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

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 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.

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!

It’s that time of the year again. The Jackpine Writers’ Bloc put out its call for submissions for The Talking Stick Volume 19 on January 1st. For those of you writers who are either from Minnesota, or have a close connection to the area, you should consider submitting. Winning prizes for each of the three categories (Fiction, Creative nonfiction and Poetry) is $500 and for second place it is $100. Not to mention all pieces that get chosen are read and critiqued by our fantastic celebrity judges. And there is no reading fee to submit.

Submission Guidelines

I both look forward to and loathe this time of the year. It’s always fun to be on the Editorial Board. When Sharon and I took over the work of The Talking Stick, our only condition was that we could always be on the Editorial board to choose the submissions every year. Without a doubt, it is the most enjoyable part of the process. On top of that, neither one of us wanted to have to work on a book for the rest of the year when we didn’t have a say as to what was being published or sent to the judges.

So, I’m on the Editorial Board again this year. The call for submissions ends March 1st so the five members on the Editorial Board will meet in March some time to determine what gets put in the book. It’s a long day for us. We’re given the submissions to read a week or two before we meet and just getting the submissions read through two or three times is the biggest job. Just imagine one to five submissions from nearly two hundred writers ranging anywhere from one page to fifteen pages each. Big job. But, I look forward to it every year. It’s wonderful to read other peoples writing, though, I admit, I don’t give the poor writers much of a chance.

I can’t help it. Last year, the fiction was gaggingly difficult to read. Fiction, every year, is always the poorest category. I have less and less tolerance for obvious mistakes that should be corrected before submitting. I just can’t believe that we, as editors, are offered so little respect that we’re sent works that were obviously never even read through a second time. Have writers no shame? No dignity? No consideration for the people that want to publish them?

And my biggest, deepest pet peeve, is the complete lack of respect of writers to even bother reading our submission guidelines. We literally have hundreds of works submitted by hundreds of writers to wade through – the submission guidelines are there to make our lives easier. For anyone here that is considering submitting to The Talking Stick, know this: You’re work will be thrown out  if you do not follow our submissions guidelines.

The worst thing you can do to an editor is vary from the default fonts of every Word Processor. Times, or Arial, will help you get published. Don’t use any other kind of font.

I’m going to go back to the subject of reading Fiction. I am apprehensive to attack the Fiction and it grows worse every year. I use to really try, sit down with every story and try to find the good. I’m no longer like that. Because I have become a fiction writer and it is my passion, I have absolutely no tolerance for stupid mistakes. I often wonder, don’t writers ever read? Because, so often when I’m reading terrible Fiction, the biggest mistake that is pointed out to me is the complete lack of knowledge. Sentence structure, story structure. A complete lack of Writing basics. Don’t writers ever read? And that leaves me even more ticked because it becomes obvious, with the very worst stories, that these writers don’t think they need to read. Don’t think they need to learn any kind of writing basics. They actually believe that their work is so incredible that they have nothing to learn.

Well, they have nothing worth publishing then either.

I’m sounding very cold-hearted. Fair enough. I am being cold-hearted but only because I am one of the other writers. The writer who has gone to every class, read every Pulitzer prize winning novel, tried to become a better writer, and year after year respected the craft and never submitted anything with so much as a single spell check error. Never submitted anything that hadn’t had hours of my blood, sweat and tears, poured into it. These other writers, aren’t writers in my opinion. These folks who think they can sit down and whip something up. These writers who half-ass it, not bothering even so much to learn what “Story Structure” means. They make the rest of us look bad.

Creative Nonfiction.

If there is one category we put off reading year after year. It is Creative nonfiction. As much as I loathe crappy fiction there is nothing worse than wading through hundreds of the most boring creative nonfiction you can imagine. Don’t get me wrong, there is good fiction and creative nonfiction in the book every year (works that are worth publishing). But, where the one main mistake fiction writers commit every year is not even knowing fiction writing basics, creative nonfiction writers make the mistake of writing something no one else can stay awake reading. In other words, writing something no one else could give a rats ass about. So often, we get memoir writing and not creative writing in any way. Where that writers family may get a kick out of that particular piece, the rest of us, who don’t know who Uncle Harry is, could give a rat’s ass. So, year after year, we all have loathed reading the creative nonfiction to such an extent that we finally reduced the word count by several hundred. Hallelujah! I’m actually looking forward to it this year because of that.

The most difficult choice. Print quality writing or a quality story?

It is the most difficult choice and it is getting worse by the year. Publish a boring, crap story that was written well or publish the terribly written decent story that kept us reading despite the sentence mistakes? It is a very hard choice. And this is usually where we have out biggest arguments on the Editorial Board. Where one person liked that story because she has a puppy too the rest of the Editorial Board is shaking there heads because they won’t be caught publishing such poor writing. That is my biggest problem with all editors. Not enough of them read without bias but instead, publish those crappy, poorly written stories about two years because they too, have a toddler. I refuse to be that editor. In the end, because I value quality writing above all else, I vote to throw everything else out and just hope, every year, that there will be enough pieces that combine good story along with good writing. Because this is about words. Good words.

So I’m working through the final line edit of my monster book. And I am plagued. It feels so much like the longer I work on this the more I doubt my decisians, myself, my writing, my book.

Rejection

I’ve been dealing with a lot of rejection lately. Where I thought I was a shoe in to at least get a couple of short stories and poems published this year. They were all rejected. All of them.

The rejections are hard. Probably the hardest part of being a writer and the most absolute part of being a writer. You will be rejected; constantly. I know I am a decent writer. I know what I’ve submitted this year and in the past have been solid writing. However, I have come up against the wall of Minnesota. The wall that says, “We just don’t want what you write.” I can’t tell you how many times I have been rejected and then later met and the editor and I thought, “No wonder.” They didn’t want what I’m writing.

My writing is too cutting edge, too hard core, too in your face, too rock. And it always will be. In Minnesota what gets published again and again are vacation stories. Inspirational stories. Stories about working on your little log cabin. Stories written by baby boomers. I am rejected before I even start.

So do I change my writing?

Do I write the cutesy shit that makes me gag so I get published?

Do I pretend I’m a Grandma who remembers being taught how to cook from her grandma? Or a grand daughter who just can’t believe how sweet her daughter is? Do I pretend to find God in mere coincidence so someone will publish me? Do I pretend how amazing the water was on the lake last night even though it’s the same fucking water it’s always been?

I’m angry. I’m annoyed. I am hearing the same advice and truth I’ve given other writers a million times.

Good writing doesn’t get published. What the Editor likes gets published.

I am at a loss. You want to believe that if you work hard enough than you will get published. But that’s just not how it is. Day in and day out I am facing rejection. I am facing people telling me that my work is too realistic, too scary, too goth, too hard core, not sweet enough. How often have I seen people grimace with distaste not at my writing but at my story? How many times has my writing been so good that I have made people creeped out and even feel hate for one of my characters? Shouldn’t that be a good thing? The worst thing I can think of is that people would call my work “boring”. And yet, I’m getting rejected, while the most boring shit I’ve ever read is getting published. God forbid anyone publish something that pushes the envelope.

No one wants to read a hard story these days. I was sitting at a family gathering the other day and heard several adults there talking about how much they hate Stephen King’s books and how they only like books like Harry Potter and the Narnia series. I couldn’t say anything because what I would say to that would be nothing good.

Twilight.

I’m going to use the Twilight books as a comparison to what I would never do. Did I think the Twilights were okay? Of course, I’m a girl, who couldn’t love Edward? But by the last book I couldn’t stand them anymore. Not for the story but for the terrible disrespect of the story and the characters.

I guess I’ve been reading too many Pulitzer prize winning books. God knows, Twilight doesn’t compare. In fact Twilight looks like shit in comparison to Gilead (Marilyn Robinson) and the many other fantastic books that are out there to read today. I’ve come to the final realization of the major difference between the writer of the Twilight Series and the writer of Gilead and Good Housekeeping.

It’s About Respect.

When you read a book like Gilead you feel as though you are getting a real glimpse to a real person’s existence. You do not become the character, instead, you see the character. You see them in all of their incredible imperfections. In all of their grief and tragedy. In all of their triumphs and in their deaths. In the Twilight series, from the first sentence, it reads like fake fiction. The main character is an idiot. Stupid, one dimensional, shockingly unrealistic. Written in this way so the reader will become the main character. Written so the main character never rocks the boat, never makes a decision the reader wouldn’t like. never becomes a real person.

Gilead is an incredible show case of an author writing a story with unflinching respect for the main character and the decisions he must make, regardless of who doesn’t like it. Stephen King does this in all of his books as well. They are entirely character and story driven. You don’t become the character, you become their shadows. You follow them through all of their terrible and great days. And you stand in awe as the author lets those character make their decisions. And the author writes their stories without ever interrupting. Instead they read as though the authors don’t exist. It’s just the character, it’s just the story. And that is incredible to me.

Something like Twilight simply pisses me off. Where there is incredible writing in the world today, it’s a series like Twilight that the world wants to read. Regardless of good writing. No one gives a rat’s ass. The world wants a quick fix that they won’t have to think about, that won’t interfere or bother their little lives in anyway.

And Then There’s Me.

I don’t want to write a one dimensional, unrealistic, idiotic character that people can be. I want to write about a realistic, multi-dimensional person that people can see. I don’t want to write the easy stories. I don’t want to write boring shit that people forget. So, that makes me an absolute reject.

I want to be the writer of a Clockwork Orange and Animal Farm and Farenheit 451 of my generation. But I don’t think anyone will ever publish me to give me the chance. So I keep writing. I keep working. And I do hope that I will find the agent that appreciates this kind of writing. One day. I guess we’ll see.