Have you ever said something into a quiet room that gets a completely different reaction than you expected, especially the reaction of shock when you were expecting nods of agreement? I feel this stems from the unfortunate fact that everyone else can't hear all the other thoughts that lead up to that comment. Or maybe it is because everyone doesn't think about the same things I do. Perhaps it's because people have different associations with phrases and words than I do. In any event, it's often embarrassing. Case in point:
The other day, while gathered with my parents, my sister and brother-in-law, and my grandparents, I casually mentioned, "Cody and I are always looking for a third in our relationship."
The room was suddenly dead silent. Then my mom proclaimed, "I don't want to know about this!"
At which point it occurred to me that everyone in the room was probably thinking that I meant that I wanted a third person for sex. I guess that was the logical conclusion. I suppose that's what all those people mean in the personal ads of newspapers. You know, the "Young couple seeking adventurous woman who likes to travel," which is probably not a request for a chauffeur. However, that wasn't at all what I meant. (As if I would say such a thing in front of family!)
Mainly I think about how great it would be to have a third person in our relationship when I'm thinking of money. It's rather shallow of me, but I think about how great it'd be to have three incomes. Then we could buy a house, buy new furniture, buy new cars, get more cats (we'd have more square footage for them to roam in), I could write full time, we could travel more. The list goes on and on. Of course, it'd be great to have another person I cared about as much as Cody, for there's no such thing as too many people to love and being loved by too many people in my book. But that's a secondary thought. Mainly it's the selfish, shallow "want" thoughts that make me blurt out things like, "Cody and I are always looking for a third." The sex rarely enters my mind, I swear :)
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Paying Attention
In the "All Done" post last week, I mentioned that I've recently transitioned to self-employment. As you might have determined by my description of my soul-sucking former job, I did not leave it on a happy note. I left because I was burned out. I'd never fully understood what people meant before when they said that. I'd been stressed before. I'd been in need of vacations before. But I'd never been burned out before (and I don't recommend it).
Burned out meant that the thought of getting out of bed in the morning to go to work made me feel like shutting out the whole world--hence the hour-long snooze marathons that would ensue, only to be followed by rushing around the house to get ready in time. Burned out also meant that despite being a person that loves breakfast and truly believes that it is a very important meal, I couldn't eat. I'd sit down for the smaller and smaller portions of blander and blander foods that I'd serve myself for breakfast, take a few bites, and be "full." The few times I mindlessly pushed through a meal had me running for the bathroom, panting and gagging over the toilet (never fun). I was exhausted by my workday before it began, and by the end of the day, my mind would be numb to thoughts of doing anything. Collapsing in front of the TV became the best evening activity I could think of. Running errands became a mountainous hurdle to surmount. And going to bed with the thought of getting up to do it all over again was depressing and disheartening.
Sundays were the worst. After two blissful days of (usually) not working, thoughts of the upcoming week would creep in and my mood would sour. By the end of a Sunday evening, even I didn't want to be around myself.
I could go into all the reasons I burned out. They're numerous and have nothing to do with working too many hours, which is what I thought would eventually be the cause. It had more to do with managements unrealistic expectations, responsibilities shoveled onto me without the authority to see them through, and being treated like an expendable commodity. I can pinpoint the day that this burnout, two years in the making, started, and I remember with crystal clarity the day that I realized it was never going to get better.
When I left that job, I felt like I'd been given years of my life back. I was filled with energy and optimism. I had a chip on my shoulder large enough to land a flock of pigeons on, but the unwavering motivation to prove to whoever cared to notice that I could do way better (monetarily, emotionally, physically) without my previous job than I could do at it. I still feel the same way a month later (though I've chiseled down the size of that chip a bit; I think it'd only fit a vulture or two now).
In the past month, I've pushed myself harder than I had in the past two years. As every self-employed person can tell you, working for yourself is more than a full-time job. It's about self-promotion all the time and always hunting for the next project. The workday doesn't always end after 8 hours, especially not if you're trying to be fully self-employed and be a (yet-unpublished) author, too.
I've loved it all. I love how much time I get to spend with Cody, family, and friends. I love making my own routines and my own schedule. I love taking breaks when and where I want. I'm right here at home, so all my meals are better, fresher, healthier. I can fit exercise in at any point in the day. I can play with my cats when I need a break.
Only, I haven't been allowing myself to do much of that. I've been so focused on work and on that chip on my shoulder that tells me I need to constantly do more. When I'm doing marketing research for Madison, it's telling me I should be looking for job opportunities. When I'm working on a query, it's telling me I should be figuring out how to market my book. When I'm looking for jobs, it's telling me that I should already have them or that if I could just sell Madison already, I'd feel much more fulfilled. When I finish work for the day, it's telling me I should have done more household chores, and when I spend more of my day doing household chores, it's telling me that I should have written more.
It's a faulty, flawed thought process. It makes no sense, not even to me. And it took me a while, almost a month, to realize the real problem. I'm a firm believer in the Universe and the law of attraction. I feel that the Universe is very friendly and kind, and that it gives me what I need when I need it. When I first left my soul-sucking job, I received lots of work. It was just what I needed--a decision-affirming boost to rocket me into success. But in the last week, that workload has diminished, and it has felt like I've been running uphill on a treadmill as I look for more work and as I research how to sell Madison. Last night, I finally took notice. When I'm on the right path, good things come to me easily. When I'm headed the wrong way, the Universe is going to let me know, and things get more difficult.
You see, I'd been thinking that simply quiting the job that had fried my last nerves and whittled my core, sustaining strength down to nil would be all that was necessary. And it did work--temporarily. But like a person who has been seriously, physically ill, it's taking my body and mind some time to recover. I hadn't given it that time. I'd expected it to jump right back into 100%, full-throttle mode. Finally, I'm listening. I'm taking a day or two off. I'm going to relax and meditate and read and spend time laying in the sun. I'm going to go to Borders without a goal and wander through the aisles simply for pleasure. I'm going to sleep in without guilt. I'm going to take the vacation that I've needed. Then, when I'm truly rested, I'm going to ease back into my work schedule and I'm not going to be crazy-demanding of myself.
That's the plan, at least. Wish me luck.
Burned out meant that the thought of getting out of bed in the morning to go to work made me feel like shutting out the whole world--hence the hour-long snooze marathons that would ensue, only to be followed by rushing around the house to get ready in time. Burned out also meant that despite being a person that loves breakfast and truly believes that it is a very important meal, I couldn't eat. I'd sit down for the smaller and smaller portions of blander and blander foods that I'd serve myself for breakfast, take a few bites, and be "full." The few times I mindlessly pushed through a meal had me running for the bathroom, panting and gagging over the toilet (never fun). I was exhausted by my workday before it began, and by the end of the day, my mind would be numb to thoughts of doing anything. Collapsing in front of the TV became the best evening activity I could think of. Running errands became a mountainous hurdle to surmount. And going to bed with the thought of getting up to do it all over again was depressing and disheartening.
Sundays were the worst. After two blissful days of (usually) not working, thoughts of the upcoming week would creep in and my mood would sour. By the end of a Sunday evening, even I didn't want to be around myself.
I could go into all the reasons I burned out. They're numerous and have nothing to do with working too many hours, which is what I thought would eventually be the cause. It had more to do with managements unrealistic expectations, responsibilities shoveled onto me without the authority to see them through, and being treated like an expendable commodity. I can pinpoint the day that this burnout, two years in the making, started, and I remember with crystal clarity the day that I realized it was never going to get better.
When I left that job, I felt like I'd been given years of my life back. I was filled with energy and optimism. I had a chip on my shoulder large enough to land a flock of pigeons on, but the unwavering motivation to prove to whoever cared to notice that I could do way better (monetarily, emotionally, physically) without my previous job than I could do at it. I still feel the same way a month later (though I've chiseled down the size of that chip a bit; I think it'd only fit a vulture or two now).
In the past month, I've pushed myself harder than I had in the past two years. As every self-employed person can tell you, working for yourself is more than a full-time job. It's about self-promotion all the time and always hunting for the next project. The workday doesn't always end after 8 hours, especially not if you're trying to be fully self-employed and be a (yet-unpublished) author, too.
I've loved it all. I love how much time I get to spend with Cody, family, and friends. I love making my own routines and my own schedule. I love taking breaks when and where I want. I'm right here at home, so all my meals are better, fresher, healthier. I can fit exercise in at any point in the day. I can play with my cats when I need a break.
Only, I haven't been allowing myself to do much of that. I've been so focused on work and on that chip on my shoulder that tells me I need to constantly do more. When I'm doing marketing research for Madison, it's telling me I should be looking for job opportunities. When I'm working on a query, it's telling me I should be figuring out how to market my book. When I'm looking for jobs, it's telling me that I should already have them or that if I could just sell Madison already, I'd feel much more fulfilled. When I finish work for the day, it's telling me I should have done more household chores, and when I spend more of my day doing household chores, it's telling me that I should have written more.
It's a faulty, flawed thought process. It makes no sense, not even to me. And it took me a while, almost a month, to realize the real problem. I'm a firm believer in the Universe and the law of attraction. I feel that the Universe is very friendly and kind, and that it gives me what I need when I need it. When I first left my soul-sucking job, I received lots of work. It was just what I needed--a decision-affirming boost to rocket me into success. But in the last week, that workload has diminished, and it has felt like I've been running uphill on a treadmill as I look for more work and as I research how to sell Madison. Last night, I finally took notice. When I'm on the right path, good things come to me easily. When I'm headed the wrong way, the Universe is going to let me know, and things get more difficult.
You see, I'd been thinking that simply quiting the job that had fried my last nerves and whittled my core, sustaining strength down to nil would be all that was necessary. And it did work--temporarily. But like a person who has been seriously, physically ill, it's taking my body and mind some time to recover. I hadn't given it that time. I'd expected it to jump right back into 100%, full-throttle mode. Finally, I'm listening. I'm taking a day or two off. I'm going to relax and meditate and read and spend time laying in the sun. I'm going to go to Borders without a goal and wander through the aisles simply for pleasure. I'm going to sleep in without guilt. I'm going to take the vacation that I've needed. Then, when I'm truly rested, I'm going to ease back into my work schedule and I'm not going to be crazy-demanding of myself.
That's the plan, at least. Wish me luck.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Potential for Acting
I've been perusing the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America site for helpful advice on marketing novels. Along the way, I came across an article for Jeff Carlson's Plague Wars trailer. I have never heard of Carlson or his book before, but I was fascinated by the idea of making a live-action trailer for a book. What a great way to get word of your book out there to people! Like most authors (I assume), I'd love to see my novel translated to the big screen (and into a graphic novel). So the thought of making a trailer fits right in. In fact, I can already visualize it.
Is there anyone out there who might like to play a gutsy, if clumsy, heroine in a short 2-4 minute preview?
Is there anyone out there who might like to play a gutsy, if clumsy, heroine in a short 2-4 minute preview?
Saturday, October 11, 2008
False Start
I almost started book 2 in the Madison series today. It was powerfully tempting to set aside query letters and synopsis creations, marketing research and agent hunting to start writing the next book. I almost convinced myself that I needed to write it--that it would help sell the first book (which I think it would) and that I need to keep writing to not lose the story idea or the pacing.
Then I realized that if I spent all my writing time with thoughts of everything I needed to do to get the first book sold floating around in the back of my head, I was going to do exactly what I was afraid I'd do--ruin the pacing and the story idea of the second book.
So instead of spending today's mandatory Madison hour writing book 2, I did some marketing research. As soon as laundry is done, I'm off to Borders to do a little more. Sigh. So close.
(I would also like to say, I'm a big dork. Cody read through my recent posts, then turned to me and gave me our much-joked about "jazz hands," pointing out that I'd used the phrase "I'm jazzed" in a recent post. How embarrassing! How corny! I was going to edit it out, but then Cody posted a comment about it, so short of deleting the comment and the dorky "jazzed" phrase, I'm left with no choice but to leave it all as it is. And, of course, draw a little more attention to my own dorkiness.)
Then I realized that if I spent all my writing time with thoughts of everything I needed to do to get the first book sold floating around in the back of my head, I was going to do exactly what I was afraid I'd do--ruin the pacing and the story idea of the second book.
So instead of spending today's mandatory Madison hour writing book 2, I did some marketing research. As soon as laundry is done, I'm off to Borders to do a little more. Sigh. So close.
(I would also like to say, I'm a big dork. Cody read through my recent posts, then turned to me and gave me our much-joked about "jazz hands," pointing out that I'd used the phrase "I'm jazzed" in a recent post. How embarrassing! How corny! I was going to edit it out, but then Cody posted a comment about it, so short of deleting the comment and the dorky "jazzed" phrase, I'm left with no choice but to leave it all as it is. And, of course, draw a little more attention to my own dorkiness.)
Friday, October 10, 2008
Writing, Not Running
The Universe clearly wants me to write. Three times this week I've gotten up to go down to my apartment's mini-gym and workout. Two of those times, the gym has been locked and I've had to return to my apartment without working out. I suppose I could have walked about the apartment complex, because I was only going to they gym to do some cardio work, but it's cold outside! I like the pacing of the treadmill and the convenient clock it has on the machine to tell me how long I've been torturing my body. Possessing neither a watch or the ability to regulate my own speeds really well when there are distractions like nature and wildlife about, I didn't even bother with the walk.
Instead, I came inside and got an early start on my writing time. The final chapter of Madison is quite tricky. It's hard not to give too much away about the next book without leaving too much hanging. I wonder if it would help to write out the next book, or at least the first several chapters of the next book now? Probably.
Unfortunately, now it's time for query and synopsis work. Okay, that's the wrong attitude, but I know how to write--I don't know how to craft a perfect query, and that's got me antsy.
Instead, I came inside and got an early start on my writing time. The final chapter of Madison is quite tricky. It's hard not to give too much away about the next book without leaving too much hanging. I wonder if it would help to write out the next book, or at least the first several chapters of the next book now? Probably.
Unfortunately, now it's time for query and synopsis work. Okay, that's the wrong attitude, but I know how to write--I don't know how to craft a perfect query, and that's got me antsy.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
An Insight into My Mild Insanity
Yesterday I focused nearly exclusively on writing, which meant that I worked on writing for four hours. They were a good four hours. I edited, I looked for agents, and I did some work on Areia. It was really good stuff. I even got chores around the house done, errands elsewhere completed, and I exercised. It was a red-letter day...or it should have been. I got to the end of the day and felt like I'd failed. I hadn't found an agent (yes, yes, I know; one day of searching and my novel wasn't sold yet. Even I knew I was being a bit dramatic.), I hadn't created the perfect ending for my novel that would make readers' hearts swell with happiness and their fingers itch to reach into their wallets to buy the next one, and I hadn't worked for five hours (which has been my goal). Lucky Cody got to talk me down from that dramatic emotional maelstrom.
Today, I researched agents and general after-a-novel-is-finished stuff for an hour and I'm jazzed.
There's no figuring it out.
Today, I researched agents and general after-a-novel-is-finished stuff for an hour and I'm jazzed.
There's no figuring it out.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
All Done
It's been a ridiculously long time since my last post--a month and a day, to be specific. A lot has happened in my life in that time. The most major change is that I switched from a full-time office job to being self-employed! Of all the wonderful and great things that I've done in 2008, leaving behind the (soul-sucking semi-)corporate world of my previous job ranks in the top 3! Now I no longer work in a place that was making me physically ill; instead, I work from home, and that means that I have a lot more time and energy to focus on my writing.
Unfortunately, that focus was a little lacking for the first few weeks. The transition to being self-employed and making my own work hours was tougher than I thought it would be. Finding the balance between work time for writing and work time for working when it all happens at the same desk was difficult, to say the least. Working won again and again, and it is only this week that I'm finally seeing that unless I put writing first (meaning that I write in the morning before I jump into work), it isn't going to get done.
A few other things intruded on writing time, all of them pleasant. I recently flew to Oklahoma to see my dad's side of the family. That was a fun trip, and I got to visit with relatives that I haven't seen since I was in my early teens. I've also been able to spend more time with my mom, with Cody, and with friends. Now it's merely a matter of finding the right balance between work and fun time (which I think is going to mean getting up earlier than I have been--bummer).
As I mentioned before, this week has been a very productive writing week for me so far. I have finished the third round of edits on Madison. You read that right--I've finished editing Madison! I hope that the changes from here on out are minor and easy (as in, remove a sentence, add a description--not rewrite the final chapter as I just finished doing).
The book is now has 11 chapters, 72,293 words, and 243 pages. (That's 10 pages and 3,800 words longer than the second draft, and 5,182 words longer than the first draft. This makes me a little squeamish about the edits on Areia, which I'm hoping to make smaller. Despite my efforts to trim down Madison to the best prose possible, it still came out longer. Of course, Areia's a much different book... I'll just have to wait and see.)
Now it's officially time to hunt for agents and publishing houses! I'm so excited!
Unfortunately, that focus was a little lacking for the first few weeks. The transition to being self-employed and making my own work hours was tougher than I thought it would be. Finding the balance between work time for writing and work time for working when it all happens at the same desk was difficult, to say the least. Working won again and again, and it is only this week that I'm finally seeing that unless I put writing first (meaning that I write in the morning before I jump into work), it isn't going to get done.
A few other things intruded on writing time, all of them pleasant. I recently flew to Oklahoma to see my dad's side of the family. That was a fun trip, and I got to visit with relatives that I haven't seen since I was in my early teens. I've also been able to spend more time with my mom, with Cody, and with friends. Now it's merely a matter of finding the right balance between work and fun time (which I think is going to mean getting up earlier than I have been--bummer).
As I mentioned before, this week has been a very productive writing week for me so far. I have finished the third round of edits on Madison. You read that right--I've finished editing Madison! I hope that the changes from here on out are minor and easy (as in, remove a sentence, add a description--not rewrite the final chapter as I just finished doing).
The book is now has 11 chapters, 72,293 words, and 243 pages. (That's 10 pages and 3,800 words longer than the second draft, and 5,182 words longer than the first draft. This makes me a little squeamish about the edits on Areia, which I'm hoping to make smaller. Despite my efforts to trim down Madison to the best prose possible, it still came out longer. Of course, Areia's a much different book... I'll just have to wait and see.)
Now it's officially time to hunt for agents and publishing houses! I'm so excited!
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