart into traffic if given half the chance, and more than once I had to chase her down the street or apologize to neighbours after she had run inside their house. A couple times, she even escaped and ran right into crowded restaurants.

With Eva, I had to reevaluate my expectations, then revise them. And keep revising them.

After six and a half years raising/training Eva, these are my expectations:

She needs at least 2km of walking before she can be trusted off-leash, and even then I can't let her out of sight and have to always be aware of what on the ground might be considered tasty.

(note: my latest discovery is that bear poop gives her diarrhoea. yeah, this is my dog...)

Nine out of ten times she'll come/respond when I call her, unless it rained the previous day, then it's about 50/50, and if there's a child in the vicinity, there's zero chance she'll listen unless she's on leash. Eva will chase a ball or frisbee 6-8 times before getting bored and wandering off. If she finds an escape hole in the fence when I visit my parent's house, she won't find her way back, she'll invite herself into the first open door she sees and make herself comfortable. She has three phone numbers on her tag depending on the city she might escape in, which is especially helpful when this happens.

Yes, I do love my dog, but she is very high maintenance and never 100% trustworthy.


I find any new story is the same way. It never quite works like the last one, and even when it is working, it may not last.

Characters come differently, voice comes differently. Plot explodes in a mess of jagged phrases, or is pried out sentence by careful sentence.

But just like I love my dog, I love writing. And a big part of it is because it's not easy.*

There's a line from SCARLIGHT which might be one of the 'truest' things I've written, something that reflects back a little too much of myself:

Things aren’t better when they’re free, they’re just easier to discard when you use them up.

...and like Eva, I'm not looking for easy, or free. There's little-to-no worth in something that doesn't take hard work, that doesn't take a little bit of sweat, of soul, of blood.


I've known people who throw things away. Who constantly chase that ephemeral oasis called 'happiness' on the horizon. And they are the unhappiest people I've ever met.


Sometimes I joke that nothing I write is publishable. Sometime I even believe it. But I never give myself an excuse to slack off, to expect anything less than the best I can give it.

In everything, not just in writing.

I think that's the greatest gift dyslexia has given me.

I don't want the excuse.

I don't want free.

I don't want easy.

I want to know I've done my absolute best, that I've worked to the frayed edge of my ability.

For me, that is the ultimate validation, so if-and-when I fail, I'm going to reevaluate my expectations, continue to move forward, and I'm going to appreciate every small win along the way.


So thanks, Eva, for many tears of frustration and for testing the limits of my patience and sanity for every single one of the (approximately) 2,300 days that I've owned you.

I think you've prepped me well :)


So, until my arm/back is healed and I can sit at my desk (without my ribs popping out) and I can type (without my arm going numb), I'm still going to smile, I'm still going to take the high-road, and I'm not going to take the excuse and give up.

My mind/brain still works just fine, and that's not a small win -> that's huge.



*I also have an extremely temperamental rescue cat, who I picked out... so yeah, I'm always going for the challenge :)

Disguises

“Having perfected our disguise, we spend our lives searching for someone we don’t fool.”

- Robert Brault


I read this quote is a drastically different context, but as soon as it absorbed into my brain, I started thinking about it in terms of writing.

'cause, y'know, I do nerdy things like that...


So what's my disguise and who am I fooling?

Well, I could easily be flippant, but let's go for serious instead.


It's pretty obvious to say, 'every story I've ever written is a piece of my disguise'.

From that statement, it would be simple to assume that my point is, 'I am not my story, and my story is not me, so don't be fooled into thinking I'm writing myself into the story'.

...but that's not what I think about when I consider the second half of that quote.

The reader is certainly the person I don't want to fool, the one I want to see through the disguise, but it's not 'me', the author, hidden away waiting to be found... it's the heart of the story.

Stories are things you can't hang onto. As soon as they're out there, published or otherwise available for others to enjoy, they absorb a life of their own. They inflate with readers' thoughts, emotions, experiences, past, present and future. Readers can put a face, height, tone of voice, etc. onto the characters. They can read between the lines, or skip right over them and enjoy the obvious. Settings, clothes, all the details that fill a world can be imagined or ignored.

The writer has very little influence on the reader's experience. Whether they'll laugh or cry when a particular character dies. Whether they love the ending, or hate it.

BUT, if you think of a painting or sculpture in a museum, sometimes there's a little placard, or a leaflet of information about the piece -> detailing the intention of the artist, noteworthy experiences, preferences. Personal, political, historical, philosophical... any and all of it.

A glimpse at possible reasons behind the 'why'.

So in a way, my blog(s) would be a similar kind of glimpse, a means for a reader to avoid being fooled.

When I ramble about things like voice or colour, nerd-out over strange tangents, vent about art, laugh about silly research on YouTube, and amusing/enlightening comments from CP's and beta-readers...

...that's me seeking out readers who can't be fooled. Those who can see past the storyline, past the characters, the sentences, format, theme, and see the 'why' behind it all. See the heart of the story, the reason I spend uncountable hours writing, researching, editing, and raging myself insane over proper comma usage.

The reason I'm thinking about this? I got a comment back from someone. Someone who didn't have to say anything, or email me at all. Someone who instantly 'got' what I was trying to do.

...and I thought they were all kinds of awesome for it :)

More than hearing that someone enjoyed a story I'd written, it was far more rewarding to hear that they 'got' the story I'd written.

That's a personal connection far beyond what I was expecting, far beyond what I would allow myself to hope for.

That was someone who was not fooled.

And I, as a writer, am more rich because of it.