Squash like grape!

It’s the first Wednesday of the month, and that means: Insecure Writer’s Support Group!

This month, my particular insecurity is oddly specific. I’m worried that I’m writing the wrong book.

As you may or may not know, I’ve been working on a sequel. This is fun, terrifying, and, strangely, sloooooow. I’m starting to think that the reason it’s so slow is because I’m not convinced I’m working on the right project.

See, I interrupted a book to work on this project. A shiny book. A book that was starting to really grow on me, but then I realized the better business decision to make, would be to make sure that we have another book in the race. So I set aside the thing that had the momentum and now I’m moving as fast as molasses at Christmas. In fact, it was so slow, that for a while there I wasn’t managing any words at all. But then things got a little better, but still not great.

And all the while, I keep thinking about the book I left behind. Did I ruin it by leaving it? Will the magic still be there when I finally finish this other project? And did I leave behind the magic to write something kind of crummy? Ah the doubts gnaw like remoras.

But, I’ve made a choice and I’ve picked my side of the road. For those of your who maybe didn't grow up watching the Karate Kid, Mr. Myagi famously stated to the MC that he either had to go all in or stay out of Karate all together. If he wobbled in the middle, he'd be squashed like a grape. So I'm all in, and there’s only one way out. I keep trying to remind myself of that saying: If you have to walk through hell, don’t stroll. Back to work for me. 

And don’t forget to visit all the cohosts, C. Lee McKenzie,Rachel Pattison, Elizabeth Seckman, Stephanie Faris, Lori L MacLaughlin, and Elsie Amata, and hop on NinjaCaptain Alex’s Linky and visit some other blogs! 

IWSG: Writing is like Iris hybridizing? But I thought it was like construction??

And here we go, another installment of writer's support group. Say "Hi" to the Ninja Captain and hop on the Linky. Also drop by our co-hosts, Charity Bradford, S.A. Larsen, AJ, Tamara Narayan, Allison Gammons, and Tanya Miranda! This blog hop has gotten huge, and we need all the wrangling we can get.

This week, I’m taking care of my mother’s Iris habit. No, really, we’ve reached addiction level, and to make matters worse, she has started breeding them. Last year, she made somewhere between 500 and 1400 seeds from her various crosses. Of those, some 300 or so sprouted and are currently building up enough gumption to bloom (but probably not until next year).

And out of these hundreds, it’s likely only one or two will ever be taken to an Iris show. Hundreds of possible genetic combinations, and only one or two will get to go to the show to compete against the one or two brought by the other dozen hybridizers in the region. Of those, only a handful will go on to the next level of shows―if you’re into writing and publishing, I bet you know where this is going.

To start with, those seedlings, the original crosses are new genetic material, the likes of which the world has never experienced before. So are the thousands of novels cranked out by writers every year. No one else has a novel like yours. Sure, it has some similarities, but it’s a new creature altogether. And of the books that get published, well, only a few of them will do well in any given year.

As I’ve been watering those hundreds of seedlings (did I mention it was 110 today? I’m wilting just thinking about it), I keep thinking about how much writing is like those Iris. Some of those plants are going to make Iris blooms. Bright lovely blooms that look just like every other Iris introduced twenty years ago. Sure, the flower is pretty enough, but that’s not enough. If it looks just like the other flowers, it’s got nothing.

Almost as bad are the hideously ugly ones. Sure they have the form of an iris, but they come out looking like someone painted a flower using manure. No joke, dog doo brown is a common color in the iris world. But at least there aren’t a million other people introducing a flower called Hero’s Duty (my mom would probably say that’s because everyone else had the sense to throw out the plants that looked like the dog crapped on top of the stem).

But that’s part of the problem, with writing too. Your story might be amazing, but how much room is in the market for a book like yours? Worse, is that book really in the Poo Parade? Our society sort of romanticizes the idea that hard work pays off, but that’s not always the case. Sometimes, you work really hard, you have a great book and a great idea, but all the hybridizers were crossing romance and sci fi this year and your book is suddenly elbow deep in competition.

So am I insecure? You betcha. I’m one of the seedlings yet to make a bloom and come to my fate (my mother has promised me she’ll ruthlessly destroy the unwanted flowers to make room for the ones she likes). And I feel, increasingly like there’s a lot riding on the outcome of this book.

I’m told nerves are part of the game.

Deep breathes.

IWSG: Thin

Welcome back to another stirring edition of me spewing my insecurities to the world. If you don't know what this is all about, be sure to check out Ninja Captain Alex and his co hosts, Eva Solar Melanie Schulz, Lisa-Buie Collard, and Stephen Tremp.

This month is brought to you by the letter T. As in, I've spread myself too thin. 

I know, you're probably thinking that I'm whining. After all, if I love writing so much, why isn't it easy? Why doesn't it recharge me? Why do I talk about spending myself?

Right, well, those are ideals, and sometimes, there's more to it than writing and a full time job. Like writing and a full time job with extra overtime to make the bills. Or writing, job, overtime, and a kid who is absolutely a priority. Or writing job, overtime, helping out the parents, putting hours into things that need to happen for family security (I'm looking at you house hunting), things that need to happen to make houses livable, doing the one thing that is any fun in my life (and fun for others, so I guess I'll be doing that for the foreseeable future, which is great, cause i love it but it takes time), editing a book that has a deadline in a couple weeks, arranging to fly out of state for an event (again, super excited, but super tired already), trying to memorize lines (long story, can't explain now), provide required documents, bolster my "online presence," start thinking about marketing and coming up with a marketing plan, help other people with their marketing so I'll still have friends when it's time for me to share my release and cover reveals, and are you going to enter the writing contest?, you have an article to write for the paper, there's a job you need to apply for, there's a manuscript that needs a decision and an edit, a manuscript that needs to be written, and sweet mother of kittens you signed up for the A TO Z CHALLENGE!!! What, did I take my stupid pills when I agreed to this?

I have, perhaps, taken on more than I can muster. I'm not talking to my friends as much as I used to, and it makes me sad because those are supports I need, but now, I literally don't have time in the day. Like right now, I should be sleeping, but I've used up every other minute I had today, and it's the first wednesday of the month.

With every passing second I feel more and more like Bilbo when he was describing himself as butter spread over too much bread. At this point, I could cut out social media and survive, except, doing that will destroy my marketing, and I have a book out in exactly six months.

So yeah, I'm feeling a little insecure because I've written Laundry Soap on my hand for three days in a row and have yet to manage to pick it up from the store despite walking down that aisle more than once. I'm losing my mind--well, I might have never had it, but I was always very good at faking it. Now, I'm flubbing that up too. I know there isn't a panacea out there, but it feels better to admit that I've taken on more than I can chew. 

And I admit, there may have been a person wiser than I who suggested my planned publishing schedule might be a little rigorous (the quote was "It's your funeral.") so I have no one to blame but myself. 

And I really enjoyed doing the A to Z challenge videos. They shall live in beautiful obscurity on the internets, but I lurved making them. So yeah, I'm tired, but I lived. Now I just have to get to the next one of these posts. See, positive thinking. 

Waiting, Sleeping, and other things I am not good at

This past week, I’ve been in real estate negotiations with the very unenviable position of not having nearly enough money. If you’ve been in my shoes, you know what it’s like to be a bottom feeder. This whole past week has been like the first time I queried. I always have my phone on me, and every time it buzzes, I jump, hoping that it’s the call―dreading that it’s the call.

This high alert status has led my body to kick back into emergency status sleeping routines. In short: I sleep 5 and half hours, then BAM! Awake.

*sigh*

This is nothing new, but I had hoped that at some point in my life I would have figured out how to make the whole sleeping thing work. And most frustrating, my SO sleeps for 10 or 12 hours at a stretch. EERRRG!

On the other hand, I’m always complaining that there aren’t enough hours in the day, so I’m just starting to tack them on at 3 and 4 am. Back to work for me, I guess.

Princesses or Roller Coasters

An opportunity came up. I took it. With less than 48 hours notice, I planned and packed my family up for a trip to Disneyland.

I love the mouse. I'm sorry if you aren't a fan, but it's my jam.

So we're driving over the grape vine, when I notice: hey, my throat is a little sore. Maybe I'm allergic to LA (yakno, with all the smog and stuff). But never you mind, we are on our way to D-land. By five o'clock on the day of Disney, it was clear: I have a cold.

We had a blast. When asked what her favorite part was, my daughter said "Meeting the princesses!" So that was totally worth it. After getting off Big Thunder Roller coaster, she said "Well, if we can't go meet more princesses [fantasyland closes for the fireworks], then we need to get on a roller coaster!"

Yup, that's my daughter, inadvertently summing up my life. So, words of wisdom from a five year old.

And just one picture, because, like I told Marry Poppins as I was taking the picture, I wish I was the one in it!

Practically perfect in every way.

(someday, I'm going to go to Disneyland with my own autograph book and take pictures with all of my favorite princesses)

Sleep is for people without waking dreams...

Today, I’m bushed. I’m so tired, I’ve resorted to coffee (I rarely drink the stuff, it sends my tummy on a tour of the great basin and range province, up down, up down: not pleasant). Of course, like every person who has kids, I’m going to blame the kid. See, she just got her first bed where she can actually get out of it in the middle of the night, and she’s abusing this new privilege and waking me up 5 or 6 times a night. 

For four nights now, I’ve been getting the kind of sleep people in sleep studies are subjected to. Sleep for an hour, then fill out this worksheet based on your feelings. Now we’ll wait for you to actually fall into REM sleep before waking you up to fill it out again and compare the two. 

Yeah, maybe my daughter secretly works for the Sleep Institute. 

Being so tired, I started thinking about whether I should write or not today, you know, because I’m extra dumb with so little sleep. Then I realized just how stupid that sounded. I’m tired, yes. My work will be substandard today, yes (I think maybe even out at three sigma, frankly), but that’s no excuse not to delve into my favorite pastime of all: Creating, and writing specifically. 

The funny thing is that the world is strangely connected (more on the divination powers of blogger in some other post), because I checked Blogger, and got treated to the NSFW post by Chuck about writing (courtesy of The Shark herself). And Chuck made me laugh. It was a post about quitting writing, and at first I thought he’d nail me on the head for even thinking about quitting, or any other number of silly things that I think. Nope, the more I read his post, the more I was completely galvanized to go write more. Check it out. 

Now, back to work, because posting is just a form of productive seeming procrastination. 

(coffeeeeee, cOOffeeeee)