I laughed when I first read this prompt. I mean, my family isn\’t particularly negative about my writing. My husband is a professional photographer, so he knows what is involved in creating things. My kid is interested in his own stuff, so he\’s not particularly aware of what I\’m doing because he\’s absorbed in his own stuff.
But then I got to thinking. There was a weekend where I wrote for fifteen hours Saturday, and eighteen on Sunday. My husband informed me, on the Monday following, that I would spend the next weekend with the family and go to a movie. o.O… So I think it\’s more a matter of learning how to balance writing with other responsibilities and commitments. I\’ve also made friends and have been fortunate enough to find people that they understand me and the way I see the world. But that took a lot of work to find those people, and to find my \”tribe.\”
So if I had to say what my one piece of advice would be to people trying to fit writing into already busy lives, it\’s this: hunt for your tribe and balance your writing with the other things you\’ve already got in your life: day job, kids, marriage, friends, and family.
What about you, Dear Reader? How do you balance passion and necessity?
The year that just ended may well come to be referred to as the Year That Shall Not Be Named. Aside from personal drama, (a close friend in the hospital since March and counting, my co-author\’s sister\’s lung function is 37%), there was publishing drama. First, Samhain Publishing announced they were closing, then chose not to and tried to gaslight the writing community by asking in a hurt tone, why did you think we were closing? Maybe because they announced they were. Words have power, sunshine. Then Torquere Press melted down in spectacular fashion, leaving those of us that believed the stories from the owner feeling lied to and cheated. One of their top authors is owed $39,000 USD, editors haven\’t been paid (one is owed $3,500 USD and another over $2,000 USD). Then, if that wasn\’t enough, All Romance eBooks announced it was closing and gave authors and indie publishers four days notice. Furthermore, there is mounting evidence that the owner, an author in her own right, took salaries from book earnings and may actually have committed some serious financial fraud. Then in November, the stunning upset in the U.S. election shocked many, myself included, ushering in a storm of disgusting white supremacy, homophobia, and misogynistic sentiment. I\’m ashamed to say I don\’t recognize my country right now.
It\’s enough to scare an author back into her hole, and I\’ll admit, it did.
But that was 2016. It\’s 2017. It\’s time to rally.
So rally we shall. It\’s important for creative people to create, in times of great darkness and times of light. I was planning on working on a memoir, In the Shadow of the Mountain: Growing Up with a Mentally Ill Parent. It\’s been a rough project to work on, for what are probably obvious reasons, but now it\’s more important than ever to me to tell my story. Invisibility leads to oppression; we need to be out and proud. Our stories matter.
Which brings me to stories – Rachel and I have recommitted to ours and are hard at work/play on the next two books in the Persis Chronicles. That\’s right, the next two books. Here\’s what happened: we drafted Book 3, Sapphire Dream, and then realized we had a problem. We had over 80,000 words, but half of it is not going to end up in this book. It needs to be told from another character\’s point of view. Add to that the fact that half the story is a journey that doesn\’t need to happen, and we\’re into major rewrites. But I\’m pleased to say that Ruby Sands, the resultant second half of Sapphire Dream and now Book 4 of the Persis Chronicles, is nearly half done and fully plotted out. I don\’t have a release date yet, because we just got our rights back for Emerald Fire and Emerald Keep and are going to release all four books together, but it will be in the first half of this year (and in the first quarter, if I can possibly make that happen).
I\’ve also started workshops again. My passion is Story, both writing it and helping others to get onto the page. Accordingly, I\’ve started the Prompt Circles with Writer Zen Garden up again and our first one is Saturday, January 21st. There\’s more information on our Meetup page, here. We\’ll be doing some other classes online in February and March on writing, and another Artist\’s Way track starting on January 22nd. Details are on the Meetup, and also the main Writer Zen Garden page, here.
Beyond that, I\’m knitting up a storm and taking classes at Craftsy in knitting, weaving, and sewing (and some other subjects). I\’ve made playdates with friends to sew and knit, both in person and online through Google Hangouts. If you are interested in playing too, please let me know in the comments.
If you, like me, are feeling small and helpless in the face of a changed tide, please know you are not alone. Journal. Your thoughts matter, and having a relationship with yourself is just as important as having one with your loved ones. Communicate. Whether you are an introvert or an extrovert, reach out to your friends and family for support. There are groups online and in person that can give you much-needed community. And most of all, make stuff. If you cook, make food. If you knit, sew, draw, color in coloring books, whatever it is: do it. Make time, right now, this week, and do it. Get off the internet. Mindless surfing is hazardous to your health. Creating is therapeutic. Make. Write. Create. The world needs your creations.
My friends at Marketing For Romance Writers came up with a challenge this year. As writers, we struggle to keep content engaging and fresh for you, Dear Reader, and so the Weekly Blogging Challenge was born. Each week, we’re given a topic as a prompt. We work with a partner, and together egg each other on to post. The objective is to blog once a week for the entire year – so look forward to some interesting posts, as I’m enjoying writing them for you. The posts go live on Fridays.
Our first prompt is, “A Few of My Favorite Things.”
That’s a toughie – I have so many. Just off the cuff, I’d have to say cats, yarn, coffee, books, and chocolate. But I also like dogs, horses, words, psyanky, candles, bubble baths, tea, fine china, jewelry, crafts, friends, travel, cars, boats, really amazing recreational vehicles…
Want to play too? Visit WordClouds to make your own word cloud.
What about you, Dear Reader? What are a few of your favorite things?
Now, more than ever, we need to remember all that we have for which to be grateful. Our abundance will give us the strength to understand what we have the power to change, but also all that we already have. True wealth is internal. Freedom can be compromised, but liberty is internal. Love is a verb. And know this: never be ashamed for reading what you enjoy, for relaxing and recharging your batteries, and for closing out the noise that has become much louder of late. Reading, and writing, are radical acts.
And so, in the spirit of the holidays, I share with you my posts on The Romance Studio, and an opportunity to win our grand prize of a $100 USD Amazon gift card, as well as prizes from participating authors – not to mention, tons of great content. Please enjoy, and remember: writers are people too, and we are emotional beings just like you. A comment, even just to say thanks for posting, can warm hearts bruised by so much craziness. It only takes a moment, but it\’s a valuable gift that will bring a smile to the face of your favorite authors. Trust me. I\’m one of them. 🙂
Love,
Noony
My posts for the party (will go live as they\’re posted throughout the party):
Let’s get a schedule together for Nice Girls Writing Naughty. We’ll do Saucy Saturdays, and Teaser Tuesdays, and how ’bout Water Cooler Wednesday! That last one was my idea, in fact, because it’s the nice side of the Nice Girls, where Saturday is the naughty, and Tuesdays’ Teasers are our most popular and longest-running feature on the blog. In short, readers like them.
Those of you paying attention will notice it’s Friday.
Yeah, yeah. I live in Chicago.
…
Not following?
Say it with me:
The Chicago Cubs Won the World Series For the First Time Since 1908!
And this is why, Dear Reader, my Water Cooler Wednesday is Water Cooler Friday.
See my logic here?
Three, sir; three!
Hmm. Where was I?
The Cubs won the World Series!
Can you believe it?
Talk about the triumph of hope over experience.
It’s also November, which means National Novel Writing Month, and I’m volunteering again this year as a Municipal Liaison for the Chicago Region. And in two weeks, it’s American Thanksgiving.
See previous re: the triumph of hope over experience…
But for you, Dear Reader, I have a most auspicious announcement. My co-Nice Girl, Nona Raines, is putting on a movie party for us in December, coinciding with the international premiere of Hairspray, the movie.
So, there you have it, Dear Reader. A little water cooler gossip about the Cubs, some Monty Python, and an invitation to go to the movies with us, your Nice Girls Writing Naughty. What more could you want?
—
“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”
– E.E. Cummings
Happy Saturday! Noony here, with some Noos and a sneak peak. First, The Noos: Join me and your other favorite authors over at the Romance Studio\’s End of Summer Bash. You can enter to win a $100 Amazon gift card, prizes from authors, and read lots of great posts. The party is open through tomorrow, so be there!
As for \”Saucy Saturday,\” our new feature here at the Nice Girls Writing Naughty – I figured I\’d share a bit of background, and then a bit of a peek into a story that Rachel and I are working on – that\’s Rachel Wilder, the Wilder part of Noon & Wilder – but hey, you knew that, right? Right. When the Nice Girls discussed what to do on our blog for you, our Dear Readers, we wanted to have different kinds of posts – some fun, some naughty, and some nice. Thus, Saucy Saturday was born. But I never like to follow the rules, which you may already know about me. So my saucy excerpt today is more \”saucy\” in the sense of having sass, rather than sexy times.
Besides. It\’s a post that made me smile, so I figured it might make you smile, too.
In case you\’re not familiar with our Persis Chronicles, it\’s a cross between the classic Harlequin white-covers trope of the billionaire with his harem girls, and Anne McCaffrey\’s Pern novels – only set in M/M romance. They\’re a ton of fun to write, and I hope you enjoy reading them as much as we do:
Excerpt (PG):
Cheula slipped his feet into heavier slippers and followed Ming out. He tried to pay more attention this time and managed to not get lost until they were several hallways away from home. He sighed in irritation.
“What?” Ming asked, eyeing him.
“Hmm?”
“You’re frustrated, if I’m any judge. What’s wrong?”
“I’m lost!” He waved a hand at the halls. “This isn’t like stone!”
“True. But look there, see the glyph in the tent wall?” Ming fingered an embroidered square.
“Yeah…”
“They’re directional markers.”
Cheula gaped at him. “You’re kidding!”
“Yes.”
He blinked. “What?”
Ming started walking again and chuckled. “Come on, we’re almost to the Hunters’ Pavilion.”
“Ming!”
“Come on!” Ming called over his shoulder, still laughing.
Cheula stomped after him and, probably due to his annoyance, recognized the Hunter’s Pavilion from their last visit. He came even with Ming and the Asian threw his muscular arm around Cheula’s shoulders as they entered.
“You met Elder Hunter?” Ming asked, releasing him from the hug.
Cheula nodded. “Earlier.”
“Do you play poker?”
Cheula could get some of his own back. “Only a little.”
Ming cocked an eyebrow but didn’t comment, just led the way over to a table. A Hunter dressed in dark grey turned and Cheula recognized Quill. He waved one-handed and finished his conversation, then came over.
“Good day, Senior Hunter,” Cheula greeted.
“Call me Quill.”
Warmed, Cheula smiled at him. “I will.”
“Poker?” Ming asked.
Quill shrugged. “Sure. Where’s Feyl?”
“Sleeping.”
Tybin entered from an entrance on the far side and saw them. He smiled and spoke to his Keeper, who disappeared back through the flap. Tybin walked over to join them.
“Poker, sire?” Ming asked.
“I could play a hand or two,” Tybin agreed. “Keeper.”
“Sire.”
Ming shuffled with practiced efficiency and dealt. Cheula checked his cards and smiled to himself. This would be fun.
After five hands, Ming sat back in his chair and threw the cards on the table. “Cheula, you’re not a novice.”
“Never said I was,” Cheula murmured. “Just lost.”
Ming gaped at him and then guffawed.
“What’s this?” Quill asked, watching them both with his penetrating grey eyes.
“Ming was teasing me about finding my way around the passages,” Cheula told him.
Quill laughed. “Then you deserve it, Ming.”
“But…”
Tybin chuckled, a deep rumble. “If you don’t know by know that Keepers are trained in poker, you deserve what you get, my son.”
And in closing, Dear Reader, mark your calendars! I\’ll be participating with the Romance Studio\’s Spookapalooza next month, so keep your mouse at the ready!
—
“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”
– E.E. Cummings
Today is the day! Today is the day! I’m so excited. The Charmed Bracelet is release into the world for your enjoyment, Dear Reader. And for Teaser Tuesday, I figured I’d give you a snippet of the story by Rachel Wilder and I, called “Lost and Found.”
* * *
It looked like any corporate conference room, and Shannon suppressed her disappointment. She’d half expected an interrogation cell like on a cop show, complete with one-way glass and a little ring fused into the table for the handcuffs.
On the other hand, since her imagination was doing its best to freak her out, this was probably better.
“Thanks for coming down to meet with me.” The detective held out his hand. “I’m Detective Delgado; we met last night.”
She nodded. “I remember.” His hand was warm and dry. Little prickles went up her arm, and she released him, wishing she could rub her palm without looking like she was, well, rubbing off his handshake. Or cherishing it.
He beamed at her and then motioned to a chair. “Please, have a seat. You seemed shaken up last night.”
“Yeah.” She swallowed. “Pretty unexpected.”
He sat opposite her and flipped open a pristine manila folder. Then he set that to the side and pulled a white legal pad from under the stack. “Start at the beginning. Tell me, in your own words, what happened.”
She surprised a sudden urge to giggle and blurt out, “Who else’s words would I use?” but she managed to control herself. What was with her?
He was as hot as her memory told her. Talk about distracting. Why couldn’t he look like Serpico and smell like old cigars?
* * *
To find out what happens next, get your very own copy at your favorite online retailer.
Have you always wanted to write? Are you already a writer, but stalled in getting words on the page? Are you a working author who needs some exercises to keep limber? Just looking for a good time? ~leer~
Well, you\’ve come to the write place. Join me at Coffee Time Romance, the award-winning forum for readers and authors. For the next two weeks, June 12th through June 25th, I\’ll be your facilitator for \”Having Fun with Writing Prompts.\” Together, we\’ll play on the page, write a lot, and just keep ourselves occupied with words. Lots, and lots, and lots of words.
In our series, the Persis Chronicles, Rachel and I created a universe where Keepers, short for “housekeepers,” are prized helpmeets who can command a high salary for their work.
One too many days dusting and doing laundry, two jobs that seem to create themselves if left alone for five minutes.
As we get our heads together to finish the draft of the third book in the series, Sapphire Dream, I figured I\’d share a little Teaser Tuesday fun with you:
They got underway after the Winds stilled. Sami sat next to Cheula, concentrating on the track. The swoosh and rustle of the sandsail lulled Cheula. He stirred finally, and craned around to look up at Sami. “You hungry?”
“I could snack on sommat,” the Driver admitted. “We’re a quarter hour out from the Oasis, though.”
“I can get you some seeds,” Cheula decided. He crawled around Sami’s legs and stood in the back of the sail, holding onto the rail for balance.
He turned to say something and a large green mass flew at him so fast he couldn’t duck. It landed in the center of his chest and he felt a prick against his skin. Then he saw what it was.
A leaper.
He screamed, a high-pitched sound that hurt his throat, and flailed. The leaper, startled, clutched his robes and flared its wings, clicking. That only made it worse. He tried to get his silks off and let go the railing.
Sami turned. “What’s wrong?”
The sail belled out and the craft leaped forward. Cheula, off balance, flailed and missed the railing.
“Cheula!” Sami cried.
You can check out the world of the Persis Chronicles with Emerald Fire and Emerald Keep, available now. Watch for Sapphire Dream, coming soon!
—
“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”
– E.E. Cummings
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Join my Writers Group, The Writer Zen Garden: Blog | Website | Forum | FB Group | Twitter | Meetup
Join my Readers Group, Nice Girls Writing Naughty: Blog | Website | FB Group | Twitter
National Novel Writing Month: NaNoWriMo | ChiWriMo | Blog | FB Group | Twitter
My \”Walking in the World\” feature is meant to be metaphorical, in terms of a \”flora and fauna\” report, as author Julia Cameron terms it, and not literally as a report about walking.
Not today, Dear Reader. Not today.
In the late 80\’s, I injured my knee catastrophically while downhill skiing. I was a racer, but on that sunny Saturday, I sat down to wait for a friend to join me on the main face of the mountain. When she skied up, I stood up. My knee dislocated for the twelfth and, though I didn\’t know it then, final time.
My parents, unhappy with the idea of a jock daughter, failed to have it properly looked at. I was given an immobility brace for three weeks and no x-rays, and that was it. By the time I saw a surgeon fifteen years later, the damage was done. He seemed stunned when he walked in the room with my radiographs. I had a small bone broken off and floating under the patella, a meniscal tear, and my patella itself was off by 16 degrees. I had no cartilage left on either sides of the knee: advanced osteoarthritis.
I was thirty-three.
The surgery was a success, by all accounts, and they were able to go in arthroscopically and not have to cut the knee open. (Uh, good…?) I had six months of physical therapy and thought that was it. I was done. The PT place didn\’t give me any exercises to continue and I was released back to my normal workout routine.
About three years later, my husband and I decided to go on an Outward Bound Dogsledding trip for nine days in the Boundary Waters, that zone between the U.S. and Canada at the top of Minnesota and the middle of nowhere.
My doctor stared at the sheet of paper that I needed her to sign: \”Medical Release Form.\” All students of Outward Bound over the age of twenty-five are required to get one signed by a doctor.
\”So, tell me about this knee of yours.\”
Shit.
In the end, she did sign the form, but under protest. She insisted the only way she would do it is if I went to Rehabilitation Institute in Chicago to see an orthopedic specialist there. If you\’re not familiar with pro sports, this is one of the places in the country they send, for example, injured NFL players in an effort to prevent them being taken completely out of the sport, or car accident victims who might never walk again.
And, apparently, me.
Six months it took me. My physical therapist was a specialist too, with a PhD. She and my doctor consulted, and they consulted with my primary physician. I didn\’t need further surgery, they said. I asked if I could jog, ever again.
\”Maybe,\” the orthopod hedged.
\”Maybe depending on what, maybe?\”
\”If you do everything I tell you to do.\” He shrugged and pulled up his pant leg, revealing a surgery scar by his knee that was bigger than my three small dots. Small, but not invisible. \”I jog.\” He let his pants down. \”But it took me a lot of work.\”
Okey dokey.
That weekend, I went to the zoo with my family. We walked all over. I wore some cute new shoes I\’d gotten at a discount chain store in my neighborhood, the kind that regularly holds \”BOGO\” specials (\”Buy One, Get One).
The poor quality of the shoe didn\’t even occur to me, until the next day when my knee swelled up to the size of a Chicago softball.
When I went to RIC that week for my appointment, my physical therapist was horrified. \”What did you do?\”
\”I went to the zoo,\” I said, and burst into tears.
When I got home, I threw out every single pair of shoes that I owned, except for the pair of athletic New Balance that the specialized shoe store gave me on doctor\’s orders, (the doc even gave me a special piece of paper to take with me so they\’d know what kind of shoes to give me), the one pair of office-quality shoes, and a pair of loafer-like black flats – also from the same store.
Okay, I kept the two pairs of four-inch heels, one a gorgeous, unusual emerald green leather, and the other ruby like the Ruby Slippers.
I couldn\’t bear to throw them out for another ten months, even though I didn\’t wear them ever again.
Okay, that\’s not true. I tried wearing them at work one day. One day. And I had to take them off by 11:30.
Today, I can walk. A lot. I can do three miles in an hour, and if I\’m gentle, I can do all day at the zoo. I can actually jog to catch a bus, as long as it\’s not more than a half-block or so. I can do squats, and just yesterday with my new physical trainer, I sat down with my weight on only one leg, while holding the other leg in the air. I didn\’t think I could do it, and I had to \”spot\” my injured leg, but it worked, God damn it. Three sets of five.
Walking in this world isn\’t just metaphor. We\’re physical beings. It\’s easy to forget that, when we\’re on the computer and sucked into the echo chamber. But if you\’re not going to the gym on a regular basis, give it a shot. Even if all you do is walk, it\’s enough.
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