When It Rains, It Pours

Recently it seems that no matter what direction I am working to make strides in all I am really doing is taking away from somewhere else. I need to work as much as possible in order to stay on top of my bills. I have been getting more hours which is exactly what I need but somehow the bills just keep piling up. I feel like I am making headway with some and then a new one will appear putting me right back in the same position I was before.

I am even debating taking on another job. Freelance writing, work from home bookkeeping, even going back to deal at a second casino again are all possibilities I need to consider. However pushing my body that hard, especially the two casinos thing, has always led to major medical episodes which would in turn mean less hours and more bills. It is a n unfortunate catch 22. All of this creates a huge source of stress in my day.

I have three main ways I deal with stress, two are healthy while one simply exacerbates the issue. The  unhealthy way is that I am an emotional eater. Whether I am happy, sad, frustrated, celebrating, depressed or handling any other emotion my go to way to deal with it is to eat. Of course emotional eating is never a salad or grilled chicken breast, no emotional eating is sitting down with a carton of ice cream and a spoon then eating until you physically can't anymore or there is nothing left in the container. Sadly that is something I have done many times. I am working to do the other two instead.

The first health way I have of handling stress is to exercise. When I feel the anxiety building up I go swim laps, run on the gym track or take a class. I also try to motivate myself into taking classes in the mornings before work just to keep me moving forward. The second coping strategy is writing. Here again I find a conundrum.

I love taking a solid day at the coffee shop to write. I can get five or six thousand words written in a project that is flowing well. I can even get home in time to get a few chores done and make dinner. I am only able to do that during the week though because I spend time with my boyfriend when we are both off on the weekends. With the extra days I am working all being weekdays it makes it more difficult to get the writing done. I can get stalled and not accomplish anything for a week so I lose my momentum.

Now on top of everything else I am going crazy because my sweet kitty is very sick. I have four cats (yes I know it's a lot and I call them my crazy cat lady starter kit) and they are all seniors. The youngest is ten years old. She is the one I am closest too and the one that is struggling. Vets don't generally offer much beyond maintenance for senior cats and make every suggestion with the phrase "it all depends on how much you want to put her through". I am not prepared to be that much of an adult yet. I cannot make a decision that would take away my beautiful girl.

Bills are showing up from her treatments. I find myself worrying so much I don't sleep. When I can't sleep I can't wake up to go work out and I have to work so I cannot lose myself in my fictional world. I spend my one day off catching up on bills and cleaning so I can try to enjoy the weekend even though I have no money to do anything and all I want is just a way to get on top of things for awhile. Sometimes no matter how hard you push, there are elements at work you cannot overcome. Right now the rain and hail have found me but I will just keep fighting until the sunny days and time to write are back. Until then I would appreciate the use of an umbrella.

Why Not Write Something Happier?

In January I presented the first ten pages of two different books at a conference. I knew neither was completely ready but I wanted to get the feedback and face my extreme fear of speaking with agents face to face. One of the books was Sharing Strength, my book on PTSD. Obviously with the subject matter it is not a light and breezy book. There are intense moments, sad ones and some happy ones as well. Most of all there are times of healing. It is a book about recovery first and foremost.

Each character plays their role. Some have the support they need, others are praying for help. Some seem hopelessly doomed and others hide from those wishing to assist. I have known people in every aspect of what the characters are experiencing and the book is very personal for me. It is so personal, in fact, that when the books was still being written I took a sidestep to Survivor and shared a part of my past I buried for nearly half my life.

I am currently working on another book like Survivor called Fish. It is the story of another character in Sharing Strength and her story is just as tragic. It is understandable that any story that leads to a book about PTSD isn't going to be the happiest thing ever written but some of these revelations are especially emotional. When I was discussing this fact at a networking dinner one of the other writers looked me in the eye and asked, "Why don;t you just write something happier?"

He had attended the conference before and even won an Editor's Choice award the last day I was there. He writes everyday and felt the need to constantly tell me how I should be working, what I should be writing and how to move forward correctly. I temperamental, teenage type mind wanted to lash out and tell him to shut up. I don't write everyday, I can admit that. I make excuses and watch television instead of reading or writing. I go to the gym or camp for the weekend when I have time off. There are several things I do instead of writing. I am also not ashamed of this.

Everyone has their own process. I would love to get to the point where I am writing everyday, or at least five days a week as though it were a traditional job. Family will always be an important and I will always have things that get in the way of writing. Sometimes it is simply the emotions I am having to deal with because I don't write happier things. No matter what I will push forward and hopefully someday I will have more time to dedicate. Until then I am happy writing things that aren't and will continue to improve my personal process instead of feeling bad about my topics and the fact I don't work the way others think I should.

First Day

Today is the Summer Solstice, aka first day of summer. I live in the burning dry heat sauna that is Las Vegas so we have been experiencing the weather of summer for weeks already but I am looking at the first day as more symbolic. I have been struggling with stress and depression for the past week and a half or so. Between medical problems, missing my dad as I near the ten year mark since he passed away, and of course writing realizations, I have been moping. I hate that I get to that point but it just hasn't been something I could power through.

This morning I woke up after having dreamt about my dad. I am still sad but spending that time with him, even just in my mind, brought a tiny semblance of peace. The medical concerns I am working to overcome and have a plan now to move forward. As for writing, I cannot change the past so being angry with myself about things I failed to do is not going to help. Instead I need to just look  to the future and try not to let those same issues come up again.

I am writing two books simultaneously, Fish, and Last Piece. They are completely different genres but both are flowing well. I also have about half a dozen other books that have already been written and just need to be edited and rewritten. It is a battle even I can barely understand to edit and rewrite once I finish the first draft of a book. I am going to finish Last Piece, and Fish, before I move on to editing but I am determined to get at least half of the previously completed drafts ready for cover and editing before the end of the year.

I have been struggling because I felt stagnant. As it turns out, I was feeling that way because I wasn't taking any of my books and doing anything with them. The process of editing, rewriting, editing again, designing a cover, formatting, publishing (or sending queries and submitting) then of course marketing the book can be extremely overwhelming. The alternative for a writer is to just draft and never get the satisfaction of sharing your work. The feeling of seeing both of my books go live on Amazon, then the moment of holding the paperback copies in my hands have been some of the most exciting in my life. I always call my manager (my mom) and share those moments with her.

I am taking this symbolic first day and the first day of a season I will accomplish my writing to do list and get back to that feeling of being a happy writer moving forward. I will finish both Fish, and Last Piece, then I will edit and start the next phases of at least three of my other projects while getting ready for Nanowrimo. I am excited to feel productive again.

Opening Scenes

The wonderful K.M. Weiland posted recently that one way to know you're a writer is how much you obsess over your opening to your book. It is also something I talked to my mom about recently. I love writing but I feel as though I always want to start around chapter five. I struggle to hook the reader and draw them in then create the foundation for that big event that ignites the rest of the story. It is always that moment I can't wait to get to as I am writing because then it feels to me like the adventure truly begins.

When I read or write murder mysteries the death happens almost immediately but for some of my other dramas there are a few chapters that come in to set the tone, introduce the characters and their relationship before any inciting incident comes into play. For those books it is important but difficult for me to draw the readers in, make them care, then bring them on the journey of those characters as the real story begins.

When I sent the first ten pages of two of my stories to agents / editors at the conference earlier this year I was excited to get their feedback. I was curious about my ability to make them want to know more based on just those first few pages. Both people I sent them to asked me for more information but only one in a good way. The editor I sent Voices In My Head to suggested getting rid of the majority of the first ten pages. He gave me some ideas for improving the parts that were left but just as my mind wants to do, he suggested I start further into the story.

The second agent liked the story beginning. Her suggestion was more on point of view for the characters because there are so many main characters in the story. Just like there are a number of characters, there are just as many reasons that all the characters have ended up being who and what they are. I completed the first full draft and am now writing novellas for each of the characters to give the more in depth backgrounds.

I write my stories then go back and rewrite the beginning at least five times before I give up and call it good enough. The end is always on my mind. The characters talk to me constantly but there is something that holds me back when it comes to that opening scene. I am working to get better but, along with dialogue, it continues to be one of the biggest battles I have in my writing.

Living In My Mind

I saw a post earlier today talking about how the writer has found trouble being present for life when not writing. The constant thoughts, the perpetual wondering about plot lines, and the endless stream of distractions all originating from within make it hard to be there for conversations, focus on work, or even just enjoy time with friends and family. I haven't ever thought about it much but once I read through the post I realized how difficult I find many of these same tasks.

I am a casino games dealer in my everyday life so I am in contact with people constantly. There are times I have noticed though, that when I have players who either don't speak English or just prefer not to chat with me I will find my mind drifting off to whatever my most recent writing project had been. The dealing procedures are second nature so There are times I will go through an entire hour on the table but when I leave to go on break my boss will ask me a question about a player I barely remember being there.

I also deal a few games that are a combination of table games and slot machines where the dealer does not interact with the players so it is eight hours of thinking. When I get on break I find it difficult to join the conversations with my coworkers because I spent the last hour mentally living in the world of my characters. Even at home the conversations can be hard to follow because I need to bring myself back from wherever I travelled in my head. I will look right at the person I am speaking with but it seems I have to ask people to repeat themselves so I can focus on what they just told me.

I lose track of time frequently when I start thinking about anything writing related. Driving is another task I notice writing can take over. When I went down to the writer's conference in January I was tired but in order to cover as much distance as possible I put on music. The songs that came on instantly inspired a new story which I then spent the rest of the drive plotting. Other than stopping for a quick nap and navigating some intense weather I barely noticed anything besides the plot outline forming in my head. I have since added the file for that book to my pile in my office. There are almost two dozen files in the pile, most of which were created while I was supposed to be doing something else. I may need to find a way to curb this mental tendency in the future.

Father's Day

I share about my boyfriend and my mom quite a bit when I blog. They are both active in my life as friends and support. Both have been involved and encouraged me for the time they have been a part of my life. I don't know where I would be without them. It is easy to see why I call them my partner / management team. The truth, however, is that there are others on that team and one is a person I rarely mention, my dad.

Growing up I had a tenuous relationship with my father. We loved each other but we butted heads at least weekly. He expected a great deal from me. I was fully capable of fulfilling that potential and achieving the things he asked of me but I didn't bother to try very often. I played sports but didn't want to put in the effort of practicing to be any better than I was naturally. I could have done well but didn't care enough. He wanted me to get good grades. I was smart yet I was too distracted / lazy to complete my homework often enough to get the grades he desired.

He never asked about my writing or creative endeavors. My dance recitals seemed to be nothing beyond an obligation when he attended. The one thing that never escaped my attention however, he did attend. He came to every performance I had. He only missed one of my hockey games in almost a decade and made it up to me by taking me to see a real hockey game that night. On a few occasions I would see him watching old VHS tapes of my recitals and smiling. He never knew I knew but I even caught him leafing through some of my short stories and poems, He was proud of me.

I lived to make him proud. No matter what I did, how much we fought, I always wanted to make him proud. I cried the day I finally graduated college. I broke down the day I held a copy of my first book in my hands. I even dreamt about telling him why I wrote Survivor the night before the release party. He left to watch over me from heaven almost ten years ago and not being able to share these things with him has always broken my heart a little. I know he is still watching me. I am sure he is still proud and on today, Father's Day, I am battling how much I miss him. He will never sit down and read the words I have written here but I hope he always knows how much I love him and thank him for being an inspiration to finally achieve the things he knew I was capable of.

Concise

Last week I sat with a friend drinking coffee and discussing our different writing styles. He began by writing short stories then eventually progressed to full length novels. Once he had completed his first full novel he found there was much more ahead for the characters and the book instead became a four book series. Now all he writes are series with a few short stories in between. He assumed everyone followed this same pattern of short to long and once they got to long they discovered the books are so much more.

I was the opposite to a point. Yes I wrote poetry (bad poetry I admit) when I was in elementary school and a few attempts through junior high and high school. I wrote a couple essay length stories during that same era but for the most part I have always been a full length writer. Nanowrimo gave me the challenge I needed in order to get going and I haven't looked back. It wasn't until this year that, as an adult, I had anything to do with short stories.

I entered the NYC Midnight Short Story Contest, something I am hoping to do again in the coming years. It was difficult on so many levels I almost gave up immediately. The way it works is everyone that registers is put into a group. That group is assigned a genre, character and theme. Mine was a Stay At Home Mom, A Wrong Number, and Thriller. Once you have your assignment you have eight days to write, edit and polish, then submit it for consideration against the rest of your group. The top three move on to the next round where they will get new assignments and only three days to complete it. Each round the allotted words gets smaller as well.

Everyone that submits will get feedback, regardless of moving forward. I was attending a conference the first half of the competition. I had never written a thriller before so I was out my element right away. I managed to submit but it was right at the wire. I knew I wouldn't move forward from the moment I hit send and I was correct. I did, however, read through the feedback which was overall more positive than negative. The most difficult part for me was the word count. I kept seeing ways to expand, go further into detail, and inject description. I couldn't without going over the 2500 words though. As I wrote, then edited, then rewrote again I found the wording to be the challenge I had thought genre would have been.

I am still extremely wordy (as I am sure this post shows) but I am hoping to take part in more of the short story contests to try and expand my abilities. Being concise in writing is an art. I used to think it just meant people didn't know what to say or that they didn't believe in themselves enough to write a longer book. They are actually people with a stronger writing ability than I possess. To take someone on a journey in such a short about of time is incredible. Perhaps once day I will post one of my shorts here so you all can read what I am learning to achieve.