Putting Myself Out There

An indie writer needs to market themselves. It’s perhaps my worst failing that I don’t do a great job marketing myself. I have trouble exclaiming to people, “You need to read my writing!” Call it Midwestern Female Syndrome¹, but it’s real.

This blog is part of marketing myself. To be honest, the main purpose of this blog is to talk about writing and my thoughts about it. When you read my blog, I hope you’re thinking “That’s what it’s like to be a writer.” Hopefully, it also makes you want to read what I’m writing.

Just like my newsletter right now — blank.

I post now and again on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram using Loomly, a social media manager. I post mostly silly things (did you know it was National Kitten Day on Tuesday of this week?) but that’s to get my name out there. I also advertise my books there.

I also write a newsletter every three weeks. If you’re familiar with my blog, you’ll be familiar with what my newsletter is like. I talk about life as a writer, my books, and plans in a chatty way. I try for more atmospheric, with pieces of my surrounding life included. Once I wrote about the gift I received of an Emotional Support Pickle, for example. If you would like to be on my newsletter mailing list, please drop me an email here.

These are all suggested ways to promote one’s books, but I can’t help but think I’m not doing these right. I’m not good at self-promotion, as I have said above, and would like to get better. My Midwestern Female Syndrome keeps me from bragging too much. Would anyone like to read a book?

Midwestern Female Syndrome is the internal desire to be perfect combined with the desire to be outwardly unremarkable; to be outstanding but not to stand out.

The Rabbit Hole of Research

I’m writing a short story based on the Hidden in Plain Sight books, about some characters I spend less time with. It takes place in Chicago, and I’m racking my brain to remember Chicago, which I remember as a disconnected series of commercial and residential areas.

I try to jog my memories (as inadequate as they are) by looking at maps — a Google map and a Chicago neighborhood map. I just reemerged from a two-hour reverie of putting names and places to various places I remember from over thirty years ago. The No Exit was in Rogers Park, which is almost Evanston. My boyfriend’s mother lived in North Austin, and his grandparents lived in Hermosa. I spent a spring break at a storefront loft in “unredeemed Bucktown”, as a friend of mine from (I believe) Lakeview. I remember a great Korean restaurant in Lincoln Square and had one of the most frightening experiences of my life in Lincoln Park.

Two hours later, I have gotten no closer to writing the story. I don’t even know where I’m going with the story. But I have sorted out a series of mental Polaroids that represent my memories. As these memories are thirty years old, I had buried those Polaroids in a closet I seldom go into.

Finding Inspiration for a New Book

I’m just about to where I will put Carrying Light into a drawer to mellow for a while. I’m repairing immediately obvious problems, including cutting a subplot out that wasn’t adding anything and modifying some wordy expository stuff (telling, not showing) at the beginning. Today will be looking at continuity of the main relationship. I got so immersed in the book I don’t want to let it go. For a few weeks, it was my reality.

It’s time to pick up a new project. But what? I feel singularly uninspired. I have a book waiting for me, but no desire to write it. Richard (my husband) gave me an idea for a book but I definitely see no reason to write a book that feels like a contractual obligation in my series. I don’t write the next Kringle book until November; it’s my annual NaNoWriMo ritual.

Oh, but there’s another book I need to write … it’s in the Hidden in Plain Sight series, and it tells of why there are only about 300 Archetypes and thousands of different ethnicity groups in the world. (There should be Archetypes to represent most, if not all, of the groups.) This was revealed in a previous book with a lingering question. I’m not sure what to do with that book idea, because as momentous as the implications are, I don’t know how to get to the momentous part. The action goes fast and then there’s the revelation, and then there’s a lot of heaviness afterward. There’s a lot of feeling, but not a lot of there there. It could be a short story, but can a short story carry that much of the secret of the Archetypes? I think not.

I suppose I could take a break. But it’s the middle of the summer, and I am ahead on my classes. I work on them in the morning, and then work on writing. The ritual helps me with my moods and with my productivity.

So what am I going to write? Toss me some ideas!

Writing in a Perilous Time

It’s an edgy time in the US, especially if you are part of the population that doesn’t want Trump to win. I don’t want Trump to win. The news is discouraging to Democrats, and many are urging Biden to drop out of the race, which would be a big setback for the Democratic Party — but so might staying in.

I can’t predict what will happen, but I can get anxious. And I am anxious about the political landscape. The United States usually muddles along even in bad times. I’m not sure how well we will muddle now.

How do I deal with my anxiety? I write a novel about the future economic and social collapse of the United States. That’s the book I’ve been working on, Carrying Light. Writing it has been a cathartic downer, to be honest. The collective Barn Swallows’ Dance has been holed up listening to the signs of a cataclysm from the radio as the tensions of their community boil over. They witness what happens when various factions pour gasoline on a million small fires.

Meanwhile, Barn Swallows’ Dance is facing their own crisis. They cannot be self-sufficient in an era of shipping disruptions and food shortages. They depend largely on purchases of wheat and legumes to feed the 65-person collective. To make things worse, their population is aging, and they have not found people to replace members lost by attrition. Because of their secrets, they cannot afford to let people in who cannot handle the world of Barn Swallows’ Dance. Only people who can accept preternatural members, a sentient garden, strange gifts among the populace, and a true story about the end of humanity can be trusted.

It’s a hell of a time to write this novel, which answers a question of “how bad can it get?” It can get much worse than at the moment, and my collective has to get through the darkness and out the other side. Writing this has not been an escape, but a weight upon my shoulders that never lets up.

Now that the main writing is done, I will look this over one more time and put it in a drawer to settle. And I will not write another book this heavy anytime soon.

Some Remedies for Procrastination

It’s Monday, and I’m not feeling motivated. I spent the morning working on class-related work and got quite a bit done. I promised myself I would write on my book in the afternoon if I got my classwork done. Now it’s afternoon, I am two and a half chapters from done with this book, and I do not know where I’m going.

I’m procrastinating by reading Facebook, and by writing this (although I consider this more of a warmup than a procrastination.) What can I do to keep from procrastinating?

Break the task down into smaller tasks. I have about 1000-1500 words to write to finish this chapter. Can I break this down into three groups of 500?
Put a motivator at the end of this task. If I get done, I can … play on the Internet. Or nap. Napping sounds fun.
Start doing the task for 15 minutes, promising myself that if I am still not feeling it, I can quit.

These are my go-tos for procrastination. See you in 15 minutes.

Hidden in Plain Sight Series Plans

I’m three chapters away from finishing the first draft of Carrying Light, after which I am going to put it in a dark drawer (figuratively) for three months or more before I look at it again. To be sure, I don’t need a final copy for at least two years. I have two books that would get published ahead of it, Reclaiming the Balance (hopefully Jan. 1, 2025) and The Avatar of the Maker (hopefully Jan. 1, 2026). I also have one book that would be published after it, Whose Hearts are Mountains (January 1, 2028 if all works well). What will influence the publication dates is my cover artist, because I trust her vision on the books better than anyone else’s (she’s my niece).

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The next project is going to be a final edit of Reclaiming the Balance. I’m still on the fence about publishing that one. It’s a different novel about the collective known as Barn Swallows’ Dance. It centers on a relationship between a human with a vengeful Archetype ex-boyfriend and a potential, unique partner. The conflict is in her relationship and in the collective trying to prevent her kidnapping. And in the dichotomy between the collective’s progressive attitudes and their very real prejudice. There’s action, kidnapping, a battle, and an attack. I just hope it’s not too “brainy”.

Publishing the Hidden in Plain Sight pieces (all the above-named) is nerve-wracking; I have a lot more invested in those than I do the Christmas romances. The Kringle Chronicles series is fluffy and fun. The Hidden in Plain Sight series is more serious (with glimmers of humor; I can’t go without that) and sometimes even dark. It’s where I ask about the possibilities ahead.

I will publish them eventually, because what’s the good of asking about the possibilities ahead if nobody reads them?

Background Research

We got up early to write this morning, having arrived at Starbucks by 6:15. I’ve written 500 words done in two and a half hours, which is slow, but I’ve had to do several searches on Google in the process. I searched mostly on the nutrition status of several wild greens. I’m happy to say that garlic mustard is high in Vitamin C, so after shipping and imports in the US have broken down, people will still be able to get Vitamin C by eating weeds.

I’m writing about the collapse of the United States, after all. How does one prepare for that? Self-sufficiency (which is impossible, it turns out) and barter arrangements. If one anticipates the worst, one can prepare. A collective with a high number of educated individuals can anticipate, so this is not the tension in the group. Instead, they struggle with the fact that they will weather the catastrophic failure of the economy. Their battle is whether to share with others vs hide within themselves. With preternatural entities and a miraculous garden, this is not a trivial matter. A value conflict, with a side of fear.

I have had to do a lot of searches to write this book. Everything Barn Swallows’ Dance does to adapt to a calamitous change, I have to research. Questions like ‘How much wheat do 65 people eat in a year?’, ‘Dry-wash media for biodiesel’, ‘Nutrition in garlic mustard’, and ‘How much tannerite needed to collapse a building?’. (The latter question is one of those that writers have nightmares about, fearing the FBI will show up on the doorstep.)

It took the Internet to entice me to write. Before, I had the same questions to answer, but no way to do it quickly. Whose Hearts are Mountains was a story I started in graduate school, but never finished because I didn’t know what life in a desert was like. Once the Internet matured to the point where I could ask questions, I could write.

I need to go back to writing, but first, I need to find a recipe for garlic mustard pesto.

A Little Reassurance in Pantsing

Today, I got reassurance about pantsing (aka “flying by the seat of my pants”). A reminder: I’ve been pantsing Carrying Light because I didn’t like the outline I set up for it. I found the outline rather weak and not supportive of any real depth, so I’ve been writing without the outline. As I’ve said before, I hate writing like that because I feel like I’m just making things up as I go along.

I encountered something that made me feel a lot better about this method, though. A book I wrote a few years ago in the Hidden in Plain Sight series (it’s got two books or maybe three ahead of it for publication) is one of my favorites. I had to go back to it because the end of Carrying Light refers to the flashback events in Whose Hearts are Mountains. I needed to know the names of six people killed in the siege on the University of Illinois campus. (Yes, I trashed my alma mater.)

What I discovered is that I did not empty the trash in the Scrivener program, and that I clearly edited a great deal of the book, to where I found more pages in the trash than in the book. I hadn’t remembered that until looking at all the material in the garbage.

I remember now what happened — I got a developmental editor involved, and she did not make the suggestions that led me to the drastic remodel of the book. I finished her developmental edits (which were excellent) and then realized that the story needed better flow. Then I completely gutted the story and reorganized it.

I will doubtless do the same with Carrying Light once I set it in a drawer for a while. I don’t know if it will require as much attention, because I’ve learned something about plotting from tearing apart Whose Hearts are Mountains.

I got this!

Where I’d Like to Be Right Now

I’m sitting at home again today, cowering in the air conditioning because “it’s going to be another hot one,” in Midwest parlance. I’m listening to playlists that help me concentrate, hoping they’ll inspire me to finish the last three chapters of Carrying Light.

There’s a list of where I’d like to be right now:

At The Elms, enjoying time in the Grotto;
At Broadway Cafe in Kansas City with noise in the background;
At Wild Horse Pass resort in Arizona having a drink in the swimming pool;
In a cabin at Mozingo Lake, on a writing retreat;
Sitting on a couch anywhere that doesn’t encourage slouching;
At a cat cafe, self-explanatory;
In a camper at Mozingo Lake, just because it would be different;
At Starved Rock State Park, except for all the crowds.

Where I do not want to be:

OUTSIDE.

Short Break

I’m writing at home today; trying out another day to see if I can get my word count up without going to Starbucks.

So far, so good. I wrote a 750-word breakup argument, which was a lot of fun. It’s a reminder that I need to get more of the relationship between Forrest and Sage into the book. Remember, I’m pantsing this book (aka “Flying by the seat of my pants”), which means I figure out what’s wrong in retrospect.

I only have four chapters after this before Carrying Light is done. I could happy cry. When I’m done, I’m going to put the novel into a figurative desk drawer to see if fresh eyes will find all the changes I need to make. And then what? I have a novel to re-edit for January 1 publication if I don’t chicken out. It’s a somewhat unusual novel with very different focus from the previous Hidden in Plain Sight novel Apocalypse. I have a couple ideas for novels, but I’m not happy with either one of them. Maybe it’s time to write more short stories. But about what?

People have suggested elven detectives in the manner of Howard the Duck, a battalion of squirrels, and a library run by sentient marmots. These will not happen.