Is This Progress?

-->

Hello, Everyone!

New York City is finally warming and moving out of the 40-50 degrees drizzly-slump. I enjoy those overcast days when I have no temptation to run out into the sun, instead of keeping my rump seated until my writing quota is met. I find that with so many distractions in my life if I can get the writing in first, I’m much more settled for the rest of the day.

Photo by me at the NYC Hudson River Park. 

I’m busy writing and rewriting book two of my canceled Middle Grade, Science Fantasy, while waiting to hear about an R&R and a couple full requests for my YA Historical Fantasy. I’ve also been sending out short story submissions. I have to keep all my plates spinning! I put another SFF draft on hold after about fifty pages when I received notes for the Revise & Resubmit.

The agent who sent the R&R, asked for another if I’m inclined to do so. She’s awesome, and gave me detailed notes on the first 60 pages! So – yeah, I’m eager and looking forward to tackling this R&R again, especially with her professional suggestions.

I originally drafted this story in Omni, (NaNoWriMo) then rewrote the tenses, and POV, and changed it again.

I’m nearing completion on a round of revisions for my MG novel, and once I send it off to beta-readers, I’ll jump back into my YA Historical, Fantasy edits. 

Sometimes I have to write a lot of wrongs before the right way exposes itself. At least I keep moving. Ha! Some distance helps find the humor in this relentless process.

Oh, and one other thing, the Publisher of THE UNMOVING SKY, is closing. Another small press shutting its doors. I will get my rights back, but I’m so unsure of what to do next.  Considering this is my second fiasco with a publisher, I really, really, begging you, Universe, for a wonderful, compatible, hard working agent. A good agent will help protect you in this business. 

Writers and Loneliness

As a full-time writer, some days feel I’m on the outside looking in. The buffet has been set before me, but where’s my seat?  

I write at my day job, the family café, and it’s by no means alone. While not always the easiest place to concentrate, with the random visitors. I’m thankful I’m not sequestered away, hidden in my dark apartment.

The loneliness, the insecurity, the silence, and the doubts, all writers go through this at some point. I was delighted discovering the name for this malaise and uncertainty. I have my writing groups to discuss anything publishing, but still, it’s hard knowing when to bug them or allow time to pass. 

Where to turn?  Inside.    

One less way to be consumed by fears and doubt -- Write it out!

Everyone has a struggle, whether it’s publishing or personal. I find returning to my journal to explore my fears and doubts has helped. Growing up, I always kept a diary. My single- immigrant mother raised us and surviving was a blessing. Eating a wholesome meal was a blessing. Writing in journals saved my creativity in many ways, and reading the journals years later I’ve gleaned a greater awareness about younger me: the patterns of behavior when the second-guessing strikes, and not be too hard on myself because I see the patterns.

An inspiring quote, by biologist and author Rachel Carson. We’re by no means alone.

You are wise enough to understand that being “a little lonely” is not a bad thing. A writer’s occupation is one of the loneliest in the world, even if the loneliness is only an inner solitude and isolation, for that he must have at times if he is to be truly creative. And so I believe only the person who knows and is not afraid of loneliness should aspire to be a writer. But there are also rewards that are rich and peculiarly satisfying.

-->

-->

Ask and You Shall Receive?

This is my weakness. Suppose I always knew and previously believed it made me stronger. After all, I’d rarely, if ever, ask my parents for anything. My mother couldn’t afford much, aside from her love and attentive ears. My father has never been particularly interested in my life. I went to college at 17 and left college for New York City when I was 21. There were no nets. If I failed in New York …

Luckily, the city caught me, shinning her pretty promises. I believed, and this attitude carried me through.

Many jobs and a few apartments later, I still haven’t mastered the art of asking. Which brings me to today. After several creative pursuits, writing fiction won! I have a novella published with Leap Books, Shine imprint, an ebook. My publisher says they’ll print the book—if sales are high enough—in the autumn sometime. I’m still waiting on the news. Do I ask, again?

There are so many questions in this business and without an agent, I often feel like I’m flopping and flailing out here. I’ll keep writing, the only thing I (still) have control over. Lost in the excitement of my stories keeps my heart beating with passion and life. It fills me with creative control. Many other creative pursuits, I’ve dabbled in depended on others. Hence, the asking would be paramount. If I pursued Jazz singing, I have to ask musicians to join and barter their payment.

I need to figure out how to erase this little glitch in my thinking.

Authors have to ask for a lot of things. None of which I’m very good at. I’m always ready to jump in when someone else needs help. That’s’ easy. We ask people to read our books, we beg for reviews, we single out successful authors and ask for book blurbs. In a few minutes I’ll update my query list, and perhaps nudge (ask) if they’ve read my submission.  So many questions!

As authors, we have to exercise this muscle, a lot. Does it get any easier?

If you have any fabulous techniques, please share in the comments.  

My First Post for The International Thriller Writers.

Being a debut writer with ITW I was asked to write a post for their weekly magazine The Thrill Begins. What was I to write I wondered? But with my recently cancelled middle-grade book, and all the work writing and editing that went into it before the rug was pulled out from under me, I found my subject: Taking the Time for Life. 

Writing, writing and more writing.

I did it every day. I woke early as possible to savor those few quiet hours of my day job before customers came clamoring for coffee. I woke earlier on the weekends than my children did. I wrote after cooking dinner, or researched scientific details through the evening. I spent nearly every minute of every day last year writing, editing, and revising three projects while helping my college-bound dyslexic son prepare to audition for four Shakespeare plays. Read more.