I Have a Job

Once upon a time in high school, my mother told me something. She told me a lot of somethings, actually, but this one stands out. She said that since we were privileged enough to not need everyone in the household to bring in a paycheck, she never wanted me to have an after school job, unless I really wanted one. She told me school was my job, and I should never have to compromise my school life just for a second job. When I graduated and started college, she told me the same thing. I could live with her rent-free and not have to pay bills so long as I was making a clear effort with my classes.

About halfway into my degree, a lot of stuff happened that resulted in me dropping out. My parents moved back to our hometown, and my husband and I got our own little apartment.

There's a laundry list of reasons why I couldn't realistically get a job, and those reasons persist. When I initially dropped out, my husband turned to me and said, since I wasn't in school anymore, and since I couldn't get a so-called "real" job, I really should focus on my writing. School couldn't be my job anymore, so writing should be my job.

Thing is, it hasn't been. For a long time I rationalized not writing with, "oh, there are other things to do, and they're more important." I thought of my job not as writing, but as keeping the apartment in order.

But I'm running out of excuses. My role in our household is to do the budget and to cook. I'm not even responsible for housekeeping. My husband brings in the paycheck, our partner keeps things clean and tidy, and I do the books. That really doesn't take up a lot of my time, and I'm good at it. It's not something I have to agonize over and spend hours finagling.

Well, okay, I have to do some finagling, and sometimes there's some agonizing, but that's mostly because we live in a society that doesn't think people need a living wage. And that's another post entirely, and not one that's entirely relevant to this blog.

I digress.

My point here being...I have no excuse for writing not to be my job. I have no excuse to keep pushing it to the side and pretending I have more important things to do. I have absolutely no reason to not schedule uninterrupted time just to work on my book. And, as many people wiser than me have pointed out, if I don't treat my time as valuable, why should anyone else? If I don't set aside time just for writing, and hold myself to that, what's to stop people from continuing to act as if I don't do anything and I just waste time sitting around in my underwear?

If I don't sit down and make a real effort to make writing my job, what's to stop me from continuing to feel aimless and frustrated with all the time I waste?

So yeah. Starting today, I'm starting to pencil in several hours of writing time each day. During this time, no one is allowed to bother me unless there's a real need. I'm not going to say it's writing time and just keep goofing off on Twitter. I'm not going to pretend there are more important things I need to do and act like my writing isn't serious.

My writing is serious, and I'm not going to let anyone pretend it isn't. Myself included.

Until next time,
J.

Slow and Steady

In October of 2008, I conjured up an idea for a book. It combined some minor elements of stories I'd been sitting on for a while, but for the most part it was fresh, and new, and exciting. I wrote it for NaNoWriMo that year. I fell in love with the characters and with the story. I edited and revised, and then I wrote queries (and I sent them way too soon, but that's another story). It was my baby, but eventually I had to shelve it. It wasn't going anywhere right then, and it was time to move on.

I never did forget about that story, though. It was constantly in the back of my mind and, in January of 2014, I revived it. I've been working on it off-and-on for just over a year now. I'm about halfway through the writing. It's not where I want it to be. I originally wanted to have it finished by now. I wanted to be working on edits and revisions and cleaning it up after letting my writing friends tear it apart. If I look at my original goals, I am so desperately behind.

But you know what? I've decided that doesn't matter. Life happens. Things get in the way, motivation waxes and wanes, and sometimes you just need to take a step back and work on something else.

Lauren DeStefano posted something on Tumblr this evening that really resonated with me:

you do NOT have to write every day to be a writer. I’m a writer and I have a designated day where I do nothing but eat chips in bed. [link]

I don't write every day. I go through periods where I try to, but some days I just can't, for one reason or another. Sometimes that reason is that all I feel capable of is sitting on the couch and watching Netflix. And you know what? That's okay. I'm not on a deadline. I don't have a magic date where if I pass it, I'll never be able to publish anything.

It's important to push myself, I believe, but it's equally important to know when other things have to come first.

So with that I leave you, reader folk. I'm going to finish this episode of Orange is the New Black, get some cleaning done before my in-laws come visit this weekend, and maybe, if I'm up for it, finish the chapter I'm working on.

'Til next time,
J.

New Year, Revised Goals

Well, folks, it's 2015. Wherever you are, I hope your holidays of choice went swimmingly, and if they didn't, I extend my most heartfelt e-hugs. I know how the holidays can be.

My holidays went well, though with all the chaos and running around, I had to set my writing to the side in order to get through everything. Now that it's the new year, I'm picking things back up, and I hope to have my current WiP written by summer. I started writing this time last year, and it's taken me much, much longer than I anticipated to get this thing written. That's not a bad thing, though. Stuff happens. I've had to deal with computer crashes on top of the normal ups and downs of life, and now that I'm back on my feet after the end-of-year mayhem, I think having this thing finished by June or July is totally reasonable. It's not a resolution so much as a revised goal, but I guess we can go ahead and call this one of my new year's resolutions.

I don't have much else to say at the moment. I've been sick and kinda worn out, so I'm taking it easy until I'm feeling better. My plan is to get some writing--actual writing, not just editing--done tonight before I call it a day, after I make a quick trip down to the grocery store for snacks. Can't have writing without snacks, right?

'Til next time,
J.

And the Game Begins

It's the end of October. Pumpkins and skeletons and goblins and witches are everywhere, it's just a few days until Halloween, and the week many dub "NaNo Countdown Week" has begun.

I'm no stranger to NaNoWriMo. I've participated every year since 2008, and this year is no exception. My current plan is to write the second part of my current WiP, since I know it's going to be one of the most difficult sections of the story. Since NaNoWriMo is all about pushing yourself to write something, whether it's good or utter tripe, I'm using it as the push I need.

Every year since 2010, when asked for advice about NaNoWriMo, I've offered up the same anecdote. At the end of October in 2010, I was sick. Nothing life-threatening or even all that remarkable...until NaNoWriMo hit. I got so caught up in the competitive spirit that I pushed myself to write as fast as humanly possible. I hit the 50K goal in four days, and kept going. I slept the minimum hours I could get away with, snacked instead of getting up to eat, and hardly left my desk.

Remember, I was also sick at the time. That cold developed into full-blown walking pneumonia through my horrid lack of self-care, and a week into the month I landed my ass in the hospital with a temperature of 107.3.

Which, if you didn't know, is right about the temperature where you start losing brain cells.

So yeah. That sucked, it was dangerous, and if my mom hadn't taken my temperature and rushed me to the hospital when she did, it could have been a lot worse.

That story being told, my advice regarding NaNoWriMo is as follows (lifted from my Twitter):

As we get closer to #NaNoWriMo, this is my advice: pace yourself. It's not a contest. Don't beat yourself up if you write slow. 

I wrote 50k in 4 days one year while sick. It put me in the hospital. Remember to sleep and eat and exercise. #NaNoWriMo 

Writing is good. Writing can even be fun. But don't hurt yourself just to say you were the first of your friends to reach 50k. #NaNoWriMo 

Likewise, don't try to shame those who write slow or see #NaNoWriMo as casual fun. It's not life or death. Don't make it such. 

Also remember that what you write during #NaNoWriMo won't be perfect. It probably won't even be good. That's okay. It's not supposed to be. 

The important thing is that you're writing. Even if you don't finish, you got something done. Even if you only wrote a sentence. #NaNoWriMo 

Be good to yourself. Feel free to treat yourself. Enjoy the ride. #NaNoWriMo  

This has been a series of inspiration and advice #NaNoWriMo tweets. Back to your regularly scheduled shenannigans.

Remember, folks, it's not a contest. Have fun, and be safe.

'Til next time,

J.

Always Crashing in the Same Laptop

So I've been taking a bit of a hiatus, if you hadn't noticed. About halfway through last month I started feeling extremely worn down, and so I took a couple of weeks to myself. During those couple of weeks, I sat down and did a lot of editing on my WiP. I managed to get seven chapters spit-shined and polished. I had plans to finish the next eight and send the document to my crit group, as well as my husband and parents, who haven't read much of my work but would like to.

But then my laptop crashed.

I didn't lose much, when I take a step back and look at it. The main file with my WiP got corrupted, but that was the only thing. I lost no other documents, no pictures, no programs. I had a backup of everything up to when I started those seven chapters of edits, so there's nothing I have to rewrite.

But damned if it didn't suck to lose all of those perfect shiny edits.

For the rest of my little hiatus, I barely touched my document. I was--and still kind of am--pissed at losing something that took a lot of effort and that I was proud of. I got a bit burned out at the thought of doing it all over again, especially since I don't exactly remember all the little tweaks I made.

This week, though, I'm picking it back up. I had a sulk, made some notes, and it's back to edits. My plan is to edit the entirety of Part One, send it to my crit pals, and then start writing Part Two while working on the outline for Part Three. Because of how lengthy this project really is, and because I took that hiatus, I'm giving myself until my birthday in February to get this thing finished and spit-shined.

No penalty if I don't have it finished by then, of course, but it's something to shoot for.

'Til next time,
J.

It's Not the Length

A few weeks ago I posted about the length of my WiP. When I wrote that post, I had just upped my word count goal again, and I was worrying that this book will wind up being too long to sell. I typed out my woes and put the worry to bed for a little while, but in the time since Husband Guy and I returned from vacation, that woe has re-awoken. The other day I upped the word count goal to a whopping 180,000 words. Typical guidelines for my genre say that 115,000 is pushing it, and so yesterday's productivity was halted while I brooded.

Thank the stars I have the support network I do, because if I didn't have them, my own worries might cripple me.

Husband Guy, bless 'im, told me I should stop worrying because the story sounds great, and that's what's important. The ladies in my writing group told me much the same, and one of them asserted that she would much rather read a great story with a lot of meat than the same story watered down for the sake of length. And they're all right: length is a concern, but not nearly as big a concern as I've been trying to make it.

My running theory is that since I'm happy with the writing, my brain has decided to pick something else to feel insecure about. My brain is kind of annoying like that.

To combat this mess of insecurity, I've done a little something. I looked up the word counts of each book in The Lord of the Rings and A Song of Ice and Fire--two series by two authors who have helped define and mold my genre. The shortest on the list is The Return of the King, at 131,000 words. The longest is A Storm of Swords, at 424,000 words.

Really, my current goal of 180,000 doesn't look so extreme compared to that. I've copied the numbers down and I have them pinned on the cork board beside my desk, as a reminder of what my writer family has told me: it's not the length, it's how you use it.

'Til next time,
J.

Goals, Interrupted

It's just after ten on a Monday night. I'd say it's a quiet night, but the neighbors have an over-inflated idea of how much I want to hear their stereo. Other than that, though, it's a good night. My husband's in bed and I have plans to hang out (and maybe write) with my best good pal Mires. I shared some more chapters of my WiP with my writing group, and I've got a clear idea of what I need to write next.

I've got something knocking around the back of my mind, though, and that is that my original goal of having this book finished by September isn't realistic. I had originally hoped to have a finished manuscript by RMFW this year, which I'd hoped to attend, but those goals need to be revisited. It's kind of sucky, but things happen. Life gets going, days slip by, money gets eaten up by rent and groceries, and you sit and wonder what the heck happened.

I'm going to give RMFW a miss this year, unless my some miracle I scrape everything together last-minute, with the goal of saving up for next year. That's a lot more feasible, and it automatically gets rid of the September deadline I set for myself. My new self-set deadline is the end of the year. That I can definitely do--my little meter on Storytoolz currently estimates my finish for late October. I can definitely get this thing finished by December.

If there's anything I'm learning through this goal shift, it's that as an unpublished writer, I have to be flexible. Heck, all writers have to be flexible. Things change, ideas fade, new ideas crop up, life happens, and characters veer off the track they've been set. I have the luxury of changing my deadline at will, and so there's no use moping that I've "missed" said deadline. I can give myself endless extensions as long as I'm still working, and I don't have to feel bad about it. And I am still writing. Sometimes slowly, sometimes in a more meandering fashion, but I'm writing. And that's better than I was doing this time last year.

Goals have to change sometimes, and that's okay.

'Til next time,
J.

Dream a Little Dream

I was catching up on some favorite blogs of mine, and I discovered that Beth Revis (whose books are the bomb diggity) had written a post in line with something I've been thinking about lately. You should stop reading and go check it out. I'll wait.

*waits*

Okay, cool. For those of you who didn't go read the post, basically Beth talked about how, even though she's achieved her ultimate dream of being published, there are still things she wants. Just because you achieve one thing, Beth says, doesn't mean you should stop dreaming.

Obviously I'm not a published author yet, so that remains my ultimate goal. Beyond that, though, I like to allow myself a few daydreams. Publishing is a slow industry and the chances of making it huge are small, but it's fun to sit and imagine what might happen if my story took off in a big, bad way. Book signings and fan art and a television show and an entire fandom that produces fabulous art and fics and vids...the things I see from fandoms I'm a part of make me want to make it big. Fandom is a really cool thing.

I'm not presumptuous enough to think the stars will of course align to bring me all of these things, because the nature of publishing guarantees nothing. But those little imaginings of mine are fun, and harmless so long as I don't let them carry me away. I still have to finish this book, I still have to find an agent, I still have to go through the process...but imagining the "what ifs" gives me a fun little incentive on the days I feel lazy or that my writing isn't good enough.

So, without further ado, here's my wish list of what I want, what I really, really want:

Publication - Obviously this is the supreme ultimate goal that I'm working toward every single day. This is the most realistic thing on this list and the one that has to happen first. Even if I only ever get this, I will be happier than words can say.

Present to teenage writers - I still live close to where I went to high school, and last I heard my old English and creative writing teacher still teaches. He was a major influence on my writing, and if I still live around here when I land that publishing goal, I would love so much to talk to his creative writing classes about...well, writing. We were fortunate to hold Skype calls with writers when I took the class, and I think it would be a lot of fun to be on the other side. Even if I can't speak to Mr. K's class, I would still love to talk to high school students about writing. It was in high school I got my start, after all.

Have a fandom - All fandoms have their weird side, but I've seen amazing things come out of some of my favorite fandoms. I don't really read or write fanfics, but I've seen the pleasure folks take out of them and I'd love to hear about AUs and crackships and reimagined twists. I'd love to see artwork and fan videos and crack vids and fancasts and more. The thought of my work possibly ever inspiring such a thing makes me feel positively giddy.

Land a TV series - Obviously the caveat here is that I would want a film adaptation of my book that is true to the story and had a dream cast, but, y'know, that goes without saying. I would love a television series based around my book, even if it was just a season or two. I think that would lend itself to authenticity easier than a two-hour film. I might not watch a lot of TV, and this might ultimately just be a pipe dream, but I'm a sucker for a good fantasy show...and I'm a bit biased toward my own story in terms of "what I think is awesome."

Merch - Funko Pop figures for my characters. I want that in my life. 'Nuff said.

Write until forever - I want to write as long as I can, even if I never get published or only see some of my work make it anywhere. Writing is such a part of who I am that I never want to stop. I said publication is the most realistic dream on this list, but that's not true. Publishing can be fickle, but damned if I'll ever let myself stop turning a phrase.

It's fair to say that some of these are just flights of fancy, but, hey, a girl can dream. As long as I keep my head in the game and don't let the fun dreams become more important than the true goal, I think I'm golden.

What dreams do you folks harbor? Care to share?

'Til next time,
J.

It Begins

And with a bang, a crash, and a lightning flash...it's Monday again. The working types are off to another day on the job, and we home-lurkers are either enjoying a morning to ourselves or sleeping in. Or maybe something else--obviously I don't know. But however you're spending your Monday morning, I hope it's treating you well.

It's been a while, hasn't it? But it's a fresh month and the beginning of a promising summer. I've been writing away between reblogging cool pictures on my tumblr, and I'm nearly 30,000 words into my behemoth of a WiP. I've got a few other projects bubbling away on the back burner, but for now, this lovely thing I call From Dust to Ashes holds my heart.

I have a few plans for the impending summer, though for us the routine isn't disrupted much. The husband's schedule stays the same through the heat, and I don't have to worry about keeping any kids entertained. All that's really going to be different is the heat, and that can be handled with the miracle that is central air. So...what's a girl to do?

The answer: write my ass off.

My best good pal Mireyah Wolfe and I did some number crunching, and they made a real pretty sound. We can't make any definite calls yet, but it looks like the two of us might be able to grace the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers conference with our presence this year. We've both set a goal of having, if not finished books, at least finished drafts of our WiPs by the time we fly out (assuming we can go).

According to my word count meter, I'm approximately 19% toward my word goal, with an estimated finish date of November 10th at my current pace. Obviously November comes after September, so starting today I intend to pick up the pace. This is my summer of writing. Between a trip to see my family, a barbecue or two, and whatever other distractions summer brings, I will finish at least the first draft of this book. It's going to happen. I believe in me.

So what are you folks planning for the summer?

'Til next time,
J.

Too Much, Not Enough

When it comes to missing a day of writing, I used to say, "well, I just didn't have the time." These days, that's very much not the problem. If anything, I have entirely too much time on my hands.

I stay at home while my husband works two jobs, and I don't currently have a vehicle. That's not a "poor me," or anything; it's the way things are, and it works for us. The point is that, aside from our pets, I'm at home alone, with nowhere to go, and that it's a daily thing. I have housework to take care of, but that really doesn't take too much time. The rest of the day is completely mine.

Sounds great, right?

For the most part, yeah, it is pretty awesome. I can walk away from most projects when I start to get overwhelmed or bored or I just feel like doing something else for a little while. The problem is that I have no daily structure, and it's easy to either get extremely bored very quickly, or get sucked into something and not walk away from it until it's 5:30 and time for dinner. Either way, it becomes extremely difficult to focus on the one thing I'm trying to get back into:

Writing.

Lack of structure and an excess of free time makes it so endlessly difficult to muster the self-discipline to write daily. When I can spend literally all day long playing video games and have pretty much no negative repercussions from that act, it's easy to do just that. When I get bored and nothing is stopping me from just going to take a nap, it's really really easy to do just that. The hard thing is putting my butt in the chair, switching on my brain, and doing something that can be difficult, frustrating, and, when it comes to editing, occasionally tedious.

Today I'm letting myself bask in laziness and lack of structure, because I have at least acknowledged the problem. I'm going to get it all out of my system. Tomorrow, however, starts the days of a specific time frame in which I will write. Saying "I'll write [x] amount a day" hasn't cut it, because that [x] amount gets lost in all the free time. Saying "I'll write from noon to one every day" has a lot less wiggle room.

Self-discipline is hard, but I think I can do this.
'Til next time,
J.