Internetily Challenged

For some reason I can't get my ticker to post anywhere. I created the ticker as a fun way to track my progress (by way of word counts) on my current work in progress. I did it at the The Ticker Factory and it should be as simple as cut and paste. But not for me.

I got it to post on my facebook profile. But not my facebook fan page. Not in the status. Not on this blog. And it's so cute. A pretty little dragonfly is speeding along a purple bar, tracking my progress. I wanted to share it with you.

Unfortunately, if you want to see it, you have to go look at my facebook profile. It should really be on my fan page. So sad, it won't show there.

The Power of the Internet

As some of you know I had some bad news last week. (See the notes section of my facebook page.) My editor regretfully passed on my second book because sales on my first book were so slow. I posted on facebook and basically spilled my guts on another author's blog - a bestseller who I happen to really like, and she was kind enough not to take down my off topic rant.

I was very sad and upset, and this author said kind things. It's one of the things I like about this author, even though she must be incredibly busy, she always has time for her followers/friends. And here comes the miracle: The people who follow her blog, stepped up and bought my book. And then they said nice things about it. I had the biggest sale month I've ever had, and we aren't even half way through. WOW.
I didn't even know this until I contacted my publisher. Now that I've gotten over the rejection I felt I needed to write and say I understood, and thank you for the opportunity, etc. My editor wrote back to tell me about the sales, and to give me another chance. If I can sell another 40 books by May 1st she'll take a look at the next Bree mystery.
I'm back in the game. At least temporarily. I get another chance to figure out how to sell books!
 
That's the power of the Internet. If I hadn't spilled my guts, I wouldn't have gotten a second chance. And the nice thing is, I didn't have to do any self promotion. I simply was looking for support from people I don't know, but consider my friends anyway. I got it in spades.

It's the Flu,Damn it!

It's four in the afternoon, I have the flu, and I'm on the porch in my jammas in the driving wind and rain so I can take a picture of the Huge and Horrible Willow tree that I love, and that is likely to take out my house. I don't see anything wrong with this picture. I'm tired of being in bed with the flu. I've been there for days. I'm not getting any better lying in bed, NOT eating anything, and although I love teasing my friends on facebook, I really should be working. And although it's not warm out, its not freezing either. So what the heck, might as well let you see the tree from the center of Hades.

The beauty of this is while those of you who know me well will know the truth, those of you who don't know me all that well can say, "It was the flu, you know. She was a little out of her head with the flu."

If you look closely you will see a cable holding this monster's two trunks together. If the plan doesn't fail, that cable will keep the taller of it's dual personalities from landing on my house. I've got my fingers crossed. It really is a beautiful tree in the summer time.

So here you go, a picture of impending doom, in the middle of a Janurary thaw and a storm that is threatening to blow us all away.

It's Party Time! The first draft is done

Soooo, the first, and very rough, draft of California Schemin' is done. I've danced, I've hollered, I've bragged. I'm feeling pretty good about my second novel being finished less than a year after my first was contracted. Yeah me!

I figure I can now have a two week vacation from writing. I've earned it, and God knows my house looks as though seven Tasmanian devils live there. There is PLENTY to do. If I remember correctly I finished late Sunday night or early Monday morning. Really early Monday morning. Today is Wednesday. And what am I thinking about? The half finished third novel that's waiting for me. AM I NUTS?

It is not time to start writing again. My Brain needs a rest. Right?

Apparently not. Tank and Maggie are calling to me. Wild plot twists have been popping into my head. So maybe what I need a rest from is CA Schemin' not writing. Maybe I can let myself write a little bit of T&M while waiting to edit CS. I'm actually feeling a little excited about getting back to The double murder at a rest stop!

The Evil of Editor Envy

One day I'm going to find out that people have actually been reading my blog, and boy am I going to be embarrassed! As long as I pretty much think that I'm talking to myself I can say anything I want. After all, cyberspace isn't judgmental. Heck cyberspace doesn't have time to be judgmental. It's too busy directing traffic.

I've been thinking lately about the evils of wanting to be someone else. Or even wanting to be like someone else. It's no secret that I want to be like certain other writers who work with a certain editor who I'm completely in awe of. That editor is a star maker, and damn if I don't want to be a star.

But I have an editor. In fact, considering the number of writers who are never published, I'm dang lucky to have an editor. She took a chance on me when no one else would, including the star maker. So here I sit, wishing I were someone other than who I am. At the very least someone who has the time to both write and market effectively. And somewhere else someone else is wishing they were me. Wishing that at the very least someone would take a chance on them.

The truth is that we are all in the cycle somewhere. And although logic tells me we can't all be stars, I can't help but think that my time will come. My star will rise. Wishful thinking? Maybe. But it's the belief that it's possible to obtain our goals that keeps me trying. Keeps me juggling the writing with the marketing with the kids with the husband with the dogs. Because I want it all, and no one has been able to convince me that I can't have it.

Study Hall 101

Some of you know that I took on the job as study hall monitor for the high school this year. Either I need my head examined or it's more fun than a barrel of monkeys. You decide.

Today was especially interesting. The Chemistry teacher needed someone to cover his class for a few hours today, so study hall got moved to the chem lab and I got double the normal amount of students. If you think study hall is a hoot with just study hall students, try adding the entire population of school brainiacs. We have one side of the room watching inane and probably forbidden YouTube videos while the other side of the room is measuring, weighing, and heating. You heard me right: heating. As in Bunsen burners and hot plates. Thank God it was only hot plates today. Because Bunsen burners and study hall students do not mix. Not one bit.

Wants some highlights? A "pretend" brawl between two seniors, a boy and girl turned into a knee in the groin; rolling around on the floor, hand sanitizer in the hair incident in which the boy got the worst of it. I'm telling you I would not mess with that girl. She's a tough one.
Then there was the constant begging for me to take the group outside to play ultimate Frisbee in the snow. After me repeat idly telling them 'no!' a few of them thought they'd play ultimate Frisbee in the chem lab. Oh joy. "Please don't send us to the planning room Mrs. George, we'll stop now."

Needless to say, I didn't get any writing done. I have never been so happy to get back to the study hall as I was fifth period today. Even seventh period was tame compared to the Chemstudy Lall today.

KOD BIAW (or Book in a Week with the Kiss of Death Chapter of the RWA)

Here's the deal. I signed up to write 1500 words a day this week. Not exactly a book in a week, but progress. It helps to have other writers paying attention to the progress I'm making. It keeps me honest, and honestly, it keeps me writing when I otherwise would be distracting myself.

To tell the truth, I don't find it easy to write every day. If I did, I'd be producing a lot more than I do. I'd have a stockpile of manuscripts. On the days like today every word on my wip (work in progress) is extracted painfully from my brain. Nothings flowing. I don't know what the heck is supposed to happen next. It's excruciating.

Conversely, (like the big words?) Conversely, I can write fifteen hundred words of a blog in a heart beat. Easy peasy. It’s because blogging is talking on paper. And it can be pretty hard to shut me up. I like the sound of my own voice. Telling you about my thoughts, feelings, observations can be a lot easier than telling a story, especially when I don’t have any idea where the story is going. I do know how it ends, but how in the world is Bree going to get there from here?

I don’t know where I'm going, but I’m committed to putting words on the page. Dreadful words perhaps. But words. And, as Joni B. Cole once told me, my readers won't be able to tell the words than sprang flowing from my mind from the words dug from mug with a toothpick. That piece of wisdom surprised me, but apparently it's true.

I’ll get back to the mud flats now.