The blog of fantasy fiction author and writer Tarah L. Wolff

I received an email from my editor last night that absolutely made my day, “I have just finished Part Two.  Boy, that Waltruk was an ugly sucker.  Now I am in it.  Now I am involved.  I really liked the longer sentences, the longer discussions in this part.” I knew my book was a very large swallow starting off, no matter what, and my editor has confirmed that with her comments over the past week as she got through part one and part two. I kept hoping, crossing my fingers, that once she finished part two she would understand. This email made my heart soar. I went back to my book instantly and read 3/4s of it in two days! It’s been awhile since I had even looked at Embraced by Darkness. When I’m away from it for a few days, or even weeks, I start thinking that it is simply shit. But, I read it again and it was like reading something that could truly become popular. Something sharp and well cut. Something that showed a writer who truly gave a damn when she was writing it. I hope with all of my heart that someone else will think that too someday.

Choices

I’m in a bit of a conundrum here. I’ve talked about this before but I simply do not know what to do. I need advice: very specific advice, and have no one to ask. I want to get a grant so I can hire someone to produce an incredible cover for my book, so I can finish it and give it a gorgeous website and then truly advertise the hell out of it and promote it myself. However, I am concerned, what if this could hurt my chances in acquiring a publisher or an agent? I would like to think that if I can sell a few thousand copies of my book, than wouldn’t that be a good thing? Wouldn’t a publisher or agent be more interested in me then?? I don’t know who to ask this question to and I am concerned.

On top of that

I just read from a very reputable writer (who writes fantastic free articles for writers) that you really shouldn’t even consider sending out to agents or publishers until you have every book written that will be included in the series that you’re selling. So, that means I should really have the sequel to Embraced by Darkness written as well. I am 30,000 words into it but the task of taking it on and writing it is just not something I do not have time for in the summer. Especially not this summer. So, that is something that is obviously making me lean toward just publishing and promoting the first Embraced by Darkness myself.

Cart before the horse

My wonderful editor still has to finish going through my book before I should even be considering this stuff. So, it is going to probably be two or even three months (realistically, I know I haven’t always been realistic with my time-lines, maybe that’s why I’m always disappointed?) She needs to finish reading it first and she has her own very busy life to deal with, not to mention she’s doing this for free because she’s my wonderful and very loving aunt. I will keep you updated on her progress

Ads

I am determined to someday make some money off of all of this time I spend on my blogs. I now have my Recipe blog as well as this one. I have Google Adsense on both blogs now and I have included a cool book widget from Amazon now in the right hand column here. I think that it is really cool. Now everyone can see my all time favorite books without having to ask

Please, don’t think I expect to actually make money on either this or my recipe blog. I am simply not that naive. But, I have been working on trying to come up with a blog of some kind that could truly make me some money. I always come up with ideas for things I know nothing about because that’s obviously the blog I would go to and enjoy learning something from. I took a step back and started focusing on what I know; what I can teach someone.

Web Design Workshop

That led me back to an idea I’ve had for awhile about putting on a one day “Become a Web Designer” workshop in my local hometown to make a few bucks. I’ve been brain storming about this all summer and it never occurred to me to make a website out of this workshop. Why not?

So, the next website you’re going to see from me is a total and complete devotion to my teaching the newbies what they need to know to become web designers (at least to some extent). It’s going to be very large and take me a lot of time to propagate with all the info that I want to add. It’s also going to include a blog that I will try to update at least monthly with new thoughts as well as a new entry for each new web design that I do. I hope to give people a literal walk through of my own web design process. Full tips and tricks. But, mostly, a basic layout and step by step guide beginning with acquiring a domain name. I will let everyone here know first when I finally get it up and running.

Portfolio.Tarahlynn.com

Some of you may have noticed a broken link over in my navigation called portfolio. When I was sending out resumes last year (to absolutely no avail) I ran into several companies who wanted to see an online resume/portfolio. So, that is something I hope to have finished and up ASAP. I have wanted a place for my photos, all of my web designs and book designs for a very long time, so this is something I am excited about and I think it will be a good step for me professionally. So, check back soon!

Well, I’m home. Just got here a couple of hours ago. I left yesterday and I remain in awe at how time is and how we remember it. I left 3pm yesterday, a long time, but only a blink, the drive is just a blur and it feels like I’m just pulling away from our house. Eleven hundred miles and none at all. I hate the way we remember things. I hate so many things right now that I can barely breathe. I have a lot to be glad about, a lot to be thankful for. But yesterday was the worst day of my life. Too many people I will never see again. Too many tears that were so deep I had to pull over because I simply lost the ability to breathe. I wanted nothing more than to turn around after I left and go back to our house.

This is a memory I will always keep and it will always be held in the fist of the shocking, oppressive heat that has been clutching Oklahoma for the past week. When I think of driving away the last time, it will be entirely soaked in sweat. When I think of signing the papers for my house to go on the market, it will be with the sun blaring down, becoming an intruder that feels like it’s trying to kill me. When I kissed Joseph for the last time, it will be with the salty taste of sweat, covering the taste of our tears.

Five years of my life, my “home”, all gone in a heart beat. It’s funny how, as a writer, I am a realistic, insightful, absurdly creative person, yet I never imagined it would be like this. I had no idea, no way to prepare myself. I am used to being prepared. I am never blindsided. Never played the fool. Yet here I am. Feeling like a fool.

Sharon has my book (see, look at how easy I changed the subject and pity me at how quickly I go back to it) she wrote me an email two days ago saying how she can’t read my monster right before bed at night because she ends up having the craziest dreams and getting no rest at all. I’m actually smiling at that. I told her, “You wonder why I’m an insomniac I’ve got that stuff going through my head twenty-four hours a day!” Of course that’s not true.

The truth is my books are my only real distraction. Driving up I suddenly realized an important piece of dialogue that I want in my sequel. Funny how even through all of this there is always a piece of my brain working on one of my books all of the time. No matter what. Suddenly the sweat shop gals who are working so silently hard on my book, in a windowless corner of my brain, pipe up  and say, “We’ve got something, check it out!”

What keeps me up at night is not my imagination but always my heart. Regret. Anger. Grief. This is what keeps me up at night. In that order. I am a writer. I feel too much. Too hard. Too fast. And, as my mother puts it, I am absurdly loyal. I simply am not emotionally capable of leaving someone behind. I’ve had to do it for five years in this long distance relationship, time and time again. And, yesterday, permanently. It just doesn’t work in my brain. I don’t understand how to go on having left someone behind me. I literally just do not know what to do. I am sick with grief. I am upset beyond words. There is an entire continent within me that lies in shock at the mere fathom of trying to move on having left without him. I always wanted to take him with me, with or without our relationship; or kids; or marriage; or any of that fucking bull shit. I just couldn’t leave someone I loved behind.

His choice. Yeah, I know. Say it again for me, it hasn’t sunk in yet, maybe it will this time. He wants you to leave him alone so he can move on and find misses-fucking-better-than-you. You know this. Yes, I know this. Say again. Yes, I know this, and I know I deserve better than not to move on right at this moment. But, ya know, that continent inside of me that doesn’t know what the fuck to do now, that is actually lying quivering on the floor in shock? So? How can you say so? That continent is the majority of my emotions. So? Fuck you. That’s not very nice, right now you’re actually having an argument with yourself, if he doesn’t want you, if he wants so badly for you to abandon him (the chick that anybody would want on their team) then why don’t you? Why don’t you just give him what he wants? I don’t want him to get hurt, he’s a sweetheart, he’s had it rough; he’s my best friend; he has the worst luck in the world and I don’t want him to be alone. He can always call you, God knows you’ll always pick up the phone and be there for him. It’s not the same, you remember. Yeah, I know what you said to him when you held his head against your heart, you said, “This is where I will always keep you.” Nothing is stopping you from that. But it’s where he belongs. Than, if that’s true, he’ll learn that the hard way. I don’t want him to have to, I understand the hard way now; it’s no way to live. Well, there isn’t a part of you, not even this one, that can blame you for that. But you know that that is not how it’s going to happen. Yeah, I know, he’ll find somebody. Sure he will, but you can still keep him there, the him that was then, the him that you once had, you can remember that Joseph even after he forgets. I can’t even handle the consideration of knowing that that is all I have left. I just can’t do that yet. You will with time. I know, I hate time. Everyone does.

Yeah, I got that inner dialogue typed all the way out didn’t I? Today, six hours from home (after a terrible night trying to sleep) I almost fell asleep at the wheel. I went to a gas station and bought what I could to get home. I drank a five hour energy, washed it down with a red bull, took three ibuprofen, washed them down with a red bull and then lit a cigarette. I was able to keep going, I was able to get home. Everything looks like it’s missing something. But I did get home. If I can do that, I can still get up tomorrow, at least. One step at a time, right?

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.

I’m not a smoker. Having said that, I do smoke sometimes. But always in the worst of times, usually when I am so angry all I can see is rage and all I can hear is my heart beat. The worst the days ever got to was a 4 cigarette day. I had a day this week that was a 7. And though I have only bought myself 1 pack of cigarettes in my whole life, and only smoked a couple to stay awake on a hard drive and then gave them away, this week I bought my own pack. That pack is already gone.

This was the worst week of my life.

I can only laugh at myself for the foolishness of thinking five years ago “next year will be better!” And then four years ago, “Next year has to better, how could life be worse?” And the mantra had continued, every year my parents went through the divorce, my mother slipped further into financial ruin, the house he and I bought for a “quick remodel” remained unfinished and I remained separated half the year by a 1,000 miles from the man that I loved. How could ever next year be any worse?

It just wasn’t possible.

That’s what I thought last year. I honestly believed that this year: 2010 would be a better year. A year to end the many wars that we’ve been fighting for so long. The year to become unshackled; when all the costs and tears that we paid would finally be justified. What’s so fucked up is that that is still right but in all the wrong ways.

My boyfriend has set me free.

I haven’t blogged the past week because I had no words. I honestly considered not telling you, letting you know about my book that life is hard etc. But that would have been a lie. How can I not tell you the future I had worked so hard for now no longer exists? How can I try to pretend that this wont affect me as a writer?

The book I’m reading now (the 4th book of the Dark Tower series by Stephen King) has a force in it that they call Ka. Could be God, could be fate, whatever, doesn’t matter, they believe in it so that makes it real. The doomed girl, the gorgeous lover who would never see her 17th birthday was spoken to once by her father before his death. He told her that Ka is like the wind, nothing can stop it and it will blow your whole life away in an instant, regardless of your desires, your plans or your screams.

I have been blown away.

I traveled for three days in a state of disbelief. Of all the fights, of all the good times and the bad, honestly, I never thought that he would do this to me. Truthfully, I thought it would be the other way around up until just a few weeks ago. I made the commitment to him in my heart. Made the commitment that was far deeper and important for me, something he may have never known about. The commitment did not change our lives together. But it did change who I was. I was no longer the doubter or the girl who feared regret. I made the decision (and it took years) to truly try to change for him, to no longer wonder, no longer doubt, ever. I made the decision to stay with him for better or worse.

If you’ve ever been in love you know that this happens and it is despite your actions. Some people marry, some people love without ever truly stepping into this kind of commitment-or not needing to. But, when it happens, there is a peace that follows. A relief that the decision had been made and the shocking truth that it is, somehow, something you can live with and not the end of the world or the chance for regret. Taking the leap: no fucking regrets no matter what.

I regret

trying so hard that I had taken myself to that place of commitment. I regret with all of my being. Being there was being blind, was being certain, was having faith in something I should have known was coming. But, of course, I didn’t, I let myself kneel down in the middle of the highway and was surprised when I was hit by a semi. Love makes you certain. Commitment makes you certain.

Of all the things I doubted (us not wanting the same things, blah, blah, blah), all those things that I had worked through and stayed. He got to them much later than me and he couldn’t stay. A part of me respects him. He’s doing what I didn’t have the courage for. Or, at least, not yet. A part of me is proud of him because I know he had to come a long way to get here. I was along for the journey, fuck how I know how far. When I met him he wouldn’t have been capable of this. I know him and I know who he was better than anyone else who has ever thought they knew him. He wouldn’t have been capable then of seeing himself so clearly, his life so clearly. He wouldn’t have been capable of saying, “I need to go out and figure out who I am. I’ve never been free to make a single choice for myself.” And that’s the same thing I’ve been saying since the beginning.

The very same. Taste the fucking irony.

Oh but I hate him. As much as I understand, I hate him for leaving me. And, the house isn’t quite done and God knows how long it will take to sell, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to see it. We’re a modern couple. I’m going back in a few weeks to a town that I hate worse then I ever knew I could hate anything, to finish that dog damned house. With him. If there was any chance that this was going to be the quick rip off of a band-aid, it certainly wasn’t right now, before the house sold. There is a huge part of me that wants to get on with my life and I can’t yet. I am doomed to many weeks of certain grief.

I’ve cried so many times for this moment when it’s been so close in the past, I guess I just don’t have anything left to weep. But I want to. I want to cry so badly my chest aches constantly.

I feel like a dead star.

He’s changed his status on Facebook to “It’s Complicated” I can’t yet bring myself to change mine to “Single” I wonder when I’m going to do that. When is the time? Do you stop grieving first or find someone to help you forget? Every part of my life has him in it. Everything. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have someone leave you if you were married and sharing a house full time together. Right now I can just pick up a few things and make the last drive back to Minnesota; where my real home always was. And maybe that’s what destroyed us in the end. My home was never with him. I want to believe that, want to have something concrete to say “this is why” but the truth is Joseph’s facebook status “It’s complicated”. But it is concrete, we want different things. We’re perfect for each other, we are best friends that share everything but we want different everythings. And that’s the end of the story.

If only it were that simple.

In the end I feel betrayed, rejected, unwanted and stabbed in the back by the person I had come to depend upon the most. These are normal I think but knowing that the relationship I had with Joseph, something I thought of as so unique and special, has been degraded down to “its normal” may be the hardest thing of all. Every one thinks their relationships are special. Maybe I’m just an ignorant fucking kid with her head in the clouds. He told me tonight, tried to argue, “We are special. I never want you out of my life. You’re my best friend, think of everything you and I walked away from still friends.” But these feelings I’m having are not special. They are normal and they are black as hell. Tomorrow I’m going to buy myself another pack of cigarettes and think again of what I did tonight. Watched the Sex and the City movie with my mom, now single, my aunt, now also single: two women who have been destroyed by men more times than I can count. With one phone call from him, I have now joined them. It is the saddest thing I have ever experienced. There was no holy dark tonight and I can’t see there ever being any holy in my life again.

But I want to tell you something that happened to me three days ago. You know my outline for my book has been sitting on my desk all this time. The changes I needed to make on the last read through. Maybe just for the sake of doing something other than sitting and being sick with tragedy (I never thought I would be able to actually get any writing done) I picked up that outline and went back to my Embraced by Darkness. For the first time since the entire truly horrible week; His face slipped away. He wasn’t in those pages. The one thing that wasn’t entwined with him in my entire life was my life’s work, my Embraced by Darkness.  The book that I began writing to escape my lonely and hard life as a girl was the book I escaped to again in my lonely and hard days as a woman. I am saved in no way. But that book was my salvation through the last of the worst of days (surely next year will be better, it has be, what could be worse than this?) It was written by me and in it, I found me, alone and still somehow, breathing through the pain.

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.

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.

1. Register the domain embracedbydarkness.com ($15)
2. Commission an incredible bad-ass cover. ($?)
3. Get my aunt to edit my book for me. ($?)
4. Use the cover graphics to create a stunning website at the domain. ($0)
5. Launch the book on lulu (with lulu marketing) and the website ($0)
6. Pay per click advertising on Facebook using bad ass cover ($?)
7. 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.