I signed my first print autograph recently … and promptly spent the rest of the afternoon dancing in my seat. My coworkers probably thought I had ants in my pants.
One of my coworkers bought a copy of DIVA IN THE DUGOUT and brought it to the office for me to sign. Such a thrill!
It was the first time I’d seen the print version. I ordered copies for the RITA judges, but had them shipped directly to RWA HQ to beat the early deadline so I’d have a chance to win either an iPad or conference registration. I haven’t ordered my own print copies yet.
Soon, though. I’m headed to the Chocolate Affaire in Glendale in February, and am taking DIVA to sign.
It looks great, by the way. Can’t wait to get a copy for my keeper shelf!
Actually, I’m not sure if it’s just that the universe is talking or if I’m just more inclined to listen now that I’ve made the decision to take the self-publishing plunge.
Or maybe it’s really true that Sedona’s hippy-dippy, woo-woo psychic energy vortex has finally wormed its way into the fabric of my daily life.
Whatever the reason, I’ve been stumbling on more and more fuel to affirm my course. It started with that fortune-cookie message, but went on to infiltrate the bag of Dove Dark Chocolate/Caramel/Sea Salt candies I keep in my desk drawer at work.
Tuesday night, I found this one:
And Wednesday night, it was this message:
I snapped a picture of that one with a photo of me and my Mom in San Francisco (2003) because I think she’d approve of what I’m about to do. I just wish she were alive to see it.
Hopefully, she knows.
Prep work for my indie debut continues. I’m revising away on my MS and I’ll be signing with a graphic designer soon to redesign my website and unify my look across all platforms (Facebook, Twitter, blog, Google+).
Living near Sedona’s well-known psychic vortexes is finally starting to take its toll, though. When I saw the message below in my fortune cookie at Panda Express one recent afternoon, it was the final impetus I needed to take a big step.
That’s right. I’m going to take the plunge into the world of indie publishing.
Now, if you ask the Boyfriend, he’ll tell you “I’ve been telling her for years she should self-publish.”
Yes, yes he has.
But until recently, I wasn’t ready. Now I am. I have stories to tell, and I want to share them with the world. With the indie route gaining more and more devotees every day, I decided to invest the money I’d have spent going to RWA Nationals this summer in getting my first novel ready for release instead.
There’s so much to learn, and I’ve been soaking up all the information I can. I signed up for an indie publishing class, and joined Indie Romance Ink, a yahoo group for self-published romance authors.
I’d planned to make a big announcement about this new direction … but then I accidentally outed myself with a few comments on Twitter, so my big bang became more of a breathy whisper.
Anyway, I’m now trying my best to set up the infrastructure I’ll need to spread the word far and wide.
You can also sign up for my newsletter mailing list, either here in this post or in the blog’s sidebar. I promise not to send dozens of missives a month. In fact, I probably won’t send you anything until August, when I hope to have a redesigned website to show off. After that, I’ll send newsletters no more than once a month.
Subscribe to my mailing list
* indicates required
Email Format
Join me on this new adventure. It’s going to be a wild ride.
The Boston Marathon bombing was a horrendous tragedy, and plenty of folks more eloquent than I am have expressed their thoughts much better than I ever could.
Why’s that? I write romantic comedy. I don’t do well with dark moments, tears and a heavy heart. My whole family’s like that. There’s a reason we sat around cracking jokes before and after my dad’s funeral.
My predisposition to avoiding sadness is why, after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, I stopped writing. Months — maybe even a year — passed before I shook the funk and continued with the story I’d been working on (“Blind Date Bride”). I didn’t feel like being funny when the world as we knew it had changed forever.
But that was more than a decade ago, and if I’m going to be published before I’m too old to enjoy the victory, I don’t have the luxury of taking another six months to a year off. Besides, I signed up for the NaRoNoWriMo (National Romance Novel Writing Month) challenge to write 40K in April. I’m woefully behind — and was even before Monday’s attack. A couple of new rejections have waylaid me more than I’d like to admit. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but my skin apparently isn’t as tough as it needs to be.
In keeping with the spirit of trying to get back in the swing of things, I made myself a note:
The sentiment is from my fellow NARWAns, Karen and Anne Marie. We were gathered for some writing time at Starbucks Thursday, and when I confessed I was struggling, they gave me a gentle shove in the right direction.
I will write — not only for myself, but also for anyone who needs to boost their mood … who wants a good laugh … who, like me, uses humor to cope with their deepest, darkest doubts.
I will write because if we stop doing what we want — if we don’t continue to follow our dreams — the terrorists win.
The most recent snowstorm that socked Flagstaff left me wearing snowboots. They’re heavy, clunky boots that, while keeping my feet dry and at least a little warm, tend to gobble my socks.
Because of their penchant for leaving me with one sock off and the other half on, I can’t wait to shed these pain-in-the-a$$ boots (and put my socks back on) … so I’ve taken to stashing a pair of sneakers under my desk at work. With a minutes’ work — presto change-o — I can walk through the office without my socks bunching around my toes.
The simple act of changing into a bright pink pair of tennis shoes calls to mind elementary and middle school gym classes. Unfortunately, the memories aren’t as rosy as the shoes.
I didn’t mind gym class so much in elementary school. It was fun to play duck, duck, goose, prison dodgeball and that game with the parachute.
Then middle school happened. PE went from fun to full-on torture. For some reason, the powers-that-be put gym class first thing in the morning — meaning, essentially, we had to get ready for school twice. Considering it was all I could do to do my hair once, that was a fate worse than dropping my purse and having feminine hygiene products spill out.
Our PE class was structured into weeks-long units. I succinctly remember units on basketball (which I was surprisingly bad at for a born Hoosier), volleyball, softball and tennis. I also remember that horrid Presidential Fitness test, where you had to run a mile as fast as you could and hang by your arms (which I couldn’t do for more than a split second).
But the worst, by far, was … square dancing. With “icky” boys. (Our gym classes were only co-ed for square dancing. The rest of the year, they did their thing and we did ours.) The mere thought makes me shudder, even all these years later. If I can unearth the short story I wrote about the experience, I’ll come back and share some of my favorite lines.
I can’t help wondering: If middle school and high school PE had been more enjoyable … if they’d emphasized personal fitness instead of team sports … if they’d had units on yoga and zumba, would I still be fighting the same battle with my weight?
Probably. While I’ve finally found exercise I enjoy, it’s still a struggle to watch what I eat and move regularly. It’s a lot easier to grab a value meal and park it in front of my computer.
Anyone else hate square dancing as much as I did? What was your gym class nemesis?
Love and laughter have been in short supply in my little corner of the Internet, and for that I apologize. I’ll try to blog more often.
I want Love & Laughter to grow better … faster … stronger in 2013. Yes, that’s in addition to all the REAL writing I’m planning to do this year. A writer’s work never ends.
Not much happening in these parts — hence my lack of posts, I suppose. I’m still editing away, and for a few days last week I was THISCLOSE to becoming part of a group blog for up-and-coming romantic comedy writers.
Sadly, the idea stumbled and fell flat on its face before we managed to get off and running.
That leaves me with two options: Building up my personal blog here or joining an already-established group of romantic comedy authors with a blog that needs a helping hand.
I know that’s easier than building one from the ground up, because I jumped into another, already-established blog with no drama. I blog over at Chicklets in the Kitchen several times a month. The gig gives me an outlet for my two other loves — eating and cooking. (My posting day is Thursday.)
Anyone know of any additional group blogging opportunities? In the words of my friend, Abigail Sharpe, I’m funny, I promise!
Despite my goal to boost my online presence, it’s been too long since I’ve written a blog post.
I can’t say it’s all bad, because I have been busy writing … and rewriting … and getting rejections … and rewriting some more.
Since I last blogged, I finished the first draft of a novella, struggled with a paranormal romantic comedy and prepped an entry for the 2013 Golden Heart. (Fingers crossed on that one.)
I also assumed the helm of my local RWA chapter, NARWA, and jumped into the Ruby Slippered Sisterhood Winter Writing Festival again.
My RSSWWF goals, as posted in the opening ceremonies post on Jan. 10:
Revise at least 5 pages in the novella I want to submit March 1.
Revise at least 5 pages of my the rest of my GH entry (in case it finals).
Read an article on character-building & figure out how to apply it to my stories above.
Do something presidential (chapter admin duties).
Pay my NARWA/RWA dues. The president has to stay current!
Network by reaching out to a fellow writer in some way – via Facebook, twitter, blog comment
Plus additional goals left over from last year (they still apply, so why not?):
Read/give feedback to CP OR
Read one article in one of the many unread issues of RWR I have on file OR
Write a blog post of at least 150 words for my writing blog, Love & Laughter. Posts for the weight loss blog don’t count. OR
Read one of the GH entries I just received for judging OR
Do something/anything to further my writing career (like entering an online pitch contest, attending a chapter meeting) OR
Spend at least an hour a day, BICHOK (not playing online)
That’s what I’ve been up to, and what I’ll be doing for the foreseeable future. What are you doing to make your dream come true?
I also decided to set up a Facebook Author Page. It’s high time to separate my three FB identities. I’m looking at it as a smart career move, not another time-suck that’ll keep me from writing.
My first Desert Dreams Conference won’t be my last.
It’s over now, and I just settled into my favorite spot at the Starbucks in Camp Verde (near the outlet, naturally). The plan is to sneak in a little writing time before I crash.
Am I nuts? Why not skip the attempt to work and crash right away? How much will I really get done?
Of course I’m nuts. Aren’t all writers a little off-kilter? The thing is, even though I’m physically exhausted, my mind is racing. I have thoughts I need to get down before I forget every last one of them. Plus, I have a synopsis I need to rewrite — and fast — so I can ship requested material.
Every day of the conference was jam-packed with learning, laughter and inspiration.
Here are a few of the gems I walked away with from the weekend:
— Never talk badly about yourself. There are enough other people willing to do that for you. (Bob Mayer, Friday afternoon workshop)
— All writers wrestle with self-doubt. To reach your goals, you have to slay the doubt demons. (Allison Brennan, Saturday keynote speech)
— The way you structure your writing space can help your subconscious mind — and your muse — realize it’s time to work. (Tawny Weber, Saturday workshop)
— Not every sex scene needs to be mind-blowingly perfect. In real life, first times are often awkward. (Elizabeth Hoyt, Saturday workshop)
— In both dialogue and description, word choices set the mood and will vary depending on the character doing the speaking/observing. (Laurie Schnebly Campbell, Saturday workshop)
— Don’t give away all the details about a character’s backstory at once. Curiosity about why a character is doing what he’s doing pulls the reader into the story. (Martha Alderson, Sunday workshop)
The view from the tables in front of the conference center.
There was so much fantastic information to be gleaned from the presentations that I’ll never remember it all. The conference center hotel was great, with a gorgeous courtyard and two pools. (Next time, I’ll remember to pack a bathing suit.) Late April is the perfect time to be in Phoenix, because it’s not yet hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk.
The conference couldn’t have come at a better time, either. My Golden Heart score sheets came back on Friday and one of my two entries earned not one but two 3s. Ouch.
Luckily, I had plenty of positive support from my chaptermates who were also at the conference. Even better, I was too busy to dwell on those sucky scores. Until now, that is. Maybe I’ll get lucky and crash before I start to think too much about ’em.
Desert Dreams only happens every two years, but it’s definitely worth the short drive from Flagstaff. I’m already making plans to save up for the next one … or I will be as soon as I come back from RWA Nationals in Anaheim this summer.
Long time no hear from me, eh? I might not be blogging very much these days, but I’m still writing, writing, writing my free time away.
All that hard work is starting to pay off, though. I have a completely revised/hopefully ready for submission version of “Operation Snag Mike Brad” out with two beta readers, now that my CP’s done with it.
I’m also headed to the Desert Dreams conference down in Phoenix tomorrow. It’s my first one, even though I’ve lived in northern Arizona since 1999. I’m looking forward to that experience — even if I haven’t quite finished my packing yet. I’d best get on that. I just wish it didn’t involve searching my car — in the pouring rain — for my sandals. Think I’ll move the car into the garage before I start the search.
Also on this morning’s too-exciting agenda before I head into the office for an 8+-hour day? A haircut, possibly a trip to Target for new sandals, and writing time at Starbucks. Yep. Still busy as all get-out.
I set a new deadline for myself: Finish a new, improved draft on “Diva in the Dugout” in time to submit it to Avon Impulse by May 30. Hey, if they’re looking for stories featuring ballplayers (among other things), I have the perfect story for them.
That vacation week I had to burn in May is starting to look more and more fortuitous. I’ve worked at the Daily Sun so long that I have four weeks of vacation time … and nowhere to go for all but one. So we just put me on the schedule for a random week in May.
Now I know how I’ll be spending that week of vacation!
It’s too quiet around here. What are you up to these days?