My Book Launch Extravaganza

Is this the last door I have to walk through?

Thus far I haven't had much success in marketing my books. I have tried many things and none of them have really made a difference in sales. Let's take a look...

1. Blog tours - after contacting multiple websites (like almost 100) I got one site interested...if I had my book in paper form.
2. Soliciting honest reviews - no one followed through.
3. Book giveaways - this only generated moderate interest...
4. Asking people to talk about the book (friends etc) - no one did, except maybe my dad...and a couple true believers (who I really love for their devotion)
5. Publishing multiple books in one calendar year - not as much profit generation as you might think.
6. Guest posts on other blogs - only got one or two to happen.
7. Goodreads - cut off self-published entries and is not hooked up to any social media so...why?
8. Connecting with other writers - just a lot of stress from people who are fumbling around just as much as I was
9. Wattpad - still not sure how to connect with readers here...
10. Twitter - not really my market for my books so just led to a bunch of mutual following without many sales.
11. Facebook groups - asking for help...few responses if ANY
12. Facebook pages - minor interest/reach with few sales if any
13. Signing up for mentors - none
14. Asking for mentors in entrepreneur organizations - uh....NONE
15. Having scheduled blog posts - I have no idea how this influences sales...or doesn't. My following and favorites on Twitter has increased because of this and definitely my Facebook engagement increased. But sales? Hmm.
16. Getting published in literary magazines or websites - I wouldn't know because even with extensive research on the zines/sites, I still haven't gotten published here. I think this is in part because my stories are too...political and generally dark. No one wants to read about dystopian reproductive rights...says the average genre journal...
17. Sending book launch press kits to media outlets - zip...and no coverage (This is after I modeled my press kit after those available on line and had people who submit these REGULARLY check them out for viability.)

So you see, I've tried A LOT of stuff. I have. But I never tried a serious launch.

Which is what I'm doing now.

My goal is to have THRIVE, my upcoming memoir/self-help book available for pre-order on Smashwords by May 15 (goal remember...) and outright purchase June 15. Along with this, I plan to have a journal guide/daily meditation book available along the same lines as the book (to be used during or after reading, although it could be stand alone) available one the same dates.

I am being really aggressive. In preparation for the launch, I am designing/building an author website (finally!), revamping my current library (Read: double extra special proofing of text as well as redoing/sprucing cover art AND revamping book descriptions etc). I have a social media campaign strategy which I will be asking for help on (and participants will receive huge thanks in video and the website). I will be developing a press kit and will send this out to all the media outlets I know, and possibly organizations with interests related to the topics in THRIVE.

This is a big deal. I am very passionate about this book because I am doing something with it that I have never done - I am revealing myself. More than anything I've produced, this is important to me and it must do well. It must because through the vulnerability of my revelation, I can help people. Yes, the success would be nice for me, but the purpose of this isn't me. It is about helping people, changing perspectives, and making an impact for the better. I am committed to this, burned bridges behind me, burned the boats...however you want to think about it. Because once this book is published, there are no take backs. It cannot be undone.

And that is scary. And exciting. And thus...I will do something else I have never done - a real book launch.

In the time leading up to May 15 and June 15, I will periodically blog about the process and the book (hopefully will get some guest posts going at a few other sites). I will let everyone know when the website is up (hopefully by May 15). And of course, I will probably have a few videos (hopefully) about the book and available on the website and my YouTube channel (which I've largely ignored to this point).

It's a big deal. It's a big plan with an aggressive timeline and multi-prong approach. It's big. And it's kinda my last shot. It's kinda all of the eggs.

I'm pretty sure it will work. I'm crossing my fingers.

Don't Be a Writer

Note: This was written to advise those thinking about pursuing, or contemplating a more professional trajectory into writing. Because, you need to know, if you didn't already, what it is really like.

The early days of a starving artist...

My dear aspiring writer, don't. Don't be a writer. This is not a job you should choose. If there is anything else you would enjoy doing, do that. This is especially true if you have remotely thin skin because you will have to defend your choice at every turn. You will have to defend your craft and your creation. This is because from the very earliest part of a writing career, you are constantly attacked.

First, everyone will tell you it is impossible. They will say it a thousand times. They will say only the superstars make it. No one, however, knows what makes a superstar, and when you ask these people how superstars become superstars, they will name someone who already made it in another field with a ghostwritten book about said field. The other true writing stars? They paid whatever dues all writers must pay and that process remains a mystery to everyone, even the stars.

Everyone will say no one knows what makes a successful book. In fact, this is one thing everyone agrees on. Family and friends don't know how writing can be successful. Agents and writers don't know what books will be successful. No one in publishing understands people's tastes. Shitty writers can make millions of sales while pure genius prose can be used as drink coasters for Big Gulps. So if you can't handle that level of unknown, just don't bother writing.

If you're impatient, you really shouldn't write. The submission process involves a painful amount of waiting. You have to submit to a thousand agents to get a read through if you are anything like the other millions of people doing the same thing. And these agents will send you letters, time and again, saying it isn't quite right. They aren't interested in repping a book they aren't totally passionate about, and your book just doesn't do it for them. They send these notes anywhere from a week after receiving your query, to never. You might never get a response at all and will have to infer that your writing just wasn't good enough for them to be your advocate.

Some people will say you should get a few stories published and that will help your chances. Maybe having a few published pieces will convince agents it is worth taking a chance on you. But you have to find the right home for your stories. You might read a bunch of magazines and think you found the right one, but your opinion doesn't matter. It's the editor's opinion that matters. And so you get rejected. Again.

Others will say, write some articles! And the process repeats with the addition of some head banging against either a table top, a wall, or both.

Finally someone will say, why don't you self-publish? But of course, self-publishing is looked down upon by pretty much everyone. You can't be writing good work if you self-publish, even though a lot of “superstars” go on to self-publish, and a lot of self-published authors go on to be picked up by traditional publishers (only after they have sold thousands upon thousands of copies under their own steam). And so many other people have self-published and have nothing to show for it. Your chances are slim, even if you follow every book marketing guru's instructions for success. After all, they have no idea what makes for a successful book.

Determined, you read more writing blogs. You read about the successes and failures of your superstars. You try to fit into the molds of different agents and publishing houses. You try to fit into the molds of the market. You make a thousand mistakes. You try again. You make more mistakes. You try again. You open a bottle of whiskey and chug half of it. You write. You lay awake at night with terrible heartburn wishing you knew what to do, that someone would mentor you to success. You rewrite. You think if you could just figure out the magical formula that mixes lead and snake oil you could get gold.

You write every day for months on end. You blog. You comment on other writers' work. You read. You drink the other half of the whiskey bottle mixed with Ethiopian coffee brewed in your French press, because this is what you have in your kitchen to eat. You have become the epitome of the starving artist. It happened some time between the first set of agent queries and one of the rounds of rejections from literary zines. You lose weight. You wear thrift shop clothes that make Macklemore proud. You only buy generic food from the grocery store, and at some point you will finally break down and go to the food pantry when your last bit of pride is stripped away.

But then, you get an email back. It is unexpected. It is a single website where you thought your work would fit in perfectly. They want to print it. SUCCESS! You got an article posted on a website besides your free blog! You're going somewhere! You're a real writer!

That iota of affirmation is all you needed to get through another series of grueling rejections of another piece of your creative soul.

The dream isn't dead. It just got a fresh shock back to life. But never fear, you'll feel this again. And again. Always just on the brink of death, you'll get jolted, pulled back in by that horrible temptress hope.

So don't be a writer. It promises a lifetime of psychological masochism. Be an accountant, or a paralegal. Be a mid-level manager in a large corporation. You'll have a regular salary and so much less psychic pain.

But if there is nothing else that you can do – if it is impossible for you to stop writing – then you must write. You can never be happy doing anything else. You will never be fulfilled. You will never have solace. You will carry the burden of creation within you and without the pen and paper, the keys and screen, you will explode. Or worse, you will rot, the stories inside their womb, dead, festering, spreading their necrosis across your spirit. It will affect every relationship. It will affect every interaction. It will mark every second of your life – with that horrible longing ache that comes when words must be written, when ideas crave expression.

No one will think worse of you publicly for becoming a writer. They will praise your courage and bravery – your commitment to the craft. They will tell you time and again how they always wanted to write a book but never had the time, the energy, or a single coherent idea. If you have completed manuscripts they will fawn over you. If you have published anything, even independently, they will gush over you, amazed they met someone, anyone, with enough discipline and courage to not only finish, but share their vulnerable creation with the world. They will marvel at you, that despite all the reasons not to be a writer, you chose it, and continue to, not because you are a masochist, but the very opposite; because you hate pain.

Because if you are a writer by birth, and do not write, your existence is sheer agony. In this case, it is much better to write, much better to subject yourself to that Promethean submission process. Then at least, there is some chance of relief. This is the curse of the writer, the burden you must bear if you are a writer. If there is no choice.

But, if you can choose, by all means, choose something else. This vocation is not for the weak of heart.

Help Me: Alexis and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Weekend

What I can't lose

It started on Friday. Christian woke up with hives and swelling everywhere. His hands were swollen. His ankles were swollen. His eyes were practically shut. I called urgent care. They wanted to know about his breathing.

"It's fine."
"Okay, well then come in here."

We went, and through the course of check in, I find out our insurance has lapsed through one thing or another (auto-debit never went through...they never contacted us...whatever the case). Then it becomes clear, despite Christian's job (or because of it?), we can't actually afford our insurance premiums. This, thanks to our collected loans, and other responsibilities (which are small compared to most households, but that's all we can manage).

I have a melt down in the waiting room.

It ends up being okay. Only just. Christian takes meds. The swelling goes down more and more. The hives abate, for the most part.

I feel like something needs to change, but I can't seem to get any interviews for jobs I do apply for, that would make childcare possible. I can't sleep well, ransacking my mind for ways that I might actually be able to support us - paths that we could pursue that would actually make a difference for our family.

Fast forward to Sunday.

My son sticks a piece of a toy in his mouth and it gets stuck. It's awkward. It's hard to remove. He's freaking out. He's coughing. His face is turning purple. My mommy sense kicks in and I reach into his mouth and yank it out myself. He is shocked. He is horrified. He cries. He wants to nurse. There is no good place. My shirt is not really the best kind for this sort of thing. We're in the middle of the restaurant, completely exposed. Christian takes him for a walk. He comes back. He wants to stay cradled in my lap. He eats half a sweet potato fry.

He cries. He grabs at me, clearly wanting to nurse. I don't finish my lunch. Christian gets everything except our child, who I am carrying in my arms, across a huge parking lot. He's over 25 pounds, wriggling, kicking, crying, and all the while grabbing at my chest to nurse. I am just trying to keep him in the middle of my body so I don't throw my alignment off worse than it is.

We get to the car. It is hot. It is small. We cram into the back seat and miraculously he's able to latch. He gets distracted and starts playing with things. We relatch. He gets distracted. We relatch. I'm  sweaty and cranky and still in shock from lunch. He gets distracted again, and I make an executive decision and put him into his car seat.

Christian declares he can't drive because of his meds. Fine. I get in the driver's seat. I'm not totally aware of how I'm still upset, but I do what I have to do. This is what I do everyday. I make it work. I check everything, I back up. The car directly behind me is backing up too. I stop. She keeps backing up, but there is no way she can move her car enough. I honk my horn. She bumps me.

I put the car in neutral and the brake on. I get out of the car and look at our bumper. Our car is over 10 years old. Hers is too. There are no dents. There are no scrapes. I see no marks on her car whatsoever, though ours has some old ones from something I can't recall.

"It was just one of those things. I looked left and you looked right," the woman says. I look at the cars again and nod. I'm upset, but no harm no foul.

There's a loud honk from behind me. I look over and there is a car. i stare the driver down. She motions as though she wants to get through - between the two cars who just had an accident. She doesn't smile at me. She doesn't wave or anything. I get into my car and this driver has the gall to drive right between our cars, before either one of us has time to move out of the way. I had visions of chasing her down, of beating her window, of taking my teenage carkeys along her freshly washed California Prius and giving her a nice cursive message to immortalize the occasion.

"Thanks you fucking bitch!" These are the words I thought because she didn't know everything I'd been through this weekend. She didn't realize I had visions of losing not only my husband and best friend, but also the fragile financial security I have. She didn't realize that I had visions of losing my son to a piece of irregularly shaped plastic just moments before. She didn't realize that I had just carried this upset, frightened little boy, wriggling, and crying, at over 25 pounds, the distance of several city blocks. She didn't realize that I had just crammed into my back seat, so that same frightened little boy, could feel an ounce of comfort before being strapped down so he could be transported safely away. She didn't realize all those things, but she did see my car bumper get tapped.

I don't know what that Prius driver had going on in her own life, but I think she could have managed a few seconds wait time to allow a young mother a little less stress to an already stressful event.

So when I did finally get my car going, and make my way out of the parking lot and on to surface street, it was amidst utterly raw weeping. Christian offered to take the wheel, but I refused. I refused in part because I did not want to move from that spot. I did not want to get out of the car. I could not take my hands from the wheel, so instead, I wept. I sobbed until my throat hurt - until the sound was impossible, until it refused to claw from my throat. The tears continued to flow from my swollen eyes. I would sniff. I would take a few gasping breaths, and this was enough to allow that wracking sound from my throat again.

I cried so hard, so long, I started to cough. I started to choke. I calmed enough to breathe. I wept some more. I wept the entire drive to my in-laws' house.

"If anyone makes any kind of comment to me, I cannot be held responsible for what I will say back. I cannot!" I said as I turned down their street. Christian nodded.

"Okay. I understand. Just go straight to the guest room. It's fine."

I parked the car. I wiped salt from my cheeks - just salt tracks because of the drought. I got out, not looking back, not thinking. I went straight to the guest room where our son takes his nap. Christian laid him down beside me, whimpering and half asleep from the car ride.

As I lay there, nursing my sleepy toddler, I breathed deeply, my limbs trembling.

I can't handle anything else. I can't. I need a break - I need to catch a break. I don't have anything left. No patience. No resources. No stamina. I am running on empty. I am bare. I am raw. I don't know what I will do if something else happens. I don't know what else I can do besides what I am doing.

So I write this, raising my hands up, empty and asking...help me.

Ignoring the News

Sunflowers to brighten the day...

I seriously need to stop reading the news. Just completely. I need a news detox. I need fluffy cats, fuzzy bunnies, and baby videos. Lots of silly baby videos. And Saturday Night Live. Some Tina Fey.

Part of the reason is I get so pissed off when I read it. Part of it is I get so depressed. I lose faith in humanity and the world generally. I just get this awful aching feeling in my gut and that small voice in my head says,

"See. We are going to Hell in a hand basket. Soda and peanuts for a charge..."

I wonder if the world will be okay for my son. What will happen to him? I wonder if I will continue to see the blue sky and green grass, or if we are doomed to super winters in some places and legendary droughts in others...forever. For the rest of my life. For the rest of his.

I wonder why leaders think it is a good idea to go to war when we aren't taking care of our recent vets, let alone civilians at home.

I wonder why people intentionally want to hurt others while couching it in terms of "personal choice" or "maintaining national identity."

Looking at pictures of new babies on my social media feed and I think, what do they have to look forward to? Is it enough to be fed, be loved, and have a place to sleep? Is that enough? Because it feels like nothing else is certain.

Despite these feelings of desperation and depression, I cling to my one true solace - my one true love - my words. Precious, perfect, wonderful words. At least I write the light as well as the dark. That is some solace. And maybe someone reading it will be impacted in a positive way. I can't know. I can only hope. But the hope is what keeps me going.

My most consuming project is not Khloe, though I love that series and gives me hope. No. My most consuming project is dark, difficult, and real. It really happened. That is what makes it so painful, so awful. And I relive it as I write. I relive every second. Anyone who has experienced what I have knows this. When you write, when you talk, it is being back there. And I don't do it because I hate myself, or I want to beat myself up. I relive every second in hopes the lessons I learned, my experiences, were not a simple personal thing, but something that others can grab on to. I want someone else to read about me and know, in her heart of hearts, "I am more than this," and "I am not alone."

We are never alone. I hold on to this thought every day.

There is my husband, who can make me laugh at the drop of a hat. He has this magical ability to crack my mother into hysterics, which makes everyone laugh, because its such a strange full body thing, she gives herself over to the experience so completely. It is such a joy to see someone else enjoying life. It is infectious and I can't help but crack into hysterics along with her.

I look at my son, who both relieves and creates stress. He relieves it because he is full of smiles and laughs, and play. He is full of wonder and life and love and I can't get enough of it. He is a source of stress, not because of the tantrums and the buttons he pushes. He is a source of stress because I know the evil in the world, and I wish he will never experience it...but he will. We all do at some point. We all know evil. There is no avoiding it. And that stresses me the hell out, because I know, even if I do everything right, I cannot protect him from the world.

So I need to avoid the news. I need to forget about Brian Williams and other talking head lies. I need to avoid the fact that police and civilians alike shoot and kill each other over the most mundane and preposterous awful things. I need to forget that women still fight for a voice, and alternative genders struggle to have even the space straight women have. I need to forget that war rages, and violence stains hands and dirt. I need to ignore the fact that we may have killed our species through some Icarus type hubris.

So please, send me your best cat videos. Send me your fuzzy bunny memes and your witty sketch and improv comedy. Recommend a good guided meditation and a fantastic quantum physics article about how small and pointless this human experience is in the vastness of space. I need a break.

Two Projects Are Better Than One

I say two projects, but really I'm talking about three or four.

I'm a busy girl, so sue me!

As you may have seen, I published my first non-fiction book last week (52 Lists) and I have another two non-fiction pieces that I'm hoping to have edited etc by the end of April.

I've been talking a lot about my dream inspired book, but what you don't know is that I stopped working on it temporarily. I got stuck. I couldn't come up with the right scenarios and backdrops for the subsequent chapters, so I couldn't continue writing the book at this point. I'm just not sure where to take it and I haven't had a chance to brainstorm with Christian (who has been a great help in structuring that book).

If I want to continue with my 2014 master writer plan, I can't afford to get stuck. I have to keep moving forward. So what did I do? I moved on to the next fiction book in my list.

Fans will be pleased.

I've been writing the conclusion of the Khloe Alwell series. i'm about half-way done (or atleast a third anyway). It's going really well, so I may end up writing this straight through (I hope).

If I only had one thing to work on without any ideas (or unfinished manuscripts) waiting in the wings, I would have been in a horrible situation in relation to my writing goals this year. The moral of the story? As many people will tell you not to work on more than one project, don't listen. Sometimes it's helpful to keep a few things in the wings. I don't recommend constantly jumping from project to project, but having something that you can jump to when you hit writer's block is definitely a good way to keep up momentum.

As it is, I'm generally writing twice as many words working on Khloe than I did working on the other fiction piece even though I have about the same amount of time to write (Which may be increasing now that my baby can play by himself for periods of time! Yessss!).

Writer's block? Nah. Second project for the win!

One Week Later - 2014 Writing Plan In Action

I can't believe it took me this long to figure out the best way to divide and conquer writing! Why didn't I do this before?!

So far reaching my daily goal has been very doable for me. When I have a day that I can't for some reason, I just make up the difference the next day. I've been following this plan for a week and I'm actually a little ahead of my word count goals AND I'm finished with my first book and have moved onto the second which may be finished sooner than I expected.

Phew!

Things are moving faster than I anticipated in part because my word counts were just estimates. In some cases they were pretty far off (50% off for several of the non-fiction pieces). It also helps that I had some of the writing done already (in one form or another). In short, I'm jamming. It's a great place to be. It's a place of power.

I feel so empowered by the movement on my 2014 writing plan, I'm already aggressively pursuing other things (after I meet my word count daily that is!), including where we want to live etc. I've been doing yoga every night along with journaling. The whole thing has made my life so much clearer. I feel like a completely different person.

Now that I've taken some of the clear steps I have to figure out the next ones - such as promotion (i.e. how to get the readers), how to get the house, the car, and make the connections I need to make. I wanted to share my immediate joy with you now, and let you know how helpful I've found this process so far. Next time (or at least soon) I'll share with you some of the insights I've come across in promotion etc. Hopefully they'll shed some light on things for other writers and creatives in similar situations.

And now some more steps...

Help! - Project Poll

I need your help. Seriously. I'm blocked. Not sure if it's  sleep deprivation, stress, sleep deprivation, illness, or sleep deprivation. Whatever the deal is, I'm at an impasse with writing. SO...I need your vote and here are the fiction project options:

1. FAMILY, FRIEND, or FOE - the last book in the Khloe series. I'm maybe half way done with this and I can't figure out where to go next. The ending is in my head, but how to get there is tough.
2. ANDREW - the third book in the Rollins Pack. Again, I'm about half way done (maybe more) and I know how it ends, but I'm struggling with the path between here and there.
3. CERIDWEN - a stand alone college/adult project with series potential. This is my mutant/alien/disease/sci-fi book and is maybe a quarter done. I have no idea how it ends or where to go next (lots of intrigue and scandal potential).
4. VICE & VIRTUE - working title, a stand alone adult project. I'm probably between a third and half way finished. This is my angels, demons, and general mayhem theological exploration book. I have no idea how it ends, and I'm not sure what needs to happen next in the story.
5. ???? - there are several "other" options including a story about a family where the son strays from his parents to pursue his dream (think night circus style); a sister who decides to leave the family business with catastrophic consequences (think myth); there's also a psychological book idea involving God and the nature of reality. Christian thinks I should write a sequel to BELOW THE BELT (it's a very popular download on Smashwords and it's FREE this week so get it now!)

 The other option is something non-fiction. I have two real projects there, both in relative infancy (one in lines of the unexpected, and the other having to do with a taboo topic and the process of exposing it).


What do you think? VOTE! PLEASE! I need to figure something out. I must make progress! And, please tell me why you want me to work on a given project. Also, suggestions for something completely different are also options, along with reasoning behind them.


Thanks in advance!

A New Direction: Work Style Leads Writing

This past week has been exceptionally busy. I've switched gears again as far as writing is concerned and I've been promoting my fledgling business Mommy Writing. The second I'll leave up for discussion in other spaces. Instead I'll focus on the somewhat unexpected writing decision I made.

I've been struggling in the past 7 months over where I should direct my energies. At first I thought I would be able to focus on fiction relatively easily while being a new mom. Then I discovered I needed to be able to work uninterrupted on fiction. It's the kind of work habit that doesn't lend itself to life with a baby, let alone a newborn.

Then I turned my attentions to short stories. This works pretty well, but the problem is it's very difficult to do regular research for submissions and keep track of the whole process when your memory is compromised by hormones and sleep deprivation.

Finally I came back around to non-fiction. I had started several different non-fiction pieces last year that I just couldn't bring myself to finish for one reason or another. In fact, the only non-fiction piece I have EVER finished was the curriculum I wrote for my masters thesis project, and that remains unpublished due to some difficulties in formatting (and a lack of desire regarding promotion).

You may be wondering what drew me back to non-fiction considering the above. Well non-fiction doesn't require me to work in a huge chunk. I can easily put it down and pick it back up again, unlike a novel. The piece I'm working on is actually based on an essay/short story I wrote for submission and was never published. It ties together several things that came up in the self-inventory I did a week ago.

I'm writing about being a pastor's kid - actually a double pastor's kid. So far it's irreverant, frank, and at times quite revealing. It's not an examination of theology or an academic study of American religion. It's my perspective on growing up with a unique position in a political and religious family. Some people will probably get upset reading it. Others may cheer (or at least I hope so) and many will be surprised.

I'm surprised I fell into ths project, but there it is. This last half year has been full of surprises. I just hope we all enjoy the results.

SWC: Fleshing Things Out

It's getting down to the wire. I feel it acutely as I look at the calendar and start thinking about scheduling blog tours for the books - the books that still need more time and love. BELOW THE BELT still needs some development, JEREMIAH needs polishing, and my non-fiction books need some serious research and collecting of websites and blurbs (the Art book less than the Local one, and the Religion one least of all...still...formatting. Bleh.). LILITH has received no feedback yet, so I'm not sure what needs to be done with that one, and ANDREW isn't finished. Pure and simple.

My stomach is knotted and slowly sinking (or rising...depending on the moment).

That overwhelming sinking feeling is threatening to overpower me as I think about when the baby is due and how much I haven't been working on my books. I've been researching so much about marketing that I haven't been spending enough time on actually ensuring the books are together and ready. It's a balancing act that is foreign to me, and frankly stress-inducing (which I'm told is really bad for pregnancy, but I also know that if I don't do this now, I may not get another chance for some time).

In an effort to focus more on writing and finishing books, I refused to turn on my ancient media PC and high-tailed it to the kitchen table (where I currently reside). This has multiple benefits:

1. I can't get distracted by movies.
2. I won't get overheated on the second floor (it is seriously 5 degrees hotter up there!).
3. I can still put my feet up on the nearby chair (to avoid leg swelling - thanks pregnancy!).

Let's see how productive I am today and then I'll get back to you about how well this plan worked. So far, I've gotten a few different things on my list completed. We'll see how many more I can finish. Wish me luck!

SWC: Day 8: Back on the Saddle

Phew. I did it. It was a lot less painful than I expected. Thank God for lesson plans, because that is honestly what saved my writing goal today.

That said, I didn't get my reading goal done today AT ALL with LILITH AND AMMON. This is a MAJOR set back. Part of this was because I socialized a lot more than I expected today (as well as sleeping in a lot longer than I wanted to - but apparently it was necessary).

So, the rundown: Yesterday I ended with 12,045. I should have ended up at 13,555. If I had met my goal, my daily goal today would have taken me to 18,055. Ahem. I brought my total word count up to 18,158! BOOYAH!

I feel pretty good about this.

For the most part, I feel like this little book is done. It's not finished, but it's done (if that makes any sense). There are a few places that could be fleshed out a bit more, but I don't know how much content I'm going to add as far as prose is concerned. For the most part, the remaining pieces of this book will be resource centric. A lot of pictures are going to be added. Templates will be attached. Websites will be suggested as sources for various information that I found to be helpful.

With only a few more anecdotes in each chapter left to add (that might cover one more day of writing goals) I feel like it's ready to move on. The problem is, I'm not sure where I should move on to...

LILITH requires some serious reading time and my dear hubby is not too happy about putting up with me sitting at my computer every night (it keeps us from watching shows that we both like to watch). I've only finished about a third of the reading I have to do, which means I have probably 3 days of required reading at least.

That said...can I put off my daily writing goal for 3 days so I can finish my reading? Is that okay? I feel like it might have to be.

In other news, I realized something crazy today.

Remember last year how I mentioned I wanted to have 8 additional books done or published by July of 2013? Yeah. This writing challenge, if I can hack it, will take me to that point.

So far, so good. I intend to fulfill my goals.

Good job subconscious for pushing things the direction I wanted to go! That's the power of goals people! Even if it was a crazy whim in a moment of wishful thinking - this is proof dreams can become reality. Or at least, your brain will determine a way of turning it into reality, which to me, kind of feels like the same thing.

SWC: Day 6 - Fiction v. Non-fiction

Oh. My. God. What. Have. I. Done?!?!?!

Non-fiction and fiction are not two sides of the same coin. They are different animals that must be kept in separate cages as far from one another as possible or they will TEAR EACH OTHER APART.

Or maybe that's just my brain. Yes. Must be my brain.

I started with my ART book yesterday and ended at 4536. In order to reach my writing goal today I needed to get to 9,036. Thankfully, and after much pain, moaning, and gazing longingly around the room I finished my daily writing at 9,055. Phew! THANK GOD!

I discovered today, in no uncertain terms, that my process for writing fiction and non-fiction is drastically different. It is easy for me to write fiction. I can sit down where I left off, and just let my mind (and fingers) go for hours. I write fiction faster than I write anything (which is saying something because I tend to blog pretty quickly).

Non-fiction requires me to think, recall, and reframe. I have to come up with a kind of narrative to frame the knowledge I'm trying to impart. It's a hassle. It's stressful. It makes me want to bang my head against the wall, at least when I'm working on something in book length (for some reason articles and blog posts are easy to fire off - don't try to understand. I sure as hell don't). I can't seem to think of the narrative fast enough and so I have to jump around my chapters while I'm thinking of something relevant. The result is my time is not used as efficiently as if I was writing fiction.

I also have to do research. Don't get me wrong, I love researching. I research for my fiction pieces all the time! I just feel like my sources need to be a step above when writing non-fiction, which is added stress.

In short, these non-fiction pieces are going to be on the short side, or at least, that's what I expect. I could surprise myself and go back into each chapter and triple their lengths, but I doubt it. Although, who knows?

The benefit of working on this is it is so incredibly different than my fiction projects, I can't get confused. It's impossible. LILITH AND AMMON is just so different, utilizing completely different sectors of my brain, I feel like there are two different people working on these projects.

Maybe there are.

Before I get weirdly philosophically writer on you, let me leave you with this thought. While this is a difficult exercise, it is stretching me. I feel that happening. I feel my writer chops growing as I force myself through this head-banging stress inducing project. I know when I get to the end, I will feel amazing, the same way it feels when I finish a really tough work-out. Satisfaction through the roof and the most absolute gloating rights you ever saw.

Oh yeah. I'm totally going to gloat if I turn this into something fantastic (and I will). Just watch.

SUMMER WRITING CHALLENGE: Day 5

Well, I started a non-fiction book from scratch (ending today at 4,536 words). This is mostly because I allowed for the possibility of an additional non-fiction word count in my total challenge goal. However it is also because the topic is easy for me to write about - at least at the moment. You see, I'm writing about teaching art.

I'm not exactly sure on the title, and I'm not expecting this to be a huge moneymaker, but I don't really care. Writing has never been about that for me. This is not a how to, although there are elements of that. It's also not a story, although there is a sort of narrative happening. It is more like a collection of essays about my experience over the course of this past year (though it's not really that either).

It feels a bit like a layman's development as a teacher, in addition to an argument for art education, possibly with a close up on low income communities. I'm not completely sure on this last one, but we'll see. There may even be some non-profit moments in there for giggles. I may focus on principles of art as the chapter categories, and then develop them from there, allowing for lesson plans and anecdotes about my time. Just writing that makes me feel like that's the perfect plan. But again, we'll see.

In the mean time, I will try to finish reading LILITH AND AMMON. I thought the reading process would go more quickly than it is. I think it took me an hour last night to read two chapters. Considering I have around 70,000 words to get through before I can start writing, this could be a problem. I wonder how this will end up working when I get to other books I'm trying to complete. How long will this all take me? Will I have sufficiently easy projects to work on (like this one) while I'm reading through the first half of these?

I don't know. It's going to be a test. Of course, in a month's time I won't have my job any more. The school year will have ended and my contract will be up. I won't have to plan any more lessons or prep any more materials. This will give me a lot more flexibility with my day, but it also may make me crazy (and possibly paranoid about my finances).

All I know is, I'm still on target with my daily writing goals and I fully intend to continue this pursuit.

SUMMER WRITING CHALLENGE: Day 4: FIRST FINISH!

I did what I didn't think I would do. I finished the first book. BELOW THE BELT rounded out at 74,660. This number left me below my daily word count goal, however I did finish the first draft of the book, and surprisingly left it open to a possible sequel (or set of sequels if I so choose at another time).

I will have to go back and rewrite, proof, and edit. There are some plot points in the second half that I just wrote which will need to be tied more solidly to the beginning, and vice versa. Still, I feel pretty good. In only 4 days of my writing challenge, I finished the first draft of a book.

Now the question is, do I want to work on another of my fiction manuscripts next, or do I want to try my hand at finishing one of the non-fiction? The book I need to finish desperately is LILITH AND AMMON, part of the Khloe series. However, I will need to reread what I've written to make sure I'm not repeating myself etc (as well as getting the chapter perspective order correct - one of the more complicated parts of the novel). This process might work well during a non-fiction project. I think that's what I'll do. Whenever I need a break from the non-fiction project, I'll read LILITH.

I expect I'll be able to finish the first non-fiction project in a few days. If I'm meticulous about reading (and I do read fast, even when I'm proofing or editing) I should be able to pick up LILITH AND AMMON right after I finish the non-fiction project.

Phew. Sounds crazy. Feels awesome. I'm really excited. I hope you are too!