As you all know I am a heavy reader. Usually I read about a book a week and no, I have not been able to keep up with myself and keep the books I’m reading updated in the column on the right-hand side of this page (admit it you never read it and never knew it was there). The plan is to have an entire page devoted the books I’ve read, one page for every year. No, I’m not going to write a review of all of the books I read, not unless I am blown away (or the opposite reaction of “I barely kept myself from burning it before I finished it.”) I’m not even going to dignify them with a star system of how much I liked them or didn’t etc. The truth is, I know that if you wanted a review or a star system you would just go to amazon. The pages will be mostly for me, because, even though I have an excellent memory, I want to make sure I never forget the books that I’ve read.
I haven’t posted in a while.
No kidding huh? My one post a week that I managed since November of last year was blown out of the water since Joseph left me. Life happens. It’s complicated. All that bullshit. Joseph has since renounced everything he said and does wish he never left me. It all makes sense. It all makes no sense. It’s complicated. All that bullshit. Regardless. This year I am free. This is the promise I gave myself. I will no longer be tied, no longer be shackled. This year I am free. This is what I have always wanted. I didn’t get here like I wanted to. But do we ever?
This year I am free.
No grief, no happiness, no change in the wind, will change that simple fact. It is the only plan I will make in 2010. This year I am free. That is the best thing I have ever heard in my whole life. I have never been free. Gone from a bastard father to a nice guy that meant well but who did what all guys do anyway and, of course, felt terrible about it. I believe now that most men are cowards, especially the nice ones, and they will all destroy whoever and whatever they have to to hide that fact.
All men are liars and thieves, the good ones just feel bad about it.
Are you a man? Welcome to the first generation of men who are actually learning that life is unfair. Women have known this fact for two thousand years, if not longer. I have no pity for you, as I have none for women either. It is a rare dead when we’re not all dealt something we don’t deserve. In fact, if you haven’t been dealt something that you absolutely didn’t deserve, than I haven’t met you yet.
I sound contrite and I hate that. You may not believe me but these have been my views for as long as I can remember. All I am suffering now is complete and total gut-wrenching disappointment that my pessimistic and very cold opinions turned out to be relatively true. I am a Tiger according to the Chinese Zodiac and I do live up to my name.
The books I write are all about strong women who crush unfair assholes beneath their boots. It is no wonder. They are the only women I can truly respect.
I have reached almost 20,000 words in my sequel and I am very excited about it. However, I have begun reading what are considered two of the greatest fantasy fiction series of all time. Truly they make my writing look like that of a fifth grader, it disheartening but I will learn from them. Earlier this year I read the first four books of the Dark Tower series by Stephen King. I was blown away, could not put them down, and it almost killed me not to spend my last dollar for the remaining books in the series. My financial troubles have become the bane of my existence. And, it seems, I am not alone, it seems in fact that the entirety of the Unites States is with me. So I can’t complain. But that added to the last four weeks of my life means that I am still smoking a little. My mom and everyone else I know was in a constant state of total bitchiness (men and women both) but there has been a turn in the weather, quite literally. It was over eighty-five degrees here in Minnesota yesterday and I can tell you, it helped.
This year I am free.
So, my financial troubles are bothering me less. I am happier and sadder than I have ever been in my life. I am farther from suicide that I have ever been in my life but I am also closer to tears, though I am all dried up from tears, I still feel like crying every now again, though I don’t want to admit it. Because I’m happy here. No regrets and I know that that is something I have never been able to say. Through all of the unfairness that I’ve been handed and the just, out-right cruelty, I don’t want to take any of it back. That is, by itself, amazing to me. I have lived forever wanting to take everything but, my whole life, even when none of it was my fault. I don’t want to take any of it back. In fact, if I look back I will be lost. I am glad it’s over and I am so excited to move on and finally be free. I am just so relieved that I got out of it in tact, that I didn’t lose my spirit, or my soul, or my heart, I am so relieved that it’s over. That I did not compromise who I needed to stay to be happy, to be able to still respect myself in the morning. I’m still here and now I am truly free.
After I finished the first four books of the Dark Tower series by Stephen King I read the next book that I didn’t have to buy. My mom got me the first book of the series A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin. I read that first book and though I was able to hold myself back from buying the last of the Dark Tower series (because I had only forty two dollars to my name at that point) I could not hold back from buying the last three books of the series A Song of Ice and Fire. I have no doubt that it is the greatest fantasy series of all time and if you like fantasy fiction in any way you are doing yourself a grave miss-service if you do not follow the link and buy them all immediately. I have not been left so awe-struck by a book in a long time, maybe not ever and yes, of course, I have read The Hobbit and a dozen other of the greatest fantasy authors of all time. None of them compare. Follow the link, give A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin a shot. It will blow you away.
It’s been a while since I posted (yet again). I am trying to get my feet back under me from the blows of the last two weeks. I’m still walking around through some kind of fog that’s impossible to explain but we all know what it feels like. No matter how I justify everything in my head, no matter how this is even kind of a release, I am very depressed. I’m capable of getting to work on time, doing what I need to do. But, Guitar Hero? Golf? All I want to do is sit and lick this wound. It’s just too heavy to carry around when I don’t have to be doing anything.
The worst thing that happened to be in this recovery stage was that the very first weekend (during the time I wrote my last blog entry) I finished my book. Cheers, right? Woohoo. Oh yeah, yay. But, now I don’t have anything else to do. I’m so desperate I’m starting to shift my focus to the sequel. I need something so badly so I can have an escape from myself, my book was the very best thing.
I’ve already spoken to my aunt about all of it and she’s planning on starting the “on the computer line edit” of my book as soon as we finish The Talking Stick and Richard’s Sedarstrom’s second poetry book. I don’t know if I don’t you about him yet but he’s a fantastic retired professor who is, at this very moment, my favorite person to work for. What’s great about Richard is that his writing is so unbelievably clean that Sharon should have the book ready for publication within less than a week. So, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she’ll be able to start my book in no more than three weeks.
The golf course has opened, I don’t know about you but we’ve noticed that this is three weeks earlier and about thirty degrees warmer than any spring that I can remember. So, yay, an extra month of golf this year. I’ve golfed three times and I can’t tell you how good it felt and how good it was for me. Being in the club house has been healing. So many people who remember me, so many guys who are happy to see me. Makes a girl feel a little more than nothing. I needed that.
So, my book is almost there and I feel good about it. I’m biting my nails. The house, down south, is almost finished and should be on the market by August. I do plan on going back for a couple of weeks for the last finishing push but, for right now, I’m going to cross that bridge when I come to it and not think about that trip yet. Right now it’s just one day at a time for me. Thank God for a job to go to everyday and a mom and three dogs that love me without bounds. Even my brother has given me many hugs these past two weeks.
The worst blow was after Joseph left me, I tried to put a nail all the way through the bottom of my foot and then, about a week after that, my mom and I were testing golf cart batteries. We had already gone through almost half of our electric golf carts and I was leaning over the whole rack of 6, 6 volt batteries and I saw the spark. BOOM. The center battery blew up right in my face. The whole thing fucking detonated. I hit the ground, my face covered, my eyes and all of my exposed skin felt like I was on fire. I was convinced I’d lost the eye sight in my right eye, deformed for life. The thing had already swollen to the size of a golf ball. My mom grabbed me, flagged my brother down and they took turns dousing my face and eyes out of water. Then she and I both ran home and took showers to get the battery acid off of us.
To say the least I was a real girl about the whole thing. A couple golfer friends of my saw it happen and offered me two shots of Root Beer Schnapps, from there I smoke four cigarettes and simply sat there shaking for two hours. Never in my life could I have imagined that could happen, but of course, it would happen to me during the worst week of my life. Everyone tells me bad things come in threes so I guess I’m done for the year. We’ll see, I’m certainly not going to say out loud, “It couldn’t get worse! Things have to get better!” Because I’ve been saying that for five years and somehow it has always gotten worse.
So I am one beaten and battered chick, hobbling around with a bad foot and a shiner on my right eye that has taken on every conceivable color of the rainbow. Whatever part of the battery that hit my eye it was about a quarter of an inch higher than hitting my eyeball. I should be thankful, I flinched the right way, no permanent damage. And, God knows, what a hell of a story to tell anyone who asks what happened to my face. But it should heal without scarring and it’s already better. Besides all of that you know about my heavy wound I’m trying to carry around with me.
They say we right from wounds. Maybe this will improve my writing. I don’t think so. I’ll let you know as soon as I start in on the sequel again. Lots of ideas! The other the day I wrote three post-its worth of notes; the final finishing of the base outline for the second book. Wow.
Billy Collins is coming to Bemidji Minnesota this September!! WooHoo!
I am sooo excited. If you haven’t yet seen them on youtube you need to go watch These By Billy Collins. There are many to see/hear and they are absolutely incredible. I can’t wait to hear him live. And, is it just me or does he sound like Kevin Spacey when he played the serial killer in Seven? And doesn’t that just add another awesome element of dimension or what!
Stage two of The Talking Stick
Everything is in a digital file. Poetry, Creative nonfiction and fiction. There is no more scanning or typing to do (Thank God). Sharon has gone through the digital file and made as many corrections as she can there. The judges have already returned to us the first and second place finishers in all three categories. All that was left to do last Sunday night was for me to sit down and figure out how the book is going to read, which poem goes where, which story goes where. Made all the more difficult that we want to start everything that goes on to more than one page on a right hand page.
It took me four hours.
Not even kidding. Four hours. I started at 11pm and ended up still sitting there at 3am. It was the hardest book I have yet to put together in my life. It is strictly because of our standards of excellence and the fact that we’re getting more and more writing every year. That all translates into “less filler for the book.” Less easy going and blah poetry about nothing etc. We encourage and published clear-voiced pieces that are well described, as short/cut/tight as possible. And we love stuff that ends with a clear message. No, I don’t mean “Kill Hitler!” what I mean by a clear message is that there is a beginning, a middle and an end that translates into something, anything. An emotion, an idea, anything, anything at all without the writer TELLING IT TO US.
And that translates into . . .
A book that was damn hard to put together. I mean, my God, I’m not going to be caught putting a poem about baby’s dying across from a creative nonfiction that is a humorous slant on cabin life. Hell no. Everything this year was clear and imrpessive, but that means everything this year had to be very carefully handled. What a job!
But what a great job to have! I can’t believe I’m saying the quality of the work was so good it actually made my job harder. lol. What a great problem to have.
There was bad too though.
Don’t get me wrong. There is always truly horrible writing that I remain sitting with my mouth open while reading it wondering why the hell the writer thought anyone would want to read it. Half of the creative nonfiction submitted this year I crossed off (with red ink) at least the first and the last paragraphs. Simply put I eliminated the stupid back story that should start NO story (if back story is necessary and, it really shouldn’t be with a word limit of 1,000, then it should only be brought it when its relevant to the action.) and then I eliminated the part when the writer decided to tell us what we learned because of course all readers (especially editors) are too stupid to get it.
What writers don’t seem to understand.
I can imagine them. Flaunting along in tied died t-shirts in their minds as they expand their horizons and click off the editor and slip into that creative bliss where everything is genius. And then they write words that absolutely ooze like honey, thing like, “Expanded into/Void of oppressive/Convulsed noise/Weeping . . . Weeping . . . Weeping/Dreams shattered/A blink and I knew/I was alive!” Wow, really? This is the best you can do? What the hell did that even fucking mean? And, for that matter, who ever said that I cared about whether or not you felt alive? Do you understand that I don’t care? I couldn’t care less actually. You’re job as a writer is to make me give a fuck. Figure it out.
The number one rule that most “hobby” writers don’t seem to get is that writing is half creative process and half intellectual work. It seems they all throw out their brain, their working common sense, for this lofty bull shit hope that you can become a writer by writing what you think is poetic.
Most people who sit down to write a “poem” are always lacking the most important thing. Heart.
The impressive pieces, every one of them, start by the writer being inspired by an emotion. From there, not all writers create anything that’s worth reading (I can’t tell you how many pieces that we don’t put in the book but they had a great idea) the inspiration is the most creative part of it all and it does not create something worth reading. Your intellectual self, your ability to step back and allow that story to shine (or that feeling, that emotion) without ever telling us how to think, is how good writing begins. It takes clear thinking and an absolutely hated eye to get a piece cut down to the only words that matter. Very few things that I’ve read have ever reached this point of brilliant tightness and almost no creative nonfiction that I’ve seen has ever achieved this.
The ability to step back and clearly assess your own writing.
You need to be objective. So often I hear “I wrote it for a class” and I think, “Wow that must be an exciting read!” The basis of your work must be a seed that inspires you. You must have a clear and present knowing of what you are trying to achieve when you’re writing that piece. If you’re not excited about it, God knows, no reader will ever be.
I had my writers’ meeting today. It’s always so strange trying to tell people about my book. Even other writers. . . Maybe especially other writers. They hear the massive amount of numbers, the hours and hours of work, which I barely describe because I don’t want to sound like I’m gloating, and they seem to assume that it must not be much. Nobody has said that, nobody has said much of anything accept polite things, they are supportive, but it is the little they say that makes it hard. But, I think, what could they say? I mean, if someone came up to me and talked about such a massive writing project (and I hadn’t done something like Embraced by Darkness) I don’t think I would be that impressed either. I really think that I would probably not think very much it would be a, “Oh wow, that’s great! Good luck!” But I would be thinking that it is most likely crap, probably 99.9% likely to be crap.
Now, if it were something different. Something shorter, something about a girl my age, something safe; now that would make more sense. That would definitely be more in the realm of getting good responses, better encouragement. Now that would be something people could wrap their head around.
Now, I started this blog for me and for anyone who might want to know what it was like toiling through Embraced by Darkness. But I really don’t think I’ve gotten that done yet. I think you would read through my posts, get a glimpse of my every day life, and that would be cool if you didn’t know me but liked my book. And, you would get a bit of a glimpse of how this last push through Embraced by Darkness was like. You know, it’s about doubt. That’s obvious. That is number one. But if I asked you, “What was it like?” What would you say? I don’t think you would know. Not really.
So, what was it like?
And maybe that’s the point, isn’t it? I have so much trouble putting it into words. I would tell you that working on Embraced by Darkness was work. A lot of work. The great, fun, creative part of stretching and writing is such a small part of the real writing process. If you want to become a truly spectacular writer, so little of it is actual writing. So much of it is intellectual problem solving (ya know, the other part of your brain.) But that’s just the mechanics of it all. My personal experience with Embraced by Darkness was very hard but something so satisfying and challenging that I wish I could devote my life to being a writer.
But I have kept my day job. A girl’s gotta eat.
That is the most frustrating thing. Going back to being a writer, to being the writer/worker of Embraced by Darkness, has been the hardest part for me. From worrying about food, money, hell whether I can afford to even get my hair cut, finishing that next web project and, then trying to devote all of myself to my book without distraction, is some weeks, just not possible. All writers will already know this part so I am dottling again but I need you to know that besides the doubt there was always the essential frustration that I was never working on my book enough. Never going back to it enough and always wishing I was there, working on it, above all other things. So rarely did I get the opportunity where I was motivated, not trashed from the rest of the day, not exhausted from the rest of the week and with the time, to work on it.
You’re a writer. You know that time can be made.
Especially if a writer is willing to sacrifice sleep, tv and downtime. Writing had to become my obsession. Embraced by Darkness could not be work to me no matter how much it felt like work, it had to be the thing I wanted to be doing, not matter what. That was damned hard.
Especially so close to the end.
Like I am right now. So close. So few hours left for that last push. I am frustrated because I haven’t touched it for three weeks. I am hesitant because I’m afraid I’m wrong, that the book requires more work than that and I just can’t bare that consideration yet. The very idea of such a gut wrenching disappointment as it being farther from done than I think it is. Is absolutely unbearable. That’s just how it is and how it’s always going to be.
It’s in my very make up to expect the worse, to understand perfectly that my book will never be good enough. Will never be done. No matter how hard I work it is in my nature to never expect my work to be good enough.
Doubt.
So, you know about doubt. But what I haven’t told you is that the characters of this book, and the other books I’m working on, are with me always. I am often thinking of them. I rarely go a day without them. Right now, I’m working on Embraced by Darkness and, I swear to God, I see a flip of Osondrous’ blond hair out of the corner of my eye sometimes. I can almost hear what Karalay sounds like. And they come to me often and so randomly. The book I’m working on becomes a large portion of my life that no one knows about. No one could fathom the amount of time that I’ve spent with them, outside of working on the book. No one knows.
Embraced by Darkness has been my absolute satisfaction. I have taken such incredible pride and joy in working on this story. Their story. I feel privileged to have been a part of this incredible thing. No matter if anyone reads it. It doesn’t matter. I feel like I was the one chosen to write this story, to take upon this incredible undertaking, and I am very proud of that. I hope when people do read this book, if that ever happens, that they will feel that extent of respect. I feel as though the refugees of this time came to me and asked me to write their story. As terrified as I am of doing it unflinchingly and with great awareness as to their incredible strength, I know it must be written and I am the only one that this story was told to.
My mom flew down to Oklahoma for a few days and we just drove home. Miss Joseph terribly already and missed out (by only 2 days) the laying of brand new carpet throughout the majority of our house. It sucks royally, we’ve worked on that house for 3 1/2 years and that carpet was a true turning point of the finishing of the whole thing. Tough not to see it when it first went in, but I’ll live. To add insult to injury I don’t know if you’ve been around the midwest at all the past week, or even watched the news but the entirety of the midwest was hit, all of a sudden like (no one forecasted it), by a gigantic, slow, north moving storm. So, I got to drive through the whole fucking thing. 1,100 miles, 18 hours of hydroplaning and gripping the wheel like I was going to save our lives. I’m still totally exhausted two days later.
To add Insult to Injury (again)
We’ve been having some hard times in Oklahoma. We’ve been betrayed and back stabbed by someone we thought was our friend. We have been receiving threats to such an extent that I am a heart beat away from calling the police and filing a report. Joseph has bought himself a gun and has a conceal and carry license. We both live a little bit now in wait for the final conclusion to this whole thing. You may notice that I don’t sound scared. I’ve learned well in my life that the louder the asshole is and the worse the lies he claims: the bigger the pussy he actually is. And, in this case, that’s absolutely correct. Joseph and I are both waiting for him to back up his threats but neither of us expect him to ever have the balls to do it. The threats stopped for a while but the moment I left my house to drive back north he started in on threatening Joseph again.
Really? Scared of a girl, huh?
Well, I don’t blame him, if I was him, after everything that he’s said about me, I would be scared of me too. He’s attacked everything about our lives, our jobs, even our house and our loyalty to each other. He claims that our lives are horrible and that he’s amazingly happy. That he has an incredible job where he’s making a fortune compared to our measly salaries. That his house is worth twice what ours is and that includes everything that he owns, right down to his cars and his wife and child. Joseph and I are looking at each other and we have to laugh. Because if we’re so poor and our lives are so horrible when we’re actually making more money than he is, our cars are worth more, our house is worth more (and I’m not even going to get into the asshole’s excessive drug and alcohol abuse) and we have such a great relationship that we actually trust each other. Isn’t he actually saying then that our worst is not even the best that he can do? I guess it’s a good thing that he’s happy then. It’s unbelievably sad and I’ve never pitied anyone more. When we don’t reply, he thinks he’s won and we haven’t truly replied yet, not like we could. He may want to hurt us, but we can’t be so cruel as to rub our incredible fortune in finding each other into his face. I want to be that bitch but I’m just not. So Joseph and I bite our tongues and hope he’s not stupid enough to force us to pull the trigger.
So here is a toast to every lying piece of shit trailer trash that you were ever stupid enough to trust. Take it from me, if there is a creature like this in your life, arm yourself and sleep well, because everybody else knows that they’re lying dog shit too. Regardless of what they say about you. And we all know that people that deserve something wicked coming to them, always get it in the end. Get as far away as you can, because assholes like that tend to pass what they have coming right on to everything around them, especially their friends and the people that they love.
Not great for work on the book though.
Nope, been too damned busy for work on the book. I have several folks I’ve contacted through Deviantart now that are awaiting my reply about their doing a commission. But, I know the only way the commission could ever be done is if they read the book first and it’s just not ready yet! Damnit! I need to work on it and I have the changes at my left elbow just waiting for me. There actually aren’t a lot, no more than a few hours of work (and you know by now that a few hours of work for me on this beast is literally nothing in comparison to how much time I’ve already spent). But I’m just still so shot from the drive and I want a cigarette too because I feel like shit even though I’m not a smoker. (Boyfriend’s a smoker, sometimes it’s hard not to have one too.) On top of all that I have one HUGE weekend coming up.
I gotta pay the bills somehow and I’m meeting some folks I did a website design for to show them how to use it etc. I think I’m becoming more and more of the a-typical writer. I do fine with people but I loathe gatherings; they exhaust me, and after that drive all I want to do is curl up at home for two weeks and accomplish absolutely nothing.
But I’m going to try after I write this!
I am going to work on my book at least a little today before my mom gets home from work. Tonight my aunt is coming over and we’re having my Minnesota birthday party after my golden birthday (turned 24 on the 24th of February) in Oklahoma. First time I was without my mom on my birthday, I love her and it was tougher than I thought it would be. Weird how when everything in your life either dies or changes how we revert back to the kids in us and just want our moms on our birthdays. I certainly did.
My aunt (Sharon), my mom (Marilyn), and I are all on the Editorial board for The Talking Stick again this year. Mom just as a substitute in case one of the other three people on the board can’t make it, or to be the deciding vote on something the five of us can’t agree on. It’s a good job and we all like it despite the massive amount of work. Over 160 writers submitted this year (most of them at least 3 things) and the stack of submissions looks like over a ream of paper. Insane and cool. After my birthday dinner and maybe some presents (lol, that’s a real joke, my family would never let anybody go without presents on their birthday, sometimes I feel like a spoiled brat, but then I remember.) we’re going to sit down and compare notes like we usually do before the big meeting when we decide what to put in the book. It helps refresh our memories on everything and think about what’s going to the judges this year too.
It’s a gigantic job but I like it every year and I’m always proud to be a part of it.
Well, I don’t blame him, if I was him, after everything that he’s said about me, I would be scared of me too. If you look close at anyone who has ever tried to deface you I’m certain you will see the jealousy behind it all. He says every horrible thing he can about our lives, our jobs, even the very place we live and our own integrity and loyalty. He claims this is the lowest point we’ve ever been in in our lives and that’s he’s amazingly happy. That’s he’s got an incredible job where he’s making a fortune. That his house is worth twice what ours is and that includes everything that he owns, right down to his cars and his wife and child. Joseph and I are looking at each other and we have to laugh. Because, if this is the lowest point in our lives but we’re actually making more money than the asshole, our cars are worth more, our house is worth more, everything we’re doing is what we chose to do and we’ve been loyal because we love each other (and I’m not even going to get into comparing the asshole’s drug and alcohol habits), isn’t he also saying then that our worst is not even the best that he can do? I guess it’s a good thing that he’s happy then because he thinks this is the top. I’m laughing but it’s sad and it’s quite pitiful. Especially when, when we don’t reply to his threats, he thinks it’s because he’s proved us wrong and that he’s won. When, in all actuality, his statements are so absurdly stupid that they usually aren’t even worth dignifying with a reply.
I’m looking for a cover designer for my book. I officially have a plan but it cannot begin until I have a fabulous cover for Embraced by Darkness. I have queried several artists I found through DeviantArt (my old stomping grounds) and have made some progress. One fantastic artist told me she does commissions for free but I sense she is suspecting something different than what I am going to throw at her. Most excellent digital artists on DeviantArt get commissions to do profiles sketches of fantasy-sci-fi game characters/not a big job in comparison to what I want on my book cover. After I get the cover done for my book I officialy have a plan.
That’s right – I have a plan.
The plan starts with me not being humble at all. I am a web designer and I know how to get to first page Google within two months. I also know how to create a website that sells. These things I have not considered thoroughly enough as being assets for selling becoming a published novelist. I came upon a pdf file of some poor writer who self-published through lulu and failed miserably (several times) the end of the pdf was that she was finally happy with her book covers and she sold a couple a month etc. I looked at her website and her book covers and could not believe she sold any a month. It also just so happens that I’ve been an editor and layout/print designer for eight years. Funny how until I read that pdf that none of this became very obvious to me. I have the experience in the industry to already know not to make the mistakes that she made. I also have enough experience in the industry that I know most people buy books online these days.
That’s right – Most people buy books online now.
Book stores are barely surviving. I know this because I’ve been in the industry close enough, for long enough, that most people buy online these days. And most of them buy used books from Amazon (if they’re smart - I just bought a used Stephen King book for 1 cent yesterday).
On top of all of that my writers’ group (The Jackpine Writers’ Bloc) has several ISBNs more than they will ever need and are willing to give me one for free for my book. On top of that my aunt happens to be the most incredibly thorough editor I have ever seen and she’s already told me she would edit my book for me. Take note on my last sentence because on top of everything else I think this kind of editing is really what separates the shitty self published books from the publishing company books. Because of the cover, my layout design and Sharon’s professional editing. My book will not look self published but professionally finished. Also if I publish through Lulu with an ISBN I can use their marketing tools for free and that means: A Free Amazon Listing.
So Far I’ve Only Spent $15
That’s right. Only $15 and that’s for the domain registration because we have our own server and that means free hosting for me. Does it seem a little like I haven’t utilized the tools that have been given to me in the past? You’re damned right. But, I also haven’t had a finished book in the past so regardless of what I’m capable of: I won’t push or try to sell a book I’m not proud of. But now, if you haven’t noticed, I’m just about done with my book and I have the time and I can afford $15 to get my website up.
So, Here’s the Plan.
- Register the domain embracedbydarkness.com ($15)
- Commission an incredible bad-ass cover. ($?)
- Get my aunt to edit my book for me. ($?)
- Use the cover graphics to create a stunning website at the domain. ($0)
- Launch the book on lulu (with lulu marketing) and the website ($0)
- Pay per click advertising on Facebook using bad ass cover ($?)
- Pay for banner advertising on DeviantArt using bad ass cover for 1 to forever ($20 per month)
Now, a couple of things I already have wrong that you may point out. First off, I really need to get my book on lulu and get lulu marketing going ASAP long before I do anything else (besides getting my domain name) because lulu marketing (getting my book in amazon listings etc.) can take up to eight weeks and I would really rather have all of the finished and set before I start paying for advertising. Regardless though, I won’t put my book up in lulu until the cover is finished so that’s priority #1 and, God knows, I’ve got absolutely no money. So, as I hope that someone may give me a commissioned cover for free, I know that that is really far fetched.
Wondering why I chose Deviantart Ads?
I bought Banner Advertising through Deviantart years ago when I was selling photography prints (or trying to). I sold a few but that wasn’t the point. The point was that I got over a thousand clicks a day for only $20 a month. It was impressive. And the Deviantart people are my kind of people. Most of them are fantasy gamers that are very much so online rats like the rest of us. In other words, the people on DA are the kind of people who would buy a fantasy book online, and God knows they would notice bad ass cover graphics in an ad and fucking click on it to take them to my even more bad ass website.
Meanwhile, I’m still working on Embraced by Darkness
I finished the first thorough read through and then speed read through the book again cutting and cutting and cutting. Last time I updated my blog the book was over 170,000 words now its down to about 163,000. That’s still not good enough for me. I am determined to cut the book down to at least 150,00 but if I could get it under 150,00 than I believe I’ll have a real something that I could sell to an agency or a publishing company.
But I’m not just cutting thoughtlessly: with every cut I am trying to improve the book. I am reading a book right now (because despite that I am pouring everything I’ve got into my own book I am always reading something besides) called Getting Into Character by Brandalinn Collins. It’s a book focusing on what a novelist can learn from actors on how to develop three dimensional characters. It’s really got me thinking and I’ve been jotting notes down while I read it in bed as I get ideas to change Embraced by Darkness, especially Osondrous, and make it more clear and focused.
I can’t tell you how much I look forward to being able to start a book from scratch. I have learned so much from having to go through this monster so many times. I know one thing for certain: I never want to have to do this again. Any book I write from here on out I am going to have a concise and very clear plan from start finish, from scene to scene. I will never write willynilly again. My boyfriends been joking, “At this point you could have just re-written the whole thing and not had so much damned editing and cutting to do.” Very depressingly, but at this point, he’s right. But there’s no going back now.
Meanwhile. Once the book is done. As you might imagine. I am going to be sending out to every Fantasy/Sci-fi agent I can find. Hopefully, somewhere, I am going to be noticed. What really terrifies me is that I better start working on the sequel.
I started this blog entry the night before last, after I had spent several hours looking for scfi-fi/fantasy places to be published and I still had part 4 of my book to go through. I felt good and I was so enthused that I named the blog post “Actual Hope” though I got nothing else written in it. I found eight places (mostly magazines) that pay and accept scfi-fi/fantasy stories. I’m excited about it and have already sent off one of my short stories for consideration. I have plans to work on four more and get those sent off as soon as possible. I’ll be so excited if just one of them gets accepted. What’s really neat is that most of them urge for novel excerpts so I’m already working on pulling some stories out of The Death of Eliana and I’m working on the same for Embraced by Darkness. For some reason all of this has made me feel pretty good. I’ve also bought some cheap back issues of most of the places; research is a must.
Meanwhile I also found seven different scfi-fi and fantasy publishing companies that accept unsolicited submissions. Woot! Though I know the reaction I’m probably going to get from all of them. “Your book’s too damn long. We can’t publish anything over 120 thousand words.” Still, knowing that those publishing houses are out there, looking for books like I want to write, and being willing to take unagented submissions is pretty fucking awesome.
And I have been working on my book. I said in the beginning of this post that the night before last I was down to Part 4 – the end of the book. If you can believe it, I’m feeling pretty good about how the whole thing is reading. There was some doubt throughout the beginning of the book and, of course, I need to work on those places. But, last night, I finished it.
I finished the first complete read-through after putting my book back together!
Without a doubt, the last half of my book is a better read than the first half. I’m hoping I can cut even more but as it stands the book is now down to 173,052 from 236,743 when I started this last push a few months ago. That’s sixty thousand words that I’ve managed to cut. My boyfriend has taken to teasing, “How much did you delete of all your hard work today? Did it go well?” And I’ll say, “Oh yeah, I just love slaughtering it!” But, the truth of the matter is, that I’m actually not deleting any real substance from the book. Any real writer will know that what I’m doing is just improving what’s already there.
I literally sit and think, “How can I say that in less words?”
The biggest hardship I ran into in this last read through is that, because Karalay’s story is shorter, things were happening for her way before they were spurred to happen for the other characters. I.E. Karalay was reacting to Osondrous becoming queen before she actually became queen. Now, I know a lot of books do that deliberately and there was a part of me that wanted to leave it because the book was so happy and organized as it was. But, I decided, that because of the scope and size of my book, I needed to help my readers out and keep my three characters as close to the same time line as I could. So I had to change my method in Part 1 of the book.
If you’ve been keeping up with my blog posts than you know that I decided to break the book into four parts and omit chapters all together. In each part of the book I ended up going from Osondrous to Karalay to Jezaline to Osondrous to Karalay to Jezaline and then moved on to the next part. But because of Karalay’s shorter story and the fact that she HAD to end my book and the fact that she was the main character in my Epilogue I decided to pull half of her story out of Part 1 and move all of her story down. So Part 1 is now going from Osondrous to Jezaline to Osondrous to Karalay to Jezaline and then moving on to Part 2. See diagram. None of the other Parts have changed but I feel this was necessary and the fact of the matter is, no one reading the book is going to care or notice.
I want to cut more.
It’s painful and it’s true. I need to cut more and I want to cut more. There are two places in the book I hope I can slice more of it out, maybe not more than a few thousand words but if I can get the book down into the hundred and sixty thousand word area I think it will look better. Really anything shorter than it is now will look better to publishers.
But I’m not going to start cutting rashly. I’m going to read through it, one more time, and cut as I go. I hate to say it, and it does pain me quite a bit, but the truth of the matter is the places I’m thinking of cutting are out of Jezaline and Karalay’s stories which is pretty frustrating because Osondrous has the most words in the book. But, as I’m typing this I am thinking of a place in Osondrous’ story too that I noticed. When I read through it again I really hope I can cut them down without mercy and maybe “crosses fingers” even cut another ten thousand words out of the book.
So, wish me luck!
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