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Showing posts from September, 2011

Me and myself

Monday was another fruitful meeting at the writer's guild. The group is expanding, and every event has a good energy to it. Because the venue changed recently, I got to see an old historic town not near at all to where I live, but I think in general I'm capable of staying on the bright side. We shared our writing with one another, and filled out little sheets with feedback and criticism. Most of what I got was useful, and everyone agreed that I read too fast. I come off as nervous, because I am, and it shows. So, step one to improve the public reading is to slow down. Before Monday I had a pretty good weekend. A good friend is opening a store, and I got to learn all about the behind the scenes features of that experience (went ahead and tucked that away for use later). There is no small amount of activity that precedes a lonely little space in some random suite transforming into the kind of joint that looks like it couldn't be anything but filled with merchandise and cust

Onward, upward, jazz

This morning I wrote, and it felt pretty great. Usually, I don't make such a judgment until after I've gone back and  looked over whatever it was a second time, but it felt good to be back into the swing of things. I don't really have an idea of how much I plan on writing per week; honestly, it felt a lot like I was just doing it because I was getting more and more afraid that it was getting away from me. Likely, I'll spend this week making plans about at what speed to execute the outline I'm scribbling and scratching through. I've also signed the next contract for the next book, which requires me to fill out an author information page. Or, to decide on excerpts, blurbs and begin brainstorming on what I'd like the cover to look like. I'm not sure if they changed the form since last time, or if I just didn't see it, but this time around there was even a space for professional blurbs, which are those really impressive-sounding quotes that are on the

P(r)ep talk

It took me some time to realize that last week's post had no mention of what I was writing, or preparing to. I had the same revelation that I did last night to hear of another author's experience at Dragon Con, the meeting, the greeting, and the et cetera. And things aren't getting much better. As I mentioned months back, the structure of my urban fantasy series is somewhat odd. The first book has three main characters, and the sequels, which occur at the same time, take place in different places. You could say the first book has three sequels (and each of those has its own sequel as well, preceding the grand finale where everyone is back together again, comprising a crystal structure to the series). I was finally able to explain this to someone at the publisher that put out the first novel, and they were very open about letting me publish the first sequels in rapid succession. I was a bit glad. That is, until I went to last night's meeting. "Three books in one

Who was I again

Last night I had vivid dreams about missing all manner of important appointments. It didn't matter how quickly I dressed or how much I fretted, the rendezvous location was always too far away, or suddenly obscured. This morning I breath only a little easy as I reflect on Saturday, squinting at names I knew but now cannot fully recall. Saturday, before I went on stage, there was a meeting of the minds. People I knew from four different circles convened at a popular pub in downtown Decatur and met each other for the first time. I only had a few things jotted down on a note card, but I leaped to introduce everyone to everyone else. In the end I did a poor job of that and also of outlining what I would say. With every speaker that got up and sat down, my time crept closer and closer. I cannot remember a time when I was more terrified, and I educate teenagers these days. And my fear did not abate when the man called my name, and I did not run and hide. I stepped up behind the micropho