Clawing My Way Out

A friend of mine, upon reading my missives of the past few days, declared, “It’s worse than I thought.”

He’s right. I stepped into a maelstrom of selling myself, and it drowned me. And I’m practically dead, washed up on shore, and I’m the only one there to resuscitate me.

Ok, the first thing is to claw my way back up the beach before the next wave takes me back out. One dragging crawl at a time.

Once I’m far enough from the waves, I flop on my back and think: What do I want out of writing?

I want to write well and improve.

I want to be read by more than just my husband.

I want people to enjoy my work.

I don’t want to be big; I just want to be read and enjoyed.

I don’t know how to do this, which is why I waded into what ended up being the SEO maelstrom, the belief that selling one’s work is more important than writing and that quality is defined by how many page hits one gets.

There was a saying once upon a time: “Do what you love and the rest will follow.” I don’t know if I believe this; it assumes that there is a force in the universe that will promote my project over someone else’s. I don’t want a God who will prioritize my dreams over Flint’s water problem or Puerto Rico’s ravaged infrastructure. I’ll do what I love, but I don’t have faith that the rest will follow. Which is why, I suspect, I walked into the shrieking maelstrom in the first place.

The World Needs

The motto of NaNoWriMo is, as I have shared before, “The world needs your novel”.

I have doubted that, since the world hasn’t yet published my novel. There’s so many novels out there, however, that the world can’t see my novel. Too many people write, too many people get rejected because they’re not guaranteed in the current fashion — I may not be good at writing, but being rejected by the current agent process won’t tell me if I’m good.

I have an acquaintance who’s my role model — when a project doesn’t catch fire, he tries something else. He doesn’t have to deal with the huge time commitment of novel-writing, so it’s not quite the same. But I watch him keep trying and learning, and the story it makes is totally fascinating.

I am working to model his persistence. Nobody’s representing me? I seek out small press and publish my least sellable works on Wattpad. These aren’t likely to make me the “It” person at writers’ conventions, but I find hierarchies of fame tiring.

The world needs my perseverance.
The world needs my compassion.
The world needs my struggle.
The world needs my love.
The world needs my optimisn.

If you want to help — WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE A BETA READER?
This means you take on a manuscript and read it, making notes on parts you liked or didn’t like about it, places that you felt needed more description, more action, etc. I would like us to work through Mythos, which has been rejected once but is the first of a series I’d like to publish.

If you want to be a Beta reader (I need at least 3) please email me (soon!) at:

My email address

AAAAAAAAGH! Writer’s Block!

In the last couple days, I have written six lines of my story. Normally, I write up to 2000 words/day, as when I participate in NaNoWriMo (http://nanowimo.com) or Camp Nano (campnanowrimo.org). I’ve only not won NaNoWriMo once (50,000 words) and that’s when Trump had just gotten elected. (I didn’t have the heart to write.)

I’m not sure why I struggle to write right now. The current book (working title: The Ones who Toppled the World) isn’t much more difficult than most of what I’ve written. I have a relatively good outline to plantz from. I have more time to write than I do during the school year.

This leaves me with several possibilities:

I need a kick to the imagination.
I need a vacation from writing 😕
I’m letting my discouragement get to me.
I find the current story more challenging than I’m letting on.
I’m writing in my blog too much 😜
I need a more atmospheric place to write than my couch.
I need a soundtrack to write with.
I haven’t fallen in love with my characters yet. These characters — the sardonic Grace and the analytical Ichirou; the calm and prepared Ayana and her partner, the chameleonic Greg — I’ve barely scratched their surfaces. Maybe I need to have a chat with them to get to know them better?
I’m not seeing myself as a writer lately.

Ok, I have ideas to play with now. Let’s chat sometime!