The Fiction Author's Journey

Writers, even before they are authors, often hear a lot of similar lines from the people in their life. If not being asked to be a character in their book, then something else; perhaps that they have some ideas that would be great for their story. Sometimes it's a shared misery (or pretended misery more akin to a humble brag), sometimes it's a bit of pleasant nostalgia. If, like me, you're in the latter group, then no matter how many times you hear it, it always warms your heart a little that people want to be involved in your work, even in a passive manner. Sure, some people can be pushy or relentless, but in most cases, they are coming to you with a vulnerability, a trust that you won't reject their interest. So even if someone can get a little defensive or stand-offish, it's mostly coming from a place we can relate to, maybe a place where we've lashed out from before ourselves.

One thing I'm learning to tackle more are personal alignments. While I've said before that I don't make characters that line up very well with myself, I've been more generous in offering up vulnerable instances in the guise of fiction. I might change the relationships of the involved characters or put it in a wholly different environment, but the psychological landscape is an internal conflict that can take place in anyone, resonating with people for the intricacies of those similarities. It's true enough that people who share a diagnosis are still, for all intents and purposes, alone in their suffering. Yet in support groups or forums, people still find comfort that other people can better describe a feeling they are troubled by as long as they can't name it. Because of that, I've learned to use my experiences without making it about me-- I can transfer these details and name them, creating an environment that can be discussed or understood.

Perhaps. I'm also aware that I might be too wordy for some people, which I'm not using to insult anyone's level of intelligence. I don't just fixate on what characters do or even observe. I also let them muse on what they think they are seeing on people's faces. Often, they aren't right so I do rely on the reader not automatically trusting a character's observations sometimes.

Conversations. Hoo boy, that one was not so easy for me. I wouldn't say it has little to do with any social ineptitude on my part. I just started asking myself if people really talked like I was making them talk. Back when Gilmore Girls first came out, that was a huge point of contention, how rapid and instantly witty the characters were yet how emotionally inept they were as the counterbalance. While it was an enjoyable show, too often it felt disingenuous and unrelatable. While I don't expect fictional stories to be overly realistic, it can really take you out of a story too much if a character can't be believable in and of itself. Conversations can't just be witty or enjoyable to be successful, but I do labor to avoid the small talk as much as possible because I loathe it and... I'd rather the reader just assume it happens rather than painstakingly recreating those boring and 'realistic' moments. I take it seriously that a writer has the power to decide what parts of the story are worth being delivered. It can be tough to decide but conversations... if they're there, make them count. Also, I try not to use them to bend the rules of exposition. While it's okay to let a character explain some finer points, I really don't want them describing what might be way more interesting to play out in real time.

As a fiction author, I can become personally fixated on what I believe to be strengths and weaknesses of mine, though neither of them become off-limits to my story. I certainly want to play to my strengths, but at the same time, those weaknesses could stand to be challenged and reformed as well. While I don't care to subject people to bad writing like subjects for my mad experiments, I find it worthwhile to go ahead and write them, then work out if they should stay or go or just get worked on over time. Play to your strengths, play on your weaknesses. While at some point, I have to make an executive decision for the good of the story, there is really no such thing as wasted effort.

Each writer's journey will differ and I can't say being a published, marketing author makes it any easier. No matter what paths you take, remember to include some room for self-discovery. Even in non-fiction, there's room for that, and not just for those memoirs either. I'm playing with the idea of a how-to-draw book that combines the technical with the intuitive, aiming to make it an experience that doesn't allow for the feeling of failure to inhibit you. To write a book that honest and evocative, I do have to delve into what I used to refer to as 'the zone', that place where you turn off the harsh critic and trade it for the helpful one. This is a place that does require conscious introspection into a mental process.

I don't think there is any such thing as a valuable book written by a completely detached writer. While we all need a healthy dose of logic and reason to create successful stories, we also can't completely distance ourselves from the subjects. Instead, there's ideally a place where our work is neither too precious for criticism nor too detached for emotional response.

In any case, keep at your own personal journeys. Back to editing for me, but think on your own strengths and weaknesses sometime. You may want to reevaluate that every so often, really assess what you found to be stronger or weaker in your writing and ask yourself how you can build from that.

An Ode to Editing

Some people dread it. Some embrace it. Initially, I'm on the fence, but fences are places where observations take root, so it's not a bad place to be.

I started editing for UnSung tonight and once more, I looked at the beginning and felt disjointed. I wanted to say too much at once. I was trying to fit all the nouns into one little sentence, one wordy paragraph, one choppy chapter. Yet in this mess, I also centered and found what I really wanted to say. In this case, I took out the character and set about rewording it to paint the scene before the character introduction found a nice natural spot to nestle in. It not only worked, but the dreaded beginning quickly morphed into the story I demanded from it.

If you're the sort of writer that struggles with beginnings, you probably always will. I do and this is far from my first. Either as a reader or a writer, I've seen them all. It doesn't get easier, but I gave up the perfect cram of nouns and started with building on solid ground. Because in the beginning, it's all loose sand sifting through sweaty, anxious hands. What clings is few, what remains isn't enough to make a decent sand castle with. Yet you can make the accumulation interesting, the bits and pieces start to form. You just have to let go of all you think sand is and start working on what you need it to be. I need these words to lead to castles and I need these characters to build them. As the writer and the editor, I am the benevolent pharaoh and these will be pyramids, modern day tombs and underworld palaces.

Sometimes I even forget what my job is. I get drawn in to this false sense of comfort that I am simply the reader. Yet in that tunnel vision, I find those organic flinches that tell me something isn't right, an intuition that goes beyond just the technical edit and helps me polish the pace, the structure, the flow. I also find those sterile places that need my voice, those opportunities for humor or exasperation or introspection.

The hours creep away. I meant to read one chapter and suddenly it's 2 AM and I'm four chapters deep on the edge of my seat. I should know what's happening; I wrote the damn thing, yet there I am-- edge of my seat, wondering when my heart will slam into the ceiling as the roller coaster car plunges down so fast, I'd swear it jumped the track and any moment I'll crash. Yet I soar because I thought I knew what I wrote, but I had no idea I'd hit the right notes quite so well. I am proud, I am amazed, I am spinning even when the ride gasps where it's done.

Or the crash comes and I'm frowning at the tragedy of rushed and messy and sometimes incoherent words. Yup, I wrote that too. Yet rather than throw it aside for another unfortunate session, I'm combing through, sifting out the treasures and reminding myself once more. Too much, too little; don't see the sand, see what you want it to be.

I'm sure you're arriving at where I'm going here-- that however you feel about those dreaded edits, there's some real gold-mining here. I even pity the people who are so confident in their first drafts that they bypass this sadistic (and masochistic) pleasure of the edit. It's partly attitude, partly experience, partly realizing that your writer brain is absolutely not on stand-by but a valuable and liberating part of the process.

So here's my advice: no matter how much you focus on being prolific or rushing to the next idea because you just have so many or whatever excuse you've made for avoiding it, teach yourself the art of editing. When I'm not working on my own projects, hell, I'd be happy to let you pay me to do it even. In the beginning of my journey, I might have tried to get away with doing it as little as possible, but now, I anticipate it. When I'm celebrating a finished draft, I'm rubbing my hands together at the treasure trove ahead of me in the next phase.

In my experience, a great editor, like a great writer, is adaptable to the process. In the case of self-editing, you're holding court with yourself-- often it's the you that initially wrote it and the you that is deciding if that hard work is really the best it can be. You don't trade the passion of drafting for doldrums in editing. I find my new knowledge to be exciting to work with, like an expert that has the power to change canon with a tap of the keyboard. Because I am.

So, if you need the motivation to tackle every perceived weakness, remember you'll be skipping along the highs of your strengths. You'll be the master of a drafted piece and you'll wave a wand over mistakes, be inspired to add (and delete) scenes, really feel the life pulsing through your ideas.

To me, book releases are far more dreadful. It's that stage that always makes it hard to swallow because it's where you're finally letting it go, where the words are stuck exactly where you left them. Yet don't let that stop you either. While some stories will never give you the confidence that they're ready, others will be more insistent. I always give my MSs one final pass where I tie my hands down and ask if this passes as a reader. If so, it's going to be the best damn indication you can get.

Truly, I hope I can win over more writers to the joys of editing. It's certainly not the first dastardly task that has won me over with time. If my stubborn brain can be won, I have hope for the rest of you!

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!

The Climax and Cost of Accomplishments

Once upon a time, I never finished anything I started. It was easily a painful time of my life for more reasons than that, but more so because I was both angry with and willing to concede that I was full of wasted potential while doing jack shit about it. Focus was not something that came easily and new ideas would lure me away from the old. Abandonment was a pattern I couldn't quite escape, even when it was in my hands.

I'm going to ditch the "What Writers Should Blog About" advice and not attempt to make the whole concept a general one we can all get chummy and 'me too' about. I'm going to dance over some of my own history, but I'm going to apply the evidence of changing that attitude.

The first thing I ever completed wasn't high school; it was getting my GED. I did it so I could get into college. However, the arrangement was difficult since I had a lot of things piling up on me--

• I'd quit working as a pizza cook. No financial independence, but I'd started moderating in share hubs and learning how to operate a computer, including hardware installation. I also ate a ridiculous amount of hotdogs. When you're 19 with the metabolism of a hummingbird, that seems like a foolproof diet.
• I hated riding the bus and was even followed off of it a couple times. I can't tell you how many days I pretended I needed to shop at the grocery store at the bus stop, just to make sure I wasn't being followed home.
• My grandmother was lecturing me about money, which is insulting in most cases, but especially so given she was wealthy and I was quite aware of how to pinch a penny. Enabling was frowned upon, unless you were my mother. Someday, I'll memoir all about that double standard, but I'm not bitter enough to care to dwell on that these days.
• I wanted to enjoy being a 'new adult'. I reunited with a friend I fell out with in high school(a sort of soul mate). When the old college try didn't pan out, she actually got me a job at Subway until I worked for Border's and then worked with her again at Target.
• The counselor that signed me up for courses screwed up my major and basically told me I'd have to 'lock in my position' and take classes which wouldn't credit towards my major (and after having my grandma snap at me for finances, I was mortified of bringing that up). Seriously, government needs to crack down on the deceptive practices colleges are allowed to use. Keep in mind, this was University of Cincinnati, a public college, not a private one. And these are supposed to be the 'good guys'. One girl was in limbo for three years waiting for a coveted space to open up in Photography.

A lot of things that just added up to walking away from a shitty liberal-arts-that-should-have-been-fine-arts degree. I did get a single credit in the elective basic drawing class I took, so guess what it takes to get me to the finish line?

*Back then, I didn't realize that my confusion and moods were related to BPD and ASD. lol Back before these were on the radar, my sort were just kind of the clowns, court jesters, off-color, or eccentric sort. It's not really unfiltered or even brutally honest, but social acceptability tends to fall pretty low on the list of why I should probably not share something. Either way, I like the adjectives over the letter crap, but the letters were a good baseline for understanding what dumb shit triggered me. It took a lot of lost jobs and hospital visits before I realized that I have to approach life Mission Impossible style. I kind of have to risk looking dumb to show I know what I'm doing.*

Me, except setting the alarm with my boobs.

Either way, I learned then that 'winning' isn't really a pattern or a streak. That everything that reaches an end is a battle with time, priorities, self-doubt, even isolation. Again, life started piling on against my aspirations. I started college again in my mid twenties, this time online so I could take the pain in the ass of transportation out and just focus on the work. A few months into it, I had a breakdown (again, memoir-- this one had to do with more toxicity and abuse). Just woke up in the middle of the night thinking I was having an heart attack because it felt purely physical. Even though my BP was in stage 2 hypertension, the culprit was a panic attack. On medication, I just got sicker, which led to another ER visit. I admitted to a nurse I was fantasizing about how I wanted to kill myself. Sure, that wasn't exactly new, but it was the first time I ever told an adult as an adult myself.

I don't know; goodbye, cruel world?

What tipped her off is that I was very matter of fact about it. I was numb to everything, just going through the motions. I signed myself in to psych, spent a week looking for where I left myself. Disassociation is a weird bitch. You're sharply aware in a way, but you kind of feel like you're a placeholder for yourself, holding your seat until you get back. I ate well, drank a lot of juice and watched people. Nosy as fuck, I'll admit, but I wanted to know what put us there and since *I* was a placeholder, things like reputation and self-consciousness were out to lunch too. Essentially, I was more like my childhood self, the me before trauma started its uneven layers, surrounded by more child-adults. Were we weak? Broken? Did we get a scarlet letter now? But no, they were mostly just people pushed too hard on one side of life and couldn't avoid a face plant. Most of us were kind of in a state of shock when we first got there, like when blood is gushing out of your nose and your first instinct is to try to put it back in. I wouldn't say the bullshit little groups we had to go to were actually valuable, but I think ultimately, they knew that too. It didn't really matter if we participated. We were herded around so we could relearn the basics of function. Really, they could have talked about how to make grilled cheese with Elmer's glue, but instead they told us how to breathe and scribbled on a whiteboard. I also remembered I was still a college student, but we'll get to that.

My new friends for the week. Some I'll never forget. I like three-story-verbatim guy and his rivalry with the sniveling angry guy who kept asking if he could call home to ask his wife if she let the dog out. They both wore their shorts and socks too high and I'm convinced this is why they were rivals. Three-Story kept going on about baseball (he was a friendly dude, just a broken record on a nostalgic loop) and the other guy was flipping his shit because he couldn't take the repetition. When my dad and brother came to visit, I whispered to my dad 'shhh, watch this' and repeated the next two sentences of the guy's story when he said them. I'll never forget my dad's face because there are few times my quirkiness can genuinely surprise him. I think it was mostly relief that I'd gotten my weird sense of humor back.

What happens after you lose your shit is often this laser focus on the order of things. I started to say this when I brought up the groups, but it's pretty important to how all people 'work'. It's never more true than after a breakdown. In fact, the morbid aftermath isn't just embarrassment or disorientation, but an underlying sense of relief that the simple things are still there after the chaos blew everything else to shit. I was in reboot with a bunch of people reorganizing their life code. When I ate, it wasn't about enjoyment (even though the food was good)-- I took a bite of everything in a clockwise direction one time. Another time, I worked on eating all of something before eating anything else. It wasn't even because of the limited stimulus or boredom or burn-out; it was more akin to reprogramming ourselves with conscious attention to ritual. There was no indoctrination here. We still had to go it alone, but we didn't have to explain it to our audience-- there was a cathartic understanding that we were all on training wheels. For me, every day was on autopilot until I was able to update. It took a lot of fruit juice and some pretty amazing nurses too, but I graduated from placeholder to person again.

When I found part of myself (again: group activity-- what were you most proud of?), I immediately panicked. I had a big project due in a 3D modeling class and if I failed, I'd have to retake it. They let my dad bring my laptop and watched me in an observation room while I scrambled to turn in a passable final project. I got a B.

Appropriate share time! A room modeled from a source picture. I was in my 20th week of school and finishing my model creation class. Side note: the rest of my models from that class are in my FaceBook photos, so add me and check them out!

I wasn't yet hip to the scam that private schools are, but I don't think you could have stopped me from doing it anyway. My credit was already shot to hell and I didn't think school was even possible. So when I got in and got through a mental breakdown but kept my head above water, I think my intent to fight was just stronger than my vulnerabilities at the time. They sprung on me that I needed to pay several thousand to make up for what financial aid didn't cover. When I got into this school, I made it clear that I had no income so I was devastated. I didn't want to give up! It was one of the few things that made me want to stay alive at the time. Instead of dissolving, I started looking at transferring to a more affordable school. I couldn't find another animation program, but I switched to graphic design. It wasn't exactly a downgrade either since the idea of getting better at digital painting was appealing too (and turned out to be what pushed me into learning how to publish my work).

I worked my ass off and nabbed my associate's degree, but financial aid was dancing on some more deceptive crap. In order to get my AS (which I achieved cum laude honors on), they wanted more money I didn't have. I applied for grants and decided to continue for a bachelor's and this covered it (somehow-- I think that legally they're just allowed to lie to some extent to extort you). Financial aid kept shitting on my doorstep throughout. The stress of busting out my best work was hard enough, but add to that the dreaded phone calls every few months that needed me to maneuver through loopholes to plug their loopholes. I had taken on a part time job even though service jobs never worked out well for me. It still wasn't enough when FA decided to bend me over again shy of that second degree. I wrote an essay writing contest and secured a grant that let me walk away with two degrees (and $60K in debt).

Another personal victory was achieved. Petco was the longest job I've ever had, at 20 months. And I didn't get fired for acting out/insubordination. For the first time, I handed in a formal two weeks notice and got to leave with dignity.

After college, I still wasn't 100 percent what I wanted to do. I had a lot of teachers that asked to use my projects in future classes, graduated with honors-- I knew I was damn good at what I do. It felt... Beyond gratifying to be more than just a job monkey for once in my life. A writing teacher told me I'm organic, deep, funny and faithful to my ideas. I'd already begun reviving the longest story I'd written to date-- sixty pages-- after I found it while rummaging for old word docs prior to rewriting a fairy tale for that class. That book became The Truth about Heroes: One of Many. It became seven books by the time my mom died.

I've already talked about the impact of death over the course of writing those books. I was able to bend my mind around finishing the series at nine books. I'm currently working on my 11th book. If you've been reading my blog, you know how much my mom was a part of the process, so I won't go into that again. I grieve best when I don't let it paralyze me, so stopping was never an option.

Huh, what? You mean these books? How ever did they get on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and digital retailers all over the world? Could it be... sheer stubbornness?

There isn't a turning point to nail down here. Over time, I even stopped imagining what things would look like when done because I stopped believing they would be. I don't regret going to school and it wouldn't have mattered if it were Yale or some rusty shack out of Deliverance-- my instructors and my knowledge are irreplaceable. It taught me how to trick myself out of a pattern of walking away. Because I was so fixated on 'the end' being years away, I was amassing a body of work after each class, finished work, and before I could self-sabotage, it was too late. I couldn't pretend I was destined to flounder because I'd found the mental shortcut, a way to finish by always putting the end out of reach.

The downside here is that my victories are something almost transient, more like an orgasm than a trophy or a tiara I can wear everywhere. In a way, I became a sort of Daenerys, Collector of a Million Titles, a character more about adapting and determination than pride. What I did is something I still fail to connect to at times because it's also a mind-altering drug. I'm addicted to seeing big projects through so the victories pass when the next idea twinkles ahead. I finished things, but what else am I capable of? Again, mobility towards my goals was possible because I always keep a big fat carrot on the end of the stick, but it almost means I am TOO far-sighted creatively. For now, it's enough that I am actively working towards goals, but it does need some work.

I'd be lying if I didn't say the obstacles are there. There are a lot of people that assume what I'm capable of as a woman or a white person (we're unfashionable in identity politics and trends these days) or presume to tell me what I could or should write about. There are people who don't realize that my drawing style is intentional and not because I can't keep up with the trends in realism, that I love exploring ways to incorporate realism into my style, but am still a comic book artist and fucking proud of it. And yes, people swear by one discipline in their career but what makes my talent so healthy now is that I know how to feed it.

Drawing, nom, writing, nom nom, comics, nom nom nom. Notice the one cookie dangling juuuuust out of nom.

The cost of accomplishment is exposure, which creatives are wary of in its many forms. People will either swear you can't do better or can't do worse (AKA you suck). You're naked to this, but once I've broken through my prison, my hell, my tormentors, there's this thick extra layer, air tight and a perfect fit, this layer that de-weaponizes words, silences trolls, tunes me into my purpose. I can take in what I need to realize my vision, to share it, but it doesn't really matter how precious people think their tastes are. It doesn't get to decide if we're worthy of seeing it through.

Get around to reading my work sometime, if you haven't already. I'm learning to be a bit less humble about it. It's a very different creature from my blogs-- I have a lot of fun with fantasy that is worth a try. While I have to admit, it's a dream of mine to write for a video game company some day, I'll stress again that I use THIS medium to ITS benefit-- my books are books, not just the basis of a show, movie or game. They'd have to be reworked into those mediums because I optimized them as books, first and foremost. I know my way around a story. And yes, swearing and sex happens in my adult books, but just like their appearance in my blogs, they're not accidentally there. Them being there at all seems to be 'gratuitous' without exception to some people. On the upside, they're... not really that long. Maybe someday I'll do a page/paragraph count just for the hell of it.

There's a market for me. And one of these days, I'll look for it. I keep saying that, but someday I'll mean it more than the other times.

You know... now, when I think of that stupid interview question 'where will I be five years from now', I can feel a secret smile twitch at my cheeks. Just me, you, and my ceiling... chasing dreams.

Kids Never See Me as Unemployed

Once more, I have to give props to kids for their perspectives about life. Yes, there are places where their inexperience or optimism or even open-mindedness may seem naive, but it also helps you shed some of those crusty edges-- the misery we mask as practical or responsible, the way we judge ourselves so harshly.

I've said before-- I hate the humble brag. Yet the other day, I was caught doing it. When asked what my job is I reverted back to saying that my last employer was Petco, but now I'm an artist (and author, duh, but it was my friend Erika that chimed in on that for me). It wasn't a conscious attempt to humble brag but, damn it, that's exactly what it sounded like and one that downplayed a DREAM. Not just a job, not even a reliable career, but a dream that I'm actively pursuing. And yes- it's still in its infancy, still feels surreal. Hell, when someone remembers that I have fibromyalgia (among other things), I almost forget that sometimes myself. Not because I'm not in pain, but because I'm used to defending myself as being 'fine' and my threshold for pain is something I've just grown so used to, it's not something I give any thought to. It just is. Like how kids can put zero thought into the transition between running and jumping on a bicycle and pedaling.

I can't say for certain why I felt so apologetic instead of proud. I work 8-14 hour days on my work. I was actually embarrassed that I had responded with so little enthusiasm-- at least until my friend's son Billy (wait, I think we call him Will now, but I am bad enough with learning one variation so that might take a few tries) was genuinely impressed. I don't mean just with a 'wow' but that instant lift of eyebrows and sudden lean towards you that isn't faked interest. No 'why don't you have a REAL job' or 'yeah, but what ELSE do you do?'

Perhaps a lot of adults forget their dreams or give up on them. Some actually resent people who take different risks and prioritize different sacrifices. Something about society made them believe that anything you wanted prior to age 30 was childish and impossible. Kids (and my very wonderful friends and family) just know me. Long-time friends and family know what I went through to gain that courage, what sacrifices I make to balance my priorities, and so on. Kids, well, they don't know the grittiest parts but they are still capable of understanding something that adults gloss over. 

For kids, dreams are stars, way up high, and know that up through the unknown is scary, unpredictable, but thrilling. For a great deal of adults, dreams are still stars. The nearest one is the Sun, the others impossibly far, and you'd burn up before you ever got there. So maybe a dream does start out as impractical. That we start to learn our expectations are unlikely, unrealistic, and many decide it's not worth it. My dream may have had its infancy, but when I collided with disappointment, doubt, and fear, I readjusted my attitude.

And I get this much; much of the responsibilities we chose to take on, thinking it was just what adults do (kids, marriage, jobs) gave us new priorities. I spent a good 15 years in short-lived jobs, battling my health issues, never understanding why adulting just wasn't panning out. My life, like so many others, wasn't according to plan. I never made enough money to have my own place, never kept a job long enough to do so, jumped in and out of hospitals, lost so many people. I didn't want marriage or kids, but I took on raising my nephews without a second thought. After gaining my second degree in graphic design, I wanted to find a job as a graphic designer, but I never learned how to drive and zero offers were reachable by public transit. Plus, my hours had to fit into when the kids were in school. I couldn't physically work as a cashier anymore. I tried sell handcrafts but I got tired of people undervaluing my work.

Writing started to fill those anxious hours where nothing seemed to fit right. And kids, kids are always the ones that can be completely ignorant of that last paragraph and simply think it's exciting that I didn't just write-- I drew, I formatted, I published. Tons of people write but, as I've said before, everyone 'has ideas' or 'is writing a book'. Some people even publish then get discouraged when they aren't a smash hit and it ends there. Kids see the results and marvel at them. Even without experience to make them jaded, they know it's no small feat. They don't need time or trials to understand insecurity and not finishing what you start. 

You can grumble about kids these days all you want. There have always been hormonal, entitled, reckless, unstable kids, but more often than not, I see kids who make me hopeful for the future. Many of them do more than access social media to bully or gossip-- they're smart and aware and struggling with a world very different from ours at their age. My parents was before the technological boom, mine was on the cusp, these kids are in the thick of this explosion of information and chaos. None of us really get each other and I'm tired of the pissing contest on who had it worse; you really can't compare the sum of anyone's experiences that simply. Still, I see people giving up on these kids before they've even gotten started. They certainly don't whine or procrastinate any more than adults and beneath the teenage bravado, they're scared of what the future might hold too. Youthful arrogance that they can do better might be overblown, but it's like revving your engine before a race-- showy but it puts you in the mindset for the race and preps the vehicle.

I'm rather fond of kids that don't let a jaded world limit their perspective. Whether we completely 'get' each other or not is of no consequence. For someone to be able to assess the value of your contribution without asking you to justify it is the most wonderful, reaffirming experience. So I'll work at it. Someday, I won't revert to the stupid impulse to apologize for working hard to chase a dream. I may need a few brilliant reminders from the most amazing people I know. They don't always know how amazing they are, but that's what I'm here for.

We raise this village. Not one busted cog in the bunch.

Read Me

Old enough to remember when we used to write that on neatly folded notes in class, as if we'd actually mistake it for a gum wrapper or some other inconsequential piece of garbage? I'm not going to tell you it was the 'good old days' because I don't miss high school, but I will say that my best friend and I used to get a little MORE old-school and draw a carrier pigeon on the outside too.

But no, nostalgia isn't where this is headed.

How can we as authors get readers to take a chance on us? Do we lure them with humorous carrier pigeons or abbreviate our names because gendered names are too damning?

For authors, there are a myriad of frustrations that can be disillusioning when it comes to pitching our books. Things I've heard said (and in some cases, I've said personally):

1. What should include in my bio?

2. If I write about _____, will people read it?

3. How can I convince people I'm serious?

4. Does my gender/genre/voice matter?

5. If my story isn't 'good', does it invalidate me?

Personally, I'm neither of the party that sterilizes my stories into trendy bestsellers nor the party that writes only for passion. Like most things, I aim for balance. Am I a talented writer? I don't know. I've heard people remark that I am but in some ways, feedback is about as frequent as Jehovah's Witnesses and Mormons coming to my door (but feedback is actually welcome). I think some people fear I'll either be too wordy and intellectual or too 'girlie'. And ffs, what would be wrong with either in regular doses? It's disheartening that women can feel comfortable reading books in a male voice but there is also an entire subset of men and uncomfortable women who peg all females in the same wishy-washy light, like we're all pumping out vapid romances and words are hard. I've beat that horse before and won't flip it and cook the other side now.

I suppose you could call the sexual scenes that crop up in my books 'smut' but do you know what that means for an asexual to explore that? It is rarely just about the sex. I'm calculating the actions of my characters on a level that complements their roles in the story. Yes, it is detailed and even a bit gratuitous but what's the point of drawing you into the heads of my characters if I kick you out at their most vulnerable?

Ohhhh, I see it now. Again, it sounds too complex. Here's the thing-- as a writer, I do see it as my duty to simplify the complex. I don't have a strict set of rules. I'm not going to talk down to you, but I'm not going to assume you know all of the unique rules of my fantasy world. And I'm not one of those people who will spew out endless lengths of fantasy names. I tend to use unique names but not ones too complicated to follow. There are three main continents in my first series-- Vieres, Stoneweld, and Wheryf. There are a lot of characters for you to meet but they are written in compact pieces, more a collection of short stories. I sometimes jump to different points in their lives to justify an action in their present.

I realize my work won't be everyone's cup of tea, but it can be tough for me to sum it up when people want to know what 'my book' is about. It's never been 'a book' and people seem to forget that my memory is very spotty (irony). I can discuss the decisions I made if you read it but trying to sum it up or package it is a lost cause.

Let's be honest-- even among writers, there are many who see self-publishers as people too chicken shit to query and wait in line to be accepted or too greedy to hire 'professionals' to make a quality product. In case they missed the memo, I AM a professional. Not only a writer and an artist but across multiple media. I was a comic book artist first, spending countless hours combining story-telling and art. Artists are often polymaths. It waters down nothing.

Ah, I wish I could remember her name but one girl in a group I'm in wanted to learn how to get better at cover design. A frustrating number of 'Hire a pro' comments flooded the post. I'm not sure when disposable income became a thing, nor being so eager to dismiss people from learning new skills but her reaction was priceless. Something to the tune of: so because I'm a writer, I can have the confidence to write but have to outsource my vision of the cover? So if the shoe is on the other foot and I've made a beautiful picture, I should hire a writer because I can't be trusted to write the story I see with it?

Some artists are lucky enough to dodge this hypocrisy. If they manage to have an acceptable level of talent, humility and are safe/non-threatening enough anyway... There are a lot of insecurities in large writing communities and sometimes having a 'fall-back' plan is met with the accusation that you aren't serious enough to have a single discipline. I once remarked that I would love to have a Master's degree so I could fall back on teaching when I couldn't meet the demands of a full time artist and, despite the fact that I'm actually a passionate person that would make a great teacher, all my detractor could focus on was that teaching was not a fall-back plan and should be a first choice. I can't agree with that. Many people find their passions AFTER they follow the curiosity to try it. In fact, it's often the over-zealous that dive headfirst with enthusiasm and realize they're not cut out for it. None of us are under any obligation to stick with something we are not measuring up to. Why not try to be a teacher, a guru, a muse? My muse is certainly a temp sometimes and one that whines about vacations while beating me into submission.

Here's the thing. I can't convince you of anything, no matter what I tell you. Many of you have your own ideas of what I am and what I write and if I deserve a reward for my hard work or whether my misery is important for your 'I told you so' philosophy. Most of the people who reach out to me love what I do, love my sense of humor, think I'm sweet, etc.  It's certainly a matter of quality rather than quantity.  To answer the five questions above, I don't know what to put in my bio, I write fantasy that speaks to my psyche, I can't possibly prove I'm more serious, being a woman writing fantasy in a woman's voice is not going to enlighten you to my abilities, and no one can invalidate me if I didn't seek their approval to begin with.

You aren't wrong that any artist wants their work to be looked at and even loved, but the world can't come crashing down if it isn't. It's not as simple as being a livelihood and mostly it's not even a choice. I can't tell you how many days I woke up and begged my brain to give my hands and eyes a break but ended up working exhausted anyway. Creativity can be downright parasitic and just as deadly if we try to detach from it. There's a reason the suicidal artist is an eye-rolling generalization. It is so built into some of us that trying to suppress it makes us horrible to be around.

You may have also noticed that artists often have to bleed on the paper. It's in these vulnerable moments where people want to latch on. Bestsellers can be safe but if you want a story to stick, it has to get its claws in you and leave a trace in your blood.

The younger writers want you to fall in love with their characters. I have almost never even cared a little. I can't tell you how many times these characters are so generically laden with flaws and strengths designed to be likable or repellent. Real characters, raw characters, are not like that. I fall in love with the weathered characters, the ones that never wanted to be heroes or villains. Take out 'heroes and villains'. How about liberals and conservatives? Artists and coal miners? Introverts and extroverts? Where's the right or wrong in the opposites? Because of that, I don't beg you to like my characters. If I'm doing it right, they're your annoying best friend or your rival you secretly admire. I write stories that you let you feel any damn way you want and possibly ask yourself if that's how you really feel and none of that hurts the story. Did you sympathize with the sadistic psychopath? Does that makes you feel like a monster or merciful? Will you keep reading to learn more about yourself?

How's that for a pitch?

How to Be an Awesome (Professional) Reviewer

Up to this point, I have usually focused my blogs on personal anecdotes, updates and tips for writers. However, writers are also readers, sometimes even exchanging stories with other writers; a beta reading swap, for any who are unfamiliar. You may also be picked as an ARC reader (Advance Review/Reading Copy). Now, ARCs were traditionally sent out prior to a release, but these copies are also used by self-pubbers to pass out to reviewers-- a free copy and crossing your fingers that they won't just run off, basically. The reason a lot of self-pubbers do this is because they don't have the money to shell out for copyright protection and there is automatic protection once published. Some don't shell out for professional editors or cover designers so they use other resources to try to get their work up to speed and noticed.

I won't go into the ongoing controversy that led to the inspiration for this post (I've brought it up in prior posts-- the tendency for bisexual women to be attacked for writing male/male romance), only that a fellow writer and published author, Sarah Beth James, ran into a legitimate concern with an ARC reader and it brought up some great points.

Writers are certainly not excluded from being diplomatic. When we seek out ARC/beta readers or reviewers, editors or cover designers, we certainly must observe simple rules of professionalism. We cannot demand performance, whether we pay or not. Before you go up in arms (but I paid to get these results!) understand that you do have a duty to research prior to this. You can't tie up a designer's time, scrapping all of their ideas just because their style doesn't match your vision. You have to look at the work or recommendations from former customers to see what you're getting into. There are reasonable expectations of professionalism on both sides.

I would be happy to go into the relationship for other writer/professional relationships, but for today. We're aiming at reviewers.

So how can you be an awesome reviewer?

1) You are a professional.

I don't care if you're a housewife from Vermont, you are a professional. If you are in any way an influencer or prolific reviewer, you are a professional. Don't use the excuse that you only do it on your free time or your spouse is the breadwinner. Even published writers have the tendency to downgrade their importance-- 'I'm just a writer, not a best seller.' I will not fault anyone for humility, but I don't ever want to hear it as a defense when you're challenged to explain quality. If you put yourself out there as a reviewer, you are expected to be professional. If not, you may get blacklisted by writers who see your work as damaging and unprofessional and the requests will stop coming in.

2) Don't make it about you.

When someone asks you to review their work, be careful that you aren't using their platform to self-promote. Don't go on and on about how you are the expert in a genre. In the reading/writing world, that's called gatekeeping. In fiction, you should understand that facts are often skewed to explore new ideas. Writers often delve into unexplored areas and are not making an attempt to tackle real-world issues. Fiction is largely the territory of escapism. You may very well find hidden agendas but I can assure you that there are just as many unconscious biases or intentional straying that is done as well. When in doubt, ask the writer. That being said, nonfiction writers ARE expecting to be challenged on their facts or opinions. Feel free to do so, but take it outside of a review. Give them the opportunity to elaborate and you may improve future editions.

Absolutely do NOT inject your political, social or religious agendas or virtue-signal that you are the righteous and the author is wrong. It is a guaranteed way to get yourself blacklisted. Authors talk to each other, share screenshots, provide proof and discuss. We generally know to avoid engaging with reviewers on review sites (at least publicly), but it doesn't mean we don't warn each other away from unprofessional betas/ARCs. You are also entitled to screenshot author harassment if you feel they are not being professional. Usually, it's better to move on, but there are exceptions, especially with multi-platform offenders.

Feel free to brag about your ARC experiences on your blog or website. That is certainly your platform and a good place to elaborate.

3) Offer a clear distinction between taste and technicality

I have mentioned before that my friend Joe Maley is extremely adept at this in his movie reviews. Not only is he able to tell you what he liked and didn't like, but he can compare it to other work and even recommend similar movies if you did like it and he didn't. What makes him so successful is the language he uses. Facts are often worded appropriately-- 'this is a movie about this and this.' Opinions are not disguised as fact 'I liked this character because...' It sounds simple but deceptively so because novices will often slip into unhelpful language, going so far as to assuming no one will like something because of their strong aversion to it, or even that it shouldn't exist at all. Those opinions are important but your feelings are not central to the intended audience and you must be aware of that. Once you've stated your tastes, remember to go back to reviewing the quality of the story, making it clear what audience it might appeal to. Even if you have to struggle with that part, it will make you a more intuitive reviewer if you offer that information.

4) Size matters

... and bigger is not always better. Yup, I said it. A well-thought out review shouldn't be a five paragraph essay and too much information may be tantamount to spoiling the content. Instead, start with a synopsis that states the facts. Help the audience find it-- genre, a couple of the main characters, the main plot and the tone/mood (dark, happy, etc). Follow it up with your strongest impressions, good and bad (I'm going into this more on the next point). Again, steer clear of spoilers like "I didn't like when the main villain turned out to be an ally." The same goes for trigger warnings. Take care that you aren't vague enough to create a bias or detailed enough to spoil. When in doubt, leave it out. As an ARC reader, you are invited to connect with the writer on these concerns before posting your review. Use the privilege.

5) Bullet point pros and cons

Formatting can be tricky on review sites so, as a reviewer, take the time to see what options are available to maximize the presentation. Gain basic knowledge of HTML, to start. Most form boxes on review sites use some variation of HTML. If at all possible, use the bullet point format to clean up your pros/cons section. If you don't already, you may want to develop an order or system. Your first point in pros and cons is for the characters, the second point is for the style, etc. There's no right format here, but this is a good way to offer a fair assessment on taste and technicality. 'This character was too whiny for me, but not for lack of being well-written' or 'I might have liked this character if the author had used them more like this.' Again, steer clear of spoilers.

6) Don't include remarks on errors

This goes double if you're reviewing an indie author. This isn't because you should let lower standards slide. Most indie authors want to be held to the same (or better) standards than traditional publishing. (Better, because you can't tell me Twilight, 50 Shades of Grey, or anything by Dan Brown was professionally edited.) The point here is that self-pubbers have full control at all times and they can correct grammatical or continuity errors any time they damn well please. Again, if you have the privilege to correspond with them privately, do it. As an ARC reader, you may not have time to point out every error or how you would fix it. Whether you can or will or not, you can be as vague as 'if you fix the grammatical errors in these stories/chapters, it would improve the star rating by one star.' That might sound like an ultimatum by itself, so maybe add that you can withhold the review as a courtesy until contacted about the change. A professional writer will not pitch a fit.

I'll give the reviewers this much-- some authors will not take criticism or pushback at all, but if you considered your position carefully and observed diplomacy, you don't lose points as an awesome reviewer. Being an awesome reviewer does not mean that you are passing out 4 and 5 star reviews. While that certainly helps, ARC reading is a good opportunity for both author and reviewer to educate the other and build a rapport. Become a valuable ARC and it may put you first on their list for secret promotions, future copies and other perks.

7) Your copy is for your use only

I've seen that there are people who believe that since they volunteered their precious time towards the task, they are entitled to give away or even sell hard copies to whoever they want. No. Just no. Not only is an ARC not the same as the final version in many cases, you are violating the confidence of the role and profiting from that. But it's the same as selling it to a used book store or giving it as a gift! Then why won't bookstores accept ARCs? Go ahead and try. And yes, internet piracy happens, but it's also highly frowned upon, especially for new authors. Being trusted with a free copy IS the reward, whether you like it or not. You can't eat free ice cream then return to the counter and say you didn't like it and you wanted a different flavor instead. You consumed and now you either delete it or destroy the copy. An ARC is a step above the average reader, given access to the author as well as the privilege. I don't say this from a position of entitlement; I don't feel as if an author's work, my own included, is above reproach. However, it is certainly my work and there are proper channels and expectations. As a side note, I have seen several groups on FB closed for violation of ARC use. If you are profiting on a large scale, you can incur much heavier legal penalties.

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I have to reiterate at this point that these ARE NOT RULES. You can be as blunt as you like, but you are going to lose opportunities to connect if you eschew diplomacy in order to sound 'real.' Don't know if you've noticed, but people are getting sick of 'real.' Value your opinions enough to communicate them well. Anyone can lay down a rant, so take the time to be the rebel that maximizes the efficacy of communication. You don't have to use big words (I know I tend to do that, but I have certain feelings about dumbing down, just as surely as thesaurus-hugging), just use plain language that shows a consideration for what you actually read. You may use your own voice, but how you do it will separate you from being a respected reviewer or a blow-hard.

Keep these things in mind and it will certainly benefit everyone's experience. Yes, you and the author are important cogs in the wheel, but the audience, the zeitgeist is tricky enough without interference. Be honest, be involved, but above all, be professional. You ARE a professional, even if it's your first ARC. Every résumé starts somewhere. 

For the writers in the audience, keep it up and take precautions. Above all, enjoy your work. I hope readers and writers (and those who are both) build valuable relationships. As always, I'm here to help!