#Trust30: Meet Titania

Today’s #Trust30 prompt asks:

"If you could picture your intuition as a person, what would he or she look like? If you sat down together for dinner, what is the first thing he or she would tell you?"

My intuition never comes over for dinner. She’s more of a breakfast person. Titania is loud, creative, and prone to outrageous leaps of logic. She commands a larger space than I think most intuitions do. Or maybe other intuitions are just as demanding, but their people are less responsive. In any case, Titania seems to be getting taller all the time – she grows a quarter-inch every time I follow her advice. She’s almost six-and-a-half feet now.

I never used to listen to Titania. When I didn’t listen to her, she shrank. By the time I married my first husband, she was only two feet tall. I kept catching a fleeting image of her jumping up and down, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying at all. She told me, years later, that she was yelling “Don’t do it!” at the top of her lungs. Her lungs were so small, though, that I couldn’t hear her.

I couldn’t hear her for a very long time. Finally, one day when I was alone, she got my attention and I took her advice. Her guidance was so perfect that the next time I had a dilemma, I sought her out. I have her to thank for my life as it is now – and it’s a very good life.

Titania doesn’t have to wait for a dinner invitation to tell me what she thinks. She pops by regularly and pulls up a chair. She can be opinionated, but she’s always honest. And she’s rarely wrong.

#Trust30: Robotic Companions, Anyone?

Image by kalavinka via Flickr

Today’s #Trust30 exercise challenges us to invent our futures.

What does my future look like? It depends on how far into the future I’m looking:

Next Year:

I’ll have at least nine novels completed by this time next year. I hope to have significantly increased my fan base.

Five Years in the Future:

I will have written more than twenty novels. My husband will not have to work anymore. We will be able to spend more time traveling and enjoying each other’s company.

Ten Years in the Future:

I will set up a scholarship for Cottey College English Literature majors. Cottey is my alma mater – I have always wanted to do something to support them. Dan and I will be living in Chicago by then.

Twenty Years in the Future:

Indie authors will no longer be viewed with suspicion by readers. Publishing houses and agents will have long since discovered that they can mine the indie population for the writers of the future. I just don’t know if the indie writers will still care if they get a “real” contract. Anticipating a slow-down in my annual output, I will have written at least forty novels over the course of my career.

Forty Years in the Future:

I will be happily anticipating my eightieth birthday. Though I have no children, I will have a legion of readers who still look forward to my next book. Maybe I’ll even be recognized on the street occasionally. I’ll probably have a new pancreas by then – science will have figured out how to grow replacement “parts.” And I expect I’ll have a robotic companion – because don’t we all expect that?

If I could truly create my future, Dan would still be standing right beside me forty years from now. He is more important than everything else – the rest is just cotton-candy fluff.

#Trust30: What is "Your Work"?

Do your work, and I shall know you. Do your work, and you shall reinforce yourself. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

What is your work? If you think it’s the place you go every day, you’re being too literal. Your “work,” in this case, is that which you pursue with passion. It’s using your talent, whatever that may be. If you use your talent, I will know you – the real you, not the cookie-cutter corporate you or the idealized, sanitized you.

Truly using your talent – “[d]o[ing] your work” – can be frightening. Despite all our cultural talk about the importance of being an individual, we are a nation with a few originals and millions of copies. If you are a copy, you aren’t reinforcing yourself – you are reinforcing the original.

When you stop imitating and start using your talent as you were always intended to, you step away from the crowd and become something original. It can be frightening. Some copies will try to stop you by telling you not to make a fool of yourself. Others will mock you. Most of them will pretend that you haven’t changed at all, even when the evidence is laid before them. However, the originals will recognize, befriend, and encourage you.

And so, here is the challenge Emerson has laid before each of us:

Use your talents, become an original, and discover your true value.

#Trust30: Alternative Paths

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Taped to my computer monitor is a Chinese fortune I received a number of years ago now, back when I was toiling as a worker drone: “You will live the life that makes all others not envious, but proud of you.” Those words dug a foxhole in my psyche and have held their position ever since.

When I first read that fortune, I was not living a life I was proud of. I wasn’t writing. I’d named and claimed writer’s block for so many years that my family and friends had given up on me ever writing anything beyond a thank-you note – and even that was iffy. I was well on my way to letting my talent wither and die within me, leaving only the empty husk of what might have been.

Those words on that tiny slip of paper shamed and inspired me at the same time. I taped them a few inches to the right of the Dell logo on my monitor, where I knew I would see them every day. And I started to change my life.

I have been looking for alternative paths now for several years. Even when the path ahead of me is clear, I stop and consider what other options I might have. I could have continued to submit my manuscripts to agents – I’d had some encouragement in that direction, albeit not as much as I’d wished. I changed course and self-published. I could have spent all my time on social media tooting my own horn in an attempt to get noticed, but I was just one more voice in the cacophony of the internet. Instead, I became a voice of encouragement and support for other indie authors. Because I turned in that direction, I found an e-publisher who loves my work and encourages me every step of the way.

I continue to search out new paths on a daily basis. Though it is sometimes challenging, I try to never close my mind to the possibilities of the universe. After all, sometimes the messages God is trying to send arrive with the bill in a Chinese restaurant.

#Trust30: Surprise

I am a writer – which means I surprise myself every day.

There are days when I wake up certain that I won’t be able to write a single word. Then I do.

I have stared at blank screen after blank screen. I filled them.

I have written my characters into inescapable predicaments. I found them a way out.

I wrote my first complete novel doubting that I’d ever let anyone read it. Then I published it.

I thought I would be one of those writers of whom no one has ever heard. Then I found fans.

I was certain no publisher would ever want to work with me. I found one who did.

When people ask me what I do, I tell them I’m a writer. I’ve never had a better, more rewarding “job.” And I surprise myself every day.

#Trust30: Divine Idea

Imitation is Suicide. Insist on yourself; never imitate. – Ralph Waldo Emerson
Write down in which areas of your life you have to overcome these suicidal tendencies of imitation, and how you can transform them into a newborn you – one that doesn’t hide its uniqueness, but thrives on it. There is a “divine idea which each of us represents” – which is yours?

I don’t believe I hide my uniqueness. I think my husband, family, and friends would laugh at the very idea. I may blend in with the crowd, but that’s generally just because the crowd isn’t paying attention.

So, moving on: today’s #Trust30 prompt instructs me to share the “divine idea” I represent. When I first read this, I was honestly stymied. I had to walk away from my computer for a few hours and think.

Is it really possible to know what “divine idea” you represent? Maybe we represent different ideas to different people. To one person, I might be “truth”; to another, “joy”; and yet another, “faith.”

I hope the divine idea I represent is peace. I don’t believe in living my life in a constant state of chaos. I want my presence to bring a sense of harmony and relaxation. I believe that even where there is disagreement, it is possible to have acceptance. There should never be an “us” against “them” mentality – it dehumanizes both groups.

Perhaps I represent individuality – the concept that each soul is unique. Individuality is like a flower. If you keep it out of the sun, it withers and dies, leaving nothing but a bitter root; with a little sunlight, though, it blossoms and grows into its most complete beauty.

Maybe I represent none of these, but something completely different. And that’s okay, too. I am myself and that is what I represent.

#Trust30: Your Personal Message

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The #Trust30 project and a Book Junkie’s idea are conspiring with one another. Today's #Trust30 prompt is:

“What is burning deep inside of you? If you could spread your personal message RIGHT NOW to 1 million people, what would you say?”

One of my Book Junkie compatriots announced yesterday that he would be reading all of my published work and evaluating the oeuvre rather than the pieces.

All of which leads to this question: what message have I been trying to send with my work? I believe I know the answer.

Life is a precious gift. Too often, we allow others to hijack this gift and use it for their own purposes. Only by taking control of our lives can we truly experience happiness – and only then do we make the Giver of Life truly proud.

#Trust30: Afraid To Do

Today’s #Trust30 prompt is “What is too scary to write about?”

I won’t be posting my response on this blog. It’s too personal and too much “mine” for me to share.

But that does beg the question: how much of ourselves should we put onto the web for others to peruse?

My mother was reading the Facebook profiles of some people she knows and found one young woman who listed herself as “bisexual.” This shocked her enough that she asked me if I had read the same thing. I had, of course. In her opinion, this was a case of over-sharing. I wasn’t so quick to agree.

Sexual orientation has gone from something that was assumed to something that defines us. Most of my generation are sophisticated enough to at least mask our initial surprise when we discover someone is gay. I’d even go so far as to say that most of us aren’t surprised – we’ve learned enough of the code-words, signs, and behaviors to decide someone’s sexual orientation long before they have to tell us explicitly. In fact, most of us would be more shocked to find that someone we think is gay -- isn’t! Younger generations seem even more accepting.

So my question is, what’s left? What tidbits of ourselves do we hide from the rest of the world? And should we? 

#Trust30: Five Years

Today's #Trust30 challenge is to write to myself five years in the past and five years in the future. Here's what I would say to me:

Dear Me of Five Years Ago:

You don’t realize it yet, but you are on the verge of changing your life.

In just a few months, you are going to return to college and finish your B.A. in English. Thanks to your professors and peers, you are also going to discover that you are a good writer – something you have been doubting for years.

Earning your Bachelors degree will give you a confidence you never had before. Remember to thank Dan for giving you the opportunity to return to school full time, because the next six months are vital to your future.

Love,

Me, Today

*****

Dear Me of Five Years Hence:

I believe you will have found more success as a writer by now than you ever thought possible ten years ago. You have twenty complete novels under your belt, a network of writers and readers who support you, and you may have even met Oprah.

I’m so proud of you – you achieved something you spent too many years just dreaming of doing. On top of that, you have a wonderful husband and family who support and love you.

Don’t rest on your laurels now, though – you’re only 44! Keep going! Your life isn’t even half over if you’re going to make it to 100. When will you write your fiftieth book?

Love,

Me, Today

#Trust30: Dare To Be Bold

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I want Oprah to select one of my books for her Book Club. I know what you’re probably thinking: Oprah doesn’t choose indie books. However, the whole point of today’s #Trust30 exercise is to dream big – so I choose to dream about Oprah reading and recommending Circle City Blues.

The obstacles:

1. Oprah only chooses traditionally printed books.

2. Oprah probably has hundreds of books waiting for her eyes to peruse.

3. Oprah probably doesn’t think she’d enjoy a book about a truck driver.

How can I overcome these obstacles?

1. I could gift her an electronic copy of Circle City Blues – after all, she has a Kindle. And my books are also available in print. All I need is her email address.

2. If everyone who has read and enjoyed Circle City Blues sent Oprah an email recommending my book, she might actually read the complementary copy I have hypothetically sent her.

3. Once Oprah starts reading my novel, she’ll see that trucking isn’t the subject of the novel – the seven stages of grief are the real focus. She will recognize that this quirky little comedy is actually about recovering from traumatic life events.

So what do you think? Could it happen or is this just a pipe dream? And does anyone have Oprah’s email address?

#Trust30: Come Alive

Image by jimmedia via Flickr

I spent a large part of my life planning for what I would do in the future: travel, have children, write, etc. I stopped planning and started living a few years back now. I can honestly say that if I discovered I had only one week to live, I wouldn’t change a thing – though I might strive to finish the book I’m working on!

When I was young I dreamt of traveling the world. When I entered adulthood, I planned to visit all the foreign lands I’d read about and explore their cultures. But then life intervened. The necessity of having a job put a major crimp in my travel plans. And the older I got, the more I thought traveling alone was just kind of sad. When I married the first time, I thought my husband and I would travel together; unfortunately, our goals didn’t mesh well. When the marriage failed, I finally started traveling.

When I married Dan, I wanted children. A lot. To the point that I was willing to pursue fertility treatments that we couldn’t afford. It took Dan, my voice of reason, months – possibly years – to convince me that not having children didn’t make me a failure.

My dream was always to write, but I never believed I was good enough. I started and abandoned many manuscripts over the years because I doubted my talent. Then, two years ago, I went to Dan and asked him to have faith in my abilities. Though he’d never read anything I’d written but a few short stories, poems, and essays, he agreed to let me pursue my dream. I started writing and haven’t looked back. Today, I will have 35K words on my sixth novel.

I have learned this: stop planning the journey; start walking. Accept your life and your talents just as they are and keep moving forward. Standing around waiting for a bus to carry you into the future you want doesn’t work; no bus is coming. Start walking.

#Trust30: Today

My life is balanced on the razor’s edge of success and failure; only my actions can tip it in either direction.

#Trust30: 15 Minutes to Live

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Fifteen minutes? Really? There must be some mistake. You see, I’ve been taking better care of myself lately. I exercise, I take my pills…how can you be sure it’s only fifteen minutes?

When I was very young, I decided I wanted to live to be 100 years old. Unlike other kids I knew who took the credo of “live fast, die young” to heart, I never took any risks. I shied away from potential danger, choosing instead to live as safely as possible. Some people might say that I wasted the years I was given in trying to preserve my life, but I didn’t want a thrill. I only wanted more life.

I’m going to miss my target by more than sixty years. Do I have any regrets? Yes. Of course. I wish I’d moved to New York. I wish I’d gone ahead and tried some recreational drugs besides marijuana. I should have started writing ten years ago instead of just two. But I’ve had a very good life. I found my soul mate, and I wouldn’t trade our years together for anything – not even New York, recreational drugs, and thirty completed novels.

I’ve still got so much I want to say. I want to properly describe the joy of a happy marriage and the heartbreak of being left alone. I want to touch more people’s lives with my words. That’s the magic of being a writer, though. I’ll still be doing that long after I’m gone from this beautiful planet.

I understand now. Knowing you’ve only got fifteen minutes is really a blessing: enough time to accept, but not so long that you suffer. Enough time to call your loved ones and tell them goodbye. Life is fleeting and many people don’t even get fifteen minutes of knowing the end is coming.

I’m ready.

Book Junkies: Where Everybody (Sort of) Knows Your Name

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Gertrude Stein with Hemingway's son

When I was a kid, I dreamed of moving to New York or London or Paris and becoming a writer. I thought I’d live in a tiny apartment and walk everywhere so that I could absorb the culture and really have my finger on the pulse of the city. I also thought I’d find a small community of other writers – possibly ex-pats, as I imagined I would be – who would support and grow with me. We’d be the equivalent of Hemingway, Stein, and the rest. We’d set the literary stage afire again.

Okay, so my dreams might have been a little far-reaching. At the very least, though, I pictured my own version of Cheers – a place where everyone knew my name and might even shout it out as I entered.

I’ll be forty in six months. I never moved to a big city – instead my city, Phoenix, grew up around me. I never was much of a drinker…probably a good thing. And I never found a place where I felt welcomed and comfortable in the company of other writers – until very recently.

I stumbled upon Book Junkies through the blog post of a member a few months ago now. I felt instantly welcomed. This community of writers and readers is truly like a gathering of kindred souls. You can almost feel the crackle of creativity when you read the posts in the various Book Junkies pages. One of our members, Helmy, even tackled a wonderful flash-fiction collaborative book which will be available for free on Smashwords sometime next month (I’ll be sure to post about it when it comes out). The readers have tackled their own projects, offering book reviews and a beta reader service to interested writers.

So why haven’t I blogged about this before? Honestly, selfishness has kept me silent. I love having a place where people are interested in one another’s thoughts and writing processes. I love visiting Book Junkies and feeling welcome in that small community. I feared that, as Book Junkies grew, it might lose that comfortable feeling.

No more. Book Junkies might not be for everyone, but we have writers and readers of every stripe – from Romance to Horror, from Mainstream to Steam Punk. If you think this could be the community you’ve been looking for, I hope you’ll join us. That’s the great thing about the internet – there’s no capacity limit.

A Little Midweek Flash Fiction

Thanks to the inspiration of my Book Junkie pals, I've written a couple flash fiction pieces. I thought I'd share them with you.

Finality

Pulled from a deep sleep, she picked up her ringing phone. “Hello?”

“Turn on the television,” her husband commanded.

The dark box came to life and she tried to make sense of the images before her. As she watched, a plane struck a tower like an arrow shot through a cowboy. She gasped.

“The world is ending. I want to be with you.”

“If the world is ending,” she answered, “I don’t want to be with you.”

Sustenance

He opened the cabinet doors though he knew nothing remained behind them. Yesterday, he’d stood on a chair and looked for crumbs left behind on the shelves, wetting his finger to pick them up and licking them off.

He couldn’t share with his mother. Feeding her would only make him twice as hungry and prolong her suffering. And she was suffering, there was no doubt about that – wasting away. Waste not, want not.

His mouth watering, he picked up the cleaver and left the kitchen.

A Blog Worth Reading

I'd like to take a moment to promote the blog of a long-time friend:

But Just Like That...: The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants

Now, I'm not a mother -- I'm a novelist, a profession I have discovered requires a certain level of selfishness on my part. Selfishness is not really compatible with motherhood, so I'd have to say it's a good thing that God never put a baby in my life. However, this is one of the best-written parenting blogs I've come across. Why? Because when I read it I understand what having a child must really feel like --and that makes her blog truly remarkable.

Thanks, DJ...I admire you and am glad to know you.

What Writers Write and How They Write It*

*I wrote the following article at my publisher's request. In February 2011, Inknbeans Press posted it on their website. I am reprinting it below with a few changes in celebration of the completion of my fifth novel, Forsaking the Garden. Enjoy!



In July 2009, I sat down in front of my computer and made a promise to myself: I would write a thousand words a day and not worry about editing what I’d written until I had a complete novel. Four months later, I had the 120,000-word manuscript for what would become The Thief of Todays and Tomorrows. The sense of accomplishment was so much more than I could have imagined – like getting high without all the nasty side effects, save one: I was addicted.

It took me the better part of three months to edit my first novel down to a more reasonable size of 90,000 words. Editing my own work taught me a lot and changed the way I write forever. I try to avoid words I know I will later want to edit out, like probably, maybe, and perhaps. I keep a character name list in an effort to ensure I don’t switch names around as I write (this is still a stumbling block for me, even with the list). And I read my dialogue aloud as I write it.

My desk is a cluttered jumble of reference books, including one that boasts 30,001 baby names. Because I know that I prefer names that start with hard Cs or Ks, I now force myself to choose the first letters of names at random. If I find myself unsure of what happens next, I visit Pogo.com and play a game or two while I mull it over.

I don’t create an outline before I begin to write because an outline ruins the story for me. The characters tell me where they want to go and I follow their lead. The end of one of my books is generally just as much of a surprise to me as it is to the reader.

Because I never want to be without an idea for my next novel, I keep a journal. Almost every day, I warm up by writing in that journal, usually using writing exercises to create short scenes. This journal has so far produced three novels: Circle City Blues, An Unassigned Life, and Forsaking the Garden, which will be published by Inknbeans Press in June 2011.

I still write a thousand words a day when I’m working on a new manuscript. If I don’t, I actually suffer from a kind of withdrawal. Writing is more than my job – it’s my addiction. And nothing feels better than finishing a book.

Editing Tips and Tricks to Strengthen Your Work

Originally, I intended to post a book review today. However, despite my best efforts to like the book, I simply don’t. It could be the genre; I’m not a huge fan of espionage fiction, though I love a good spy thriller now and then. Or it could be the fact that the book really needs an editor. In that vein, I’m going to share some tips for self-editing that I think authors could benefit from.

Misuse of Semicolons and Colons

Remember this: in general, a semicolon has a full sentence on both sides of it.

Example:

I went to the store to buy peanut butter; however, they were out of my favorite brand.

If you see a semicolon that doesn’t have a full sentence (a noun and a verb at the bare minimum), you’re probably not using the correct punctuation. While there are exceptions to this rule, they are rare – at least as rare as black-footed ferrets.

As for colons, you want to use them instead of semicolons in sentences like this:

Example:

I went to the store to buy my favorite peanut butter: Jiffy.

You see how that works? “My favorite peanut butter” and “Jiffy” are the same thing. The colon is used to show that they are equivalent. As a reader, I have noticed that the semicolon is frequently used instead of a colon in situations like this, and that is just plain wrong.

Homophones

In the last book I read, the author uses “site” when he means “sight” throughout the book. This is the only consistent error in the author’s spelling, which leads me to believe that he meant to find and replace one instance of “sight” with “site” and accidentally replaced every “sight” in the book. Nevertheless, a group of beta readers would have seen that error and pointed it out to the author.

As a writer, I keep a list of words that I frequently confuse. For instance, I have a problem with “where” and “wear.” When I finish a book, I search for all instances of those words and make sure I’m using the appropriate one. Everyone has their quirks – it’s just a matter of rooting them out and keeping a stern eye on them.

EditMinion

I highly recommend that you use editminion.com. This is a fantastic free tool that another author, Mari Miniatt, suggested. This tool will evaluate the strength of your prose and let you know the frequency with which you are using certain words. Just copy and paste a chapter into it and use its suggestions to tighten things up a bit.

Kindle

If you own a Kindle, you have a fantastic editing tool. When you’ve finished your manuscript, email the document to your Kindle email address and let the Kindle read your book to you. You’ll be amazed at how many mistakes you will catch simply by hearing your book read aloud.

If you don’t own a Kindle, I recommend reading your work aloud to yourself; I’d wait until the house was empty before I did it, though.

In conclusion, if you don’t have the resources or the inclination to hire an editor, at least attempt to edit your work yourself. Your readers will thank you for it by buying your books and recommending your work to others.

In Memory of My Grandfather

Last year on this day, my father's father, Howard Wells, died. In memory of him, I'm posting something I wrote just a few days after he passed away and a poem I wrote about him and my grandmother.

She was an older woman, wearing pearls. She stepped out of one of the other rooms at the hospice and asked my cousins and me to be quiet. We moved to the benches outside after that. Later, as she was leaving, she said, “Thank you. I have a loved one dying in there.”

All I could think was, Who doesn’t?

We were dealing with grief the only way we knew how. Not with pearls and elegant clothing and quiet, but with laughter and hugs and remembering. I will always remember: his red skin; his big hands; his deep voice; his frightening smoker’s cough; his love for my grandmother; his love for all of us; and his peace as death approached.

He was eighty-three. He and my grandmother had been married sixty-three years. Their sons were sixty-two and fifty-nine. They had four grandchildren. They had seven great grandchildren. Now my grandma is alone for the first time in her life, and she cries at random memories. But she laughs, too.

When I am old and dying, I hope that there will be relatives around me laughing, touching, and remembering. I hope I don’t have any relatives who will wear pearls and speak too quietly for me to hear. I want to go out on a cloud of rising laughter even as the tears fall like rain from beneath it.

My Grandmother

Her weathered and creased hands hold memories:

She played peek-a-boo with Baby Brother
On cotton bedding in an earthen home
When everyone was poor and life was hard.

Early mornings, farmland warmed by weak sun,
Her strong fingers grasped and milked cow's udders,
Part of chores before the long walk to school.

Her creased hands hold weathered memories:

In worn leather jacket and high-water jeans,
He claimed her hand with his soulful blue eyes
And tender letters written from boot camp.

In tough leather gloves and a safety veil,
She stole amber-colored honey from bees
And taught her young sons to be courageous.

Her hands hold creased and weathered memories:

In the final years of her mother's life,
She held her weak hand while the slight woman
Lost her way, not remembering her child.

She smiled and held the photos out to me;
Her strong, sound mind shared the fragile slivers
Of time and place that connect us to life:

Her weathered and creased hands hold memories.

Support Independent Writers -- Read Their Work

“There is no royal path to good writing; and such paths as exist do not lead through neat critical gardens, various as they are, but through the jungles of self, the world, and of craft.” – Jessamyn West, Saturday Review, Sept. 21, 1957.

So many people are writing today – perhaps there are more writers than readers, as I read recently in someone else’s tweet. As an independent writer, I hope it only feels that way.

Social media, in all of its varying forms, is the “neat critical garden” of our time. We sit in these gardens and console ourselves and our friends as we moan about the lack of readers. Yet all great writers are great readers.

Reading a book sends me into the “jungles of self, the world, and of craft.” Reading opens my mind, expands my horizons, and brightens my world. How many of us were first inspired to write by something we had read? Yet once we’ve written a book, many of us stop reading and instead spend all of our time in the critical gardens of the internet, trying to convince others to read our books.

If you are an indie writer, I challenge you to buy and read a book by another indie writer – you can find some real gems at Smashwords.com. Look around, take some samples, find something that speaks to you. When you finish the book, write a review for the author. If you blog, post the review on your blog, too. When you send out a positive message on behalf of someone else, you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what comes back to you. I, for one, found a publisher.

 Happy reading!