My Mommy

I've wanted to share this, but I haven't put it up yet, because it's hard. But I feel like it's important to be shared, especially now that it's so close to Mother's Day, it's important that people know who my mom, who passed away 3/26/18, was. (I can't wait till I can stop seeing Mother's Day commercials.)

This is what I wrote and had read at the memorial service.

I wish you weren’t hearing this right now. I wish I’d never had to write it, not because I don’t want everyone to know how amazing Mom is, but because I want her to be here so you can see for yourselves. Though chances are, if you’re sitting in this room, you have some idea of how great Mom is. But I’m writing to tell you that she’s even more amazing than you know.

            When I say words like “great” and “amazing,” I don’t mean perfect. No one is perfect. What I mean is that Mom tried to be perfect. She put everything she had into everything she did. She learned from her mistakes, apologized when she knew she was wrong, and constantly strived to be better.

            I am proud to say that I have a lot in common with Mom. People say I look like her; they’ve been saying it my whole life. I got so used to hearing it, I took it for granted. But just this past week, several people have told me how much I look like her. Now I hear those words with fresh ears. The words are now more comforting than I ever could’ve imagined, because it’s as though she’s a part of me.

It’s not just looks we have in common. I inherited her ridiculously good memory for dates, times, what we were wearing, what we ate for dinner , and other random facts (it makes for a neat party trick). We’re both shy—insanely so—but quirky and funny when we’re in an environment we feel safe in. We don’t like to lead, but we can if we have to. My mom never stayed silent when something needed to be said, and she taught me to do the same.

            Some people think shy people are weak, that they can be walked on. This isn’t the case with Mom. She got very nervous about making phone calls, large work events, and anything else where she might have to speak or be put on the spot. But when it came to standing up for Angie and me, she never hesitated. She was fierce when it came to protecting us. Once, in middle school, I was selling Girl Scout Cookies door to door. We were fairly new to the neighborhood, so not everyone knew us yet. I went to the house two doors down from us, and the woman who answered the door started screaming at me and saying something along the lines of, “How dare you come to my door! This is my daughter’s neighborhood to sell cookies in! Get out of here!”

            I came home in tears. Mom immediately marched over there to give that woman a piece of her mind. I didn’t hear it (kinda wish I had), but the lady came over and apologized, and invited me to play with her daughter. I have many more memories like that one. If I shared them, we’d be here all day.

            The irony is that Mom didn’t know how good she was. She worried so much over all the things she did wrong. When her illness worsened, I started to think of some things I wanted to tell her, and I worried I wouldn’t get the chance. But one day in January, I had the gift of visiting with her while Scott was out, so it was just the two of us. I got to say the things I needed to. One of those things was telling her how lucky I was that she was always there for me and to thank her for being my mom. She said, “I can’t believe you love me. I was horrible.”

I told her, “Of course I love you.” It makes me sad to remember that she said that, but that was just who she was. She worried that she didn’t do well as a mother. She worried that she wasn’t good enough. But she was the best; I hope she knows that, wherever she is.

            No one knows how to be a parent until it happens. But parenting is even harder when you’re a single mother, and even harder still when a certain teenage daughter named Becky does everything she can to make it more difficult. I was a troubled teenager, and there were times when Mom feared what would become of me. There were probably times she wanted to rip her hair out and scream. Even though she didn’t know how to help me, she did. I got through what she called my “lost weekend.” I got through it because she never gave up on me.

She continued to be there for me, even once I was an adult. It’s a good thing to, because I’ve had my fair share of crap. I’ve walked through hell, swam through floods, sank into quicksand, and gotten lost in the labyrinth of life. I’m not exaggerating. I’ve been through so much, and boy do I have stories (it’s a good thing I’m a writer). But I’m not here to tell those stories. I’m here to tell you who carried me out of hell, who dove into the water and pulled me out—and she can’t even swim!— who rescued me from the quicksand, and who traversed the labyrinth to guide me home. That person is my mom, and I honestly don’t know where I would be without her. She gave me the strength to traverse the steepest mountains. I believe in myself today because she believes in me.  

I once told her I had her to thank for where I am today, for the accomplishments I made and the things I did. She said, “No. I didn’t do that. You did.” Maybe she was right, but I couldn’t have done it without her. Now, I’m terrified because I don’t know how to do this life thing without her. I’m afraid I might crumble to pieces, that I don’t know what to do or where to turn. I’m afraid, but just before she passed, I told her I’d be okay. I honestly don’t know if it’s true or not, but if it is, it will be because she gave me the strength to be okay, because she believed in me and stood beside me. She can’t hold my hand, or give me advice, but she’ll be in my heart. She gave me herself, and that is a gift I will keep forever.

The Cemetery in the Rain

I went to the cemetery today. I haven't been since the day we put my mom's urn in the ground. It was freezing that day. I chose today because it was raining and I love rain. It seemed appropriate, and I also really wanted to be alone, and I figured no one else would go to the cemetery in 45 degree rain. I was right, and that was nice. I brought an umbrella and my headphones, some paper (all I had in my car were random scrap papers and a wrinkled folder) and a pen, and a sweater to sit on.

Because I have no sense of direction, I couldn't remember where my mom's grave was, so I wandered around for about twenty minutes, stopping and sitting on the gravel path whenever inspiration struck me. I finally found my mom, after I decided to give up looking and head back to the car. Her grave was ten feet from the car and I'd walked right past it.

Anyway, here are the poems I wrote.

Raindrops Above You

I don't know who you were
but I cried for you today.
Or maybe that was just the rain;
but either way I thought of you--
who you were and what you once wanted.

An angel statue, and a cat, tall and majestic.
The cat drew me to you; it made me think of you and cry for you today.
Maybe others were thinking of you, but maybe not today.
Today it was cloudy
Today it was rainy
Today the mountains were shadowed and gray
and cold raindrops dampened the ground above you.
Today I walked by.
Today I thought of you.


Lost in the cemetery in the rain

Lost in the cemetery.
In the rain.
It's a great title. There's so much in that one sentence.
Or is it two?
How lost am I? In what way am I lost?
Have I lost my map or made a wrong turn?
Or am I lost in my grief, lost without you.

But maybe it's only a title.
Maybe there is nothing more.

I'm only lost.

In the cemetery.
In the rain.

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Thanks for reading! If you haven't seen it yet, here's a link to the Go Fund Me my friend set up to send me to writer's conferences. https://www.gofundme.com/help-this-amazing-writer?member=51762

Another Way To Help

Hi, everyone!

By now many of you may have seen the Go Fund Me my wonderful friend set up for me. If you haven't, I'll link it at the bottom. It's to help me raise funds to attend a couple of upcoming writer's conferences. These events are very important in helping me to achieve my goal of becoming a published and full-time author. I am very close to finishing my literary mystery "Pieces" and will soon be ready to shop it to agents. These events will allow me to meet with agents and editors, network with other writers of all skill levels, and attend workshops that will help me grow my craft. If you know me at all (online or IRL) you know how important writing is to me, and how hard I've worked over the years. You also know that it's been a rough three years for me, which is why attending these events without financial assistance is difficult. With the help of some friends, an anonymous person, and a former friend and coworker of my mom's, I am closer to having what I need to attend, but I'm not quite there yet.

Aside from writing, I've also been an avid jewelry maker. Some friends and I sell our jewelry for charity on our Etsy shop, Pins With Purpose. It's been very rewarding. To date, we've raised over $3000 for various causes. In addition to making jewelry for our shop, I also do much of the social media advertising. It's been great to know that I've been able to help people, especially while things haven't been going well for me. I've enjoyed making jewelry so much, that I have more than we really need for our charity. With the encouragement of my fellow craftivists, I've opened up my own for-profit Etsy shop, My Voice Boutique. There are just a few items up so far, but I'm always adding more.

I mention this here, because the money I would make from My Voice Boutique is extra money, therefore I could use it for things like writer's conferences. So, if you're not into just donating/giving me $ (which I totally understand) you can buy something from me. It's a win-win. Here are a couple of the items I have for sale:

You can view more at my shop: etsy.com/shop/myvoiceboutique

And here's the Go Fund Me page if you'd like to learn more:https://www.gofundme.com/help-this-amazing-writer?member=51762

Thanks!

A Long Journey Indeed

Hello friends, family, fellow writers, and the few random strangers who maybe clicked on my blog (I like to be positive and think that this is happening).

It's been awhile since I've blogged. I've been a little scarce in the blogging/Twitter world. My mom has been sick with COPD for several years. In January, her illness took a turn for the worst, and it's been terribly painful watching her go through that and not being able to help her. She passed away at the end of March, and I miss her terribly, though I'm glad she is no longer suffering. I couldn't have asked for a better mother. I'm honestly afraid of making it in this world without her.

My mom has helped me through many rough times, especially in the past few years. I wouldn't have made it through my most recent ordeal without her.

For five+ years I worked at a non-profit job as a community connector (this is a title that encompasses behavioral analysis, counseling, driving, CNA-type duties, care-taking, paper-work, janitorial work, etc. etc.). I took care of older adults with developmental and degenerative disabilities. I loved my job, mainly because of the wonderful people I had the pleasure of meeting and serving.

One day in June of 2014 I was assisting a client with gait issues walk. This is something I've done dozens of times over the years. Even with assistance, he was so unsteady that he fell frequently. He fell this day, but it wasn't like any other fall. He bumped my knee and took me down with him. I landed with my foot trapped underneath me. I immediately got up to assist him. It was a few minutes before I even realized I was hurt.

A visit to the urgent care revealed that I'd incurred a mild ankle sprain. The doctor advised rest, ice, compression and work restrictions, and said I'd likely be fully healed in two weeks. Except I wasn't. I was no better than I was immediately after the injury. I was referred to a specialist, where the injury was re-diagnosed as a high ankle sprain (less common, more severe). I continued working on restrictions and began going to physical therapy. After several weeks of PT, my injury was still no better. I was in pain all the time and miserable. It was very difficult to get through the work day, even with the restrictions. It was too much on my body. Finally, I had an MRI, which showed that surgery would be necessary to repair the damaged tendon and ligament.

Just after surgery, I was let go from my job because the company did not have a position that could accomodate my needs. It was past 90 days, so they were in their legal right to do this.

The surgery went well, and after a month of wearing a cast, I returned to physically therapy. Things were starting to look up. I was working hard in PT and gaining more function and the pain was lessening. But just when I thought I was ready to return to work, the pain began to worsen, and the swelling in my ankle returned. After being referred to a new podiatrist and having another MRI, it was revealed that while the ligament was well and good, the tendon was not. It had had a bad reaction to the sutures and was torn again. So once again I went under the knife, this time with a rather attractive surgeon holding said knife. I told him so while recovering from surgery and possibly a little looped on medications.

I went through the drill all over again: rest, non-weight bearing, crawling on the floor to carry hot coffee, cast, and finally physical therapy. And more physical therapy. And pain. And more pain. Continued pain and swelling. The function in my ankle returned, while some swelling and pain remained. The surgeon admitted that he did not know where to go from here, while the physical therapists tried various techniques, including weird electric things and tape. Yes tape. I guess their reasoning was that what two surgeries couldn't fix, surely some freaking tape could. As shocking as this might my seem, the tape didn't work. I was sent to a pain specialist, an occupational therapist, and a psychologist, because at this point, most doctors believed the pain was in my head. I had a new worker's comp doctor put in charge of my case, and she did a pretty terrible job of listening to me and assessing my needs.

At this point, I had to become a strong self-advocate, something that is terribly hard for me. I had to fight tooth and nail to get necessary treatments. It took forever, and I wanted to give up many, many times. The insurance company was ready to kick me to the curb and my doctor was no help. She did not listen to me and accused me of wanting money, despite my insistence that I only wanted treatment. At this point, the pain had spread from my ankle, to my foot, and up my leg. This is called  peripheral neuropathy, and it's a real asshole. It hurts like hell and is the weirdest kind of pain you can imagine. It has to do with angry nerves and can be caused by compression or surgery. Burning, pounding, crushing pain spread through my whole foot and up my leg into my knee. After a while, it moved to the other leg. Yes, it did. It sounds crazy, but it can happen. I was put through a number of tests to see if I had Complex Regional Pain Syndrome, a severe form of neuropathy that occurs in a limb. All my test results were negative, but every symptom I had fits perfectly into CRPS. Several physical therapists said they suspected I have CRPS. In much of the research I did, it was stated that none of the tests are fully accurate or conclusive. According to my research, CRPS is the only condition in which the patient experiences mirror pain--pain in the opposite, uninjured limb, like I had.

I was in pain all the time and severely depressed. My doctor didn't believe me and was closing my worker's comp case, meaning I would no longer receive disability benefits or any treatment. I was in no shape to go back to work. I was forced to hire an attorney. Just finding an attorney was yet another trial. Most attorneys won't take ankle cases, mainly because they don't pay much. Attorneys want severe car accidents and back injuries, and they told me this point blank. After talking to close to ten attorneys, I finally found one who was willing to take my case. But even so, it was still a battle. I had to see an independent doctor for an exam, and convince this one man that I needed more medical care. I couldn't just go to any doctor, I had to go to one my attorney and the worker's comp insurance company agreed on. It's a pretty messed up system. My attorney was not thrilled about the doctor I wound up with. Lucky for me, my attorney was wrong.

Dr. Regan listened to me and heard my frustration and agreed that I needed more care. He diagnosed me with CRPS and ordered more tests, and also thought I needed to see another ankle surgeon (something I'd been trying to tell my primary WC doctor, who wouldn't listen.) It was actually pretty satisfying taking this report back to my WC doctor. I wanted to wave it in her face and say, "I told you so!" I of course didn't, but I didn't have to. The report said it for me. She was wrong, and she knew it. Ever since then, she's listened to me and what I have to say.

Of course, the insurance company wasn't ready to give in. They filed for a hearing to dispute Dr. Regan's assessment, but it never got that far. The new surgeon used a more appropriate test than an MRI (dynamic ultrasound) and determined that my tendons and ligaments were a giant mess, like spaghetti noodles all clumped together. Likely there was an angry nerve trapped in that mess, causing all that awful nerve pain. So after jumping through more hoops, the insurance company was forced to back down and accept that I needed a third surgery, and reinstated my benefits. That was one year ago. My ankle is now strong. It still hurts, and I still have neuropathic pain in both legs, but it is much less than it was. The surgeon believes the nerves will likely calm down with time.

I've mostly made it through that ridiculous ordeal. I'm exhausted. It was a nightmare fighting so hard against the insurance company and doctors. The whole thing made me feel like shit mentally, on top of the physical pain. I felt like a worthless loser. I was unable to work, yet most doctors said I was fine. I was terrified about money running out and had no control over anything.

Luckily, I had a lot of support from friends and family. They played an important role in getting me through it, but they couldn't stop the depression, or that feeling of uselessness. Nothing stopped it completely, but there is one thing that helped it a great deal, and that's writing. Writing is my passion, my long-term career goal, my obsession, and my great love. I wrote before my injury and continued after. On good days, I pretended I wasn't disabled, but instead a full-time writer. My stories were my saviors. They gave me hope and purpose. I can say with perfect honesty that I don't know how I would've survived that time if I didn't have my writing. It gave me purpose. Without it, my depression might've taken over. I'm not exaggerating. It's just the truth.

I'm now back at work, and it feels really good to be out in the world again. It also feels good to be helping people again. My work is very different than what I did previously, but still rewarding. I work at a large non-profit helping homeless veterans find housing. I enjoy it and hope to continue it. The irony is that the book I've been working on for the past two years is called Pieces, a literary mystery about a combat veteran with PTSD trying to put his life back together.

I went back to work in December, just before my mom got sicker. She was thrilled to know I was doing better; she'd been very worried about me. In early March, she asked if I was better, and I said yes. This wasn't completely true, but true enough. This was about two weeks before she passed. I think she needed to know I would be okay.

Even though I have a job again, writing is still my goal. Pieces is almost ready to send to agents. My strength as a writer has grown over the years, but there is always room for improvement. The best way to improve is to network with other writers, attend workshops and meet agents and editors. Lucky for me, there are several events like this in Colorado. One is in June, called LitFest. The other is in September, the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers Gold Conference. I plan to enter Pieces in the RMFW Gold Contest this May. The winners are announced at the conference. It would be wonderful if I could be there, whether I'm a finalist or not. There will be many agents and editors at this event, and I would love the opportunity to meet them and discuss my novel with them.

Unfortunately, conferences are expensive. Really expensive. But this is where my wonderful friends come in. One of my best friends set up a Go Fund Me for me, to help me fulfill my dreams, and some of my friends have already contributed. It's starting to seem possible that I might get to attend these conferences, and I couldn't be more grateful. The link to the campaign is below. I would appreciate any contributions anyone can give. If you can't, please share this post with your friends. Thank you so much! Love to all!

https://www.gofundme.com/help-this-amazing-writer

I'm Back

For real, I swear. Until my next blogging hiatus. But with four works in progress, a volunteer non-profit charity biz, a new jewelry biz (very new), a new job for the first time in 3 years, continued chronic pain, exercises to keep up on, chronic migraines, two cats to try and get to stop killing each other, and a sick/dying parent, it's hard to keep up on the blogging. But I want to blog. I want to do all the things.

As is tradition for when I've taken a blogging hiatus, I will discuss my current writing projects. Because that's how it's done. More about all that other stuff later. And it's a lot.

Four works in progress.

My first priority: "Pieces" A contemporary mystery with light paranormal elements. It's in the final stages. I've gotten good feedback from drafts 2 and 3 from different sets of beta readers and am working on the 4th draft, which is more editing than rewriting. Finally! When you've moved from constant rewrites into actual edits, you've gotten somewhere. Because I said so. I think it may be done by mid-year, maybe sooner. It's hard to say. But I'm super excited. I plan to enter it into some contests and try to attend some writing conferences this year to meet with agents in person. I think this one is the most commercially-marketable of all my stories, so I'm definitely going to try the traditional route with it. I think I will be in fully querying-swing by Fall, definitely winter.

Priority 2 is "New Year's Revolution" (Formerly Bloody New Year and Vampiric Vanguard. Still thinking of using Vampiric Vanguard as a series title.) This is an urban fantasy/paranormal/post-apocalyptic novel. It's my first baby, and has therefore seen many rewrites/edits. Somewhere between 7 and 10. But I've discovered the solution: it's not a three book series, as originally planned. It's four. The first book needs to be cut in half. I feel confident about these changes. My goal is to have this ready to be queried (again) by the end of the year. It's doable. I've queried agents for this in the past and gotten roughly 30 rejections (go me!). I'm aiming for the 3 digits. When your number of rejections hit the hundreds, you know you've made it. I plan to query some agents, but mostly small/indie publishers.

These two books will keep me busy most of the year, but I have not forgotten my other two children. I began my fourth novel "Eternal" in November (NaNoWriMo 2017). While I got it past 50k, I did not complete the rough draft, but that's okay. I know where the story is going and felt like continued work on the sloppy rough draft wasn't productive. I don't know when I'll be ready to work on it again, but I feel like I'll be ready to write a solid draft two when the time comes. Oh yeah, it's a speculative romance. I know, I'm writing a romance. Who would've thought? While I won't be writing on it for a while, I will be reading in preparation: lesbian romance novels, stories that take place in the 80s, and stories that feature mixed race characters.

Last but not least is "Caribou Canyon" later called "City of Secrets". This is my second baby. I love it, but don't know where to go from here. It's a YA paranormal, and the story is too big. There are 3 MCs, and I fell in love with all of them and gave each character many subplots. The polished first draft rounded out at 250k words. Yes, you read that correctly. I started releasing it as a serial on Jukepop, but that didn't pan out. Then I started releasing it on my blog, but I'm not sure that's what I want to do with it. I think I'm going to remove it from my blog and set it aside in my mind, but I definitely want to continue it. At this point, I would likely polish it up and self-publish it, maybe in installments.

Okay, so those are my writing projects. I'm having a busy 2018, and that's just about the writing. So many other things are happening, many of them painful and trying and sometimes I just want to curl up and sleep, and keep sleeping, and keep on sleeping. But writing is my passion, my art, my life. I will take all of this crap and funnel it into my stories.

Get ready world. They are coming.

It's finished!

This post is a wee bit late. I have finished the 3rd draft of Pieces. Yay!

This is super exciting. In case anyone missed the news, Pieces is a literary mystery with paranormal elements, and it's "the one." Some authors say you shouldn't bank on having "the one." But I have it. It's Pieces. For the 3rd draft, I took into account most of the feedback I got on the 2nd draft from my wonderful Writ & Art group. I have found 4 new beta readers, two of which are my experts: an Army vet and a psychotherapist.

I was hoping that I wouldn't have to do more than 3 drafts, but there will definitely need to be a polish/edit once I get their feedback. I'll probably name the file 4th draft, but I should be able to do it very quickly, unless I totally effed up the military stuff, in which case I'm screwed. But I don't think I did. My wonderful Writ & Art group will be reading the "4th and please for the love of god let it be the final" draft.

The thing I'm still worried about (of course) is the freaking word count. Word counts are the bane of my existence.

At 135k words, it's still way too long. I'm not sure what to do about this. I love all of it. I have already trimmed most of the fat, though there may still be some hidden fat to trim here and there. We'll see, but I don't want to compromise what it is to make it fit the standards of today's novel. Today's novel is short. I blame the internet and shortened attention spans.

I'm excited to hear what people have to say. And nervous. But it's also almost November, which means I'll have a wee bit of something to distract me from thinking about Pieces.

More updates later.

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I'm afraid of the dark

. . . But only certain kinds of dark. Some kinds of dark are super fun. The dark I'm afraid of is the darker side of humanity. As a fiction writer, this a problem. Generally speaking, antagonists are representative of the dark, ugly sides of humanity. They're what we fear. I'm not necessarily afraid of evil psychopaths and mass murderers. I'm afraid of writing them. If I write them accurately, I have to delve into their brain, and that's scary as hell.

Sometimes it's fun. I've been thinking a lot about these fears lately. I think this is the appeal of supernatural monsters: vampires, werewolves, zombies, demons, etc. For me, and maybe others, it's easy to write these characters as evil because they aren't us. They aren't human. In New Year's Revolution, I have a vampire character named Bianca who is horribly evil and deranged. She is completely screwed up in the head and has done horrible, unspeakable things. But I have no problem writing her. In fact, I love writing her. She's awesome. I love how demented she is. But she's a vampire. She isn't human. I don't have to fear becoming her because she is literally a monster. In City of Secrets I have an evil ghost. He's also done horrible things. But he's a powerful ghost who feeds off of selfish desires. Again, he is literally a monster.

It's the human bad guys that terrify me. In Pieces my antagonist is a murderer and a child molester. This is a human being who does unspeakable things. I'm not writing in this character's POV, but even so, I'm having a hard time getting in their head. (Using "they" as a genderless pronoun on the off-chance that a future beta reader reads this post. I don't want to give away who the antag is.) I have no idea what this person's "mask" is. I don't know what they're thinking on a daily basis. I don't know how they're supposed to interact with the other characters. I winged it for the second draft, but now that I'm writing the third draft, it's time to dig deeper, whether I like it or not. I don't.

As I started digging into their head and realizing their backstory, they started to become more human. At first, I thought "Yay! I know more about them!" But then I balked. I don't want this character to feel human, because it brings me to the question "If this person is a human, with real, human feelings, how terrifying is it that they do these unspeakable things?"

I am someone whose opinion falls into the gray area on a number of subjects. There are very few things in this world that are black and white. Serial killers, terrorists, and child molesters? I used to think they were all bad. That was a nice, comforting thought. Something is wrong with these people. They were born bad. But maybe they weren't. Something happened to them that made them bad. Or, even scarier, they don't believe they're bad. Inside their heads are warped ideas and motives behind what they are doing. In the case of my antagonist, they believe they are doing good. These thoughts are scary, because it makes me realize that maybe I'm less different from the "bad guys" than I thought I was. I view these people with pity. I can't fathom willingly deciding to hurt or violate someone. I also can't fathom someone else willingly deciding to hurt or violate someone. So what made them do it? What makes a killer a killer and a rapist a rapist? Did they lose control? Did something take over their brain and make them do it? Did they find some twisted justification?

This brings me to my deepest, darkest fear, one that I don't usually talk about for fear of people misunderstanding and/or thinking I'm crazy. What if something happens and I suddenly become evil? It sounds ridiculous on paper, but there it is. I love horror novels and movies, but there's a certain type of psychological horror that I can't handle. I used to be a big Dean Koontz fan. I was reading Moonlight Bay (minor spoiler coming, but nothing that'll ruin it). It was great. It was one of my favorites, until I got to this part where this man, who was a perfectly normal, nice, family guy started having nightmares about raping and murdering his wife and daughter. The nightmares terrified him, but they wouldn't stop coming. Eventually he started to want to do it, and to fantasize about it. I had to put the book down for a bit, it disturbed me so much. I realize it's fiction, but it's a terrifying thought.

Getting back to my writing, it's hard for me to dip into the mind of my evil antagonists, because I fear finding out that their mind maybe isn't that different from mine. Maybe the line between good and evil isn't as clear as I thought.
On the other hand, maybe digging into their brain might ease my fears. Maybe I'll realize that while their minds are more complicated than I thought, there is a difference. I don't know, but I do know that I want to write good books. Books with genuine characters. Books that scare people but also comfort them. Books that make people think. Books people can relate to. In order to do that, I have to face my fear of the dark.
I hope it gets easier.
Thoughts and suggestions on how to do this and/or cope with it are welcome. Thanks!

It'd be awesome if you liked me on FB! facebook.com/beckymunyonauthor

What if the ideas run out?

As a writer, one of my biggest fears is that one day I'll stop having great ideas, that the well will be dry, and I'll have no more great stories. This is especially scary because I've just now started to get better at putting a good story together. What if there are no more ideas to put into stories?

When I started my first novel, New Year's Revolution, in 2010, I expected it to be a fluke, and at the time I was totally fine with that. I just wanted to get Ella's story written. Eventually, the idea for City of Secrets came to me, and Pieces soon followed. These three stories have been keeping me pretty busy, so I haven't had time to worry about the idea well going dry. During that time, a number of other ideas have floated in and out of my brain, but none of them have given me that warm-fuzzy "this is it" feeling. Now, Pieces is almost finished and I'm not entirely sure what I'll be doing with the other two, which means it might be time to start thinking about a new project.

Guess when is a great time to start thinking about new projects? That's right, Fall is a great time for that, because NaNoWriMo is right around the corner. I had a brand new idea recently, but it's still just a tiny seed. I'm starting to worry that I don't know how to turn those little seeds into great stories. If I were a plotter, this would be fine. I'd know what to do. But I'm not a plotter. "The stuff" has to come to me naturally. Or at least, that's how it's worked in the past. But what if that magic won't happen anymore? What if I have to sit down and force it out?

What if I have to learn to plot?

Yeah. It's horrifying. 

Bright side: I wrote down a few more brainstorms tonight, so I think I might be able to do something with this idea. 

It'll be a romance. Say what?

I'm having a hard time believing it myself. 

If I'm lucky, I may even have enough of an idea formed to be able to write a crappy draft during November. I really like the idea of "beginning a 1st draft in November for NaNoWriMo" tradition. It worked great for 2015, when I wrote the 1st draft of Pieces. In 2016, I just started the 2nd draft of Pieces and started to write a lot, so it doesn't quite count as a second year of NaNo. 

While I'm excited about the idea, I'm wondering if this will always be my fear. Maybe it's a writer thing? If we run out of ideas, what do we have left?

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Where to go?

Hello loyal readers whom I've neglected! I've missed all 3 or 4 of you!

Where have I been? I'm so glad you asked. I've been writing non-stop on Pieces, my literary mystery, or possibly my mystery. With light paranormal elements. Yes, I'm still having genre woes.

Something magical happened in the middle of the second draft of Pieces: I leveled up. My writing has reached a new level of maturity. This is wonderful, but it has its drawbacks. More on the drawbacks later.

I've finished the 2nd draft and am already plowing through the 3rd draft, which is mostly revising and editing rather than rewriting, which is awesome. It's also a lot of deleting, because I still have a problem with too many words. More on that in another post.

So, those drawbacks I mentioned. I'm no longer feeling my older novels. You know, that vampire novel I started 7 years ago? Yeah, that one. My first born child. I love it, but I'm not sure I can get back into writing it. All those bad drafts are burned into my brain. It's hard to explain, but I know a lot of writers eventually wind up putting their first books away. I didn't want this to happen, but I'm just not feeling it anymore.

My other problem? I'm not sure what to do with my second novel, City of Secrets, which I began releasing chapter by chapter. It's still here on my blog, but I'm not sure what I want to do with it anymore. The serial site didn't work out the way I'd hoped. I'm not against continuing to release it on my blog, I'm just not sure anymore.

What am I sure of?

Finishing Pieces. I plan to have that done by the end of the year. By "done" I mean ready to query. It's happening.

I'm also sure of this other brand spanking new idea that's brewing in my mind. I know, I know. Should I start a new novel when I have two old ones kicking around? Maybe not, but I think the new one could get written faster and better than those older ones. I've evolved, and my stories have evolved with me.

These are the hard problems writers have. Letting a baby go is scary, but moving on to bigger and better stories is wonderful.

Don't forget to like me on FB! Facebook.com/beckymunyonauthor

My poor neglected blog

Hello, poor neglected blog. I've really missed you.

Okay, so it hasn't been totally neglected, mainly because I've been posting my YA Paranormal, City of Secrets, on it. But still, as far as my blogging about writing: it's been neglected.

So much has been happening over the past year. The main reason it's been neglected is because last summer I began working on multiple projects, which I swore I would never do. I was trying to keep up regular installments of City of Secrets while working on my Adult Post-Apocalypse vampire novel, New Year's Revolution. Now NYR is on hold while I work on Pieces, my first ever in the Adult literary fiction category (more on the progress of Pieces later). So many projects. I told myself I wouldn't work on multiple projects, but I did. The ideas just started building up and I didn't want to ignore any one of them. So the blog suffered. Big time.

Then I started throwing myself into jewelry making. I am now a seasoned jewelry maker, though I like to say craftivist. Why craftivist? My friend started an organization called Pins With Purpose. Artists volunteer time and supplies to make jewelry to sell for charity. Learn more here:
Etsy.com/shop/PinsWithPurpose
Yes, that was indeed a shameless plug.
Along with jewelry making, I've thrown myself into the advertising and marketing of PWP, so I'm on the net all the time tweeting. That is not an easy task. So the blog suffered. Big time.

I've also spent the past year dealing with chronic neuropathy and ankle pain and battling with a WC insurance company to get healthcare. The pain makes me very fatigued. I did finally have surgery number three on my ankle. It's hard to say at this point how I'm recovering, but I'm thinking positively. Guess what? That contributed to the suffering of my blog. Big time.

Those are just a few of the things that made me neglect my poor blog. But I worked hard on getting this blog going, and I don't want to lose it. So I'm back. I will be blogging about writing again, and whatever else comes to mind.

Stay tuned . . .  Exciting news (I swear) to come.

Until then, you should check out my YA Paranormal serial, City of Secrets. It's about a small town with plenty of juicy secrets and some ghosts. It's free to read here on my blog. I'd love comments and opinions. Thanks.
bit.ly/2onwkig

Also, I'd love a FB like! Facebook.com/beckymunyonauthor
Thanks! You're all awesome!

Way too much . . .

     Well, I've neglected my blog again. As is customary after neglecting my blog comes the post explaining why I neglected it and how I'm going to get back on track again. For some reason, I can't get back into blogging until I write this post. I guess it's like hitting the reset button.

     Wow. So, my last post was early September, which may be a new record for me as far as neglecting my blog goes. I'm sorry, loyal readers!

     Since July, I changed my writing "system", for lack of a better word. I began publishing my serial "City of Secrets" weekly, and while trying to keep up with that, I was also working on "New Year's Revolution." All while trying to keep up on my blog, which I was actually managing for a while. Also, I was spending a lot of time looking for freelance writing jobs which took up about an hour a day, though I'm setting this venture aside for now. All while reading research books for my literary mystery (the novel I wrote for NANO last year) which may be titled Broken Minds. Still not sure on this though. I have about titles four I like.

     Then came my first major writer's conference in early September. That was awesome, and there will be more about that in a later post. The conference took up a lot of time and energy. I'm also dealing with my ongoing injury/worker's comp case, which has been stressful and time consuming. Along with various other things, my stress level has been through the roof. Something had to give. Which meant the blog got pushed to the back burner.

     Things have calmed down a little, so I'm trying to balance my many writing ventures again, though with a few changes. Unfortunately, choosing to publish my serial weekly might have been biting off more than I can chew, but for the time being I'd like to see if I can make it work, while still working on my other novels. I really don't want to switch to a bi-weekly schedule, because the story is so long that it will never finish if I do it that way, but we'll see. I'm hoping that maybe now that I actually know how much work is involved, I'll be able to balance it better. Fingers crossed.

     Anyway, I'm back! You can look forward to more posts soon. Promise!

     If you haven't checked out my YA Paranormal Mystery "City of Secrets" yet, you totally should. It's free to read, and my friends tell me it's really good. ;-) Here's a convenient link for you. :-)

http://bit.ly/2a7FNDD

Fruit Loops, Frosted Flakes, and Picking the Marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms

Because come on, don't try and tell me you didn't pick out the marshmallows. Those are the best part. Sometimes I just wanted to have a bowl of nothing but marshmallows. I mean, what was even the point of those, those--what were those other things anyway? Were they even healthy? Probably not.

The second best thing about the cereal was of course digging through the box for the toy. Even better, when you had to get out a big mixing bowl to dump the cereal in just so you could get the toy. And then your mom would come and get all mad about it. My boyfriend bought a box of Cheerios a couple weeks ago that had a toy from "The Secret Life of Pets" and I started reminiscing about this very topic. He informed me that he'd never done this. I was appalled, and insisted that we do it right then and there, but he refused.

Some people.

I just don't even know.

Anyway, you're probably wondering why I'm writing a blog to talk about breakfast cereal, and actually, I'm not. I intended to talk about a serial. Not serial killers. I mean, sure, there's plenty of interesting stuff to talk about along those lines, but I'm in a pretty good mood after thinking about that bowl full of nothing but marshmallows, and I don't want to ruin it. So instead I'm going to talk about web serials. Books. The reading kind. Books books wonderful wonderful books.

In case you haven't heard me mention it once or twice or eight hundred times, my YA paranormal "City of Secrets" is being released chapter by chapter on JukePop serials. In all of my excitement in getting it ready and hyping it up and promoting it, I'm not entirely sure if I fully explained exactly what a serial is. My boyfriend pointed this fact out to me. I was like, "Oops."

Serial fiction is not a new thing. Charles Dickens and his contemporaries made it popular. (I feel like I got smarter just by composing that sentence.) It sparked up again recently as sort of a cross between reading and social media. Some of the most popular sites are Wattpad and Jukepop. It's free to readers, and while most authors get to choose when they release their chapters, readers have the luxury of just reading one chapter at a time. So, it totally fits the fast-paced lifestyle of the 21st century.

Mine's been up for almost three weeks (chapter 3 goes up tomorrow--hint, hint). It's going fairly well so far. I'm still looking into the best ways to advertise. I started out with the standard Twitter, Facebook, and blog, which I'm learning aren't the best. I think when people are on Twitter or Facebook that's where they want to be at the moment. They don't want to click a link to read a book. Or maybe they don't understand that it's free, or that they don't have to commit to reading an entire novel. I'm not completely sure, but those are my best guesses. So, I'm looking into advertising on more reading/book oriented sites. But it's a lot of work, in addition to the eight million things I'm already doing. But it's been fun so far, and I've started reading some of the other stories up on JukePop, and I've found some good ones.

I will definitely share more of what I've learned from this in the future, so you will all know what to do and what not to do in case you are thinking of following in my footsteps.

But definitely, have a bowl of marshmallows.

And also, read the first 2 chapters of "City of Secrets." You know you want to.  Oh look, the link just happens to be right here for your convenience. http://bit.ly/2a7FNDD

It's starting to get like the DMV up here...only much more awesome

Way, way more awesome.

Where is up here, you ask? Well, that would be the inside of my brain, of course. Beckyland. The place where ideas and daydreams are born. It's the place where my characters live while they are awaiting for me to finish their stories. . . . hmm . . . does that mean it's like purgatory? And if it is, what does that say about what happens to the characters when their story is finished? On no! They're not dead after that, are they?

No . . . wait . . . it's the opposite of purgatory. It's the before. It's like the womb. So, when their story is finished, they've been born, and they are out in the world.

Phew. That was scary.

Okay, none of that was actually the point of this post. The point is that my brain is getting to be like the DMV (only much cleaner, prettier--lots of purple--,more things to do while waiting, etc.). A while ago I wrote a post about how I was afraid that my first novel was just a fluke and I'd never have another story idea, but then suddenly the ideas started coming. Last night at 2:00 AM (almost on the nose; it's the magic time), another novel idea came to me. Thankfully, it's a standalone. The idea I had a few months ago was for a trilogy (or maybe a longer series, that has yet to be determined). And this new idea is for a romance novel, which is really weird because I don't do romance as the main genre, but I'm going to write it, because it's a good idea.

Where does the DMV thing come in? Well, while I'm no longer opposed to working on multiple projects, I am not going to start any new projects until at least one of the three I am currently working on is finished. And by that I mean, I am going to try very hard not to start a new project until at least one of the three I'm currently working on is finished. So that means these new ideas have to take a number. Right now, since I'm new to this publishing thing and don't have a lot of money, I just have one of those cheap little machines where the ideas pull a paper number out and a new slip moves forward. In the future, I'd like to upgrade to a fancy computer system where the ideas will see a touch screen and they can type in what kind of idea they are: what genre, memoir, stand-alone, series, novella, short story, etc. That way, they may get a different place in line depending on what kind of attention they need. But that may not need to happen until the ideas start getting backed up into the two-digits.

I don't know how some writers churn out twenty or thirty books. I suppose you get faster over time, but I'm still waiting for that to happen. At least I know the idea train is functioning.

Psst . . . Have you checked out Chapter 1 of my serial, City of Secrets, yet? You totally should:

https://www.jukepop.com/home/read/9558?chapter=1

Real, actual cures for writer's block (I swear)

     If you're a writer then at least once in your life you've experienced that dreaded moment when the words just will not flow no matter what you do.

     The ideas are in your head. You've waited all day to write. You sit down in front of your computer, or you have your notebook and 1.6 mm pen (their ink is so squishy) and suddenly you can't do it. Maybe you're nervous you won't get it right. Maybe it's an emotional scene that's hard for you to write. Maybe there's a bunch of crap going on in your life that is somehow preventing you from working on your favorite hobby or life's dream (stupid life crap--as if it isn't crappy enough as it is). Maybe you're too physically and mentally exhausted from your day job and family/friend duties to have the mental energy to write (writing is kind of paradoxical that way--it's fun and relaxing, but also takes mental energy). Or maybe there's just no logical reason at all. 

     You just can't get the words out.

     If you're lucky, this only happens every now and then and only lasts for maybe a day or two. Sometimes it's scene specific. Other times it's life event specific. Other times there's no rhyme or reason. 

     If the block plagues you long enough you probably start to feel a great gaping hole open up inside you. You miss writing. You've had it with people and their well-meaning suggestions for how to fix it. You're probably sick to death of the phrase "writer's block." You probably didn't want to read my post just because of the title. You've probably read every freaking article, blog post, book, paragraph, tweet, and piece of graffiti on a wall in an alley behind a Chinese restaurant ever written on the subject. You're probably sick to the death of the very word "block" and anything that remotely resembles a block. If you have children, grandchildren, nieces or nephews, or friends with children and they want to play with blocks you want to throw their blocks into the fireplace. Don't do this--the child might cry, and then you will be so guilt-ridden that your writer's block is guaranteed to go on for at least an extra month. 

     Don't worry. I'm not going to subject you to the standard solutions that you've all probably heard a million times. You know: write something different, stop trying so hard, outline, talk it out with a friend, take a walk, just sit down and write whatever comes to your mind, and blah blah blah. Nope. Not going to tell you these. Now I know you might be thinking: didn't you just tell us? No, I didn't. Honest. It just looks like I did. 

     All right. Here are my new and fresh ideas:

     1.) Go over to Spotify or Apple Music or whatever music subscription you use. Pandora (though I love it) won't work for this one. If you don't have a subscription, get a free trial, just don't forget to discontinue it before it runs out (gets me every darn time). Now do a search for "O Fortuna." Yep, you'll get a crap load of results. At least fifty, I think. Now, you'll have to sift through and figure out which are actual remixes and which are just the same version played by different symphonies. It's cool--it will kill a bunch of time and take your mind off the fact that you're supposed to be writing. Now once you've done that put all the ones that are actual different versions in a play list. And yes--now you are going to listen to them. 

     Yes. Each. And. Every. One. Of. Them. 

     Rate them. And yes--I actually did this. Some of you might remember me tweeting about it. 

     Okay, so I'm only being half-truthful. I made it through about 20 of them, and I only rated them in my head. There's an interesting heavy metal/rap-ish one (though I never really got the whole heavy metal/rap combo thing), and a cool techno version. 

     Pretty soon you may also be able to do this with the Game of Thrones theme song. I don't know what it's called, but I've started to hear lots of different remixes played at hockey games. At first I thought it didn't really go, but then I remembered how violent hockey is. 

     2.) If you have a Wii, make a Mii for each of your characters. Yeah, I know it's cheesy and dorky, but so what? And yes--I've done this. Though not for all my characters. Yet. This is also a good cure for insomnia. 

     

     An alternative to this is going through magazines or random pics on the net and finding ones that best fit your character.

     3.) Go "window shopping" online for your characters' clothes. In my YA novel my characters go to the Homecoming Dance, (because you can't have a YA without Homecoming--unless it's dystopian or AU) so I found pictures of each of their outfits. Yes, I did. I even found suits for the boys. You want to make something of it? It killed so much actual writing time. But when I was done I did lots of writing. I swear. 

     4.) Write a blog post about ridiculous ways to cure writer's block. 

 
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Addition: if you like my style, you should totally check out the Go Fund Me my wonderful friend set up for me, because they love me and know writing is my everything.

https://www.gofundme.com/help-this-amazing-writer?member=51762

     

Genre Classification and the Vomit Scale

     As I mentioned in a previous post "I wrote a novel. Now what?" genre classification is a touchy subject. There are so many sub-genres out there that it is difficult to decide how to categorize a novel. This matters both when submitting a manuscript to an agent or publisher, and when putting a new book up for sale. I think most stories contain elements of several different genres, and which genre the book gets classified as is pretty subjective.
     In my frustration,  I've come up with my own method for classifying genre. I call it the vomit scale. It's really quite simple.


A lot of action + little to no vomiting = Suspense/Thriller

A lot of action + a lot of vomiting = Horror

Vomit that glows green, sprouts tentacles, and can power a spaceship = Science Fiction

Vomit that has magical properties that can bring unicorn figurines to life = Fantasy

Characters bury their vomit in the dirt = Western

Characters vomit on stolen jewels in order to uncover secret codes = Spy Novel

Characters do their best problem solving while vomiting = Mystery

Characters are not vomiting at all, but readers have the strong urge to vomit = Romance

And here is how you tell the difference between young adult fiction and adult fiction:

Young adult: the vomiting is described with extremely vague wording and the readers aren't quite sure if the character has actually thrown up or not.

Adult: The vomiting is right out in the open in glorious detail along with everything else.


So there it is, folks. I hope that helps.

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Addition: I'm ready to take my writing to new levels! My literary mystery, Pieces, is almost ready to be sent to agents. I'm looking forward to some writer's conferences, but need a little financial assistance, so check out the Go Fund Me my friend set up for me. Thanks!
https://www.gofundme.com/help-this-amazing-writer?member=51762