Life in progress

Tag Archives: writers


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Does Size Really Matter?

Right now it’s about 4 inches — which is way too big. I might be okay with three, but I know it’s not what they want. They want two. Two inches maximum. What am I to do? Cutting it is painful, to say the least. Torturous even. At best it just doesn’t feel right. Hell, if I had my way it would be five inches if not more!

I’m of course talking about the thickness of my printed manuscript.

I’ve been working on fixing it, line by line, one word at a time and while it’s true that I’m managing to reduce my word count, I’m finding it very costly. What is the cost, you ask? I feel like I’m deleting my own voice from it. I’m trading word count for style. That can’t be good, right?

I’d like to put a question out to all my published author friends. If I decide to e-publish I can keep my inches and be happy with my manuscript. Size only matters to a publishing house. Am I correct?

For all the readers out there, how do you feel about buying a thicker-than-usual book? Do you give it a chance or do you pass it over? Of course if it’s an e-book, you won’t necessarily even know how long it is until after you buy it–I never do, since the size isn’t in direct relation to the cost.

Does size matter to you?


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I Don’t Want to Intimidate You, but…

Do you remember how you felt when you started on WordPress? If you’re fairly new here, I would imagine it’s pretty fresh in your mind. Even I consider myself a bit of a newb, but after just a little more than a year I’ve come to feel comfortable here; I’ve found a great community, some wonderful friends, and plenty of people who I can joke around with.

What stands out most in my mind from when I started, however, is how intimidated I felt when I stumbled across a popular blog and I wanted to comment. Should I? They seem like such a tight bunch of people, bantering about things they’ve learned about one another…

So I was considering this, and I wondered if people who are just starting out feel that way when they stop by to read my blog.

In light of my pondering, I decided to change my comment box prompt from “Leave a comment” to what it is now.

How do you make newcomers feel welcome? How do you encourage them to join in the discussion?


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How Are Chickens Like Days Off?

I’m within an hour of the end of two days off. Yesterday I got a fair bit of work done on my manuscript – almost fifteen pages edited, which for me is flying through. I managed to take the evening off from everything and just watch an episode of “Breaking Bad.” I’ve only watched two so far – still wondering what all the hype’s about.

Then today I was woken up early with a phone call – Chris was sick at school and they couldn’t reach his dad. So I texted my ex, got up, delivered the papers, had a piece of toast and lay on the couch … and proceeded to sleep most of the day away. No editing accomplished.

How are chickens like days off?

Don’t count them before they’re hatched.

I need a week off.


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Of All the Things to Whine About

I’m content. Basically, I am happy with my life, and yes, I’m whining about it. Let me tell you why.

The tortured soul can write poems of epic proportions. In times of loneliness, of pain, of near breakdown, a writer can bleed upon the page. But when this writer has nothing to cause her grief, there is nothing but fluff. Lint, even.

Is it strange to wish I longed for something? To pass my finger quickly through a flame doesn’t hurt. But the flame sparkles, enticingly.

Shall I burn for the sake of my art?

flame


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Missing the Magical Switch

Greater, more successful writers than myself (not a stretch) state that in order to be a writer one must dedicate one’s effort into writing: a writer must write. Here lies my conundrum.

I have no qualms over calling myself a writer. It’s what I do constantly – if I’m not physically typing on a keyboard or writing little notes, I’m composing something in my head with hopes that I’ll remember it.

But being a single mom, 80% responsible for two kids (meaning that I get to sleep 15% of the time and the other 5% is when their dad takes care of them) and having to be always within calling distance of my own mother, I don’t have time to write. What might take me three months more of full-time editing on my novel to render it publishable is, at the rate I’m going, bound to take me three years. Frustrated doesn’t begin to describe it.

I imagine there is, somewhere in the universe, a switch that can be flicked which could cause me to be able to stop merely calling myself a writer and become one. I realize that I cannot expect to ever take on a full-time job; my life is with my children, and taking care of them is apparently my job and mine alone. Would I want it any other way? Absolutely not.

Yet writing is also my life. I don’t live for my children – anyone who says they do, in my opinion, is in for a huge let-down when their kids leave home for good. I live for myself and I am a writer. I have a story that I feel needs to be told, of a world where I hope one day people will be able to escape, as I have. It’s inside me, it’s on my screen and it’s on paper, and all it wants is to be polished to a bright, shiny tale that many will love.

If only the magical switch to make it all come true wasn’t so far out of my reach.


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Stream of Consciousness Saturday Fe15/14

Whilst searching for inspiration for this post today I decided to check out Freshly Pressed. I thought, before opening the page that I would write about the first tag that came up. Surely I have an opinion on just about any subject there could possibly be to write about, don’t I?

The first tag was “Books.” What a broad subject, eh?

I could write about the state of out-of-date textbooks in schools, or the price of the one I had to buy (used) when I took my short story course. It was the size of something I wouldn’t pay more than $20 for in a book store, and yet it cost me almost $100 because it was compiled by a bunch of professors.

I’ve written a few times on the importance of editing work in these days of anyone being able to become a published author, and I’ve written about books I’ve liked and not. Right now I’m reading A Casual Vacancy by J.K. Rowling and, while it was a bit difficult to get into because of the sheer number of characters, I’m about half-way through and enjoying it. It took me a good 33% of the book to retain the information that went with all the characters’ names, however.

You know what I hate? Not being able to put a page number on anything anymore. It’s all percentages when you’re reading an e-book. I think that’s what I miss most about reading a physical book. Knowing where the bookmark goes without a digital device advising me.

So that’s my stream of consciousness post for this week. My experience with books of late. Why do I have to put everything in a box? I blame it on WordPress and the damned tags. 😛


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Newspapers Hire Editors

Apparently the editors at the newspaper I deliver have a head-start on the holiday. They’re already drunk.

drunk editors

(click to enlarge)

 

P.S. Family Day is Monday February 17th.


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Seriously, I’m an Author in Real Life

There are reasons why unpublished authors don’t walk around telling people they’re writing a novel. First and foremost is the puzzled, glazed-over expression that immediately comes over the other person’s face, as they think to themselves, What kind of a flake am I talking to? Then quickly on the heels of that comes the hasty change-of-subject or the hands-behind-the-back stroll-away as they whistle and hope the author doesn’t follow them all the way home.

But it comes to something when an novelist’s family members don’t even take him/her seriously.

Are you a novelist? Do you ever hear your significant other say, over the phone, thinking you’re not listening, “Oh yeah, it’s just a hobby,” regarding your writing? Does the person supposedly looking after your kids allow them to come and ask you questions while you’re trying to work? Do people wander in to ask you if you’d like coffee while you’re trying to write?

It’s said that marketing a book is harder than writing, but on some days I seriously wonder. It takes a great deal of concentration to write something as complicated as a novel. There are many things to keep track of, characters to write and to get into, believe it or not. Getting into a character’s head so that his or her voice comes through well takes time.

So if you walk in on a working author to ask if he/she wants a cup of coffee (the answer is no) and he/she turns to you slowly and asks you in return if you’d care to have your fingernails removed with a screwdriver, chances are the author is in the middle of a torture scene and it has nothing to do with you. Still, back away with your hands behind your back and try to remember next time, IT’S NOT JUST A HOBBY!

I’M AN AUTHOR – IN REAL LIFE!

End rant.


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A Good Job to Have on a Bad Day

Most of us have jobs. Some of us have careers. We all have bad days. You know bad days, right? The sort where you stub your toes on anything available that doesn’t move; your hair won’t do what you want it to; you put your shirt on inside out and don’t realize it until you hear the guy in the next cubicle who you hate with a passion, sniggering… One of those days.

I was cruising around Facebook, wondering what in the world I could write about today, and I came across a picture which has no relevance to this post other than that it inspired me to think: would I want to go to the dentist when he’s having a bad day? The answer, still in my head, was a resounding NO. If you’re wondering, yes, it did resound, and yes, just imagining the idea of a sadistic dentist hurt me in ways that my imagination should not be allowed to hurt me.

Then I pondered other professionals with whom I would not want to deal on their baddest days: a mechanic, a chef, a radiologist whose job was to perform a breast x-ray, a journalist doing an interview… the list goes on.

All this led me to wonder if there’s a good job to be doing on a bad day. I suppose if the job is solitary, there’s only oneself to harm. But even as a writer – a job that can’t get any more solitary – I abuse the hell out of my characters.

So, what do you think? Is there a professional you would feel safe with if they’re having a bad day? Can you think of anyone worse than a dentist?

Comment away, lovely people!


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Return of the Community Storyboard! New Guidelines!

Go submit your awesome writings to the Community Storyboard without delay!