Not Giving Up... But Conceding

A couple of weeks ago, I made a decision.  With the economy the way it is, and every dollar stretched to its limits but still barely stretching far enough to meet needs, I applied for a job.  Gal's gotta do what a gal's gotta do, right?

What does this mean for my goal of writing and publishing?  What does this mean for you as the reader?  It means I will have to find time after work and on the weekends to still get stories written and out there into the world.  

I'm not quitting.  I refuse to either give up or give in.  I'm merely conceding that writing is not bringing in enough money to keep this ship afloat.  Frankly, it never has, but the amounts I made helped.  In a better economy, the help I got from book sales was enough.  It just isn't anymore.  

This has been coming for a while.  Well, pretty much since 2020, but I was mulish.  

I got lucky.  A job opened up that is about a five minute drive from here.  I applied on the 10th, interviewed on the 17th, and started on the 22nd.  I'll get my first paycheck in July and the weight of cashflow will lift from my weary shoulders.  

And I'm glad to do it.  I've only worked three days, but I already love my job.  It's good to get out there and be productive.  

They've had a devil of a time finding employees who 1) want to work and 2) are stable, drug-free, drama-free, non-criminal, and sane.  That's me in a nutshell.  Tada.  I'm set to work 40 hours a week.  I'd work 50 if they let me.  I've never been afraid of work.  Depression makes me lazy sometimes and I tend to lack gumption at home, but in a work environment, I'm the little engine that could.  

Maybe if I could've put that engine to work with the writing, I would've done better.  But that's neither here nor there.  I busted my ass that first year of publishing and got crickets.  I know writers who bust their asses day in and day out, and still aren't making enough to get by.  So, kicking myself about my writing isn't going to help.  

Anyway, I guess what I'm saying is I'm still here.  I'm still writing.  As I get things done, I'll get things published.  It'll just be a slow road.  To those readers who were hoping for new books soon, I apologize.  I just hope that by the time I get books done, there will still be people interested in them.  If not, I'll still be a writer.  And also an office assistant.  

How has this economy effected you?  

Why Bother?

As I was laying in bed last night, trying to fall asleep and failing miserably, a thought occurred to me.  Why do I bother?

I'm in the middle of final edits for Unequal, you see, and I always reach a point where I am sick to death of scrubbing a manuscript and wonder why I bother to do all this work.  It's not like everyone else is bothering.  There are writers who are selling more books than I am who obviously didn't work as hard as I do cleaning up my manuscripts.  (Not all of them, lest ye think I am trashing people who don't deserve it.  I'd venture a greater percentage of authors bust their asses than don't.)  And I wondered if maybe I could get away with doing less, too.

Then I remembered something from my past...

Back in college, I was in the work-study program.  I got a placement in the library - my dream job - but it was in the Governmental Documents Department.  It was just me and this other gal, so we had a lot of work to do between us.  (We never got a lot of patrons to help, but the GPO puts out a LOT of documents that need shelving, etc.)  But we did it and we had fun with it.  There were busy times and slow times, like any other job, but we stayed on top of it all.  The only problem was she was a graduating senior.  The next year, it was me and this new gal.  I was still busting my hump, but she couldn't be bothered.  So, basically it was me doing everything the two of us did the year before.  I tried talking to her.  Nope.  I tried talking to the supervisor.  Nothing.  And then I began to wonder why I was working my ass off to make the same pay as the chick who did nothing.  And I thought, well, maybe I could do nothing, too.  But I couldn't.  It wasn't in me. 

That wasn't the first time in my life I ran across something like that.  It wasn't the last either.  When things need doing, I do them - whether others around me are inclined to put in the same effort or not.  The amount of effort others put in should have no bearing on how much effort I put it.  And it doesn't.

So, despite my 'why bother' thoughts, I will continue to bust through this edit.  And I'll make it the best book I can.  I have 40 pages left and then the last bits and pieces, then the formatting.  I can do it.  I will do it.  Might be a crispy writer by the time I'm done, but I'll have the rest of the year to recover. 

Ever been in a similar position - where you were working hard but your co-workers weren't?  What did you do about it?  In the case of the library, I eventually quit and moved on to another job where I wouldn't be carrying the full load and getting super frustrated all day.

Books in the Trunk

I keep a box in the trunk of my car filled with paperback copies of my books.  It's there in case I run across anyone who actually wants to buy a hardcopy of one.  To be honest, it's been a long, long time since I hand sold a book, though. 

Every once in a while, when I'm pushing the box aside for groceries, I tell myself I really should get that out of there.  It's just taking up space and every time I see it, it reminds me that my paperbacks aren't selling.  (Of course, I'm not really doing anything to sell them, so that's on me.  And a story for another time.)

But it's still there.  And Friday I was reminded why I need to always keep it there.

Hubs and I went to town Friday.  He needed a haircut and while he certainly could've gone alone, he asked me to come along for the drive.  It was a beautiful day, so why not?  Anyway, I dropped him off at the barber and went across the street to buy cigarettes. 

I've been patronizing this smoke shop slash liquor store slash bait & tackle place for about 4 years and I like to chat with the employees.  They're great gals (and just recently guys).  And most of them are readers.  The one who was working yesterday is always cheerful and nice.  We've talked about her and her family.  She's a hard working gal who busts her butt. 

So, anyway, I was there talking to her and she asked me how the writing was going.  (Not a question I get too often out there in the world.)  I told her and then gave her a new bookmark and a new postcard.  She was really excited for me, which kind of made my day.  And I told her all of the ebooks are available for $2.99.  Then she confessed that she prefers to read hardcopy. 

Totally cool, but I could tell she wasn't going to go online and order my paperbacks, and that she was disappointed about that.  I mean, I keep my paperbacks as inexpensive as I can, but they're still way more than $2.99. 

Another customer was waiting, so we said our goodbyes and I went out to put the cigarettes in the car.  And there in the trunk was that box, filled with books that haven't been going anywhere.  I grabbed a copy of Wish in One Hand, whipped out a pen and signed it, then took it back inside.  When I handed it to her, she lit up.  And then she opened the front and saw the signature and squeed. 

I made her day.  And she made mine.

So, the box will remain in the trunk and I will add more books to it.  Just in case.  You never know.  And hey, she might buy the others now, or she might opt for the ebooks (she does have a Kindle), and she might tell other people about them.  But if she doesn't that's okay, too.  Because she already made my day.

One more thing.  I had been debating on whether to continue to produce paperback copies of my books.  I was leaning away from future books having hardcopy versions.  Now I'm leaning back.  If I don't have the paperbacks, how can I hand one out?  They're an added expense to my publishing budget, but they really are worth it.

What about you?  Do you prefer ebooks or paperbacks?  If you're a writer, do you keep copies of your books in the trunk of your car?

Being a Hermit and a Writer

I may have explained before that I am, for the most part, a hermit.  Not literally, of course.  I mean, I don't live in a cave or anything, and I do occasionally have contact with the outside world.  I have to shop and stuff, so there's a bit of social interaction there.  And I socialize on the internet.  And there's Hubs.

But yeah, other than that, I'm a hermit.  And with the world the way it is, my hermitude is getting worse.

That's neither here nor there, though.  What I want to talk about today is how being a hermit clashes with being a self-published writer. 

Two and a half years ago when I started the self-publishing thing, I was faced with some crucial decisions about how to proceed with the marketing portion of the business.  I was encouraged to attend conferences and book signings and stuff.  :shudder:  The thought of being in crowds makes me want to crawl into a hole and pull the rocks down over myself.  I did do some face-to-face, one-on-one stuff.  I went to the local libraries and introduced myself and donated books.  I went around to the places where I was known and told the people I knew about my book. 

Since then, the people I knew at the libraries have left and everyone I know already knows about my books.  :shrug:  And I can't make myself start the process all over again.  Get out in the world and meet more new people?  :shudder:

I've pulled back on my internet stuff, too.  I mean, I was already shrinking away because socializing is exhausting, but last year's election hoopdedoo helped shove me further back into my figurative cave.  For a while there, it seemed like I was unfriending people on a daily basis.  I ran away from Twitter because I couldn't scan through the feed without wanting to hurl. 

And I'm pretty sure my sales have suffered as a result.  Being a hermit and a writer is not a path I recommend for anyone who really wants to succeed at this self-publishing thing.  (For varying definitions of 'success'.)  However, I can't make myself step up to the social things I would need to do to whip up more sales.  I guess when it comes down to it, I value my hermitage more than sales. 

So, as my profile on FB says, 'Here I sit, hermit-like, in my cabin in the woods banging away at the keyboard and creating worlds.'  Feel free to grab a cup of coffee and join me.  Online.  From your own hermit-holes.  ;o)

That's Done, What's Next?

This was supposed to post yesterday, but I must've hit 'save' instead of 'publish' or some such thing. And here I was wondering why I wasn't seeing any comments.  Derp. 

Without further ado...

Hi All!

Last night (night before last now), I finished the second round of edits and sent Natural Causes off to the most awesome Janet the Editor.  Fingers crossed she likes this as much as she liked Accidental Death, and that it's as scrubbed as I think it is.  If all goes well, I'm shooting for an early April release.


Which means I need to get the back cover copy done and, of course, create a cover.

But I have two months to do those things, soooo...

What's next?

I have Early Grave (SCIU #3) I could work on.  OR I could get back to working on Wish Hits the Fan (Once Upon a Djinn #3).  ORRR I could pick up something completely different.  Like getting back to making Fear Itself a publishable thing, or going back to that dark urban fantasy thing I started, or that fun urban fantasy thing, or that fun mystery thing...

Decisions, decisions.

Most likely it'll be either serial crimes or the genies.  Depends on what grabs me when I get ready to sit down again.  Which probably won't be today.  I am a crispy writer after the marathon editing thing over the past few days. 

Jury Duty

If you're reading this, I am at jury duty today.  I had to call last night and find out if it was still on.

I got a call yesterday afternoon telling me that jury duty had been cancelled.  One of the perks of living in the back of beyond is that they call you, I guess.  Works for me.  Anyway, here's the post I wrote in the event I did have jury duty...

In MO, you get a notice that you're in the jury pool from x-month to y-month, and as trials come up, they pull from that pool.  I was in the pool from July 18th to November 20th this time, and sure enough, I got pulled for November 16th.  Four more days and I would've been home free.  Dang it.

Oh, I'm not that cheesed off about it.  I look forward to doing my part in the judicial process.  I don't look forward to the hilly drive up to the county seat first thing in the morning during Deer Hunting Season.  Fingers crossed that all the deer stay off the road for my trips there and back.

I'm also not looking forward to be jammed into a space with however many people until they get us all down to the final 12.  I have visions of being crammed between a redneck and a socialite.  Nightmares, really.

:shrug:  We'll see how it goes.

I know there were two murders in the area last year.  One of them was pleaded out a couple weeks go, so I could be on the jury for the other one (if the timing is the same for those things).  Most likely, it'll be a meth bust or some domestic thing.

Anyway, if I do sit a jury, I'll do as much of a write up on it as I can once I'm allowed to do so. (And I would've.  Seriously.)

Have you ever been on a jury?  How'd that go for you?

(Oh, and if I am sitting a jury, comments won't appear here until I get home at night.  Comment away and I'll get to them as soon as I can.)

Writing to 'Expec'.

You know, I really admire people who can write to spec.  (i.e. Writing to a publisher's specifications.)  They sign a contract and then write what they've promised to write.  I couldn't do it.  I can't even write when I think the readers are expecting certain things from me.  Or, rather, I can write, but it turns out crap and then I hate myself. 

I've known this 'can't write to spec' thing for years, but I didn't really think about it because I didn't have anyone expecting anything of me.  I learned it when I tried to write my second book keeping everyone else's writing advice in mind.  OMG, that was a horrible experience.  I mean, I fixed it for the most part when I stopped writing to expectations and started writing how I write again.  It ended up being a much better book and the crappy parts got fixed during editing.  (Still not ready to rework that one so it'll be publishable, though.) 

Problem is, I forgot.  Here I was, happily zooming along publishing books I'd written while I was still sans expectations.  Then I needed to write more books and everything I was writing turned into big piles of stinking manure.  Which made me hate myself.  And my writing. 

So I stopped.

I stopped writing, that is.  I didn't stop worrying about what other people were expecting.  In fact, the more I didn't write, the worse it got.  I made promises and I was breaking them all.  I had an editor who was expecting to edit another book this year.  I had a cover artist who was expecting to design another cover this year.  I had readers who were expecting more books... 

Arrggh.  Just typing that gave me the sweats.

Anyway, I stopped.  But this time I stopped worrying about writing to what I perceive are the expectations of others - writing to expec, so to speak.  Part of doing that meant I needed to stop talking about what I was writing, so no one would have an expectations and then I wouldn't have to live up to them. 

And I started.

I started writing again.  Right now, only one person knows what I'm writing and I told her last night.  Even Hubs doesn't know because I don't want to disappoint him if this all turns to crap again. He just knows I'm writing again and he's happy for me.

So, the plan for now is to just write.  Write this book.  Write the next book.  And the next.  Edit and publish them as I find the funds to do so.  I'm hoping next year will be a good 3-4 book year, but we'll see.

Meanwhile, I hope you readers stick around.  I know in this business you're only as memorable as your last book and the time between books makes readers forgetful.  I can't help that right now.  I can only do what I do, and hope it all works out. 

What about you?  Do expectations freak you out, or are you totally up to that challenge?

Where the Magic Occurs

So, I was sitting around Saturday morning looking at stuff and junk, when I realized that I didn't like my Twitter header anymore.  Which led to the bright idea to take a picture of my actual workspace.  Which led to this post. 

This is where I work - exactly as it is.  No retouching.  No cleaning.  Just my spot.  As is.  Kinda like me.  ;o)

So, there I am - laid out in workspace style.  You see my coffee mug.  You see my pack of smokes and my ashtray.  You see the myriad of writing utensils - one cup for pens and pencils, one for markers, and the last for highlighters.  Two calendars - the plain one on the wall for keeping track of things and my bird of the day calendar in the corner. (Today's bird is the White Tern.) There's also a photo of my mom and dad.  The remote goes to my little stereo, but I rarely listen to that. If you look closely, you'll find my headphones hanging from the drawer knob. Better to listen to tunes without disturbing the Hubs. The two books under my monitor are old Funk & Wagnalls dictionaries (A-L and M-Z).  The corner of the frame you can see in the upper right is a copy of The Declaration of Independence. 

For the record, those drapes are never opened.  And the window behind them leads to another room.  (I didn't design this place, so no clue why there's a window looking out on the sun room, but no windows looking outside.) 

Looking at this closely, you can also tell I need to dust.  Yikes, my keyboard.  Don't let the dust fool you.  If you could zoom in, you'd see there's no dust on the keys I actually use.  In fact, there are hardly any letters left on the keys I use most frequently.  Again.  I can't keep keyboard letters intact for more than a few months.

So, anyway, there I am.  Pretty much everything you need to know about me can be found in that picture.  (Okay, so you can't tell what's on the monitor.  It's a manuscript.  Naturally.)  All it needs is food and a little sculpture of a fish.

If you designed a workspace* that told your story, what would be on your desk?

*I didn't design it that way.  It just ended up being that way.

Doing the Business Stuff

Well, it's February first and that means tax time is right around the corner which has me thinking about the business side of this endeavor.  And believe me, I try very hard not to think about that side - as evidence by the number of things my inbox holds that are waiting for me to attend to them.  (I leave it in the inbox until it's tended to, so I don't forget.  Which makes me aware of my laziness on a daily basis. Umm...)

Now I know why some authors hire assistants.  ;o)

I have to look at my PayPal statement to make sure that balances. I have to check FB invoices and make sure they match the amounts withdrawn from my bank account.  I have to verify my Draft2Digital statement to see if it matches what I have in my spreadsheet.  Amazon's payments should've hit my account this weekend, so I have to check that and verify whether everything jibes.  Then I have to start my taxes...

Ugh.

Crammed into a padded envelope tucked into the shelf beside me are all the receipts I collected for 2015.  Those have to be sorted through and entered into a spreadsheet so I know what goes into which box on the tax forms.

It's not really a big deal.  It's just that if I didn't kvetch about it, I wouldn't have anything to talk about.  And what would be the fun in that?  ;o)

Writing itself is an entirely creative endeavor.  But this isn't pure writing.  This is a business.  As such, I have business stuff to do to make sure this machine continues to run.  So I can continue to write and be creative. 

None of it should take too awfully long - except the taxes.  And I'll feel better after I get it done. 

Tomorrow.

Maybe the next day. 

Right now, I need more coffee, then I'll call my mom.  Then I'll exercise.  Then... 

What kinds of things are you putting off today?

I Swear

Yep.  I swear.  I curse like a sailor some days.  Depends on how pissed off I am or how relaxed I'm feeling.  And I don't think about it when I do it.

Some people curse for effect.  You can tell.  They swear and then glance around to see who might be listening and reacting.  Usually this is reserved for young people - testing out their naughty-wings.  You can also tell when a writer is trying to naughty up their manuscript.  The curse words are scattered like feed for the chickens.  It doesn't fit and it doesn't flow.

Some people only curse under extreme duress.  Whack your thumb with a hammer and !@#$%!  Get pushed beyond your threshold and the words come tumbling out: "OMbleepingG, you bleepity-bleep-bleep, you almost bleeping killed me!"

Some people curse because the words are just part of their lexicon.  I suspect this is where I fall.  I grew up around swear words being dropped in normal conversation.  It was 100% Dad.  (Mom didn't curse and still doesn't for the most part.)  And Dad's friends cursed.  There was one friend of the family who would make your ears turn blue.  He was just a colorful old guy, and the nicest man ever, and I loved him dearly - but man, could he swear.  We just knew to never repeat his words - at least not where any adult could hear us.  And we learned they were just part of life.

Recently, I posted a review to Goodreads and to Amazon.  Goodreads let it go through.  Amazon kicked it back because it was outside their guidelines.  Color me confused.  I went back and read the review, and sure enough, I'd dropped 'asshole' in the review without even realizing it.  "The villain was just the right amount of asshole."  I changed it to 'just the right amount of evil', but it's not the same.  This dude was more asshole than evil, if you know what I mean.  Hannibal Lecter = evil.  This dude was no Lecter.

Anyway, over the years, I've stumbled across people who are shocked and dismayed by my colorful language.  Mom, for one.  I try not to swear around her and when I can't help it, I apologize.  But it makes me wonder.  They're words - like any other - with no power of their own.  If a used a different word - a more socially acceptable word - but meant the same thing, how is that really different?  :shrug:

When I was in college, we used a campus wide chat system on the mainframe (yes, ancient chatting did exist in 1989.)  We were forbidden from using cursewords on the chat, and could lose our chat privileges if we were sussed out.  Since none of us wanted to lose chat (although looking back at my grades, I would've been better off), we devised a lexicon of our own.  Farging iceholes that we were.

Of course, there are different rules for different people.  Some people won't accept any of the big 7 (if you aren't familiar, George Carlin came up with The Seven Words You Can't Say on Television - and no, that link is NOT safe for sensitive ears, work, or Sunday dinner).  None of the big 7, plus no darn, dang, fart, etc.  Some people can't refer to their deity of choice by name, and others can, but only if it's not in a bad way.

I'm pretty liberal when it comes to words.  About the only one I won't say and cringe when I hear is the C word.  I don't know why, but that word has always bothered me.

I do try to be sensitive to other people out there in the world.  I cut back on the number of f-bombs in my books before they went to publication.  Seriously.  I did.  I can't cut them all out, or it wouldn't be natural to the characters.

What do you think? To swear or not to swear?