Growing Avocados: Just Like Nature Intended

If you've ever tried to grow an avocado from a seed, you're probably already sharing a secret chuckle with me. If not, then let me introduce you to every how-to page on growing avocados in one picture.

Just like... nature... is there something I need to know about nature?

After meticulous research, I've concluded that nature is far more horrifying than we realize. If you've already seen bottle flies hatch from human skin and parasites that live in penises, then this will be... kind of anticlimactic but for the rest of you who are still shocked that there are crabs in the people-ocean and oak forests are mostly the result of squirrels forgetting where they hid acorns, then I might still be able to shock you.

Avocados need water. A lot of it. Preferably in a transparent enclosed space where other fresh water can't contaminate it. Luckily, there are ecosystems that avocados can thrive in.

Where plastic comes from.

When a plactus and an avocado fall in love, the avocado brutally murders and crawls into its lover's hollow body, waiting for a predator to devour the avocado's luscious body and spit it back into the plactus corpse. They must die for their love and hope their predator is ecologically responsible when they dispose of the remains. An unsuccessful plactus could end up in the belly of a sea turtle after all. Thanks a lot, irresponsible nature!

The hope for the birth of a great tree is not safe yet. The rain could easily drown the remaining seed, so the sacrificing couple must rely on nature once more-- namely the appearance of the toothpick grasshopper to suspend the seed safely where it is only 50% submerged. Three or four will do. It gets a little ridiculous after that.

Without me, there would be no avocados!

If nature cooperates properly, then avocado trees happen!

Wow, this lucky guy happens to have a whole avocado orgy hotspot on his patio! And I thought avocados were shy.

Seriously, though-- it's much harder to see how avocados ACTUALLY grow than an explosion of searches involving cups and toothpicks. In all actuality, it's just the right conditions. A seed that is undisturbed nestles in soil that is always oversaturated in warm weather conditions. It's not EXACT, but the best way for most people to simulate where it grows naturally is to make sure it's stable, half-submerged and warm. Of course, you have to look up how avocados grow in the wild to get any real answers as to how these seemingly stupid seeds didn't die when dodos did. They're a little picky, but thrive under certain conditions. That's all.

Or you can basic-bitch it. Apparently, toothpicks weren't enough.

Should I give it a mai-tai and a trust fund?

There's a lot about today's technology that is just accepted. Most kids are completely lost about how phones used to be or how music was distributed or how a freaking zipper works (it's either black magic or Steve Jobs, I'm 114% certain). I don't put my nephews down for not knowing. Half the time, I type it into YouTube and show them how something works that way. Sometimes I pick up a little factoid I didn't know, like the dates they were invented or discovered (I'm horrible with remembering dates).

Information is sometimes tailored to be too easy, which some people take at face value, but I can almost guarantee that no one thinks avocados actually exist because of toothpicks and water bottles.

Almost. I've read enough YouTube comments to doubt that common sense is all that common.

Transcendence

Every once in a while, we do something so groundbreaking, so phenomenal that we just have to share.

This isn't it.

Although, I did get a kick out of scribbling out some 'extreme' designs-in-a-minute. More like a few minutes each, but honesty doesn't have the same ring to it. My nephews think I broke some space-time barriers with my quickness so I like their version best.

A lotta forehead... or not-a forehead.

A nose you could stop a door with... or the oddly cute version of Skeletor's sister?

A girl who never has enough earrings or the alien with four earholes on her left side?

Moose knuckle or the girl who can accidentally lick her own neck?

Yeah, yeah, I know-- work on your comic, Krista. Don't worry; I'm playing with designs there too. I just dug out my old scanner to use until I get a new charger for my laptop and a scan cable for my printer. Even then, my traditional doodles kick some ass too. I'd like to at least roll out my comic's debut episode in hand-drawings. See if my bestie still wants to help me do flats once I get those sketched out. One thing at a time though. 

Did more planning for my second and third books of the series simultaneously since the overlap is becoming more important as I go. Fun stuff, this planning. Mildly irritated that some of my notes are on my laptop for the time being, but they're actually Book 4 details so I can do without them for the time being.

Either way, things are going. Setbacks are whatever. There's always something to do.

Selfish

Me. I'm selfish. I'm proud of that because I'm not using it in the same vilified sense that it gets injected into an insult.

My work comes first.

Also something you're probably not getting the context of because I haven't established any. I'm not one of those people that lives to work and the 8-hour work day is not the most productive once you look into it. Sitting at a computer all day is also a bad idea. Those 10 minute breaks every hour where I seem like I'm idling or procrastinating (when I'd rather be writing or drawing)-- those are there for the sake of this ideal of actual productivity.

It's true enough that most days I spend about 10-12 hours easy on work but it's all spread out over my waking moments (and sometimes perched around a nap when I'm really failing at real productivity). I don't ever take real vacations, but I play pretend and intentionally use that infuriating little 'stay-cation' word with a shit-eating grin to show you I know exactly how annoying it is.

I raise my nephews. (Like a boss.) I walk two hours a day. (Like a boss.) I have a social life so rare, it's still mooing.

(Like a cow.)

It's cool. I love the little guys, I don't hate walking, and I also have the coolest most understanding friends who get what creativity entails. They've all seen my room and wonder what Narnia vomited its idea of interior design into such a small space. 'Selfish' is what it took to chase the dream, but I've sacrificed. I pray to the tech gods that my shit won't break because I'm pretty broke and nothing is easy to replace. I miss when I could just go ahead and call someone up because I'm bored and I want to hang out with someone. Most days, my head is so into what I need to do that I plan social visits just so I can be sure I'm actually present and NOT thinking about what's waiting at home.

Work comes first, but to be honest, first place isn't a static factor or at the least, a lot of things share it simultaneously. It's possible to feed a hungry nephew while daydreaming what I stopped writing about and it's oddly possible to have a conversation with them sometimes while drawing (although it's also very likely I'll let slip what I'm doing in PhotoShop instead of what I actually meant to say). It's not exactly the most coherent or fully present version of me but it's a compromise. There was a time I'm not particularly proud of where I'd yell at any interruption or use the possibility of being interrupted as an excuse not to work at all. My nephews are at least old enough now that they're polite about interrupting and even supportive of what it takes to do it.

Gone are the days of putting myself last. It's not just society that makes women feel like it's okay to be self-sacrificing in terms of domestic or nurturing instincts-- sometimes it just exists in us and it's something we have to correct if it doesn't align with our ambitions. Women are encouraged plenty to embrace their nature and we can access self-empowerment without permission so I never blamed men or society for retreating into instincts against my primary ambitions. I also don't regret not going to college sooner or being who I've needed to be to balance raising kids and still being a creative powerhouse. I don't pretend my life is harder or easier than it is and I own the ups and downs. I'm okay with not fitting into liberal or conservative boxes. There are more than enough breeders and homemakers and laser-minded career bitches, etc. Human survival is not at risk for lack of any type of person. I'm okay with swatting flies coming at all sides.

Women like Christina Hoff Sommers exist. Level-headed and self-possessed people who operate with integrity, who push ahead with a clear voice and infinite patience. We live in a country that doesn't quite understand that true acceptance is within and too often it's an outcry for more boxes and less actual freedom of choice for anyone. It's less about respect and more about power/control over strangers. Expectations for the world around you are becoming the greatest source of misery in a country that should actually be flourishing. Who we project ourselves to be is just as vital as who we are. I can't tell you how often I see people completely baffled that they aren't seen as good people because they have 'good hearts' when they actually aren't aware that outwardly, they're projecting their worst defensive traits rather than their ideal. You know, like the 'nice guys' that feel entitled to the world's most 'beautiful' women simply by virtue of having a penis. Lack of self-awareness and entitlement is an ugly trap.

I get how hard it is to be yourself and I'm going to deviate from my original topic a bit because this just in: sometimes people suck. Today, I had to be polite to a man I wanted to punch in the face. I was out walking and saw this guy ahead of me, so I didn't think much of it. I turned down a street and no one was behind me-- until I noticed a shadow picking up speed behind me. I was almost immediately afraid because it was the guy who had been walking ahead of me before but I smiled despite the urge to scream 'creep!'. Not only did I thank him (with clear reluctance and no smiling) when he said I was 'cute' but I gave yes or no answers when he was asking personal questions because the details weren't really any of his business, but I wasn't sure if it would be safe to look away. I hated it, but I also didn't know what kind of psycho I could be dealing with who thinks approaching a strange woman like this was okay. I kept trying to put my earbuds back into my ears in a nervous gesture to signal I didn't want to talk but instead he asked me if I wanted to make five dollars. I had no idea if this was about drugs or sex but I doubted he really thought I was 'cute' but just trying to flatter me into doing something I didn't want to do (and I was insulted that I looked like I'm hard-up for five fucking dollars, possibly). I sped up past him and still I could hear him trying to press me to change my mind. In my mind, all I could think was 'go the fuck away' and' please don't stab me'. Or worse. I wasn't entirely convinced broad daylight or even the risk of neighbors coming to my aid was a deterrent at this point.

I was never more relieved when he gave up, but for the rest of the walk, I kept looking behind me and I never really relaxed. I didn't go home though. I was angry and I didn't want this to mean I'd be too afraid to leave my own house. Look, anything can happen out there. I'm always aware of that. Because of that, sometimes we don't survive by being 'real.' We have to forgive ourselves for what we lose sometimes to see another day (or greet another day without the shame of regret for what we didn't do). There's no manual, and we can't 'have it all' but coming up with a strategy for self-acceptance and survival is worth it. Locking yourself up in safe spaces isn't going to keep you safe from it all either, so risks are necessary to properly understand what is worth trying for.

Writing and drawing, they have their ups and downs too. It can be maddening and isolating if you are able to lock yourself away into it. People see working up to full-time writing as some utopia but it can be abused to self-destruction too if you don't exercise boundaries with it too. You can have too much of a good thing. You can lose a good thing if you take it for granted. Such is life.

Enjoying selfishness is a responsibility, but one you don't have to feel guilt for. Regret? Now there's something that can haunt you. Before I learned that missed opportunities aren't always the end of the world, I knew the sting. It's also useless to let them stick around rent-free. Writing does give me a good place to channel them, but writing is also not about me. Once I pass the baton to a character or a story, it's not about telling my story (because some of it is just not that exciting)-- it's about telling their story and detaching from the consequences and triumphs alike. At some point, I'm just their completely useless therapist, cashing in on how well I turn their life into a book.

Benevolent. Selfish. Hard-working. It's whatever. Just do what it takes to like yourself.

I blame the cow with the incredible hair.

Confession

While it's probably not a writerly thing to do, I want to make a confession. I say it's not very writerly because it's supposedly bad form to give people a potential bias against your work. However, I think examination is more valuable than preserving a reputation so I'm going for it.

I mean, it's not THAT bad...

Characters are not my favorite part of reading and it's my weakest part of writing.

No! I don't listen to gate-keepers!

Before you think I'm saying my characters suck and I should crawl off to a nice boring non-fiction, hear me out. I wouldn't say I'm bad at it. I love observing people and talking to people, but making characters is to my love of storytelling as social media is to actual human interaction. It can be thrilling, it can be emotional, but it just doesn't quite hit the same high feels of a real social interaction. It's the equivalent of a 'you had to be there' or trying to recall nostalgia in a photograph. It can be a great high, reading or writing something great but it's also not a substitute or better. Different, more like.

Story telling and world building is where I get my fix. I'm not going to pretend it's a unique concept. In fact, writers like Tolkien put most of us to shame. I'm not quite dedicated to the point of creating my own language or thousands of years of elfy, dwarfy history but I love the connections and I love the trees. I'm not obsessed with maps but I have a few crude sketches and know my elbow from my asshole.

Prove it? You don't see me trying to lick my asshole, do you?

The trees though... I love how things seemingly unrelated connect. I love seeing old branches spring forth with new buds. I even love when spiders tangle the hopeful new leaves with gossamer and choke them.

At some point, I realized I just don't bear the same confidence with characters. Not for lack of knowledge or authenticity or interest, but more because I kind of just winged it the first time I was able to write anything longer than a college thesis.

Yeah, I remember what my college thesis was about! It was about--

But I wondered if this was really that authentic. I'd over-written characters in the past and lost my way. Namely, I'd written them in so much detail that they just wouldn't fit the story anymore and I wasn't quite patient enough to set them aside and start a new one or edit them as I went. You're probably cringing at that. Edit the character to fit the story? Sacrilege! But yes, I believe that all elements are flexible, most especially the evolution of characters. In that sense, it shouldn't seem so horrible now. It's not unusual that writers claim their character 'misbehaves' or 'refuses to cooperate'. This is just the 'not a hipster' version of that.

Wait, hipster writers, I don't hate you! I'm just not into making disassociative identity disorders look cute and normal!

Removing the crutch of 'overplanning' seemed to be a breakthrough in gaining ground, but I began to wonder-- was it a crutch at all or if I just evolved as a writer without that being the factor? So, out of the blue, I've started a journey of back story, turning each character into their own little trees. Not like a profile or some formal neat arrangement; I just picked up a pen and started scribbling in a notebook. 

I know it's not a new discovery and it's not even new to me. With 'ambition for completion', I just temporarily lost a piece of the joy of just writing something for my stories that wouldn't be seen but still gives me a piece of confidence in my characters I wasn't so sure of with my winging-it approach. Okay, I still kind of wing it, but after I've written a bit about who they are, what they value, their past and their personality, I find it's a lot easier than going back on an edit AFTER I get to know them and constantly dealing with the aggravation of something that they wouldn't really say or do.

Another confession-- even though I did wing it with my first series a lot, I still enjoy the very robust characters throughout. They did go through some refinement in the many edits I did. They still hit all the right notes of being aggravating, beloved, frustrating, disgusting and/or flawed. I still see them as self-aware yet willful, people with demons and angels, some who get more chances than they deserve and some who die the first time they take a risk. I still see how they are trapped in their nature or struggling for discipline in a mind too free to choose who they are.

Starting this blog, I've always wanted it to be grounds for honest discussion. It's because I perceive making characters as my weakness that they might actually benefit from that criticism.  Given a chance, even with my love of the story, I'd still be inclined to talk about my characters in terms of how I would my friends. I'd see their ideals and aspirations at war with their actions and reactions, where their confidence falters and where they beam with their strengths. Sometimes a nicely formatted profile just makes them a nearly faceless job applicant to me. There's something oddly familiar about scribbling about them on paper with the frenzy of a diary entry. This feels like the right place to build that confidence.

In a way that a discovered diary is anything but.

He means the diaries. At least all the ones with hearts and your crushes' names in them.

Nope. Also, Nope.

I realize because of my last two topics, I probably seem like I need the number to a help hotline. I can assure you that, though inspired by dark moods, hormonal surges and the side effects of a diet my body is not happy about, those were simply topics I wanted to get serious about. I'm just someone who bounces between dark and humorous on a whim. Many times, they are even written on the same day and scheduled to look like I didn't write four posts in one day.

I could very well go into the fascinating topic of the biology and proclivities of men and women. Then again, I'm determined to drown out the extremes, negate the call for sterilization of gender, and mend fences.

Oh gawd, adorable tiny fences!

 Clotheslines, too? You can't be mad when it's miniature! (Although, I'm thinking men might immediately object to that.)

But let's not. I didn't exactly say I was DONE being jungle Jane (doesn't have the same zing as Tarzan) but I'm still swinging and not looking to blog under the influence.

For no reason.

Still saving for a charger and stuff. Still making do. Oh, I did paint a less creepy face on one of my dolls.

Annnnd, looking at the date, I better get off of here to start making birthday gifts for my nephews and my friend's little girl in early September. 

Hint: I can't knit. (It's going to be made out of beads.)

The Glass Left Behind

I vaguely remember the time I first saw writing referred to as bleeding on paper. I'm fairly sure my swollen bleeding brain was drawn to the possibility of giving the excess blood somewhere to go, even if that's probably not what most people seem to think it means (going by the context around it). When people say it, it always sounds as if they are just using a more violent means of 'going for the gusto'. It sounds like a risk you take when you've already given blood or you're anemic, that you're giving something that may be more than you were initially willing to, perhaps. I do know that the concept didn't make me uncomfortable, but I was certainly on edge. It's not giving my blood that scares me; it's drawing the sharks that want more. Very likely why some writers hoard their precious red gold.

Let's skip context for a second and start by saying that it's very difficult to explain emotional abuse to someone who has no experience with it. Even harder to explain to many people that blood doesn't make you immune and some of the worst offenders can be family (and largely because many societies cannot even perceive of disloyal family or that they could even do anything unforgivable-- this give the offenders a dangerous blind spot to exploit). I've seen some books do it well enough, able to plant sufficient terror and unease into the 'beloved' villain that torments the protagonist. To show what it's like to be the hostage when other people see only the luxury of your life. To have people judge you as ungrateful, jealous, lazy, even childish when you're being overwhelmed by someone who becomes more likable the more they tear you down, like their charisma is fed with your destruction.

To survive, I suppressed a lot of both the strengths and weaknesses of those experiences. I've tapped into the surface of those incidents to write in the past, but it's been a trying week to dig them out in preparation for the third book of my series (yes, UnSung is about 5/6 done, but since each book leads into the next, I have to make the lead-ins more fluid). I'm giving one of the characters more of my blood than I've ever allowed before. There are some differences between her and I, but if we sat down together and talked about family and friends, we'd have a great deal in common. Do I kill her or give her some story of triumph? Part of the reason I'm not making her 'me' like some writers do is that I don't want that to be a certainty, an emotional parallel that determines the story. I don't want to make her a Mary Sue or paint her as some kind of victim. Her importance is still a bit of a mystery to me.

Even though I'm dancing around it, the bleeding in the brain is the central theme. My brain as a youth, and my heart besides, was something I left to open air to absorb everything. I liked running around barefoot too, just to strengthen the idea. I never really saw a need for filtering, in a time before trauma could issue the need for caution. Perhaps why most bravado comes off as the trait of someone who bluffs or hasn't been tested yet and rarely through actual triumph under fire. But, experience; I could pick out what I liked and throw the rest back, right? It would be nice if a contaminated brain could just get tossed out and replaced, but instead, it's more like a wineglass shattering next to it and try as you might, you just can't pick out all the pieces. No matter how whole and neat you thought your mind, the broken things find all the imperfections. You settle it back in place, tilt your head to test it and everything seems like new. You probably pat your back, puff up with pride and start to swagger into the day.

The pain is blinding. Your eye twitches, an impossibly fast shadow just out of focus. Your foot turns and you hold your breath, relieved that you don't wrench your ankle at least. A lingering sense of vertigo remains and you shoot a quick sidelong glance, your ego recovering enough to hope no one saw what looked like forgetting how to walk.

You tilt your head like you did the time before, only this time, it's cautious. Before you can meet the same vigor of your first test, the splitting pain strikes again. Damn. You're out now; you can't just go home, root around for the glass again. So you get through the day, recovering from every stab with a sudden smile, every stumble with a silly dance, every whimper with a tuneless hum.

When you can finally get around to it, it's gone too deep. You can't be sure if it had already been too far even before you felt it or not, but you tell yourself that you should have looked harder, been more careful. You frantically look for it anyway, only now it's not just glass, but the dirt under your fingernails, the errant hairs floating around, the dust, the icky sticky bugs...

It's bad enough when you have only yourself to blame. Sometimes your glass was put in by a surgeon and it will take a surgeon to get it back out. Yet you swear you know yourself better than anyone and don't want just anyone rooting around in there.

People suffer in silence for reasons that outnumber the sands on this earth. The problem with something getting in is that it has little to do with a fault of strength. We get sick when we need to eat but sometimes we miss the signs that the food was prepared wrong. We get sick when the invisible germs travel by air when we take a breath or nibble on a nail that touched the contaminated door handle. Sometimes we'd rather show up to work barely able to stand rather than admit we aren't invulnerable. Some fault is seen in our life choices, how we take care of ourselves and we are never allowed to blame anyone because all fault is supposed to begin and end with us. There's often more to lose than gain and it's easier to pretend things are handled.

Sometimes we are only so sick because we just tell ourselves it's glorious to be broken. No life is without struggle, but perhaps it is only so bad because the generic band-aids that are in fashion are only making it worse.

People might think our smiles and show of strength and optimism are signs that we're onto some secret of happiness that they covet. There's almost a societally acceptable amount of misery that must be worn to be invisible to this scrutiny or at least not attract the psychopaths that can't tell the difference (or don't care even if they can).

As you can see (or have even done before), it's not difficult to find the analogies, the physical reactions and defenses behind the psychology but it's a very different beast to dissect the psychology, form the characters and the subtlety of the situations. Experience is still limiting since, like my abusers, they were very much counting on the trauma to make it difficult or even impossible for me to find aid or peace. Even parts of my childhood have been eaten away. Your brain sometimes takes more than it needs to, just in case.

I want this for my story though. I can't bear the thought of what hell a memoir would open so I don't even entertain it as non-fiction. What this woman goes through, I won't even dare to assign the same offenders by relation to her lest the comparison be damning, but I'll Frankenstein my experience into this theme because if I don't, I'll make it too sterile and safe. If this is what they mean by bleed, it comes mixed with pain and relief but also the apprehension that I'll have to let it go before it festers. Which means if I write it, I'll be itching to publish it just as much.

But hasn't that always been the case?

I've said many times before, but there is no need to assume all writers are only coming from a place of damage and depression and torment. Sure, for many of us, it's a fact of life, but one thing that is certain is that that mindset is useless to me when I work. Yes, useless. This is inherently why I go through a vulnerable planning phase, to take notes and tap into the messy parts then fortify myself to be the observer to work, to dive back in with the experience, the plan and the narration ready to make sense. I did this as a musician and I do it as an artist. How well do you think I can play flute when the music sneaks up on me and makes me sob? How well do you think I can draw when I'm trembling with emotion? Those things are a complete nuisance to the actual process so finding the mastery to interpret them will never work when I'm in the mindset to work and end up blubbering on my keyboard (the silicone cover on my keyboard is for possible coffee spillage, not my tears).

I know that many people are emotional writers. It's not that I'm not at all, but I can't say that I actually keep the resulting mess of that. It's just not where my stories work.

If only to defend my method, I can't tell you how many times people are surprised when they find out authors like JK Rowling and Sherilynn Kenyon started their famous books in the thick of depression. It doesn't really show, does it? They weren't looking to be locked in that stagnation but to turn magic on it. How many comedians turn their pain into laughter? This obsession with the idea that creatives are locked into this tunnel of only focusing on their real problems is just myopic.

In a sense, you could romanticize their shards of glass as prisms of transcendent light. Can't say I haven't tried to look at it that way. However, I think the glass still cuts sometimes. Life is what we do with the pain.

... Scratch all that. I think I've found my newest writing method.

When We Look For Advice, We Aren't Looking for 'Experts'

If just looking for experts in a field was a surefire way to be like them, to have just a little taste of their success or find the perfect method. Yet pour through their blogs, videos and podcasts and even those who aren't selling pills, webinars and their time/expertise (the ones with freebies) are often dishonest, if only because they don't mention one thing at some point.

They honestly have no clue how they made it.

Each of them spout hard work, opportunities, but again-- if they don't throw luck in there, it's not quite honest.

Fans could easily tell you what they like about your work. Trolls can tell you why they dislike it. Between those extremes, you may get a more level-headed assessment but that doesn't mean you'll find the definitive answer there.

Now, I didn't go looking for the magic pill to write this. Maybe ten or fifteen years ago, I sought out this elusive magic and learned that even when something works, it may not work again or time will alter how something affects you. Adaptability and personal tolerance are factors, not just chemically, but physically, mentally, emotionally. If you have a doctor/friend/guru that truly cares about you, you'll face several adjustments to your journey or need a new mentor altogether when you feel they're just not jibing with what you need. You may need help, you may need isolation and reflection. 

I did go hunting for current videos/blogs/etc. offering advice. It wasn't so much to find something new to try. More often than not, they're echoes of each other, but if you're lucky you might find one using a unique voice or just a little tweak from what you've tried, something that might actually be the breakthrough in your doubts that keeps you going. 

When we look for advice, sometimes we're just trying to touch base with parts of ourselves buried under a muck of other priorities. We're looking for the meditation to find what we want to be doing. Some of us are fine with delving into fiction and wandering until we stumble on what we didn't know we were looking for. I have the habit of looking for non-fiction articles, a quick fix before I get into creation.

This is largely why I've never taken to the 'how many books have you read in x amount of time' fad. I don't keep track and lately, I haven't read books. If I sit down to read a book, it has to be concentrated on in one sitting or a handful of days consecutively or it gets lost when my brain discards it in favor of what it thinks it needs to work. Reading, as a writer, is important. However, the marathons aren't the only efforts that count. Look at track events in the Olympics that are done in the blink of an eye. There are years of discipline jammed into small parcels. It's a great place to learn how to condense big ideas.

While I do look at novels for methods of the long game, I always feel my attention is engaged more when authors aren't aiming for high word counts with poetry and filler. It's the kind of author I aim to be now. However, I also like to write those detail-heavy stories (romance is one such place that uses this) that let you exercise your ego and penchant for observing and capturing every detail. I sometimes read what I'm not at all fond of just to assess why I don't. It's easy to write what you don't want to read when you don't make the conscious effort to avoid it. Your brain just sometimes flows with the familiar, not whether you should or shouldn't, but you can always train your brain to pick up on it later.

Yeah, I could write a blue streak about why women are drawn to 'romantic detail'. The gist of it being that many females are more biologically attuned to haptic stimulation, and any pursuit that simulates control over touch can be not just an aphrodisiac, but a high level mental stimulus. This is also connected to why women tend to be drawn to repetition (puzzle and simulation games, 'you've read one romance, you've read them all.'). I wouldn't say it's a rule, all you 'not one of those women', however, it's a fascinating read in female psychology how sex, for women, isn't always just about sex. Even being a non-traditional female, it turns out I do share and utilize feminine-dominant traits and I'm not at all ashamed of that. I'd love to go into this subject someday but this isn't the day.

'Experts' aren't the only ones with insight, is what I'm getting at. I'm no self-proclaimed sexpert or psychologist but I bet you could pick anyone's brain on something they've been intrigued about and come up some more unique takes on your theme involving it. Look for stimulus. It's amazing for writer's block too.

Because Giving Up Isn't Easier

When you're rolling down a hill and realize it hurts, even if you give up, let your limbs go limp, you'll still keep tumbling but you'll most likely end up a lot more broken.

Regrets are more fun with friends.

Yet when you're sinking in quicksand, effort is usually a great way to sink faster and end up overcome before you can think of a better way to get out.

Let's face it; if we ever get out of this, we're never eating oatmeal again.

When you're a serial self-defeatist, you'll take the first analogy and 'defend' it with the second, which forces us to drop the analogies and get to the heart of it.

You're not rolling down a hill and you're not stuck in quicksand, quickly checking my blog to see if I get to the point and offer a rescue solution, so where are you?

She's still figuring out how to turn it on.

You tried and failed, or at least didn't achieve immediate satisfaction, so it's okay to give up, right? I can't answer that. What I can say is that we often see giving up as a reprieve from further failure or the insanity of futility. However, we just as often carry a rather uncomfortable burden when giving up wasn't the best idea.

You can't possibly be THIS bad at life.

I'm not inexperienced with giving up. I've often been encouraged to keep going with something I've tried but lost all love for it. It's not unusual to get a tons of supporters and no patrons. We can survive it and keep pressing...

If it's truly what you want to do.

I've been blessed/cursed with a life full of odd jobs. While lumped in as service/retail in nature, I've been through the gauntlet: pizza cook, bookseller, cashier, jewelry seller, florist, crochet crafter. While I found immense pleasure in the learning and new skill sets, I knew at some point that I was clawing at air. It wasn't a matter of financial success or ability or difficulty that ultimately made them fall off but they weren't something I truly enjoyed when push came to shove. I didn't want to smell like food 24-7, I'd rather read or write books, fuck standing at a register, there was too much sexism in being the jewelry counter chick, loved flowers but hated the corporate fuckery, crochet was joyless outside of being a hobby (unless you're fond of most people equating you to a factory worker in an impoverished country).

Only 2,000 more stitches to go (for a hat)!

I'm simplifying those a bit, but they didn't stand up to adversity and a part of me knew as much but gave it a shot anyway. In truth, I knew that telling stories was what I wanted to do. I can be pretty damn funny in casual conversation but speaking in crowds became mortifying after elementary school when I was a lead in school plays and I've never taken to it since. I love to draw, I love to write-- I knew damn well my peace with failure lie there.

How do we know? We don't until we do. I can't offer you a revolutionary new idea here. Despite being told any number of discouraging things or even the punch to the gut that it was, I never heard that little voice that said it wouldn't work out when it comes to writing and drawing. It might have said some pretty distinct trash talk but it didn't kill me. My muse is a powerful whisperer and she always says--

"My reign has just begun."

My calling just didn't accept the first analogy and was even further from the second. I was Sisyphus pushing the rock up the hill. Could it be in futility? No. I've pushed a lot of rocks up hills but this one is different. In my mind, I will wear the hill flat. First the grass will give, then the dirt will start to crumble. I'll wear the boulder smooth.

In case you didn't get the Sisyphus reference...

It sounds like it gets easier, right? Perhaps sometimes the path is flat but sometimes the smooth shiny rock will catch the sun and blind me. Maybe I'll stop to wipe the sting of sweat and it will roll down on top of me. I might accidentally flatten someone's house pet. I'll blister, bleed, cry and curse and still... I know even if I lay at the bottom under the rock, sure I'm done, something growls with primal need and I push the rock again.

Huh. Well, it's not THAT heavy. Now I just feel silly.

You can stop all you want but it's not easier. When it haunts you, you know giving up is out of the question. You might need to toss aside some of the smaller experiences that you thought you wanted, but when you find the one, nothing is easy.

A serial self-defeatist will decide that a calling sounds too scary. They'll lament a life in the comfort of misery and tell successful people they're only lucky. They won't risk the scary unknown for a real chance to achieve happiness.

Would we really have such amazing things in this world if success were guaranteed? The problem is the big picture. We see what we can do and we see where we want it to lead. Success comes in steps and not linear ones. Even those who plan, don't plan for the branches of trial and error, of failure and outside forces. Plan small, plan possible. If writing those long term goals is really a hopeful exercise, don't write it on the same page of what you need to work for now. There will be steps you didn't see, micro opportunities that present themselves.

Record your achievements no matter how small. I have a horrible memory so I did this for my fitness journal so I could see every little change. I didn't do it for fear of giving up but so I could see for myself there was never a day without progress. With writing, the word count grows. I didn't have that marker for exercise and namely because it's not always visible (especially for those with body dysmorphia). Our bodies forget pain and disability as much as possible. Sometimes I wanted to see for myself exactly when 3 pushups was hard and when 30 was standard.

When you're used to self defeat, start a new pattern like this. File your stories or drawings by date. Look at the progression of your efforts. It's harder to give up when you have so many reasons not to.

Some people are miserable yet afraid of giving up. Especially when it's a dream that isn't taking off. If you're truly improving, truly getting better but you're in a slump, don't be afraid to pull away for days, weeks, months, years. If it's truly what you want, the hunger won't go anywhere. Sometimes allowing the distance allows those rutted ideas to find higher ground. Allow the highs and lows. Forcing it won't always work, waiting won't always work. You might need to focus on one thing or spread out to compliment your natural inspirations.

Even when you're not actively working on your project, you might find yourself in the mood, more often than not, to read articles about it, edit or beta read, jot things down, scribble out a picture. This is productive. Don't tell yourself it's not what you should be doing. Sometimes what we demean as procrastination is where you're developing a methodology that will be your most effective tools.

If you must stop, an unfinished project might be a temptation more than having finished and hanging out with what to do next. On the bright side, creative pursuits aren't the most painful place to stop.

I'll just stop riiiiiight here.

The Struggle

Old Me might have panicked immediately when my laptop charger died. New Me was disappointed but determined. I'll be without a laptop for a while but I planned my dedication to writing and being broke for just this sort of inevitability. Solution? Bluetooth Apple keyboard + iPad mini and Word app= temporary writing get-up. It does mean UnSung will slow down, but I'm in a planning phase with it anyway. 

I figured it's time to set down some more work on the Dreampunk Chronicles, the YA Steampunk Fantasy involving two young women desperate to find the reason behind their unique ability to travel between worlds, one of my Word-friendly files. 

It'll take some time to save for a new charger (and fish food and a printer cable). Kind of a stretch but if anyone wants to purchase anything I've crocheted, drop me an email and I can link you with pics of what I have for sale and we can negotiate a price (shipping alone is $5-7 through USPS these days, so keep that in mind).

Either way, there's always gift card surveys! And I always have workarounds and other projects. I'm still not excited about the prospect of aggressive book marketing when I have so much I want to finish first. When I'm not writing, I still like poking at concept sketches for Rock My World. It's a setback, not a roadblock.

It's been a sort of sluggish week though. The passing of a girl I grew up with, one of my earliest friends, has left me glum. I didn't know her very well over the years, mostly just kept connected through social media, but she was a great person and the world has too few. I'm not immobile, but then I'm no stranger to grief and am versed in mobility being crucial to healing.

I'm hoping to pull together some more upbeat posts. Sometimes a contrast to a mood is the medicine you need.

Why Some of Us Will Never Be Vegans

First and foremost, I have no problems with veganism itself. As a diet. Let me reiterate that, as both someone who cares for animals and humans, I don't have it in me to automatically dislike someone for the choices they make, whether I like them or not. I frown on cruelty, hatred, unkindness, and purposely pissing people off. I also frown on lifestyle choices that infringe on other people's lifestyle choices or use morality as an excuse for being a bastard.  That being said, I'll try to parse this up with as much diplomacy as I can muster.

1. Eating meat or animal byproducts is not necessarily cruelty.

There's this idea that because we CAN eat without harming animals, that because we're so advanced and aware, we should be the benevolent doormats of the earth. I know the science. I've watched the vegan documentaries. I've read studies and watched people bitch about it. I equally hate what equates to animal snuff videos and I think hunters that kill just to kill and gloat are ignorant bastards. However, your average hunters have a damn good point about using our intellect and studies to control animal population and even feel the remorse and importance of using the remains rather than leaving them to rot and waste. Well, why don't we control animal populations? Good question and I ask myself that too. Mainly because we ARE the prominent species and we set the laws for bodily autonomy and sometimes they suck. Because I'm pro-choice, I also care about babies and people, not fetuses. I understand that this is an opinion and not one that everyone shares. Call me immoral but it's not for me to decide for someone else nor demand their reasons for it.

It's not either or. I care about animals too. I absolutely adore my cichlids but they have the tendency to eat each other. Should I tell you why I'm not morally opposed to that? It's because this practice is their way of preserving the population of the ones most likely to thrive and because if all 400 eggs lived every time, I could easily destroy the pond ecosystems around here trying to set free all the ones I couldn't afford to feed. Animals, though of a different intelligence, do have a built-in ability to understand the needs of their ecosystem. Humans are... well, we're TOO fucking compassionate. Some of us literally hug the planet to death, and that includes all the ones claiming the moral high ground. In fact, they're often the most myopic about how much damage they might actually be doing. Somehow our higher intelligence created the concept of cruelty and it can even be toxic in its extremes because drawing moral lines is always going to create 'good' and 'bad' that is sometimes really neither.

I'm the kind of person that when your pet bird chomps on my nose, I'll cry while I gently pinch its beak open or when your puppy is running free, I'll snatch it up from running in the street even when it bites my arm bloody (true stories). I don't hate animals but I accept they are both capable of kindness and being bastards the world is probably better off without. Cruelty is a shaky construct and you're just not going to win everyone on this.

2. Not all of us are creatures of excess.

While I can agree that all wealthy countries are consuming too much, it's not just about meat. There are many of us who already consume in moderation. I rarely eat steak, mostly a fan of fish and sometimes turkey or chicken, but I actually love veggies and fruits and even weird ones like seaweed. Vegans often argue a blue streak about how its not a lifestyle of excess, but if everyone were to become a vegan, agriculture's excess would be more destructive than animal meat production. I'm sure someone is making up for my not-so-meaty diet with three times what a person should eat, but again-- it's not my duty to worry about the balance of my diet and lament the futility of reducing my carbon footprint to account for all the heathens that muddy mine.

The arguments about heart disease and the problems of obesity come from abuse, not use. Which brings me to the next one.

3. Some of us can't. Can't 'work up to it', can't 'adjust to it', CAN'T.

I was born with poor circulation and a picky digestive system. It took me a lot of trial and error over the years to find a regular diet that works. If I want to get adventurous, I have the pleasure of taking a big swig of minty milk of magnesia before I eat. Veggies, as much as I do love, are the most destructive in the quantities it takes to make a vegan diet sustainable. Sorry, but it's just not for everyone. You have to have the genetic predisposition to handle such a drastic change and for some people it's not worth it or even dangerous. I'm sorry, but it just is. Some people can't tolerate grains. Some can't tolerate legumes some can't tolerate supplements. And here's the next point.

4. Some people don't want to swallow dickloads of supplements. 

B12, y'all. You knew it was coming, but it's kind of a big one to need. 8-9 horse capsules of algae are about the top candidate for this one. Yeah, yeah, you can grow veggies in B12 rich soil. However, you still have to consume a ton to reach that daily minimum. Speaking of which...

5. Grazing... grazing, grazing, grazing.

At one point of my life, I was an obsessive gum chewer. So my jaw muscles are pretty pro. But an attempt at a veggie heavy diet was the thing to push me over the threshold of jaw pain. So much chewing for raw veggies which is one of the few ways you even get to keep the bulk of nutrients in them. You have to eat a ton of bland joyless food and...

6. It's a lifestyle... of the time-consuming kind.

I went on strict diets when my health took a downturn and it made me think about food all the time. Low calorie foods mean you get to eat more to reach your goal, but at some point, I got tired-- of the prep, the constant obsession with when I would eat next, of the sheer volume and time spent thinking about it. Most 'successful vegans' are also fitness, health, and medical in nature and understandably. Because of how particular it is, it's very likely to be damn near your hobbies and work all wrapped in one. Where do you find the time for anything besides eating and sleeping? I've never met a vegan that isn't talking about it, in fact. One of the things that often triggered depression in my life is that a fitness/diet life took me WAY too far away from accomplishing creative goals, way more so than just a conscientious but still healthy diet.

Not too mention, it's a first-world luxury to have that kind of dedication. And one that is also...

7. Expensive. It's expensive.

And this isn't limited to veganism. Any diet requiring supplements that look at caloric intake, nutrients, or just above average amounts of anything are not going to be on sale that week if ever. When I did P90X, they were pushing Shakeology because holy hell, you need a lot of protein to handle the abuse. I've tried to find ways to actually make the extremes of healthy eating and advanced fitness possible but it's a lost cause and... again, time-consuming. I don't want to go on a 3 hour tour every two or three days. It demands too much from my time, my wallet and my aspirations (and yes, I care about those too).

8. Some of us are foodies.

Culinary appreciation can take some wild adventurous turns. We love watching global cooking shows. You might be able to sell a plant-based diet, vegetarian, to a foodie, but when you take away the egg and dairy, it's just a culinary nightmare. The idea of a world so conscientious about morality that food becomes joyless and efficient alone would be a sad world indeed. I know that vegans see it as a sacrifice, the ultimate virtue that saves thousands, but please, take that victory for yourself and let the beauty of culinary art alone.

9. It's kind of a cult at its worst (and what isn't?).

I wouldn't say this goes for all vegans. I'm sure some of you have worked out how to be really zen, self-content people who probably even convert people to veganism with your awesomeness alone. More power to you. Unfortunately, most of us deal with the Crusaders/Inquisitioners that are calling for the genocide of all who think or live differently. Most vegans are not very tolerable to be around, but I'm not calling for veganism to be illegal just because I don't agree with it. However, the fact being for every lifestyle where people can have good intentions, you're going to have the idiots that ruin it for everyone being the loudest voices for it. If this lifestyle is for you, keep it for you. And if you're ready to feed your fellow humans to lions for not conforming, that may be a big fat red flag that it's a not-so-good obsession (just a tad hypocritical too).

10. Extreme veganism is not that moral.

It's one thing to morally oppose cruelty (those three words together... I almost vomited), another to infringe on others to push the belief. Is it any different to opposing gay marriage, bodily autonomy, etc? While I hate generalizations and comparisons, moral opposition should just never be the RULE, the standard of 'protection' through sterilization. I don't believe you can compare animal and human suffering anymore than you can compare one human's pain to another's. Laws for cruelty against humans is a mark of society and civilization and the laws we use to protect ourselves are more complicated. Most of us do seek to preserve the environment and the balance of ecosystems, but there's a tug of war even among our own kind on how far you can overlap morality with human rights.

Although vegans are often pegged as far leftists, many are perfectly okay with assuming you're worthless if you don't adhere to their damn near conservative outlook on their lifestyle. Using morals as empirical evidence is not transcendent, it's invasive of free will. Although that fits in with the SJW sort of mania, a selective form of tolerance that claims to be the champion of the weak, assuming that the world is full of victims and oppressors and if you're not one, you're the other... That is truly immoral. You take away the ability for people to defend their contributions, to be flawed but valuable, and essentially no one is good. No one. There's that silly saying that when you point, you have three fingers pointing back at you. But there's simply no way to vilify people without yourself being the bad guy too. If you truly find it to be a valuable lifestyle, you sell it with love. Not the bitter taste of joyless vegetable warfare.

Is it an accident or pure greed that turned the first humans towards meat-based diets? It certainly wasn't the easiest way to eat, risking so much to hunt for food rather than gather it. Is a moral standpoint a luxury in a struggling economy? Is it class warfare to lord that over people? 

11. We're not done evolving.

I won't argue that evolution is indeed a fact. I've run the gauntlet backwards of these ridiculous rebuttals with assless chaps and I'm sure you have no new valid proof to refute it. While the Stoned Ape hypothesis is up in the air, it's THEORY (which if you didn't know is a provable set of facts that can be added to but no longer dissolved) that evolution was made possible through the consumption of meat. It carved our path from primate to human, enlarging our skulls and brains to accommodate this lovely complex brain and the egos that protect them. Even though I'm not forwarding my genes in the pool to contribute to the possible future of it, I hope that people continue to evolve through diet and smarter bodies that learn how to process the lifestyles of the sedentary thinkers. That we get less Trumps and more Musks. Better, people who have evolved to eat, sleep, and shit less and think, innovate and better more. A culture of real tolerance and adaptability and progress, one less apt to wish and more prone to DO. Human bodies are not done. We're stupidly fragile, easily offended, myopic about struggle and yet most of us do little more than complain and lament. Processed foods are not the answer, but veganism isn't the sole way to go.

-------

Again, I appreciate the vegans out there that are confident enough in their choices to be content in them for their own reasons. I make these arguments only to vent the frustration I have with the truly hard-hearted and downright intolerable. We need a world more capable of balance, not moral decision. Compassion, love, respect, trust-- with conditions. Now, I can't decide what is moral. That's no one's burden or even within anyone's abilities to decide that for everyone else. Society has some burden to create harmony but that is separate from the balance of individual morals. I'm convinced that perceiving our world in terms of victims and oppressors is a dangerous path. This is a world that needs the voices of the individuals-- the patience to listen and the ability to speak with diplomacy. There are not many people that truly care to look past words, to look at intent and context without twisting it towards their bias, prioritizing what they are entitled to.

I've said before-- ego can be a wonderful thing. If it can drive you as a person, not how you think others should see you or respond to you, I'm all for it. Egos done well do not crush and belittle someone else. My friend Joe will tell anyone; he has an enormous ego. Yet he is one of the most insightful, talented, generous people I know. I will gladly support that ego because it is truly caring, truly beneficial and truly deserved in my eyes. I will gladly support any individual that can feed my ego too, truth be told. Yes, there are conditions, but I promise, it's a case by case basis and I'm not a harsh judge. Really, just don't be a superficial dick and we're good.

A quick addition before I leave, but I'm really not opposed to anyone's dietary decisions. It's not my body, so I truly don't care what you do. I know plenty of vegetarians (again, of the annoyingly virtuous sort and the ones who are at peace with dietary limitations or decisions). I have no issue or disgust with feeding anyone I invite nor care if they'd rather bring their own. My big issue lies with the 'do as I do' insistence. I won't argue that it might be perfectly healthy or virtuous. You're just not going to sell me on restriction when moderation is my preferred compromise. The paleo diet is also working for some people. You might be right that it's not healthy or not moral, but it's still their life to decide for. A lot of things that aren't perceived as immoral actually exist to reduce the damage caused by the prohibition of 'lesser evils'.

In the Land of Beta

I consider myself very lucky here, but I have yet to read for someone where I was devastated that it was a disaster or I didn't like it. I would say I'm careful about vetting but generally, I'll pick someone's request based on 'this is my genre, this-many words, and here's a one sentence description.' That is a huge gamble, but I also know how frustrating it is for writers when they hear crickets instead of interest, so sometimes I just go with my gut.

My latest beta read was a middle-grade science fiction novel by Jill Creech Bauer. Now, usually I stick to a critique, but when I feel a connection to the story I sometimes go ahead and play content editor and really get into scene order and overall style. In this case, I went all out and threw in a six-page assessment-- this isn't something I normally do since it's above and beyond. I would certainly charge for content, copy, and proofreading work, but sometimes I like to show off my chops and build a solid relationship with a writer instead of hedging on what falls under 'free work.'

This is a very important distinction. Artists and writers are indeed open to windows of generosity, but it has to come from our own desire to do so. It's almost never okay to ask someone to 'do them a favor'. Number one, it eliminates the ability to enjoy surprising someone with the extra effort when it's expected. Number two, we often work in our 'good Samaritan' bursts in the lulls of big projects. Our windows sometimes close at the end of this effort and only open again after another long, grueling session in our own aspirations.

I always consider it a success when I get back a reply that they loved my effort and have more that I can look at if I would like to read more. It's not a demand or a scheduled proposition, but it is an open invitation to continue the good rapport. This is a good way to get into my address book. It might take 3, 6, 9 months for me to get back to them, but they also understand this as creators themselves and often have a great memory for the experience and are genuinely grateful for the interest.

I'm juggling some concept building for my UnQuadrilogy while I'm poring over a screenplay for another established writer, but as I tell other writers all the time-- I do not expect reciprocation for helping with their work. I'm also not seeking to put other fine editors out of work by extending my availability. For me, this is a superb chance to help people past the blind spots in their work and look more keenly at the blind spots I have for my own. This isn't one-sided by any means, and it's even uplifting to do something kind without keeping count. I often see techniques that I haven't thought about using myself, so it absolutely does pay into my own work in that respect. 

Also, it's hidden treasure. This isn't a mainstream book/work that everyone is talking about (yet). I'm getting first dibs and real input and insight. I get to feel this secret hope that they DO find commercial success and that I get the bragging rights of working with talented people. Yes, I am a 'talented people' but they say it's lonely at the top. I'm not sure I could be content just getting to the top without using that fortune to help others. Who knows-- maybe they'll need a good assistant/editor/artist and think of me first. Maybe they'll forget me-- again, if I did this with any expectations, I'm doing it wrong, but it also doesn't hurt to dream of the possibilities. Right now, I love the social interactions, the boost of learning and growth, and the hope of what I am capable of.

This was never about fame, but fulfillment. If fortune could come without fame, I would take that too. But even in this stage where I just quietly plug away and test every pond for magical waters, there's simply no downside to doing what I'm good at. When you're in better health than you've been in a decade (mentally, physically, emotionally) and you're taking creative risks to learn your potential, it's humbling, amazing, and frightening. My grind isn't a 9-5 with insurance and a stable paycheck. As much as I miss the security, it was a dead-end misery that I failed at again and again.

And holy hells, I got my nephews interested in reading! I gave them my gaming enthusiasm but reading was a lost cause until I started writing. Being able to tell them about amazing books and the delights of tapping into their own imagination has been another great way to interact. They are very visual still so I love finding interesting science videos for us to watch together, but getting them interested in reading is no mean feat!

A Birth Day and a Shocking Death

I have to admit that this week put a crunch on my plans. Today, I wanted to drop a Happy Birthday to my brother Ryan and my niece Melody (her birthday is tomorrow) but the girl who lived next door to me growing up, one that I've kept in contact with over social media and only a few years older than me...

She died in her sleep.

My condolences to her mother Mary, brother Bobby, husband Korey, their little boy Kendrick (only a few years old) and teenage daughters. Grief is not something I've ever mastered because there's naught to be said or done to salve it. Not that I expect them to read this, but I wanted it to be out there. Just last week, she was having fun with friends, looking healthy in pictures. I know her sciatic nerve was giving her hell, but otherwise I have no clue what the human body is thinking when it just shuts down like that. I know it happens and it's scary and shocking, but we still catch ourselves numb but twitching with one word questions. I don't often cry right when hearing news like this, but this hit hard and fast. She will most definitely be missed and we break to become something completely new again. You don't really heal after loss. You just reassemble on little more than instinct and disbelief and hope. Even nearly 18 months after losing my mom, I still have those dumb moments where I'm thinking I need to call her. Those moments where you laugh at something they would have found funny, those can hang like melancholy instead when you mentally reach for them.

I think I'll leave it at this for today. Tomorrow, I'll aim for something more upbeat or informative. Writing has always been healing so it certainly doesn't stop here. However, I do want to think some more. Even though this marks a week since I got the news, I didn't want to reduce my reaction to an impulse. I might not have been super close to her and her life, but certainly it's more personal than just another celebrity death or something I'm distant from. It's always painful to lose a truly good person. There's such a shortage that its absence is certainly felt.

Kristen Thurman (neé LaManna), you'll be missed.

Smoking in the Boy's (Girl's) Room

Wait, no! Come back! says the total believable hipster stock photo...

No, this isn't advocating smoking nor some gendered argument, so calm your tits.

Let's talk interior design!

Whatever she's pointing at, that's where it is, whatever 'it' is. It's terrific, I swear.

I swear this is about writing! One thing that will absolutely trip up a reader is thinking they're living in your head space when space is crucial to the action. Even a fantasy novelist that loves making world maps isn't going to want to reduce themselves to interior design for every indoor scene so there are a few things you're going to want to do to make your interior maze flow with the speed of your imagination.

Keep in mind, this is for the writers who don't have a photographic memory as a superpower. If you do, and I mean ON LOCK, then the first two headings about visual reference, you can go ahead and skip.

Source it!

These are the pictures for your viewing while you attempt to explain. Since you're not attaching them directly to the published work, it can be anything-- watermarked photos, drawings, scribbles so awful they might as well be encrypted. You might not have a gift for visually translating what's in your head, but you'll need a facsimile of the room or rooms your characters will be maneuvering around. I can't stress this enough; find your floor plan or mock it up. 

One of the most crucial aspects of environmental travel is where the doors are located. In the most complex designs, doors are the key to directing people through your rooms. When someone asks where your bathroom is, there's a strong likelihood you've said something along the lines of 'two doors down on the right'. Unlike outdoor travel, compass directions are likely to be met with hostility so you're going to need 'landmarks' in your mental layout that you might very well flip without realizing it. Then suddenly your people are teleporting. You absolutely need to understand and memorize the basic locations of entrances, stairs, closets. No matter how big your rooms are or how they're shaped, people need to know how the hell they got there in the first place. Lose them there and it's all downhill.

Side note: floors. If height is a factor, work that in early.

*sigh* We've lost another king. I keep telling you that window looks like a door and we're 30 stories up...

Furnish it!

You don't always need to pinpoint every poster, plant or creepy stuffed pet on the mantle, but anything that will be interacted with or possibly run into will need to be added to the floor plan. Wardrobes, chairs, tables, beds, bathtubs, sinks, ceiling fans, chandeliers-- remember, think about the WHOLE room, rug to overhead lamps if there will be ANY possibility of interaction. Now, sometimes you can skip this-- if you have a knack for remembering furniture in relation to the doors and traffic then you're good. However, you're probably going to run into an error in placement if you're not absolutely positive on this. One of the reasons you need to take a long walk away from your draft is because you will need to look at these rooms from the newest eyes possible. Your reader has no memory or insight into this place. That's your burden to fill in if it's important.

And there was never another four piece long again...

Plan it!

Once you're certain you've mapped the room, your next challenge is to incorporate it without an info dump. It is a scene, not a character and unless you're writing a non-fiction on interior design, your readers don't care about your Tiffany lamps, elven sword collection, or how stained glass windows are made. Some writers try to excuse info-dumps as it being 'what the character sees' but to most readers, it's transparent and controlling prose that pulls them out of the story. Challenge yourself to limit visual interactions as little as possible and stick to what draws an immediate emotional response (awe, no matter how impressive, is passive-- an easy way out). If you draw attention to what they're hearing, either immediately explain the noise or draw them to follow it to find out. If they feel a draft, where is it coming from and does it affect their mood or attention? Lay the foundations of each sensation; don't just expect the reader to be in love with everything the character is experiencing. Unless your character is a narcissist, they're not holding the reader hostage.

Would you fuck me? I'd fuck me. I'd fuck me hard. I'd fuck me so hard.

 If you're writing a screenplay, you might need more control of the scene. If you're writing poetry, well, purple is your favorite color. If you're in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, your character is going to be overwhelmed with all of it and it's perfectly fine for awe to sound like 'holy shit, is that a peanut brittle boat on a chocolate river?" In any overwhelming scene of beauty and whimsy, your character is not slow-panning on its majesty. Their eyes are usually darting to very specific scenes and you will slo-mo your scene to hell and back the minute you feel like you have to control every aspect of it. As a novelist, especially for young adults and up, sometimes it's best to trust your audience. Adjective chains are old news. If you want to show off your voice, make it quirky. Just like cars have faces and clouds look like middle fingers, sometimes you'll give your room more character when you're not busy churning out 'powerful' adjective chains.

Be like Homer. Homer only sees the donut...

When you fall in love with a person, it's not all about how attractive they are. I know you want to create visceral reactions, but tread carefully. Sometimes you're looking for a soulmate. While your environment may not be a character, if you throw a spotlight on it, it better sing a mean back-up vocal or they're drawing attention for all the wrong reasons. One of the quickest ways to lose readers is falling in love with your own voice and forgetting the story.

Demolish It!

Annnnd let's not forget that in your drafting phase, you might be lean or getting way too fluffy with the descriptions. If you're meticulous, there are plenty of opportunities to edit it, break it down, make it the best damn room in the history of best damn rooms. If you have your solid bases for reference, you should be good.

All I can really add here is this-- on a fresh edit, don't look at your reference pictures first. If you realize something you describe doesn't 'fit' somehow, THEN look at your pictures to figure out how to say what you really meant. I say this because of how strong the visuals are towards the initial scene. Once you remember how it's supposed to look, you won't as easily see what ISN'T there that should be. Your visuals will be satisfied so you might miss it over and over again.

Conclusion

Again, because I used 'don't' language, let's be aware that there aren't any rules and there might be a draw towards your purple style. It's a fine balance between how to draw a market and how to write with integrity, true to the story. Write for yourself, but if you want others to read it, there is some consideration needed. Insisting on integrity only often creates an ego, a brick wall of frustration in growth because your way is the only way. It absolves you from the challenge of a different approach. Writing only for a market often means you are missing the opportunity to reach a faithful minority that wants a writer's honesty. This isn't an either-or though. Your greatest challenge, for the bulk of us writing peons, will be finding the voice that best aligns our views of success. I've said it before, but all of the clever marketing, great storytelling and time-consuming labor in the world guarantees nothing. Because of this, many writers decide it's not worth assaulting a beloved hobby with the harsh realities of that step.

And really, it's not worth worrying about. I write these blogs only to hash out techniques that have given me success in writing more. In being satisfied with reading it again. In feeling the pride of improvement. I want to entertain and teach and use these moments to reflect on my writing without pressure. Because working on something that you intend to publish is stressful. It's work, no way around that, but you still have to work from a place of passion. 

Every aspect of your work is part of a design. It's prose, it's logic, it's power, it's entertainment. It's a medium where you're turning the pictures in your head into words and into pictures in someone else's head. You must accept that some things will be lost in translation, but you will still want to create a formula where it can make sense in their head as well. Depending on the depth of your story, sometimes you have to create a backstage area to make what is seen believable or visual. Your audience isn't blind (even the legitimately blind enjoy audiobooks), so you need to use the spotlight. Stage plays-- ever notice how they turn off the lights in the auditorium? It's not just to quiet you down and it's not just aesthetics. They use the light to direct your attention.

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In any case, I'm really enjoying creating some fun posts lately. Sometimes I can run into the insanely technical. Which would be fine if I were just writing manuals, but I also need to give people a taste of the side that actually writes fantasy. My passion here is writing, but it's not a singular thing. Covering all aspects of the journey is one I try to deliver honestly. I want to show that I'm a smart ass. I swear because language of all kinds is not forbidden fruit to me. I wear many different hats (and a lot of them I crocheted myself). It's a slippery slope, but we can't impress everyone. Words that cause you discomfort may be liberating for someone else. This is why free speech is so important. Yes, even hate speech. We can get angry and disgusted, but shy of threats with intent or inciting organized violence, it's just not a crime to have unpopular or gross opinions. Giving the freedom to talk about them is how we prevent them from becoming an ugly action. 

(Like the anti-anything argument: making it illegal doesn't stop it from happening. It just makes it more dangerous for the frustrated and desperate who intend to see it through.)

So speak honestly. Take honesty and refine it with tact. Labor to always find the best way to communicate what you mean to say. Decide for yourself what that means to you.

The don't-iest don't of them all.