About ten years ago was when I started writing fiction with a serious intent that I might some day finish a book and get published, I set out on the journey with absolutely no experience. I started writing, but everything I did ended up being a personal essay or a journal-type entry or poetry. Writing fiction, with a real story, dialogue, characters that are whole and complete, with a storyline… that takes a skill set I didn’t yet have, but I sure had the burning desire. It seems strange to think of it now, but ten years ago, the internet wasn’t what it is today. In my small West Texas town where I used to live, cable internet was brand new and super slow (compared to now, but super fast compared to the phone!) I had a phone line that I would unplug from my phone and plug into my computer.

I remember when Call Wave was the big deal, so that I could see who was calling me while I was on the computer and didn’t have to turn off my call waiting or get kicked off when someone called. A lot has changed since then, and now, I work on a super high-speed internet connection – though not nearly as fast as the one I used to have back home, but that’s another story altogether – and the internet is an everyday waking, breathing, pulsing part of my life. I can’t imagine going back to where I’m only on a few hours in the evenings after the kids have gone to bed and no one would possibly be calling me. Read the rest of this entry »

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Below is a list of a few gifts I’d like to give and the reasons why I would like to give them:

DICTIONARY

There is a girl’s blog I read every day, at least every day that she updates, and she tries to sound so professional and educated by using big words. The problem is, she uses them in similar context to how they should be used but with a meaning just slightly off, so that it’s obvious to those who really know the meaning of the words that she doesn’t fully understand how to use them. I suppose that the meaning of them is close enough that a good majority of the people who read her just assume she’s using it right, after all, she’s a writer. She should know, right? Sadly, that’s not true, she doesn’t know, and I cringe when I see these words–it’s as though she used a thesaurus to get a similar word, but didn’t get the nuance of the word. As a lover of words myself, I would like to buy this blogger a dictionary to go with her thesaurus, and give her the gift of knowledge and hopefully the desire to actually look up a word before she assumes it’s a synonym. Read the rest of this entry »

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Okay, so it’s not the nicest way to put it, right? I apologize. I really have issues with the word ’stupid’, so I try to use it sparingly. My father frequently called me stupid as a child, and more frequently asked me if I was stupid. I mean, how are you supposed to answer that?

“What are you, stupid?”

“Uh, yeah?”

So pardon me for the use of the word if it bothers you like it does me, but let’s try to keep the word in perspective and remove any power it has to enjoy the intent behind this post!

Here’s the thing. I’ve been reading about writing for a lot longer than I’ve been professionally writing. I’ve read all the ones who broke into the scene and many of the ones who haven’t or didn’t. I’ve read the good advice, the bad advice and the advice that makes you say, “Huh?” Read the rest of this entry »

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I have the heart of a writer…

….in a jar, on my desk.

Sorry, couldn’t resist. Buffy made me do it; I swear. It’s all her fault. Don’t worry. The image isn’t blood and guts and a heart. It’s making jam, strawberry. Promise.

Now, let’s get back on topic.

In the forum the other day, we were discussing characters in our novels. They are really amazing creatures, these people who live inside our heads. We breathe life into them. We make them whole, complete, real human beings, at least for as long as we hold their universe in our hands. I like the power of this, but sometimes, I balk at the responsibility of it.

When writing one of my current WIPs (work in progress for those who aren’t aware), Accepting Aimee, I have to be in a quirky mood to write her. She is like me in many respects, but in some very important ways, Aimee is nothing like me, and that sometimes makes writing her hard. Her best friend, Gigi, while nothing like me at all, is a lot like someone I’d like to be, so I find writing her (she has her own book coming up next entitled: What Makes a Woman – part of my Convington Confessions series of books) to be a lot more fun and easier for me, since I can slip into her skin, so to speak. Read the rest of this entry »

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…write.

Look, it comes down to this: the only real way to learn how to write is to actually sit down and write.

You can take all the classes in the world, study all the writing-related information on the net, read every book you find on the subject, study thesaurii (wouldn’t that be what they are in plural?) and dictionaries and read every writer you deem ‘great’ to try to learn what they do right and read all the bad ones to learn what they do wrong…

… but when it comes right down to it, the only way you will ever be able to learn how to write is by sitting down and writing.

It’s sort of like driving a car. When you go to driver’s education, they make you study the handbook, read all about driving, and even take a written test to show you can regurgitate that information, but you don’t get to driver’s license until you drive a real car by yourself, and to do that, you have to actually sit behind the wheel with an instructor and learn how to drive. You learn how to drive by driving, driving some more, putting yourself into situations you would be in when you are driving on your own–such as driving on the highway, stop signs, stop lights, right turns, left turns, merging, using blinkers…You learn how to write by writing more, putting it in front of a readership and letting them tear it apart, slam on the second ’special’ break, or scream at you that you’re going to get us all killed if you don’t, for God’s sake, slow down! Read the rest of this entry »

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Working on both sides of the submission desk, as an editor and an author, I am in a unique position to see how both sides feel–the author who is eagerly and as patiently as possible waiting to see if they are accepted or rejected, and the editor who has to deal with the insane authors when they are not so patient.

In the process of experiencing these two sides, I’ve learned a lot about how I should, as an author, treat, respond to, interact with the agents and editors I am submitting to based on how I feel as an editor receiving submissions from authors.

So what I have for you today are real issues I’ve had to deal with in acquisitions, and they are things that, as an author, I would never do! You shouldn’t do them either, unless your goal is to NOT get published.

#10 – Don’t send edited versions of the same submission. Read the rest of this entry »

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I started thinking about this last night. It’s been bugging ever since. First, let me say, it’s official. I’m depressed. I hate when this happens. There is absolutely zero reason for me to feel this way, and I really don’t need anything, I’m just stating it to put it out there, yep, it’s official, and so now maybe I can do something about it. I really do hate this. The one thing I’ve noticed about myself when I’m depressed is that I tend to go numb emotionally – that might not always be a bad thing sometimes – but I have also noticed that my brain goes into ‘think’ mode – and sometimes ‘create’ mode, but either way, it gets me writing, pondering, etc. So I can’t promise this will be as interesting as a discussion for you as it probably is to my brain this morning.

But here it is anyway….

Does a story that a writer writes have to have meaning? Does it have to have a ‘purpose’? If so, is it okay for the purpose to just be to tell a story? Read the rest of this entry »

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We’re having a discussion on the writing forum about where creativity comes from, what the sources of each person’s creativity are. For me, it’s mostly dreams… well, maybe not. Sometimes, I’ll get a flash of something in my head, something really innocuous, and it will plant itself in my brain, dig in and really just tear things up until I pay attention to it. Once it’s germinated in my brain for awhile, it usually will find its way back out somehow and into a story or article. Everything, and I do mean everything, inspires me.

But not everything motivates me to actually sit down and write.

For example, the swimming pool right now is looking a little green. A strong gust of wind came through a month or so ago and took every single leaf off the pear tree and deposited it in the pool. We have gone and scooped leaves out of the pool a little bit every day, but it still looks like an entire tree full of leaves exists at the bottom of the pool. Read the rest of this entry »

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The thunder rolls in from a distance, far enough away there are no flashes of light to accompany the crashing booms, but close enough I can feel the vibration at the core of my body. Storms are wonderful, awesome, fearsome things. I watch the sprinkle of scattered fat raindrops hitting the surface of the shimmering pool of water, not quite enough to wet anything, but just enough to send ripples across the top of the surface.

A fat bird sits on the fencepost, preening himself, content in the humidity and enjoying the cooler breezes the impending storm has sent. I enjoy them too. With the dog at my feet, I watch him cock his head at the birds flying above us, hovering. I wonder if he wants to be a bird or just wants to chase and play with one, but he definitely has a fascinating with the flying, winged creatures that are out of his reach.

The concrete is still very warm against my bare feet. I can feel the heat of the day rising up inside of me, warming my blood, creeping up my legs, and making my body feel weighted, heavy, but connected–connected to the earth, to life, to the pulse of the world.

The sunlight, filtered through the numerous white and gray clouds, warms my face and makes my cheeks tingle. I can feel my skin getting hot, condensing with beads of perspiration like a glass of cool liquid beads with sweat, dripping down my back and neck, cooling me.

I look up toward the sky and close my eyes, taking in a deep, long, shuddering breath. Holding it for a moment, I let it out in a steady, slow exhale, releasing all the worries and stressors of the day.

I raise my arms out to the side and stretch and feel my body coming to life. If I listen closely, I can hear the birds talking to each other, the locust buzzing, and somewhere in the distance is the sounds of trickling water. The thunder booms again and I can hear the soft ping of raindrops hitting the metal rain gutters.

Eyes still closed, arms raised up to the heavens, I can hear the sounds of heartbeats–lawn equipment, cars passing, dogs barking–the sound of civilization. The sound of life being lived.

Even in the middle of the concrete jungles, the cemented forests, there is a connection to earth, to nature, to mother, to creator, to creator of all… when we feel the most disconnected is when life is throwing the most unnatural at us.

Take a moment, today, every day, to ground yourself. Not metaphorically, but physically, literally, ground yourself to the universe, to all that is. Become one with the sounds around you, the feel of the warmth, the flow of the universal energy that is all around and in you. Take off your shoes and plant your feet firmly on the ground, wiggling your toes into the dirt or grass. Breathe in the air and release the worries. Feel the sunlight shine on your face or let the soft drifting moonlit breezes blow across your body.

Rediscover what it means to be a child of nature, an animal if you will, belonging to and of the earth while having some dominion over it. Enjoy the power you have over it and enjoy the humbling power it has over you. Let the energy flow through you.

It’s not new age. It’s not silly. You’ll feel it, whether you want to or not.

You are human, however reluctantly so, and as such, you are a child of the universe. Bask in the warmth of the parental protectiveness of universal energy and feel renewed.

You deserve it.

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