Real Life

Hello From Here

1 Comment / Adventures, Real Life / By /

My workspace here

So far all I’ve managed is to edit down a prologue (openings are delicate and tricksy!) — but having a great time in Lisbon. And loving my little workspace.

More photos of this glorious city and our adventures here can be found in this flickr album I'm updating daily. Far too many, admittedly. Shoot now, curate later, I say.

Thanks, everyone, for the generous reaction and comments here and there on the last post. Happy it resonated. Now time for one of those decadent vacation lunches, with a little copo of wine.

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Signing Of The (Historical) Times (aka Roanoke Island Visit)

4 Comments / Blackwood, Real Life / By /

So, a trip report is merited, I think. Though I'm still a bit whirlwinded from the whole thing. Where to start?

Oh, yeah, THIS HAPPENED:

 

First Copy Of Blackwood Sold!

 

That would be me with several actors from The Lost Colony and the first-ever sold-in-a-bookstore copy of Blackwood. More on why this is basically the coolest thing that could have happened in a moment (though if you've already read the book, you understand).

Now that I've got that out of my system, I'll try to be more focused. Also, lots more photos ahead.

…

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Wrangling the Wild Year

4 Comments / BirthdayGras!, Real Life / By /

Last night I started thinking about where I was this time last year and how much has changed since then.

We were in Vieques, on the only real and true vacation we've ever taken (thanks to Kim O'Donnel and Russ Walker for that, and a fabulous trip). I was just about to finish up a major revision of the novel that's now called Blackwood, and I was feeling a bit at sea about where I might be headed. Would I ever sell a book? I wasn't sure, but I knew I'd keep writing them regardless. I already had a little bit of a beginning of a new book to work on next, but I wasn't sure about it. And so, mostly, I was just trying to make that book–then called Strange Alchemy–as good as I possibly could at the time.

I'd been on my own with the dogs for the week before and hadn't slept much and had developed a theory that maybe I didn't need to sleep anymore, or only a couple of hours a night, something I refer to as "becoming Bill Clinton" (get your mind out of the gutter: this was because he famously didn't need much sleep; I envy people with this evolutionary advantage). Luckily, this insomniac mania wore off after a day at the beach on island time and I did not go insane and start believing I was Bill Clinton.

Anyway, my birthday was the following week, and I'm coming up on a birthday this week (Thursday, to be exact), so maybe that accounts for the stock-taking. But, also, sometimes I have a tendency to just keep working nonstop, which means not pausing to appreciate Something Big Happened.

It's hard not to notice, though, comparing this year and last year. I did sell a book (thank you thank you again to superagent Jenn and supereditor Amanda), and it will be out in two months. I'd be spending a lot more time worrying about whether or not people will like it (yes, okay, I'm still spending too much time doing that), but I have a second book to turn in soon. And I'm just about to start revising it, so that will happen. I love this book and it's sooo scary trying to make it what I want it to be and believe it can be (and on time). Both the love and the fear are necessary, and planning. Pause for gratuitous shot of desk prepped for revising (click through for annotated photo):

P1030084

Anyway, long way of saying, I'm in a much different place this year…in some ways.

But the main thing I'm worried about now is the same thing I was worried about then. The focus is exactly the same: on making the book the best I can at this time, and then once that's done, writing another one. The focus is on the writing.

And when I think about the future and what I want for my career, sure, there are more specific things I'd like to happen. But mainly I just hope that I will be able to keep telling stories and that some of you (and some people who aren't you! total strangers who don't know I exist!) will get something valuable out of those stories through that magical collaboration of writer and reader.

I also want to say to those of you still in the query and/or submission stage that you know as well as I do the important thing is to keep working, because you never know. The imprint I'm being published by didn't exist yet at this time last year, but I feel SO incredibly lucky to have landed there. I pinch myself daily. And when I think, Hey, I sold a book and it will be in bookstores! Holy crap, Something Big Happened! what I also think is that it wasn't magic. It was something I worked really hard for, for a really long time. And, honestly? That feels like the biggest achievement. Giving up is easy. But it's not for writers, mostly. Writers risk failure and rejection every single day. It's not for cowards.

And at the end of the day I truly believe what matters most* is the same for all of us, sold and unsold, beginners and those well into their careers**: one word in front of the other. Keep moving. Keep writing. Keep trying our hardest to get better.

Meanwhile, I hope the surprises this year has in store are as good as last year's.

*'What matters most' is chosen carefully here. Obviously, we all have lots of concerns based on our careers and individual circumstances, but from my vantage this is nearly universal. It's the only part we truly have control over, so it better be.

**Although I could be wrong about this. It's entirely possible once you get further into your career you worry about bears or clown attacks.

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Trapping The Wild Time Monster

2 Comments / Nattering, Real Life / By /

A couple of posts I really liked lately that might not immediately seem related:

  • Nora Jemisin on the price of time (and how sometimes spending money to get yourself time is a wise calculation): "So I’ve had to reassess my life as a writer, and decide whether some things that I’d previously dismissed as too expensive on a financial basis were, in fact, costing me far more in the long run due to lost time."
  • Miriam Forster on "emotional flu" and taking downtime when you need it, like after finishing a giant project: "When you're physically sick, you need rest. Same goes for the emotional flu. So this week I'm going easy on myself.  No writing, no being productive at home unless I feel like it or it's urgent, like my husband running out of socks. No yelling at myself.  I'm going to go to work and spend time with my husband and pet the cat."

I recommend reading both in full. *waits*

Both of these really resonated with me, because of course we all have our own battles with time. And I get asked a lot how I manage to juggle all the things I regularly juggle (true answer: sometimes with little effort, sometimes with lots, most of the time somewhere in the middle). I definitely use both the techniques above.

I'm not particularly wise on the money front, but I agree that there are some things that it just pays to, well, pay for. For instance, if I have completely wrecked my neck hunching over papers or the laptop on a deadline or it's likely I will, I book a massage because I know I'll need it. (Yes, I realize this makes me sound like a brat, but I have learned from experience that it will often save emergency appointments and days of pain. Worth it.) The DVR, as Nora mentions too, is something I would sob and be very unhappy without…because:

One thing I do is try to give myself nights off. This isn't always possible. But we don't have kids, so more often than not it is. (Seriously, I'm in awe of anyone who manages to write and keep a household with children going, and I know there's often a day job in the mix too. *bows*) So, generally speaking, unless I'm on a major deadline, after 6 or 7 is play time. Brain dead time. Reading time. Going out to dinner time. Having a glass of wine and watching TV time. Twitter, blog reading or writing, etc. Guilt-free, all of it. This isn't exactly what Miriam is talking about, because that's something different–when you need a big chunk of relax, no-obligations-on-self, no-self-recrimination time to recharge. I'm not always so smart about taking that. But I do try to take some time every day that's "off." Otherwise, I go a little crazy.

I get up early just about every day and try to clock an hour minimum and two hours maximum of writing time before work. I also work during lunch. So that's three hours or so a day on the wip on a good day, at least an hour and a half on the bad days. Sometimes other things have to get subbed in here, but if I'm really in the middle of a book, I try to make sure I get the morning writing time in at a minimum.* During my writing time I don't mess around, and I don't have access to the web. That time is for writing only. Generally, that's about all the good time I have in me per day during a first draft anyway, so it's enough. Much more, and I'm burned out the next day. Revision takes bigger time chunks, so that's a little different, but.

Big freelance projects–proofing, PW pieces–mostly get done on the weekends, though they can slip into writing time on days I make word count and have time left over. For me, it's all about prioritizing. It's all about what's most pressing and how can I give it as much undivided time as possible until it's done? Because I find that multi-tasking is largely a fiction. It's a last resort. When I'm multi-tasking, the car is in the ditch, I am in the weeds. (I admire greatly those who can do it.)

And now…I have to go write an article. I'm definitely curious though, if anyone wants to talk about how they manage their days and writing time, feel free to in le comments.

*This is not to act like there aren't times when this gets disrupted because I really need the sleep instead or hit one of those natural pauses where there are a few days off, because there most definitely are.

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Yes, All Of This

10 Comments / Real Life / By /

That Libba Bray, she's right (and hilarious) as usual. This time offering advice on life/career track choices* to a high school senior who wrote her with a question:

What good is it to spend a life doing something you don’t like? That’s not living; that’s marking time. And maybe it’s that from where I sit, I have the benefit of having witnessed the many transformations of various friends, almost none of whom ended up where they thought they would but almost all of whom love where they are. (Quick sidebar: Auto-correct is telling me that last sentence should read: “All of who.” Auto-correct is wrong. “Of” is a preposition; a prepositional phrase demands the objective case. Therefore, “All of whom” is correct, says the daughter of the hardcore English teacher who forced me to use correct grammar. See? I did learn something! This sidebar is just to say, Fiona, that IF EVEN AUTO-CORRECT CAN BE WRONG, who the hell can tell you how to live your life to the fullest? Right. Moving on.) We never stop coming of age. We never stop growing and learning and changing. Hopefully, the road is long and paved with interesting choices and sidebars and unplanned magic and love and loss and joy and frustration. This is all good news, Fiona. Hopeful news. There is a lot you can do with hopeful news.

And another snippet, in case you were thinking of not reading the whole thing:

You asked for my advice, and I don’t want to let you down. I can’t tell you what to do or what would make you happy or whether or not you’ll accomplish all of your dreams or half of them or if your dreams will change over time. Only you can figure that out. Maybe you should travel the world. (Travel broadens your mind and heart.) Learn about other cultures. (It creates understanding and tolerance.) Work to make the world a little more fair in whatever way you can. (The world needs you.) Pursue work which fulfills you even if it means having another job on the side. (Who wants to just mark time?) Be kind when you can and forthright when you need to kick ass. (Benevolent bad-assery. It’s what’s for dinner.) Most importantly, keep learning, growing, reaching. Keep getting to know yourself as much as you can so that you will understand what makes you happy and what doesn’t and know to go about the former and avoid the latter. Being able to make yourself happy is a life skill that we learn as we go along. Live as honestly and authentically as you can because, in the long run, it’s a lot simpler and less anxiety-producing. Really, if you’re going to wipe out and fall on your ass on occasion (also a vital part of your education…along with getting back up), it’s better to fail as yourself than as somebody else.

Read the whole thing, regardless of whether you need career advice. It is honest, heartfelt, awesome.

Note: My math portfolio item in high school was an essay about why I didn't like math because it tried to narrow down a question to only one answer. Score.

*After I'd been working for a year or two, I got invited back to my alma mater** (at state school–holla) for a panel to give advice to students on entering the workforce, getting good jobs, etc. I remember distinctly how insane everyone acted when I said, essentially, "Don't make too many plans–you never know what'll happen, and if you have this whole thing you're attached to, then you don't see opportunities. You don't follow the weird choices life puts in your path. Just: Be interesting. Work hard. Remember people's names." There was a whole five-year plan contingent that uproared. But, you know, I stand by this. Especially from that vantage, thinking you know anything about what's going to happen next is more than a little insane. And that doesn't really change: you can never know for sure.***

**When I was invited back to networking day this year to talk about networking, I gave a talk about how I don't believe in networking, that instead I believe in being curious and interested in people. (And, as Libba says, in making friends rather than "connections.") My handouts were from The Onion. They will eventually stop asking me back, I'm sure.

***This doesn't mean don't have goals, obviously. But goals aren't everything. Life is a process, and it can't be just about ticking ticky boxes and checking items off a list. Especially someone else's list.****

****I officially apologize to all my long-suffering high school and college instructors (I was a good student, but probably a, hmm, difficult to manage one at times). I liked to argue. I was already doing the self-education by book, ignoring math whenever possible, reality hacking thing by seventh grade. Oddly, I was convinced until I became an adult that I was lazy, but it turns out I probably wasn't ever lazy. I just only worked on the things I prioritized, and sometimes those didn't match up with what I was supposed to be doing and so that read as laziness. But I was always doing stuff… and I believe the right stuff. I was blessed with parents who supported me despite this contrarian quality. And I wouldn't take any of it back. I'm happy to be here.

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Truth & Beauty

Effing Genius, Real Life / By /

Kate Elliott (whose new book Cold Magic is at the top of my TBR stack) has written an amazing and wise post about what it means to be a nation of immigrants, about prejudice and how it damages:

And yet a cycle repeats itself. Every generation seems to fixate on some “new” immigrant group as a threat that can’t or won’t assimilate itself properly, that is stubborn or ineducable or secretly under the thrall of the Pope or or or. You can fill in the blanks. It happens over and over again as meanwhile people who want to build a good life for themselves and their children, and their children who can conceive of nothing other than being Americans because, well, that is what they are–they are Americans just as I am, or you over there, or you, or you–get on with living a decent life . . . if they can, if they aren’t locked into internment camps or having their places of worship burned because they are this decade’s or this generation’s Threat to Our Way of Life.

Really, seriously, go read the whole thing.

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Vote Rocked = Check (Updated)

5 Comments / Real Life / By /

The Line When We Arrived
Originally uploaded by gwenda

It took about two hours, but was a great experience. Seriously, if I talk about it too much, I’ll get weepy. I’ve been weepy all day, a combination of nerves and just being inspired by how special this election is.

Anyway, that’s the old firehouse we vote in, and the line when we arrived. There’s a few more shots at Flickr. Reading material spotted in line: Kitty Goes to Washington by Carrie Vaughn (me!), Eragon by Christopher Paolini (a lady behind us), D’Aulaire’s Book of Trolls (the kid with his dad three places in front of us), and there was a creepy yuppy guy in front of us reading Ayn Rand (!) (or at least toting it around with him pretending to read it).

The rest of our evening will be spent dealing with some version of this. Here’s hoping.

Updated: CNN has holograms. WTF?

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Make a Difference

3 Comments / Books, Real Life / By /

GidneyCraig Gidney is a fabulous person, and a fabulous writer. We published his story "The Safety of Thorns" in Say… have you heard this one? (he talked about it here) and consider him a dear friend. He’s having a tough time at the moment, as one of those far-too-many writers without health insurance.

Steve Berman founded Lethe Press in 2003, and Craig’s first short story collection, Sea, Swallow Me, is due from them shortly. Steve is making the following very generous offer to help Craig:

Lethe is releasing in Oct/Nov his short story collection, Sea, Swallow Me, and Other Stories. These are terrific fantastical tales. 

Rather than just a royalty, I’d like to offer a pre-pub sale that would give him the entire amount. Yes, I won’t even keep my costs and, since 10% of my profits were to be donated to the >Carl Brandon Society, if you purchase a copy of the book before publication, I’ll still make that pledge. So, $13 goes to Craig and $1.30 goes to Carl Brandon. Books will be sent out via media mail at my cost.

If you’ve already ordered a copy through Amazon, I want to thank you. But that won’t help Craig for months. Plus, I’ll make sure Craig autographs your copy before it is sent out.

I’d prefer payment be sent via check, but you could Paypal it if necessary to lethepress AT aol DOT com. The price is only $13 per book.

Lethe Press
118 Heritage Ave
Maple Shade, NJ 08052

And here’s a handy Paypal button:

Please order a copy if you can, and help spread the word.

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