Is It Lame?

Welcome to Wednesday, where today's topic is:  Is it lame?  Who the hell cares?  Or how to write a dirty first draft and get the damn book done.

Probably the biggest roadblock to getting words out for me is worrying whether the words I'm typing are lame... stupid... WRONG...  Well, ya know what?  Who the hell cares?  It's a first draft, for pitysakes.  The words don't have to be awesome.  Hell, they don't even have to be good.  They just have to be words.  Sure, they have to make some kind of sense, but the point here is...

EVERYTHING CAN BE FIXED IN EDITS... 

Except a blank page.  If there are no words to fix, then... well, duh... you can't fix them.  The point of every first draft is to get the damn thing written.  

Did you just write a sentence that would make even the kindest reader want to throw the book at the wall?  No problem.  No reader is going to see it yet.  

Do your characters sound wooden?  Easy peasy.  Fix it later.  

Did you use... :gasp: the wrong word?  Have typos?  Misspell something?  Forget a comma?  Use too many commas?  All of that can be fixed with your handy dandy EDIT ROUNDS.  

No matter what you've written that you think sucks, it can be fixed.  The only thing that can't be fixed is...  Well, actually there is a fix for a blank page.  It's... wait for it...

WRITING!

Set your big ass, your narrow ass, your flat ass, or your bubble butt down.  Hell, I didn't used to have a butt at all, and I could've slapped that down, too.  Now put your fingers on the keys (or your lips to the microphone, for those using a speech to text program) and write the damn story.  

So what if it's lame?  So what if you don't think anyone will ever like it?  So what if you don't like it right now?  It's your story.  Write it.  Then fix it so you do love it.  (Psst... there's not much you can do to insure anyone else likes it, but they sure as hell won't like it if you don't write it.  Eh?)

And yes, when I wrote this last night, I was thinking that what I am writing is LAME.  Ultra-lame.  Lamey McLamerson from Lameville, Lame-abama.  So what?  My ass was in the chair and I got to work writing.  It'll get unlame later.  And I'll come back to fix this lame part when I finish.  

Now, get out there and slap down some new words!  Go, go, go, go!

Update: After I wrote this and scheduled it, I laid down more words and ended up with a total of 1561 mostly unlame words.  See? You've gotta push past the lame to get to the good.

The Fun of Being an Author

There are sites where it is, apparently, great fun to publicly poke fun at the covers of books.  I landed on one once with the original cover for Wish In One Hand.  It was humiliating.  Especially considering I'd paid a supposed artist a heaping helping of money to create that cover.  It wasn't what I wanted, but I allowed myself to be bullied into accepting it.  I was backed into a corner, with my release date fast approaching, so I went forth with a cover I was not proud of.  

If you saw it, I apologize.  Once I finished licking my wounds and refilling my coffers, I paid another artist to create the covers you see now for it and it's sequels.  

I create my own covers for the non-fantastic books I write.  They're not bad.  Okay, maybe a couple.  Oddly enough, Accidental Death is the first cover people point to off my bookmarks and say that's the one they're interested in reading.  Doesn't sell well online, but in person, it's da bomb.  It's sequel is also not a great cover.  :shrug:  Maybe someday I'll do new covers for them now that I'm better at it.

Of course, now, I have a fantasy novel in the works.  And I'm trying to do the cover myself.  I made a dragon.  She's pretty cool and I'm proud of the effort.  Unfortunately, every time I try to incorporate her into a cover, she looks like a bad photoshop job.  

I worked on it for about 2 hours last night, so maybe it was staring at it for all that time that finally made me throw my hands up.  I'll try again today.

Oh, I could probably find a cover artist for this.  My other artist, the one I like, is super busy and fantasy ain't her bag anyway.  There are others.  But 1) I'm gun-shy after my encounter with the dude who shall remain nameless (mainly because I'm repressing that and because I do not wish to get sued at this late date). And 2) I want to do this for myself.  

But yeah, the fear is there that I'll end up on another one of those sites that pan bad book covers.  That can't be good for sales.  Nothing like being the target of ridicule.  Woohoo.

Of course, I've also been working on titles.  I'm leaning toward Shroudlands: The Battle for Kingshead, but again, I spent so much time looking at that in various fonts that I now kind of hate it.  Or maybe I just need to rename the city.  Or maybe I should've just spent last night reading a book.

It's so much fun being an author.  Derp.

Title Troubles

I believe one of you asked the other day whether I was any closer to coming up with a title for Untitled Fantasy.  Ummm... no.  

Titles are HARD.  

Okay, so maybe they're not always hard.  Sometimes the title pops right into my head.  Poof.  Most of the time, I at least have a working title.  This time?  Not a ding-dang thing is popping anywhere.

You see, I want a grabby title.  I want one that jumps up and says 'READ ME!'  I want readers to see it and say 'Wow, I have to buy that'.  

I also want one that gives some hint of the story.  Like Dying Embers... people are dying in fire.  Umm, yeah.  Or even an old switcheroo kind of thing, like with Accidental Death?  People are dying and it looks like accidents, but it isn't.  

With Wish in One Hand, it started out as Djinnocide.  That title didn't seem to be sparking any interest with agents and I was really wishing it would, but then I remembered something my dad used to say about wishing and the new title was born.  

Additionally, the title of this book has to say FANTASY without riffing off or ripping off any other fantasy series.  Unfortunately, the damn Dragonlance books have a twin thing going on in there.  Totally different take than I have, but the title Time of the Twins was taken.  (And, I just saw when searching, also stolen used by celebrity-type people for their own ghostwritten fantasy thing. Feh.)

I'm hoping for this to be a series.  That has a title, I think... Shroudlands.  And a just-now search of that shows it's been used.  Derp.  Warhammer.  And D&D.  Sometimes, you can't help but be similarly named.  Ideas abound and they aren't copyright-able, not there's wiggle room there.  

I'm already going to get slapped around for Sanderson, seeing as there's already a popular fantasy author with that last name.  (Might publish as my maiden name.  Still thinking about that.)

Anyway, the quick answer about titles is 'I don't have one'.  I wish I could send this off to a publisher and let them come up with a title.  But you know what Dad said about wishing.  ;o)

The Best Laid Plans of Mousy Writers

Well, it's officially been more than two months since I sold a book and nearly two months since anyone read any of my books in the KU program.  (Not counting the 30-something pages someone read last week because it wasn't a whole book.) 

True, I haven't really done much to sell books.  And lord knows, I haven't been writing any books.  I did release a book in May, hence the sales two months ago.  (I didn't sell anything in April.)  I sold two copies of that book.  One of which was to myself.  Someone read the book in KU.  I marketed that book a little to the sound of crickets.  Book Two in a three book series when the third book hasn't been written yet is always a dud sale.

I'm not whining.  I'm just stating facts.  It is what it is. 

I'd blame the virus, but bhis was not looking like a banner year for sales even before the 'rona arrived.  Last year, I released zero books, and while I did do a lot of marketing last year, I cleared very little above what I paid for advertising.  I have, perhaps, reached saturation with the current buying pool for newsletters I put ads in with the books I already have published. 

Oh, I had plans to make this year better.  If I had stuck to my goals, I would already have two books published and be well on my way to completing another book.  If I hadn't been derailed, I might've been marketing.  Like I said, I got one book finished earlier in the year and published in early May - thanks to my friends who helped there and to those who bought and/or reviewed. 

Right now, I can't seem to muster the will to do anything toward my publishing goals.  Looking ahead, things don't seem in a position to improve.  I keep telling myself this has to get better, but without anything to back that up, I'm just blowing smoke up my own ass.  I have to work to make it better and I'm just not in the mindset to do the work. 

Whatever's happening in the world, that's on me.

I'm Trying

I've been trying to work, really I have.  I sat down yesterday and opened Cinder Ugly.  I ended up editing a little bit of it and then staring at the screen, wondering where the hell the story was going now.  Something I've been wondering since the last spurt of ideas ran out over a month ago.

When I didn't make any progress with CU, I opened that new thing I started last week.  I ended up editing a little bit of it and then staring at the screen, trying to rebuild some ideas I'd had while I was falling asleep the night before. Unfortunately, everything I thought of was lost.  (Yes, I know.  I should've gotten up and written it down, but I was so tired all I wanted was a little sleep.)

Since I couldn't make anything work here at the computer, I got up and went to my recliner.  There I took up my notebook and red pen.  Usually, I can get things flowing by asking myself some simple questions on paper.  Nope.  Not a damn thing flowed.  Not even a little spritz of inspiration.  Not a droplet of insight. 

Dry.

I thought about making a pot of coffee last night and forcing myself to write after Hubs went to bed.  Then it occurred to me that oftentimes Owl will use the office for her gaming after we've gone to bed.  (Her room is next to our room, so she moves out of there to lessen the noise drifting through our shared wall.)  Forcing oneself to create worlds is impossible while someone is gleefully (and noisily) killing things with her friends behind you. 

Excuses, excuses.  I will find a way around all this. 

When I think of all the plans I had for this year and how they've all pretty-much been dashed on the rocks of the Kung Flu, it pisses me off.  Maybe getting good and mad will help the words flow.  Can't be any worse than where I am now, eh?

Writing Was Easier Before

I made a comment on a friend's blog the other day - Writing was so much easier before I started worrying about publishing. 

And the more I thought about it, the truer it seemed.  Before I started publishing, I just wrote.  I mean, publishing was always the end goal, but there was so much between writing and publishing - landing an agent, finding a publisher, editing, hoop jumping, etc. - that I never really let the idea of publication get in my way.  It would either happen or it wouldn't.

Now?  It feels like I have to worry whether every word I write is publishable.  If this is something anyone will want to buy.  If I'm going to hit the market with the right thing at the right time.  And then, I have to think about getting on my editor's schedule and whether I can pay her.  And I have to think about whether my artist will have room for me in her schedule and paying her.  (Last I knew, she was booking cover art for the middle of next year.)   Formatting.  Marketing.  Reviews.  Business stuff instead of creative stuff.

The stuffs are all very heavy.  And I feel like the weight of it all might've crushed me flat.  Flat words, flat prose, flat descriptions... flat books filled with flat stories.

The other day I might've mentioned I was working on a short story.  Kind of a Christmas thing set in the genie world.  Oh, it's a great idea and I was tapping out words again.  Then it occurred to me that even if I get this finished, I would still need a cover, and like I said, my cover artist for that series is booking for next year.  And the word tapping died.  Literally just withered up and died.  The ideas are still there, but the will to write them dried up.

I used to write scads of words.  On a good day, I am capable of cranking out like 1500 words an hour.  This year?  Even the crickets don't want to talk to me. 

So, there's NaNo, or some form of it, fast approaching.  It would be good for me.  To just write with wild abandon like I used to.  Write without worrying whether any of it will be publishable.  Write without caring whether anyone will buy it or read it, love it or hate it.  Write without thinking whether the book will be in one of my current series.  Without having to think whether the characters are behaving the way they've always behaved in earlier books.  No researching.  No flipping back through series bibles to maintain continuity.  Just words on paper building a totally new story.

I'm still not sure whether I'm going to do it, but it's getting more attractive by the day.  It's like the idea of jumping on the back of a fast horse and just letting her run to wherever she wants to go - no saddle, no reins.  Clutching her mane and squealing in delight (or sheer terror) as she flies over the ground.

Now, I just have to keep myself from thinking about it too much or worrying about it at all.  If I'm going to do it, I need to wipe my brain clear of all the publishing stuff and just write.

Won't that be grand?

Why Am I Still Doing This?

There comes a point in every writer's journey where they have to ask themselves the question 'Why am I still doing this?'

It may simply be a lull in their writing gumption.  If it's early enough in their career, it could be because they've been ground up and spit out by the query machine.  Later, it may be due to a lack of sales.  Or anywhere along the journey, it could be caused by life harshing all over the place. 

Usually, it's a fleeting feeling and soon passes.  They ask themselves the question and, whatever the answer, they get over it and move on.  Sometimes it takes months to get over.  Occasionally, the feeling sticks and the answer is that the writer stops writing altogether.

I've seen it happen.  I've seen perfectly good writers get chewed up so bad they quit and their awesome words never grace a page again.  =o(

Over the past 15 years, I've asked myself the question on numerous occasions.  (Okay, maybe I wasn't asking the question too much there during the writing of my first book, but definitely by fall of 2004 when the rejections started rolling in, I was asking myself the question on a regular basis.)   And while I'm still not quite sure of the answer of why I'm still doing this, I get over it and move on.  Time and time again.

Which leads me to ask the question 'Why am I still doing this?' where 'this' refers not to writing but to continuing to ask myself the damn question.  And brings up the big question in the back of my mind 'why haven't I quit yet?'

I mean, how long can one shoot oneself in the forehead with a BB gun?  I guess if you do it long enough, the pain stops registering.  Because after 15 years, I'm still writing.  And after 4 years and 13 books worth of self-publishing with nothing much to show for it, I haven't given up on it. 

I think the actual answer to all such questions is that I'm stubborn*. 

It would be so much easier to lay down my pen and say I've had enough.  And maybe that's what this drought has been all about.  Taking a break and trying to rejuvenate so I don't get to the point where I lay it all down for good and get a job selling feed to the local ranchers.

But if that's what this is, then I should probably, at some point in the near future, get off my dead ass and write.  And if not, then maybe I should have that conversation with myself and decide once and for all if this is going to continue. 

Or if I'm going to have to get used to saying 'You want whole corn or corn chops?'


*Which brings to mind a quite from the animated movie The Thief and the Cobbler** - "Never say die, but very frequently say 'ouch'."
** If you haven't seen this, it's a hoot.

I Also Write Books

Monday I was checking out at the Wallyworld and chatting with the cashier as I often do, when she says something to the effect of 'that's exactly how I dress on my day off'. 

First off, let's be clear.  I wear sweatpants to the Wallyworld.  I wear sweatpants everywhere for the most part.  Unless it's summer, then I'm wearing shorts.  It's this writer's standard uniform.  I'm all about comfort, baby. 

But this isn't a post about the uniform...

I told the woman it wasn't my day off and that I work from home.  And that, in fact, I had work to do as soon as I got home.  When she asked what I did, I told her...

spreadsheets.

And then as an afterthought, I told her I also write books.

She got a little excited then, so I rummaged in my purse for a bookmark to hand her.  Did the softshoe over the genres I write and encouraged her to check out my work.  On the drive home, I thought about all the things I could've told her about my books and my writing.  Sure, I didn't have much time because by then she was done ringing up my stuff and someone was behind me in line.  But I could've done more.

And then my brain went to the fact that when asked what I do for a living, my first answer was spreadsheets.  Yeah, well, spreadsheets does pay better.  And right now, I'm devoting more time to working spreadsheets than I am to working on anything even remotely writerly.

In fact, I spend more time whining about not writing than anything remotely writerly.  Gotta be loads of fun for my readers.  Sorry about that, folks.  But it is what it is.  Right now, I do spreadsheets.  And I also write books. 

Or I wrote books.  And I will again, if I ever manage to pull my head out of my as... armpit.

I Don't Wanna!

I don't wanna market anymore.  I swear to god, if I have to do one more post about this sale... or any sale, for that matter... I'm gonna scream.  And maybe roll around on the floor, holding my breath.

Umm, yeah.

Marketing is a pain in the ass.  But here's the deal...

If I don't market, I don't sell books.  I may only sell one or two books from my own efforts, but it's one or two I didn't sell before I carpet bombed FB with my marketing posts.  Is that effective use of my time?  Oh, hell, no.  At that rate, I make about $4 an hour.  But the alternative is making $0.  Zero bucks for zero effort.  Fair, but it ain't gonna put moolah in the bank account.

I make more money from advertising, which is minimal effort on my part with better gains, but in order to do that, I have to have the money to spent the money to make the money... Ugh, that gives me a headache.

So, what do you do when you're pretty much broke and still want to market?  You suck it up and do what you don't wanna do. 

Doesn't mean I have to like it.  Doesn't mean I won't whine about it.  But on this last day of my sale, I have to suck it up and post those posts and see if I can't generate some sales.  Five groups down, eight more to go. Then the marketing will be done for this sale.  (Because I can only post once per day per group.)

And it does work.  Maybe not gangbusters - like I said only one or two sales extra - but a trickle is better than crickets. 

So, I'll gird my loins and finish out the marketing extravaganza this morning.  Then I'll start thinking about next month's marketing blitz.  Gah.  I wish I could just pay someone to do this for me.  But that would defeat the purpose.  And you know what they say about wishing... Heh.  Wish in one hand...

Speaking of which, the wish books will be next on the marketing go-'round.  (Had to throw that last marketing thing in there.  Can't help myself.)

And now that I've given myself this little pep-talk (mental kick in the pants), I should probably quit stalling and get back at it.

Have a great day!

I Don't Have It

I don't have what it takes.  There, I said it. 

When we're watching sports, Hubs often says 'okay, let's see who wants to win', meaning who's hungry enough to get the job done and win the event. 

I am not hungry enough. 

I've read the books about how to be successful at this.  I've read blog posts on what successful authors are doing.  I know what it is I'm supposed to do.

If I were hungry enough, I would do whatever it took* to generate book sales.  If I had what it took, I would be here at my computer more often and for longer periods of time, writing and editing and marketing - until book sales were streaming in.

I'd join groups and be active in them.  I'd get a membership to RWA or ITW, and be active in those.  I'd get social.  I'd do things in person - like attending conferences and holding book signings.  I'd get out there in the world.

I'd be active on forums.  Not just pimping my books there - which would make me irritating as all get out - but getting to know the people on them and letting them get to know me.  Offering advice and accepting it.  Being funny.  Being friendly. 

There are so many other things I could be doing to be successful, and I know what they are, but I am not doing them.  This is not the behavior of someone who has what it takes.

I sit and think about the things I could be doing, should be doing, but that's about as far as it gets.  So, I guess I should quit my bitching.  If I was really committed to this, I'd do more to make it happen. 

Oh, I could throw out a million excuses.  I have pay-job work to do.  Or I'm 'not feeling it'.  Or Lack of sales is depressing the shit out of me. Or I don't have the money to do what I need to do.  Wah wah wah.  In the end, though, I have chosen this.  I choose to not be 'out there'.  I choose to let things interfere with the writing and the editing and the marketing. 

And yes, I know people are out there doing everything they can do and they're still not seeing the sales. At least they're trying.  If you try everything you can, and you're still not seeing sales, you can still hold your head up. 

So, yeah, quitcher bitchin', Meissner**.  Or get to work and do what you can do... what you're willing to do... and get the hell over yourself.  Accept your fate.

Except I've never been good at accepting my fate. 


* Within reason and legal/ethical boundaries, of course.
** I call myself by my maiden name when I'm giving myself a good talking to.

I Am Insane.

As you all probably know, I've been at this full-time writing thing for almost 15 years now.  (I started writing my first book 15 years ago in January, but I didn't start writing full time until July - after I got married and quit my job.) 

I started my self-publishing journey in November of 2014 when I sent Dying Embers off to a paid editor.  DE was published in February of 2015 and we were off to the races.

I fully expected this venture to start funding itself within a year.  Yeah, I was naive (and probably insane).  But I sincerely didn't think it was too big a goal.  I wasn't asking to be rich, but I was hoping my writing would stop being a drain on the family finances.  That didn't happen.

In 2017, I started doing contract spreadsheet stuff or the pay-job, as I like to call it.  Which was good, because then I could stop draining the fundage and pay for publishing stuff myself.  Albeit still not with much of the money coming from the actual books.  2017 sales were horrible. 

2018 went better - mainly because I now had money to put toward advertising and I published four new books, too. 

Now, here I am staring down the barrel of 2019.  And as I sit here in the middle of a crappy sales month where my page reads are pathetic, and looking back at all the money I've spent on publishing, I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing. 

A couple weeks ago, someone told me about a job - one where I would be drawing a steady paycheck with full bennies - and I have to admit, the whole thing sounded very attractive to me.  I mean, the pay's not great but it would be pay.  And the bennies... :swoon:  If you've ever had to write checks to pay for your own health insurance, you understand.  The premiums are ungodly.  Every quarter, I cringe.  Especially since the (Un)Affordable Healthcare Act came into being.  Ugh.

And I got to thinking that this is insane.  Writing, I mean.  Working for hours and hours on a book, writing it, editing it, re-editing it, publishing it, marketing it... For what?  So I can sit here and watch sales trickle in?  (Or not as the case often is.)

So, that might explain why in my Sunday Updates, you'll see I haven't done much of anything.  I'm stuck in the riptide again.  And I can't seem to break free.  Or even have the presence of mind to swim parallel to the shore until I can get myself to safety.

The sane thing to do would be to take that job.  With the craptastic labor pool around here, I'm a shoe-in.  Hell, the simple fact that I can pass a background check and a drug test puts me way ahead of most of the other applicants.  I'm personable.  I'm literate.  And the fact that I have a sales background wouldn't hurt. 

But no.  I'll keep doing this.  I'll keep doing this until I can't stand it anymore.  I will get back to editing Ugly and the Beast, and then I'll pour more money down that hole.  And I'll hope.  Because that's all I can do.

Because, as I've long suspected, I am insane.

Done Hiding

As you know, I've been working again and I wouldn't say what I was working on in case I jinxed the mojo or some such thing.  Well, I'm done hiding.  Time for me to step out of the closet and get over my precious self.  It's not like telling all of you will jinx anything.  I'm the only one who can jinx my work and to think otherwise hearkens back to the days when I was super superstitious.  Thought I was over that... huh.

Okay, so it's probably not going to be a big surprise or anything.  No big shocker here.  I got the ball rolling with the bunny story and then jumped back into Ugly and the Beast.  I'm currently sitting at 42600 words.

It was going really good until the cold hit and I expect it'll go really good from here on out.  I know where I'm going and what I'm doing.  And I'm not really all that far from the end.  Think like 52K or something.  (Sleeping Ugly was a short first draft, too.)

And since I outed myself there, I thought I'd also out myself on the cover I've been sitting on since November.  Here it is:

That's Oliver.  You haven't met him yet.  He makes his debut in UatB.  I've got Jessica (my cover artist) working on the cover for Cinder Ugly right now.  Just Jeni, no Oliver.  And Jeni definitely looks tougher on the third cover.  SU she was pissed about the curse.  UatB she's disgusted and a little resigned over it.  CU she'll be lookin' to take her life back. 

So, there it is.  I'm back to work on what I'm supposed to be working on.  Should have the first draft done by the end of the month, then edits next month.  I'm hoping to have this in my editor's hands by the end of March.  So June for publication?  Maybe?  I have to check with the AWE and see what her schedule looks like.

Here's to getting back on track.  Let's hope it stays this way for the rest of the year, eh?

Something Else

Evil Space Bunnies has been set aside.  I'm working on something else now.

I don't want to talk about it.

I think I'm afraid talking about it will make the magic disappear.  And lord knows, I've been without magic for a while now.

There's a good chance I'll actually finish this.  There's a good chance I'll publish this.  Which means, right now, I'm being extra careful I don't ruin it.

Hubs doesn't even know what I'm working on.  I'm pretty sure when he sees me sit down and start typing, he thinks I'm still working on the bunnies. 

The bunnies were cool.  And they did what they needed to do.  They got me writing again.  That's the most important part. 

But right now, I feel as if I'm walking on rice paper, trying not to make it rip beneath my feet.  (If you existed in the '70s, you might remember the reference.)  One wrong move and it'll all be ruined.

I know that's not true.  It certainly isn't rational.  But that's how I'm feeling right now. 

So when you see me talking about making progress, just know that it's something else.  Maybe when I get it finished, I'll talk about it. 

Staying quiet also means I won't fall on my face publicly if this all goes horribly wrong.  But let's not even think about that right now.  Don't want to jinx it.

Meanwhile, I'm working the OUAD sale as hard as I can without being a totally annoying twerp.  The ad went live yesterday, and while the whole book sales weren't quite as high as I'd hoped, there are page reads to come.  I also did a FB post boost which flopped on its face, but I pretty much expected that.  I was just trying to get it in people's faces for a day.  About 250 people saw it, which are about 240 more people than would've seen it otherwise.  Four more sale days to go.

Peace out.

Angsting and a Snippet

Sitting here trying to think of what to post this morning.  Generally, when there's nothing on my radar to talk about, I turn to posting snippets.  And I'd really like to post a snippet of Evil Space Bunnies, but it's horribly raw.  Not raw as in rated-R, but raw as in way undercooked.  Like one of my usual Thanksgiving turkeys - pink in the middle*.  A Salmonella Express Production.  Which would be seriously disappointing.

And then I got to thinking how I didn't want to disappoint anyone by posting a snippet and then not being able to actually publish this book for some reason.

And Voila! a post subject presented itself. 

I don't know how many times I've stopped myself from doing something out of the fear of disappointment.  Disappointing myself.  Disappointing others. 

What if I can't finish this?  What if I do finish it, but it's not as awesome as I thought it was going to be?  Either way, someone is going to be disappointed. 

Here I sit, telling people about this book and I'm not even sure I can put my money where my mouth is.  (And wondering why I told people about this book at all, but I was just so excited to be writing again, I couldn't help myself.)

What I have to do is get over myself.  And get over this fear.  The only way to never disappoint anyone is to never do anything.  Never try anything.  Sit in a chair, watching TV, and slowly atrophying.  Sounds like a blast.  Not.

So, to combat that, here's a snippet of the undercooked, 'way too first drafty' Evil Space Bunnies:

A cute and fluffy bunny hopped across the meadow toward me.  His shiny button eyes twinkled and his tiny velvet nose wrinkled.  Next thing I knew, the little bastard whipped out some kind of ray gun and shot me in the ankle. 

That’s the last donation the ASPCA gets from me, I thought.

Looking back, that’s how this whole thing got started.  One minute I’m enjoying a beautiful summer day; the next, I’m running for my life.  It was as if the whole species  of lagomorphs suddenly decided they’d had enough of being darling, and decided it was high time they took over the job of King of the Forest.

It wasn’t until much later I found out about the space ship.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.  My name is Ronald.  Ronald Aardboer.  I own a small vegetable farm in the middle of Indiana.  I raise lettuce, carrots, cabbage… Anything you might get the urge to toss together and drown in the dressing of your choice.  People around town call my place Salad Acres.  Funny.  I didn’t think a thing about it, but I guess my place was the obvious starting point for the invasion.

Like I was saying.  The damn thing hopped out across the meadow… You know the one.  Just past the lettuce beds and before you get to the pond.  And before I knew what was happening, the damn thing shot me in the ankle.  Hurt like hell, but it was such a tiny gun it really didn’t damage anything.  So I turned tail and ran like the dickens back toward the barn.  I keep my 12-gauge in there for scaring off critters.  I grabbed the thing, and ran back toward where that rabbit had been.  Sure enough, there he was, and he was laughing at me.  Well, I cocked the rifle and blew his itty bitty head clear off.

I probably shouldn’t have done that, thinking about it now.  ‘Cause it really pissed off the hundred or so of the little bugger’s buddies.  They came flying out of the woods and out of the long grass, screaming to beat the band, and each of ‘em had a little ray gun.

This may or may not be a whole book at some point down the road.  So don't get your hopes up.  Let's just bask in the happy of my actually writing again.  K?


*Which is why I don't do Thanksgiving turkeys.  Or any whole turkey.  Every turkey, every time - pink in the middle.  Years ago, Hubs took over turkey duty.  Probably to save himself from potential food poisoning.  Give me any other meat and I am awesome.  Put a turkey in front of me, and I lose my ability to cook.  :shrug:

Bored Bored Bored

The other day, I was reading a post over at The Mad Genius Club.  The writer was talking about being bored with his writing. And I recognized the symptoms.

Yeah, it's not something we talk about.  Because, ya know, readers might get the wrong impression - like we're bored so our books must be boring.  But we writers know that's not the case.  What we're talking about when we mention being bored refers to being bored with what we're currently writing.  (Ages away from publication here, folks.)

And I'm saying 'we' because, yeah, I'm bored, too.

As y'all know, my creativity well's been pretty damn dry lately.  And I've been stumbling around in the dark trying to figure out why.  This may be the answer.

Every time I think about any book I've got on my writing schedule - the books that NEED to be completed because they're in a series, etc. - I totally don't want to write them.  I feel like I've been there, done that.  And I can't think of anything new to write.  SCIU?  DH?  OUAD?  SU?  :yawn:  It's all been done.  :breaks into the refrain from a Bare Naked Ladies song:

Bored bored bored.  Garfield hanging on a screen door bored.

So, I'm been trying to shift my thinking over to something that won't bore the shit out of me.  Maybe it's time to hit that Arthurian UF I've been thinking about.  Or maybe, just maybe, it's time to revisit that SF with the evil space bunnies.  Neither of those would be boring.

The Arthurian UF is about the knights and villains of the myth coming to life inside various people of today and the heroes have to find Excaliber before the villains do or bad things will happen.  (You now, like apocalyptic bad.)  It's gonna be a lot of work, which might be why I left it after the opening scene.  Loads of research into the myths, etc.to get the characters right.  I mean, I inhaled everything Arthurian I could get my hands on once upon a time, but that was ages ago.

The bunny thing is about cute, fluffy - but totally evil - bunnies coming to conquer Earth and the farmer who fights them.  It'll be funny and quirky and crazy things will happen.  Writing that might be easier, even though I've never done SF.  It started out as a short story I was fiddling with years ago, but it's morphed into something larger in my head.

Either way, it can't hurt to try writing something different for a while.  Maybe it'll shake something loose and I can go back to writing the things I need to write.  :shrug:  Time will tell.   

Hopefully, sometime soon, you'll see me talking about progress on something.  It's been like 6 weeks since I did anything major in the writing/editing sphere and I'm starting to get the DTs.

Are you bored?  What can you do to shake yourself out of it? 

Update:  I sat down last night and wrote almost 1600 new words.  I only stopped because it's been so long since I wrote that my hands needed a break.  Then I went to bed and couldn't stop thinking about where the story was going to go and what would happen next.  Yeah, baby.  I'm cautiously optimistic.  Here's hoping this keeps up.

Stuffs

The reason I've been posting a lot about sales and marketing is that is all I'm doing right now.  No new words still.  No editing.  Just sales and marketing.  Which is better than nothing writerly, I guess.

The Sleeping Ugly sale ended last night.  It tanked.  The best thing to come out of it was that someone read the whole thing in KU and then started reading Wish in One Hand.  Sorta how that end-links thing is supposed to work.  Yay.  If that one person reads the entirely of the OUAD series, it will pay for the ad.  Also yay.

I've been spending some time thinking about writing.  Better than last month when I couldn't even do that.  Baby steps, I guess.  Although, it would probably help if my brain would stop skipping from one story to the next.  "I could do this with SCIU #4 and that with DH #3 and here's a page for that Arthurian UF and here's some lines for... and maybe if you did this with..." Stop it already.  Find a story and stick with it.

I saw on FB that my cover artist fell and crumpled herself.  Ack.  I have a spot with her next month for the third Ugly cover.  I don't need it next month (the book isn't even close to being written), but it was only spot she had available so I snapped it up.  She doesn't have any more open spots until sometime in 2020.  Anyway, I hope she gets better quick - and not just because I need her.  She's a super-cool person and really nice and she doesn't deserve to be laid up.

Is it just me or do other self-published authors have nightmares about stuff like that?  Artists and editors injuring themselves so they won't be there when we need them?  :shudder:

While I'm not writing or publishing, I'm hoarding fundage so that when the dam finally does break and I'm ready to put more books out into the universe, I'll be able to pay for them.  Or, you know, if my computer has a meltdown, I'll be able to get a new one.  That kind of stuffs.

Oh, and I'm putting the entire Once Upon a Djinn series on sale next month.  The 3rd through the 9th.  WIOH will be 99c/99p.  The rest will be $1.99.  I have an ad with Bargain Booksy going out on the 5th.  I might try doing some other advertising during that time.  Maybe I'll make the leap and try an Amazon ad. 

I think that's about all the stuff for right now.  Any questions?  Comments?  Stuffs of your own?

Getting Back Into the Swing of Writing

Obviously, the best way to get back into the swing of writing is to never get out of it in the first place.  But if you're like me, life intervenes, editing must be done, things are getting published, marketing beckons... and the writing of new words get shunted off to the side. 

I haven't written new words for any length of time in months.  Last year, I kept saying I would write and then didn't.  I couldn't get the gumption up.  And the longer I went without writing, the harder it got.  I went from being able to sit down and bang out a couple thousand words to being lucky if I could put together a freakin' paragraph. 

So, how does one get back into the swing of things when the swing has stopped and you've lost your inertia?

Got me by the ass.

I think maybe I'm going to try baby pushes.  Push a little, back and forth back and forth, until the inertia builds again and I can really get swinging. 

I'm also going to try and spent more time thinking about writing.  When everything's quiet and my brain is left to it's own devices, I'm going to try and shift my thinking to writing.  What happens next in the story?  What about the idea for X?  How do you see that progressing?  What new and interesting things can you throw at your MC?  And I'll be writing these thoughts down whenever possible.  Get the juices flowing, even if they aren't flowing in the direction I thought I wanted them to go.  :shrug:

I've gotta do something.  I can't just sit here letting dust gather on my writing career.

Looking Ahead

I may have said before that I am horrible at looking ahead.  Always have been, as far as I can tell.  Being with Hubs has gone a long way toward getting me to plan for the future, but I still find it really hard to think about next year or next month.  Hell, even next week is too far away.  Making an appointment months in advance sends me into spasms.  Ahem...

Anyway, I'm trying to look ahead.  I actually got off my butt and planned a sale for the end of the month.  AND I set up advertising.  (Already paid for advertising that's 3 weeks off.  :shudder:)  All the SCIU books will be discounted from the 24th thru the night of the 30th and the ads will go out for DE on the 26th.  The ads are with Bargain Booksy (again) and Book Adrenaline (new to me).  Fingers crossed.

I've got to plan ahead for releases and junk.  Get covers and editing way in advance, which I've been pretty good about.  Plan the time it will take me to edit a book and how much time it'll take AWE to do her part, etc. 

As I said earlier this week, I need to start thinking about spreadsheets for 2019.  Which really should be completed before 2018 ends.

Doing stuff in 2019?  Not a friggin' clue.  I have no idea what the publication schedule will look like.  And every time I think about it the spasms begin.  It's like, for some reason, 2019 is a void to me.  And thus, I am avoiding it.  Hehe.

At the beginning of 2018, I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to accomplish in the year.  Publish 4 books.  With the release of Unequal in a couple weeks, I will have done that.  I even had a good idea of which books would go out.  This coming year?  No clue.  I know I should probably publish the next two Sleeping Ugly books, but I can't wrap my brain around either of those at the moment.  I have ideas for another SCIU and another Dennis Haggarty.  But I would need to write those before I could even begin to think about publishing them.  I have two other older manuscripts I'd like to see in print, but they need a lot of work before I inflict them upon my AWE.

So, the question becomes, do I bust my ass and write four books so I can publish them in 2019?  Or do I cut back and only do a couple?  Do I go back to edit older books that are already written?  Gah.

Anyway, you see my quandary.  Things will happen in 2019.  What those things will be?  :shrug:  You got me.

But first... Finish editing Unequal and get it out there.  The rest will handle itself somewhere along the way.

I Suck At This

The other day I had someone ask me which of my books I'd recommend to someone who'd never read any of my books.  You know, which one should they start with?

Argh.

I hate that question because I am really bad at answering it.  Which of my books would I recommend to a first time reader?  Gah.

I don't know.  I don't know what any given person would like to read. 

One would assume the easy answer would be Dying Embers, because it's my first book and why not have people start at the beginning, right?  Except I don't know if the person in question likes suspense.  Or revenge.  Or female MCs.  Or female villains.  What if I recommend a title and the person hates the premise behind that particular title?  Then it would be a total let down and my recommendation would be the cause.

If I'm out in public and face-to-face with the person, I can hand them a bookmark and we can talk about what they like to read.  If it's online, it's sort of... Gah.

This is why I was never any good at telemarketing.  If I can't show the product and put it in a customer's hands, demonstrate its awesomeness, I can't sell it.  I mean, I love all my books and I want everyone to read them all, but all readers are not eclectic like me.  I'll read any genre, pretty much.  But other people generally stick to one genre or two.  So how do I know which book to recommend?

Ugh.

My answer was ultimately to say 'it depends' and then offer them Dying Embers and list the other genres of the books I've written with a link to my author page so they could go check out the offerings for themselves.  Not sure what they did after that.  I hope I didn't chase them away with my waffling.

This was all so much easier when I sold screwdrivers.  Slotted or Philip's Head?  And how long?  And how skinny?  Magnetic?  Want the whole set?  They're ergonomic, doncha know.  How many can I put you down for? 

Even better when they were looking for resistors or capacitors.  They already knew all the parameters they needed.  All I had to do was show why mine were better than the competitor's and write the freakin' order.

Double ugh.

What do you do when someone asks you to recommend a book?

Bad Inner Editor. Sit. Stay.

Recently, a writer friend of mine was lamenting the fact that she can't seem to get out of her own way with the book she's working on.  She's written pages and pages and pages only to scrap them and write more pages.  And I think it's driving her batty.  This one book - the culmination of a trilogy - is undoing her.

I get it.  She wants the book to be perfect.  Or if not perfect, at least a bit better than her last book (which was excellent by the way, but we're all always trying to make the next book better than the last).  But I think her inner editor is hamstringing her. 

You know the inner editor.  She's a bitch.  Always with the 'this sucks, start over' and never with the 'this is awesome, keep going'. 

Oh, she's a bitch, but she does keep us honest, nipping at our heels like a Border Collie.  So, I'm not saying get rid of her entirely.  But there are times when the bitch needs a muzzle.  Especially when she's keeping us from getting the book written. 

I struggle with her all the time.  All.  The.  Time.  She's being particularly vocal right now, as a matter of fact.  "You're doing this wrong," she says.  "You need to scrap this and start over."  "You need to rewrite this scene, and if you do, then you need to rework that scene and, by the way, if you do that, you'll need to go back and fix the part of Sleeping Ugly that refers to..."  Ugh. 

Whack that inner editor on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper.  She's not being helpful right now.  Let her out of her kennel after the book is written, when it's time for editing and that bad dog has learned to sit and stay.   

I'd ask if you struggle with your inner editor, but that's a given.  So, how do you get your inner editor to behave?