Your own worst enemy

It's an interesting thing how, in the end, we are our own worst enemies. Whether you be a writer, painter, singer, dancer, poet, or anything in-between. Actually, it doesn't really matter if you're an academic, an engineer, a student, or a housewife.

We are our worst critics, and the ones who hold ourselves to the highest standards -- often impossible standards.

Lately I have been struggling with a motivation killer: self-doubt.

Would ya look at that

So yesterday I posted about an agent who had requested 50 pages and a full synopsis, and how I was hoping to hear back any day now.... well she emailed me this morning.

She declined to rep the book. Kind of bummed, but all in all it's okay... I will continue on!

Back to WritersNet, Publishes Marketplace, and Agent Query I go...... tra la la!

And sometimes life kicks you in the ass...

So this is an update with more personal that professional things.

First on the professional front -- I got a request from an agent for the first fifty pages of my novel and a full synopsis. So that's good! They take 4-6 weeks for reply, I'm within the 6 week mark... and I am hopeful for a response of some kind soon. Maybe. Please?

Long time no post

So I basically abandoned this thing because I hate all the changes in the blogger interface.... yes, I am petty. I never claimed to be otherwise. But I shall endeavor to suppress my qualms and post more.... because you all have been waiting for that, right? HA HA HA!!

In the meantime, let me use this post as way to pimp some things. Because I can! Yay!

It's funny because it's true.

Sh** Writers Say.

Pure brilliance!

Here, have a pointless short story.

Tomorrow - By Kate Ingram

Seems legit

I just want to live here....

~ Austrian National Library 

This will never stop being amazing!

Artist David Kracov was commissioned to create an award to be given in honor of, and named for, the late director of Chabad’s Children of Chernobyl.
Called the “Book Of Life,” it was inspired by the extraordinary life of Rabbi Yossi Raichik, a man who saved thousands of children’s lives from the devastating effects of the Chernobyl disaster. The metal sculpture has pages filled with words from those he touched, and also features a flurry of butterflies, each representing the 2,547 children he helped save and give new lives.

The Book of Life, by David Kracov.

Not dead

Really, I'm not.

Nor was I abducted by aliens (although that would make an interesting story, I'm sure). Nor am I currently hiding underground from the Russian Mafia or the Yukuza.

I just suck.

I was in a funk, a big funk. A non-writing funk.... I am only slowly coming out of it now. And my soul was eaten by a video game. Sad, I know. But it really puts things into perspective when you play a video game (an RP by the name of Dragon Age: Origins) and realize that the characters and their stories and backgrounds are better written and more thought out than a lot of novels you've read.

Really, I love this game more than I can say. It's a sick, sick obsession.

But it was helpful for the funk... to be able to escape.

So yes. Not dead.

Just incredibly lazy and antisocial and uninspired and feeling totally meh.

I hope to get back on track now... write... submit... update... write... read... write. Did I mention write?

I want this library for my own:

What d’ya write?

I write… things…. stories. Yeah, stories.

My major project, the thing I am shopping now, is what I like to call “Book 1”-- the real title for now is A Highlander‘s Duty, but I prefer to call it Book 1--because there will be more, a series.

A series I like to call “The MacLeod Chronicles”. Sounds interesting, yeah?

Not really? Damn.

Ode To A Spell Cheker

Not mine, but it amuses me greatly. I sadly do not know who wrote it, but here's to you, anonymous person! *clink*

I have a spelling checker - 

It came with my new pea sea. 

It plane lee marks four my revue 

Miss steaks aye can knot sea. 

Eye ran this poem threw it, 

Your sure reel glad two no. 

Its vary polished in it's weigh, 

My checker tolled me sew. 

A checker is a bless sing, 

It freeze yew lodes of thyme. 

It helps me right awl stiles two reed, 

And aides me when aye rime. 

To rite with care is quite a feet 

Of witch won should be proud. 

And wee mussed dew the best wee can, 

Sew flaws are knot aloud. 

And now bee cause my spelling 

Is checked with such grate flare, 

Their are know faults with in my cite, 

Of nun eye am a wear. 

Each frays come posed up on my screen,

Eye trussed to bee a joule.

The checker poured o'er every word, 

To cheque sum spelling rule. 

That's why aye brake in two averse 

By righting wants too pleas. 

Sow now ewe sea why aye dew prays 

Such soft wear for pea seas.

I adore this poster

So I hear you like jokes about writers....

A writer died and was given the option of going to heaven or hell.

She decided to check out each place first. As the writer descended into the fiery pits, she saw row upon row of writers chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they were repeatedly whipped with thorny lashes.

"Oh my," said the writer. "Let me see heaven now."

A few moments later, as she ascended into heaven, she saw rows of writers, chained to their desks in a steaming sweatshop. As they worked, they, too, were whipped with thorny lashes.

"Wait a minute," said the writer. "This is just as bad as hell!"

"Oh no, it's not," replied an unseen voice. "Here, your work gets published."

Shit Writers Say

I'm seriously contemplating getting a Twitter account (actually I should probably get one for several reasons but we won't delve into those) just so I can follow ShitWritersSay

There's also a Tumblr Account

It is all so true, and so hilarious.

Simple things that make me happy...

The Joy of Books 

Wednesday, Wednesday... so good to me!

It's update Wednesday! YAY! Only problem is I have no update planned. Oops.

When I started this thing I had blog posts planned out and partially written, but I blew through those like a gambling addict blows through spare cash in Vegas. At least I have been doing some productive things instead of spending hours upgrading and redecorating my Sims' house (which I haven't done... why do you ask? Okay, maybe I have. But I have a problem, man! Don't judge me!), I did finish out the MS and I have submitted a few Queries (now excuse me while I go breathe heavily into a paper bag).

So, there's that.

Also there's been real life stuff... you know that pesky thing that interferes with the writing and the plotting and the playing of computer games. The thing that requires human interaction and stuff.

Yeah, that thing.

Even my secondary blog, Scottish Love, has been suffering. I'm a horrible, horrible blogger.

I resolve to have more interesting blog updates (hopefully news about those submissions). I also resolve to post pertinent things.

Oooh the pressure! Oooh the humanity!

Flash Fiction Friday

What madness is this?

Right, so I stalk follow Chuck Wendig's blog TerribleMinds (which is awesome and everyone should read it) and he does a Flash Fiction Friday; this weeks theme was a song shuffle. So I decided to play along! Ain't that grand?

Song/Title: Champagne Supernova
Word count: 500 (or so Gdocs word count tells me)
Rating: PG

New Year's Resolutions

Okay, so I'm a day late and a dollar short -- I had in mind to update this blog every Wednesday, but that didn't happen. I'm also going to be posting about a subject that's a little behind the times, but in my defense I've been working on finishing my manuscript, but that's done now... so score!

Anyhoo, New Year's Resolutions.

There have been many posts about this floating around and some very ingenious ones at that. I, sadly, am not ingenious, so I'll just fake our way through, if that's alright with you?

First of all I should say, I never make resolutions, ever. So actually saying this a big step for me, but mostly it's something I've been pondering for a while now, so it's just a matter of finally getting into gear.

Now my New Year's Resolution is quite simple: Put myself out there--which is an important thing for any would-be author.

That's part of the reason for this blog (the other part is kind of as a log of sorts for my own wandering mind), and stalking all sorts of amazing blogs and websites.

Also part of that is actually doing the whole submitting thing, which is scary as f***. You're sending off what you hope is a well thought out query letter that will successfully sell yourself and your precious novel.

But there are a couple things to keep in mind (or least this is what I tell myself); 1) rejection is a way of life, it does not mean failure. 2) just because one person doesn't like it doesn't mean it's crap (although this is a possibility--we're not going there!). 3) Okay, there really isn't a number three. Um something about drowning sorrow in chocolate cake and white russians, perhaps?

I'm biting the bullet, basically. I spent most of last winter gearing up for this, polishing the MS, rewriting, researching... now to take the plunge. It's scary, but I think starting anything new should be a little scary, exhilarating. It was scary to actually start writing a novel, it was scary to decide this is what I want to do with my life.

Other things in life are plenty scary, too. Like buying a house or getting married or bungee jumping. All scary, but all with a little thrill. So I'm going to focus on the thrill and ignore the scary and hope for the best.

Now, what are your resolutions?

Don't you just hate it...

Don't you just hate it when you get struck with a brilliant idea for a children's book with fairies so you sit down to write out the idea, only to realize you need to name the main fairy.

You figure you want something botanical, but Buttercup is sooooooooo overused. So you start researching for plant names, maybe looking up their meanings and symbolism and trying to figure if the fairy should have any of those qualities, only to then realize you've just spent two hours scouring the internet with no results and the original idea is slowly starting to fade--it's more like a dying firefly blinking in and out rather than a blazing sun blinding you--and you need to start writing or it will be lost forever, so you close all your tabs, open your word program of choice and start putting down words... all the while calling the main fairy Buttercup; because, hey, it's a cute name, right?

Yeah, me too.

Happy New Year!!!

May 2012 bless you with agents and publishing deals!