One Thing

This pile of fabric looks harmless enough, right? Not when I look at it. It's the makings of a quilt I've wanted to create for about a year now, ever since I came across a pattern called Zen Garden. It's not a complicated pattern -- I'd say confident beginner level -- and it requires only skills I already possess to put together. I've practically memorized the pattern by reading it a couple hundred times. I worked it out in my head, and then on paper, and did the math involved and whatnot. Not a problem.

Only the more I looked at it, the more it became a problem. It's not what I thought of as a Zen garden. It was a boxy bunch of plain blocky rocks with a couple squares of color. What I really wanted to do was tweak the pattern, use more color and alter some of the design and fabric choices. I wanted weathered wood in my garden. More green, too, I love green. The fabrics would have to be very specific to what I saw in my head. I'd have to swap out two of the piecing steps and reinterpret the gray fabrics. I came up with major plans for the hand quilting, too -- hundreds of circles, like ripples on the still surface of a pool, instead of the recommended straight line work.

I couldn't leave well enough alone. Everyone else might be happy enough to follow the pattern faithfully; I wanted to take it in different directions. Story of my creative life, really. Where people see instructions, I see the gardens of possibilities just beyond them. And that scares me, and often I put it off because I think on some level I want to be like other people. Or I'm not as brave as I think. Or maybe I envy people who can follow a pattern without a problem. Sometimes I just procrastinate. Other times I end up paralyzed by doubt.

After going through another bout of temporary blindness and being robbed this year I'm tired of being scared of the things I want to do. How long have I got left to do them, anyway? So I've finally gathered the fabric and and started cutting. I've another day or two of that, and then I'll begin piecing.

Now, that little bitch of doubt in my head is already sneering that I've used too much green -- and she thinks it's acid green, not the spring green I see. Also, just FYI, she says the quilt will be a disaster because I suck at cutting precisely with my arthritic hands. Doubt thinks instead I should work on the other kit quilt I bought (and follow the damn directions.)

I don't care what Doubt thinks. If it's more acid than spring green, great. If it ends up crookedly pieced because I cut badly, fine. I'm doing one thing that scares me because I want it more than I want to be scared of it. I'm making this quilt the way I see it in my head. I'm not sewing this quilt for Doubt. I'm creating my vision. I'm doing this for me.

Now apply that to writing, scuplting, painting -- anything creative thing you want to do -- and do it. That's my message today. Do the one thing that scares you, in the exact way you want to do it, because only you can -- and you aren't immortal.

Seeing Clearly

Every time I come back to blogging from a hiatus I always feel I must apologize for being absent -- and I am sorry to stay away. This time my excuses are fairly hair-raising, but before you read on know that I am on the mend.

Back in February I started losing the vision in my left eye. Again. You know that saying where someone is walking around in a fog? For a while there I was, literally. Everything I saw out of my left eye seemed engulfed by a white mist that just kept growing more opaque. The right eye seemed fine, but I had a problem there, too. It made it very tough to focus, and by the end of March I'd gone half-blind. My surgeon diagnosed me with PCO, or in layman's terms secondary cataracts, in both eyes. Just before the laser surgery to clear it up I was taping my left eye shut just so I could stop walking into walls, tripping over the dogs, etc.

It was the month before the surgeries that proved more challenging for me. The impairment came out of nowhere, at a time in my life when things have been actually good for a change. Since it's been four years since my last eye operations I didn't think I'd have to go through it again. Thus I had to cope with lots of negative emotions before I went under the laser. My guy was my rock, as always, and he's the main reason I got through it okay.

All my angst turned out to be wasted. Both surgeries were a success, and my doc fully restored my vision.

After the surgeries went so well I joked with my guy that I would probably pay for it in another way -- and I did. A week after my vision was restored and I was cleared to drive again, I went to pick up my guy from work. Without any warning another, non-life-threatening medical condition of mine flared up, and I had to pull off the road. I was in no state to drive for a few hours, which unfortunately stranded me in the middle of nowhere.

I did call my guy to come and get me, but I didn't know exactly where I was, so I had to describe what landmarks I could see. I knew once he arranged another ride it was going to take him a while to find me. While I was waiting for him two Good Samaritans pulled over, and after I explained the situation said they would wait with me until my guy arrived. It was broad daylight, and they seemed very nice, so I wasn't scared. Until they robbed me, which was the real reason they stopped, and left me there.

Honestly, I didn't care about the $26.00 they stole; if they'd asked me for it I would have given the money to them. It was that they robbed me because I was alone and in trouble.

Of course it could have been much worse, and I'm blessed that all they stole from me was a little cash. It's the unfairness of it that still needles me. I can't tell you how many people I've helped in similar situations. Accident victims, homeless folks, lost kids, elderly people needing assistance, people whose car batteries had died -- when someone is in trouble I always stop and try to be a Good Samaritan. We all do, don't we? Because it's just the decent thing to do. Yet the very first time I'm in need of one, I get robbed.

I do learn from my mistakes, and that won't happen to me again. After this I won't trust in the kindness of strangers. It's sad, especially because I've always believed people to be decent enough to do the right thing in bad situations. Not going to automatically assume that anymore.

That's all the hair-raising/depressing stuff. I feel a bit like I'm been repeatedly kicked in the teeth, but also very, very lucky, which is a weird combination. Throughout everything I've been able to keep working. Writing for me is the most healing thing I do. I've also immersed myself in a lot of other creative ventures that helped me cope, starting with making this quilt:



It's the first one I've ever made from a kit (available at Craftsy.com), and while I made some mistakes I think it came out well. I learned a lot from working on it, such as never to cut fabric when I'm half-blind.

I've been cooking quite a bit, too, and trying new recipes. The online cooking community is awesome when it comes to sharing simple, delicious dishes. At Domesticate-Me.com I found a pretty fabulous one-layer chocolate cake recipe that has no butter or eggs, and is topped with whipped cream and fresh berries (as you can see I cheated a little and added some mini chocolate chips with the fresh strawberries I put on top.) I served it as our Easter dinner dessert, and my crew went wild over it.



It has been a tough couple of months, but I can see clearly now, and that's what matters. Giving up has never been my thing anyway, and I'm not about to start. I've got so many other, better things to do.

So what have you all been up to? Let me know in comments.

Sleep Strategies

Last night I slept for seven hours straight. This was deep sleep, too, with dreams that I vaguely remember (something about trying on clothes. I haven't bought anything new since I began my weight-loss quest.) I woke up feeling a bit fuzzy but otherwise great. I've been sleeping like this most nights for the last six months.

Why even write about it? For one thing, I'm a lifelong insomniac who generally averaged only 4-5 hours of light, often-interrupted sleep most nights. When my insomnia was really cranked up, or my arthritis was flaring, that decreased to 2-3 hours. For a long time I thought I had no other option than to live with it, but meditative studies led me to some new ideas. As with writing, I absorbed everything and let it percolate, and tried new approaches to treating my insomnia. Many writers I know have similar sleep problems, so I thought I'd share what's worked for me.

Happiness and Gratitude: Toward the end of the day I herd my thoughts into two corrals: things that make me happy, and things for which I'm grateful. This is recommended by many sleep-help sources. I also try not to think about things that rile me, depress me, or make me anxious. Before bed I meditate lightly on my next day, and what I can do to be a more productive person. I know, it sounds corny, but when it comes to sleep I believe mood is a big influence.

Negative Mindset: To expand on the mood thing: because my sleep has been so poor, I've always resented it. I never went to bed feeling happy about the prospect of sleep; it always felt like an exercise in futility and a waste of my time. I think behind that resentment was a lot of dread. Anyway, I worked on my attitude and developed a mental mantra for bed time. Sleep = good. Sleep = healthy. Sleep = better day tomorrow.

No Napping: Getting up and going to bed earlier have helped a lot, but so has avoiding naps. I try not to let myself sleep anywhere unless it's in my bed at night. I stay away from the sofa and comfortable chairs where I might nod off. If I feel tired enough to nap, I get up and do some chores or take the pups out for a walk.

Positioning: I've always slept curled up on my right side, up until I started developing arthritis in that shoulder a couple of years ago. Then I went into a period of trying to sleep on my right side, having a pain flare-up, then tossing, turning, hating the bed, hating my arthritis, lather, rinse, repeat. I finally forced myself to accept that I'm never going to be able to sleep on my right side again. I then started trying different positions each night until I found the one that was most comfortable (as it happens, flat on my back.)

Sleeping Aids: I've tried a number of products that are supposed to help improve sleep time and quality, including the OTC stuff. The most success I've had with the pill form is with Alteril, although it gives me a bit of a hangover the next day (note: your mileage may vary, and always check with your doctor before you try any new medication.) These last six months I've been using more natural solutions. I have a nature-sounds device by the bed that plays the sound of rain in a continuous loop, which knocks me out. I don't know why, but it does. So does the sound of distant thunder. Chamomile tea, long soaks in the bath tub, and avoiding anything with caffeine have also helped.

Wind-down Routine: I do the same things every night as I unplug, settle, and get myself relaxed (usually by shutting off the computer and quilting, reading or journaling.) I also make sure that I've tidied the kitchen, washed the dishes, folded the laundry etc. Leaving housework unfinished makes me antsy and unhappy, two states that contribute to my insomnia.

Sleep still feels a little like a waste of my time, but I can't deny that the benefits of getting more sleep are pretty amazing. I'm writing with more focus, my moods are better and I'm getting more work done every day. I'm less inclined to lose my temper, too.

Have you found anything that has improved your sleep? Let us know in comments.

Winter Writing

While we're not getting snowed in at Casa PBW, the temperature has dropped enough for me to haul out my fall/winter wear whenever I have to venture outside. It's also changed where and when I can write away from my home office. The porch is okay most days, but not at night. Ditto for the parks; I can manage a working lunch but early mornings or late afternoons are too cold. I'm also finding most of my quiet spots in town have become incessantly noisy with shoppers, holiday music and let-loose little kids. Don't get me wrong, these are all great things -- I love seeing people enjoying the season -- but that's also why it's distracting. I spend my time people-watching instead of storytelling. As I'm working through the holidays I need to devote at least eight hours a day to writing and editing.

My daughter is also coming home for her winter break from university. I'm looking forward to spending time with her, but since I'm her favorite distraction, I will probably also need to get up earlier, get out of the house a couple hours each day, and/or work while she's sleeping (probably a combination of all three.) Today I stopped by the library, which turned out to be completely empty, and spent an hour doing some research for work. I got everything done without a single interruption. Once everyone else's kids are out of school for their holiday break that may change, but until then I might start taking the laptop or the Neo over there to write.

One cool thing I noticed about the people in my new writing group is that they wear head phones or those ear bud things and listen to music while they are writing. I never thought of doing that -- I prefer silence, and I'm so deaf now most music is just white noise to me -- but some sound-cancelling ear phones could work for me in high-traffic or Christmas-saturated areas. I have to check into how much they cost, but it seems like they'd help at home, too, when my daughter is watching TV or has friends over to visit.

What do you do to write or get work done during the holidays? Share your tips in comments.

Image credit: Creative Commons Stock Photos

Extra Crispy

I hope everyone who celebrates it had a nice Thanksgiving, and I'm sorry I've been scarce. For me insomnia + day job + Thanksgiving + evil/dark + ocular migraine = only 15 hours sleep in 5 days. I can function on 4 hours, but 3 is definitely not enough. By day five I was completely fried. Last night I finally resorted to non-narcotic sleep aid pills (Alteril, which actually works for me) and got in about 7 hours of very hard, dreamless sleep. Usually that resets my brain to go back to my normal 5-6 hours of sleep per night, but we'll see.

For these reasons and a few others I had to stop working on my NaNoWriMo novel, and obviously I won't be crossing the finish line. It was fun to give it a go and get out to the real-life write-ins (I made four before I had to throw in the towel). I'm disappointed, but I'm also starting to realize that what I want to do and what I actually can do are becoming very different things.

By the way, thanks to everyone who checked on me. You guys are the best.

I always say it's good to fail. You learn more, it keeps your ego in check, and it gives you the chance to start over and do things differently. It never feels as lovely as success, but it's good for me. It's also a bit like oatmeal. I really don't like oatmeal unless it's a cookie, but as a breakfast it's good for my heart and my plumbing. It'll never be my favorite breakfast (hot buttermilk biscuits and butter and honey and a big glass of orange juice will forever hold that title), but if I add some sliced bananas or raisins it's palatable.

So how are you all doing with your November novels? Let us know in comments.

Still Off

The technical difficulties collided with an unexpected family visitor and my carefully organized day went all to Hades. Just now I recalled that I promised to post something today, too. Please consider this something, even if it is 1:42 am. My sincere apologies, but I will be off dealing with all this until Monday.

Have a nice weekend, everyone.

Story Jinxes

Since it's Friday the Thirteenth I thought I'd admit to:

Ten of My Writing-related Superstitions

Avoidances: There are some things I avoid writing in a story (and on the blog) because they spook me or I consider them jinxes, like that lettered board people use to talk to the dead. See how I avoided writing the name of it? Ha.

Beginning Rituals: I always meditate for an hour before I start a new story. Mostly I try to empty my brain and make it into a clean slate, but I also give thanks to the universe for any creative energy it's willing to send my way. If I can't do this, I'll put off starting the new story until I can.

Coin-Flip Titles: When I can't decide between two titles I really like for a story, I flip a coin and let the Fates pick it. This is why Evermore is not titled Everlasting.

Color Cursed: Yellow has been my bad luck color for most of my adult life, although I'm trying to get over it now via therapeutic quilting. Until I do, any time you see anything yellow in my work? Definitely not a good sign.

Crazy 8s: The number 8 relates to many weird things in my personal history, and it spooks me, so I try to use it sparingly -- usually only for weird things in a story.

Do No Harm: If I do base a character on a person in the real world, I try not to kill them off in the story, as I think that's tempting Fate in a very bad way. Anything else goes, however.

Easter Eggs: I regularly embed little treasures in my stories (and I'm not going to tell you what or where they are) mainly for fun, and to see if readers are paying attention. Like anagrams (also something I regularly hide in stories) I think they're good luck.

Fabulous 14s: Fourteen is my lucky number, and I do put it somewhere in every story I write as a personal talisman. If I can't fit in the actual number somewhere, I'll use the letters of the word fourteen as a secret acronym or acrostic sentence.

Names Not Used: I try never to name characters after people I dislike, random nouns, or members of my family. I think the first is bad luck, the second is silly, and the third is creepy.

Never me: It gives me the willies when writers Tuckerize themselves to become characters. One of the reasons I stopped reading Stephen King is because he did. Thus you will never see PBW as a character in any of my stories. I will occasionally refer to myself as part of a joke, but always unnamed.

Do you have any writing superstitions? Let us know in comments.

All You Need

My daughter took these two pictures after returning to college; Hurricane Irma was responsible for the second.





Much to no one's surprise the world didn't end on Saturday. Having lived through about a dozen predicted Apocalypses I wasn't worried. Not like I could have done anything to stop a giant shadow planet from smashing into the Earth anyway.

I can do plenty of other things. Write. Quilt. Last night I brought my kid her favorite grapes and three little pumpkins so she can decorate her tiny apartment for Fall. Today I'm writing, vacumming and mopping the floors, and knocking out the laundry while my guy continues to cut up tree debris and washes the dogs. Tonight I'm making homemade stir fry for dinner. That's all I think about, versus the Apocalypse, I mean. The Apocalypse is not on my to-do list.

The graffiti is right, you know. All you need is love.

Grist vs. Gift

One metaphor that has never fit well for me is "grist for the mill." For everyone else in the world it means something that is useful for a particular purpose; for writers it's meant to describe what gives us inspiration, ideas or anything that ends up sparking or going into a story. I don't have a problem with the concept, just the word: grist. For me it immediately invokes gristle, which paired with the mill is simply disgusting, imagery-wise. I think grist is a bit heartless, too. It implies inspiration is nothing more than fodder to be ground up and used.

Since I always want to change things to suit myself, I thought about my attitude toward what inspires me. I consider things that fall into the grist/mill category as gifts from the universe. It may be magical thinking, but the universe always seems to be tossing things at me that make their way into my stories: art, Chinese cookie fortunes, colors, critters, music, odd names, phrases, scents, and textures, to mention a few.

Some of the strongest elements in the stories I write are inspired by very mundane things, too. Broken glass and an old pocket watch evolved into a dreadful superpower (Lucan's from Dark Need) and a time travel device (Disenchanted & Co.) respectively. Gifts for the mill can be very small, too, like a character name (the name Mordred from the Arthurian legend, turned inside out + e = Dredmore in my Toriana books) or something huge (apparently the Oregon Dunes helped Frank Herbert create the SF world of Dune).

Such inspirations often have intense, personal meanings for the writer as well. The photo of the pocket watch you see with this post is one I altered and made into a necklace, and is based on the time-travel device in my story, which was in turn inspired by a lovely old pocket watch I saw in an antique store on one of the best days in my life. For readers, it's a time-travel device. For me it's that and a reminder of something wonderful. Gifts remind us to be grateful and appreciative for whatever makes it into our stories, which is a bit healthier than seeing inspiration as something we can use.

So what was the last gift for the mill you received? Let us know in comments.

Jump Start Ten

Ten Things You Can Do to Jump Start Your Writing Life

Color Spark: Put together a palette of colors (DeGraeve's Palette Generator will make one for you based on any online pic you feed to it) and create a character or setting based on the color combination.

Copy That: Write cover copy for a short story or novel you want to write. If you like how it comes out, use the copy as your story outline.

Cover It: Create a book cover for a story you want to write, and hang it up in your writing space as inspiration/motivation. Or use a cover generator like this French one (input your byline in the box and pick an edition) to generate something random, and write a story based on your results.

Descriptive: Go to a beautiful spot with a notebook, pen and (optional) camera. Describe where you are and what you see in as much detail as you can in your notebook. If you bring a camera, take photos of the most interesting aspects of your spot. You now have the setting for a scene; when you get home write one.

Eavesdrop: The next time you go out (and make sure you do this discreetly/safely) take a notepad and jot down the most interesting things you hear the people around you say. When you get home, choose one or more of the things you wrote down as dialogue, and write them into a scene.

Hour Aside: Devote one hour at the same time every day to work on a writing project (or, if you don't have one, start a new project.) People with day jobs, try getting up an hour earlier -- that always works for me.

Idea Book/Journal: Start a journal of writing ideas. You can just list whatever comes to mind when you think about writing. If you already have enough story ideas, write a journal from the POV of a character.

Super Short: Write a flash fiction of 100 words or less. If you want a real challenge, write a one-sentence story.

Trunk Treasures: Unearth any old story you never finished. Take from it one element (character, dialogue, plot, setting) and use that as inspiration for a new short story.

Uncontest: Find a fee-free writing contest that intrigues you, and write a submission for that contest just for fun (note: if you finish the story in time for the contest's deadline, submitting it would be awesome.)

Waiting

Today's post is being written on my new desktop computer, Calliope. She's got awesome memory, and the latest version of Word and Excel. She also supports my ancient Microsoft Digital Imaging Suite (circa 2006) and the equally decrepit version of Adobe Acrobat I own (no date on the box, but probably about 2008). Despite the fact that I can now hook up with X-Box and Netflix and all the other bells/whistles Calliope is fully prepared to host and ring and blow for me, Word + Excel + MDIS + Acrobat is all I really need for my ghost writing gigs.

My old desktop became corrupted and unreliable a few months ago, forcing me to depend solely on my old laptop, which is actually my emergency backup computer. I was tempted to go out immediately and buy a replacement, but at the time what I could afford to spend wouldn't get me what I really needed (with a kid in college I prefer to pay cash for everything, too.)

I thought about what would be my dream computer. I wanted a lot of memory, better processing speed, and a more reliable brand, so I asked around for recommendations -- and my daughter's friends turned out to be the most helpful in that department. I researched, looked at prices, and waited some more.

It made me a little nervous to be dependent on just one old laptop, but I got into the habit of backing up everything multiple times per day, and in the meantime saved my pennies and watched for good sales. I thought I might have to wait until the holidays to find what I needed marked down. Then I spotted Calliope, marked down $180.00, at a back to school sale. She was exactly what I wanted, so I bought her. She was such a good deal that my guy also bought one for our kid to take with her to university. The icing on the cake was getting software, a printer for my kid, and protection plans at a fraction of what they usually cost, as they were also on sale (if you bought a new computer.)

While I don't like waiting for what I want, I really like getting what I want on my terms. That makes it worth the wait.

Everyday Inspiration

When I unplugged back in March I needed more than a break from the internet and the blog. I had a huge project to tackle, creative batteries in need of serious recharging, and a desire to get back to who I am (versus who everyone expects me to be for them.) This little critter here is an example of things I was missing. Over the last couple years I'd gotten so busy that I wouldn't have said okay when my kid said, "Mom, come outside and see this cool bug."

I stopped burying myself in have-tos and must-dos. I started going outside again, and taking pictures of cool bugs. I wandered a little every day, not to search for anything specific but to be open to inspiration. That cool bug (only the second mantis I've seen since we moved here) inspired a character in the novel I just finished; one who turned out so well that my client complimented me for it.

Would I have created the character without seeing the cool bug? Maybe -- but it probably would have taken longer, and the character might not have been as original. Taking five minutes to admire and photograph this little critter was just for fun, but it helped me with the work, too.

Since I am the least random person I know, I spent a couple of months doing very random things. I ordered a mystery box of modern fabric (which I don't use) and got a bunch of very graphic fat quarters in black and white with touches of gold. You should have seen my face; I've never made a black and white quilt. The point of the exercise, however, was to get out of my fussy old lady crazy quilting color junkie corner and try something new, so I made the fabric into this quilt.

The process made me appreciate modern fabrics; their deceptively simple patterns become classy and vibrant when you start putting them together. The challenge of making such graphic materials work together taught me some new tricks. Since I'm now set on making a true black and white quilt, I think it expanded my horizons a bit, too.

We tend to get complacent with our creativity. I've been doing the same things over and over because I'm pretty good at them, I don't have to think about the work involved much, and the results are predictable and positive. Whether it's quilting or writing or anything, there's nothing wrong with sticking to what you know. That said, unless we try new things once in a while, we can't grow.

What have you done lately to seek new sources of inspiration? Let us know in comments.

Back

Yes, it's really me. After 4+ months on hiatus, I've had ample time to attend to my family and freelance work, get my head and heart in the right place, do lots of other-than-writing creative things, and think about how I want to change/not change things with PBW. I don't have all the answers, but I know if I stay away much longer I'll throw in the towel -- and I'm not willing to give up on this just yet.

The long break was very good for me, writing-wise. Since I've been away I built a new universe, wrote three novels, four novellas and lots of interesting copy. I've also embarked on a new business venture that is very promising. If all goes well I should be gainfully employed until I'm ready to retire. With a kid in college who would like to go on to medical school, that financial stability is really important.

Since my career shift from traditionally-published author to freelance writer I've been struggling with what to do with the blog. I know what I don't want, and what I can't do. Politics are not my thing. I haven't been reading much for pleasure, and while I love books I don't want to review them anymore (but I will knock out what I owe Library Thing; just off the blog.) I'm not inclined to self-publish anything but free reads, so there's no point getting into the whole indy pub stuff. I'm not able to talk about my job except in the most general of terms, so that's off the table, too.

PBW needs to evolve into something else. That's where the question marks come in. I've been having a lot of fun over at Tumblr with my non-writing projects, and I'd like to do a writing version of that here. While NDAs prevent me from sharing details about what I'm working on, I can still talk about the process, neat things I find that help with the work, and anything that helps boost the quality and productivity of the writing life. I am and always will be passionate about that.

There are also a few things about my work that I can still share, too. For example, my French publisher did this amazing cover for their edition of The Clockwork Wolf. I'm thinking about writing a sequel to Ghost Writer for NaNoWriMo this year, and posting my draft online so everyone can follow the process. I'm looking around for a new desktop computer, and doing lots of research on that. I'm getting back out with the camera and taking pictures, mainly of architecture, to help with world-building and making covers for my free reads.

I've missed you all, too, and I want to hear what you've been up to -- so if you're still speaking to me, let me know in comments.

Marching On

Time gets away from us, doesn't it? When I'm working I hardly have any awareness of it, how much has elapsed, the hours I spend in my writing space, etc. On those occasions when I'm in the zone I forget time altogether. The dogs often have to remind me that it's the hour for our walk, or to start dinner (they get fed when we eat, but they always want theirs early) or even when I should be in bed instead of at the computer.

I've always been like this, which is why I have so many calendars and planners and such. Without them I'd be entirely clueless as to the date. It is Monday, right?

I have no idea what happened to February, but it's poofed, vanished, gone. Last time I checked the calendar it was February 24th. I woke up this morning and it's March 6th. I can tell you I spent the last week of February and the first week of March building, fine-tuning and mapping out a new universe for a client. At the same time I've been putting together my series notebook, ordering research books, and getting settled in for the long haul, writing-wise. In the process most of the personal stuff I had planned for February poofed on me, too.

Back in January I started working on a tote to take to the county quilt show and share some new ideas I had with my sewing sisters. I had basically a month to get it done, and I didn't. So I took the unfinished work to the show, and got teased for being overly-ambitious. Still shared my ideas, which was thing most important to me. I might start working on next year's show project as soon as I finish this one, though.

Despite the inexplicable time jump from February to March I got the important personal stuff done: the family and the dogs are cared for, the house is relatively clean, and the laundry is under control. I'm almost ready for the next visitor. Sometime today I need to go grocery shopping or we're having soup and sandwiches again, but other than restocking the pantry and the fridge, I'm good to go for March.

I used to beat myself up for not finishing things according to plan. Only when I realized that I will always plan more than I can actually do did I stop smacking myself over things undone.

Time marches on. Yesterday (and really, it seems like just yesterday) I brought my youngest home from the hospital after a nineteen-hour labor with a midwife supervising the delivery. This past week she flew to Washington DC for a science conference. On her own -- this because she's not a newborn; she's a grown woman. Between these two events in her life and mine there were twenty-three years, but from my POV it might as well be twenty-three minutes.

Time does not wait for you to notice it. It is a perpetual army of moments, indifferent to you and on the move forever. Our lives and our time here are finite, so make the most of yours.

Writing 2017

I spotted this multi-sub op over in the Paying Markets forum at AbsoluteWrite.com:

"We are a horror fiction magazine open to submissions! This will be for our April Issue, both in Print and on Kindle. It is our second issue. Our Featured Author for this issue is Jack Ketchum. We'll be open for about a month!

Pay for Short Stories is $50 plus a print copy. As an added bonus, we do not maintain copyrights over your work. As soon as we publish, the rights return to you.

We also accept:
Poetry
Flash Fiction
Creative Non-Fiction

And, if you'd like to review, there may be a spot open for that as well.

Visit us to find out more! We have a bunch of shenanigans going on!

www.deadlightsmagazine.com"

Instantly reverting rights and shenanigans are always good things in my POV, so you horror writers should check it out.

We're already past the middle of January, which leaves eleven months and eleven days to write in 2017. My count for the month is already 55K, so I feel like I've started as I mean to go on, and I need to. I'm currently working out with the clients what I will write for the next eight months, and beyond that I've been reserved to write until December, so there's even more to do before 2017 wraps.

Working out a writing schedule for an entire year can seem daunting, especially for the organically minded, but it's really just a matter of deciding what you want to do and how much time you want to devote to it. Most pros eventually figure out what they can comfortably/reliably produce, and (unless they're superstars who can do whatever they like and still make millions) map their time out accordingly so they know what and how much to pitch in advance.

Here are some tips to help you plan your 2017 writing year:

Calculate your daily count: Write at a pace that's good for you for a week or a month, and keep track of your total wordcount. Divide the total by the number of days it took you to write that, and you'll learn your daily count, or how much you can write in a day. This should allow you to calculate how long it will take you to finish any project.

Get a writing calendar or planner: 2017 Calendars are super cheap right now, and devoting one strictly to your writing schedule will keep all your plans and quotas in one place. You can also use a digital version on your computer or your phone.

Factor in time off: Unless you live by yourself, write seven days a week, and never leave the house, there will be days when you can't/won't write, so it's a good idea to know when your holidays, family events, vacations, etc. land on your year. Mark these on your writing calendar first so you can see them while you're scheduling your writing time.

Allow recharging space: Try to take a little time off from writing every month to allow the well to refill, recharge your creative batteries, etc. This month I'm taking only be a couple of days, but next month I've reserved a weekend for fun and two days to attend the county quilt show.

Have a reward system for making your goals: I get paid by the clients when I finish their projects, but that's my income. I've found that having a little reward to look forward to helps keep me motivated, so I make a point to give myself one every time I do make those goals. Rewards don't have to be big or expensive things, but they should be something you really like. For example, last week I took my daughter out for lunch at a neat Japanese restaurant we both like, and this pic is the bento box lunch I had, which was a delicious reward.

Are you going to schedule your writing year? Got any tips to share? Let us know in comments.

Working the Holidays

In the past I sometimes tried to take off work for the month of December to enjoy the holidays and recharge my batteries, and Publishing generally cooperated because they shut down almost entirely, too. Since going freelance, however, I've chosen to work seven days a week. I do take time for family dinners and events (and I actually gave myself Thanksgiving Day off this year) but other than that I am writing for at least eight hours every single day of the year.

It's no big deal for me; I'm doing what I love for terrific clients who appreciate me and pay me very well for my efforts. That income covers my kid's college tuition, my bills and keeps the pantry stocked. My guy may have to retire next year, so what I can save also will help when we transition to living on his fixed income. It will be another decade or so before I can retire, so I'm determined to make the most of the income-earning years I have left. If that means working through the holidays, I'm on board.

Family and friends with day jobs and/or who aren't writers -- which, let's face it, is practically everyone in a writer's life -- do not always understand a writer's working holiday. We hear things like, "Oh, you can type that up later" or "Shouldn't you take a break?" or even "Can't you get that done already so we can have a good time?" They seem oblivious to the fact that through the rest of the year we face the same harassment from all directions. During the holidays it's also easy to feel resentful because the day jobbers usually do have weekends and Christmas Day to party while we're stuck in our writing space trying to get things done.

Let's remind ourselves of the universal truths about writing:

1. No one but another writer will ever grasp what you do for your job. So why justify it to people who never will?

2. Writers have a long-standing rep as solitary, long-suffering, socially awkward and badly-dressed hermits. I know, you're thinking, "And why is that a problem?" but the nice people who aren't us don't get it.

3. They will never know what goes into the work, and if they did, they might lock us up.

Seriously, you can navigate the rough waves of a writer's working holiday by using your common sense. Unless you're under a crushing deadline, set aside some time for your friends and family. If you can't, make a date to see them after you slay your deadline (for this you will have to apologize, but it's better than a no.)

Send some cards and/or make a phone call. The reason these people bother you so much is because they care about you. Or they want a gift. Anyway, a cheerful card or a quick fifteen-minute conversation may get you off the hook.

Do group things so you can see as many loved ones as possible in one shot. A family holiday party isn't that difficult to throw together -- have everyone bring a dish and make it pot luck; that's always fun -- and you can check off a bunch of names from your to-see list.

Ask for time off from the family fun as a personal favor for you. I have no problem at all saying to my guy "You can handle dinner for the next three days, okay?" or "I'm going to work at the library today; please walk the dogs for me" any time during the year. This week he's been especially wonderful in helping me out around the house and running errands so I can finish a deadline project today.

Finally, put in the time for family and friends when you need to. It's easy to forget the people you care about when you're buried in the work, but it doesn't hurt to make an effort for them, too. For example: I was going to put up another off-to-write post and unplug today, but I haven't been around much. So here you go, fifteen minutes of me. Now I really am off to write.

Coach Not

Over the course of my career I've been asked by a bunch of people to be a mentor to a struggling writer they know. 75% of the time this is their son or daughter, so it's a touchy situation. It's generally because the parent wants a writer in the family (why? search me), or the kid wrote a poem, a short story, or something that won a contest. The other reason is the parent is an expert at getting their kid coaching from a pro, the way a kid who plays baseball is sent to an exclusive summer camp or training school run by some former major league player. Either way I get a phone call or an e-mail or a message via a mutual friend asking for help. There was a very inventive lady who even tried to use my kid to get to me for her kid.

I like kids, and consulting with an experienced professional writer in person in this area means contacting me or a guy who writes travel books, who I imagine gets all the nonfiction-related requests. It's not amazing how often they manage to hunt me down, as I'm fairly well-known to teachers, librarians and indie bookstore owners around here. Here's a typical encounter:

1. The parent initiates contact by telling me how lovely it is to meet me. Even thought they've never actually read any of my books, I'm assured that I come highly recommended as a really decent writer. I am polite.

2. The parent then admits they would rather be talking to Stephen King, as he's much more successful, but he never replies to their calls/e-mails/mutual friend messages. Then, very casually, the parent asks if I know Steve. They phrase it like that, too: "Do you know Steve?" like they already do and we might have him as a mutual acquaintance, but what they really hope is that I do because I'd represent one more shot at getting to him. I say no, sorry. I'm not sorry, but again, it's polite.

3. The parent launches into a roughly 85 page single-spaced synopsis of how they discovered Junior was meant to be a writer, how well Junior writes, what makes Junior different from and superior to every other kid in the world who writes, the last thing Junior wrote, etc. I listen to this and some wildly unrealistic expectations on all the great lit Junior is going to produce, if only someone in the biz would share their insight/wisdom/fairy dust and somehow magically compel the kid to write. Let me translate this for you: that would be me. Tragically, I fail to take the hint.

4. At this point I almost always receive a copy of Junior's poem, short story or contest win, which the parent asks me to honestly critique. What they really want is to hear how brilliant it is, so I always refuse. Very politely, too. This is their child's creative work. The Hope Diamond is not as valuable to them.

5. The now frustrated-but-hiding-it parent tries to set up a play date for me and the kid so we can meet and talk about Junior's future in the Publishing industry, or they ask me to contact the kid via phone or e-mail with some encouraging thoughts, which I must again very politely refuse. I am not much of a play dater. I used to do the contact thing, but after an editor's kid tried to sell my encouraging words on eBay I admit, I got a little jaded.

While all this is going on, I'm always thinking the same thing: Thank you, Mom, for never doing this to me. I don't say that, though. This is what I say:

1. I think it's wonderful that Junior is so talented. (Always praise the kid first. It's a nice thing to do.)

2. I don't mentor other writers because I barely have enough time to do my own work and take care of my home and family. (Always true, never believed. Like when I tell non-writers that I don't make millions off my books.)

3. I recommend things like online resources and free writing classes, NaNoWriMo, and the few books on writing that I think are worth the cover price. Oddly I never recommend Stephen King's, which I think like most of his stuff is really more of a memoir put through a wood chipper on acid. I usually mention James Scott Bell and Sage Cohen.

The end result: 99.9% of the time, the parent thanks me in the same tone I use to tell telemarketers to stop calling my house. I then never hear from them again. I'm guessing it's because I should have flung myself at this marvelous chance to browbeat their budding writer into the next Stephen King.

Seriously, I do understand how parents can get their hopes up, but I really don't know how mentorship can turn anyone into a writer. Then again, I'm self-taught in nearly everything I do outside of cooking and cleaning. Since turning pro I've picked up a lot from some older/wiser authors who chose to share their experience, opinions and advice with me. I've gotten some great stuff from new and inexperienced writers as well. I listen, but mainly I rely on myself, self-study, trial and error, and a lot of practice. I share what I know about writing here, but it's mostly me talking shop because I love to talk shop. Also, I'm not holding a gun to your head to make you read it. If you stop in and like it, great. If you don't, you won't come back to read more, great.

If you have a child or a family member who loves to write, there is a lot you can do to help them. First, don't look for ways to push them -- be supportive instead. You can provide them with the tools they need by taking a more practical approach. If they need writing supplies, buy them. If they need time to write, or a dedicated space to write in, arrange it for them. Take them to the book store and buy them a new journal or how-to writing book. Get them a library card. Let them have your old laptop. The key is to provide them with what they really need to write: writing stuff.

No one in my family really believed I would end up being a professional writer. Back then it simply wasn't something girls did. Do you want to know what I consider the greatest thing my mother ever did for me as a writer? She got me a secondhand Royal Academy manual typewriter, on which I wrote my first novel. Until she did I wrote everything in longhand. I think having a typewriter that could keep up with my thoughts is what really got me hooked on writing. So there you go.

Springy

Spring has delivered a lot of surprises this year. The cardinals are now both occupying my little maple by the porch to feed and watch over their triplets, which means if I'm very quiet I can snap pics like these through the screen:





The new parents will have plenty to feed this kids, too, as April is our month for plagues of moth catepillars. Usually we only have to deal with buck and tussock moths catepillars (they both sting), but I'm seeing some new varieties, like this one in the the yard right where I walk the dogs every day:



My best guess by comparing my pic to photos on the web is that it's a salt marsh catepillar, which isn't supposed to sting. My personal policy is not to touch anything with spines, so I scooped him up with a spade to relocate him.

In the mail I got my latest ARC from Library Thing's Early Reviewer Program:



So now I have something new to read in between stalking cardinals and ferrying catepillars.

What has spring delivered to your doorstep? Let us know in comments.

Progressing

This year I decided to take on two personal projects that I've successfully kept secret since January. One is nearing the finish line, so I'm ready to share that one: lose 30 pounds by summer. So far I've lost 22 pounds, primarily by making better food choices, not snacking, and exercising more often. 8 more pounds to go and I'll nail that one. I'm going to keep up with my diet and exercise changes for the rest of the year and see how much more I can trim down; I need to lose 50 pounds altogether to be at my healthiest weight (but losing 30 will be just fine with me.)

It's harder for me to lose weight now that I'm older. I've become more sedentary, I tire more easily and I've been making too many food bargains with myself. Since I can't have sugar, and I've trained myself to abstain entirely now, my body always craves fatty things. For example, I love cheese and crackers, and would tell myself I was being healthy by eating them instead of a piece of cake or some cookies. Which as any nutritionist can tell you is just not true. Giving up fat-laden snacks and switching to raw veggies or fruit was really hard, but I did it. Part of my goal was also to stop snacking between meals, and get those extra calories out of my daily diet, and I've managed that for the most part. Now when I want something to snack on I usually drink a big glass of water, tea or juice . . . but I still give the cracker box a wistful look. So while I'm confident I'll lose the last 8 pounds, I still need to work on my food attitudes.

There are some downsides with every success. I'm currently a size right in between the big girl clothes and skinny girl clothes in my wardrobe, so I have only a couple of outfits that actually fit me right now. Like all dieters in progress I don't want to buy any new clothes until my weight is where I want it. My guy liked to take me out to eat once a week, which was a nice break for me, but restaurant food is not on my plan. Diets are really boring, too; sometimes I think if I see another skinless chicken breast or spinach salad I think I'll take a sledge hammer to them. But all this goes with the territory, and when I weigh myself on Fridays and see that I've shed another pound or two, it still seems worth it.

The other thing I decided to do is something I'll keep under wraps until the end of the year (unless someone else blows the whistle on me), and that's been a lot of fun. With this project I've been able to step out of my comfort zone and try some new things. I've also acquired a new space in my creative life where I can retreat to and just be myself without any fanfare or expectations. I didn't realize how much I needed that until I gave this a whirl.

What progress have you made on any goals or projects you planned for 2016? Let us know in comments.

Rush

Last night I got completely absorbed in a story I'm ghost writing. After I posted my Just Write pages, I thought I'd just work another hour on my ghostie before hitting the sack myself. The next time I looked at the clock it was 6:21 a.m. and I had written five thousand new words. At my age staying up for forty-eight hours straight isn't an option anymore, so I went to bed and woke up five hours later. A cup of tea later I went straight back to the story. I finally wrote the muse into a snooze about ten minutes ago, which is when I realized I hadn't scheduled anything to post in my absence this morning. Sorry, everyone.

I'm tired, but also elated. I haven't pulled an all-nighter in a while, and I'll definitely pay for it with my sleep schedule being completely flipped now, but it was worth it. I really don't do this that often, but when I do I treasure it. This week if I feel hesitant about the work, or start second-guessing myself, I'll remember last night, when everything just poured out of me like a waterfall. It helps me trust myself to recall that I can put words on the page without my doubts or worries getting between them, and work way past my bedtime without even be aware of it.

Now if only I could stay in the zone for another week . . . no, honestly, I'd collapse. That's the other side of this. As we age our bodies won't tolerate what they did when we were youngsters. So I will be a good girl and get my sleep schedule back on track, and smile every once in a while when I think about last night.