Next. I feel as though, since I finished The Rise of the Black Market, I need to find the next project. In a way, I do. I had been looking for a writing position before coronavirus stopped everything. But as I discovered with the ups and downs my life has gone through, writing has been my way of working through it.
So I feel stuck at the present moment, as I'm sure most of you do as well. But for me, my block has to do with managing my way out of a badly managed situation. My career. It's full of holes, it's been inconsistent, and now I have to scramble to figure out where to go next.
I've always wanted to be a writer and get paid for what I've written. That hasn't changed. Not selling books has been the hardest thing for me professionally, especially now, knowing I do have some fans and the product is pretty good. I wrote what I liked. At the time I wrote it, I didn't know that I should have researched the market a bit more.
So where do you go when you're stuck? How do you move forward? Well like others, I've been purging. Cleaning out closets and drawers and finishing projects that have been waiting for me for years.
I have an opportunity to do things different this time. While I wrote what I wanted, I realized, the market expects certain things, and maybe this time, I should write a little closer to it.
But there's still that desire to differentiate myself from what's already out there. So having said that, I'm returning to my first love; the mystery. I'm obsessed with Sue Grafton and the ABC mysteries, I'm reading J.D. Robb (Nora Roberts) and the In Death series.
What I've noticed, I'm still drawn to strong, female characters, but as I read through the newest series for me, I want to do it a little different. A little less, in your face, a little more vulnerable. A little more a reflection of myself.
In the coming months, I'm putting together something I hope is more in line of what the market likes to read, because realistically, it's really what I like to read as well. I still hope to have a likeable character, who grows and changes and stumbles and succeeds.
I've been lucky and safe and my children are fine and pushing forward with school in the midst of all this madness. And me, I'm taking a hard look at my writing career so that I can move forward, hopefully successfully, hopefully happily.
Wishing you all a happy, healthy spring and wish you all the happiness.
For something to escape from reality, catch up on The Wizard Hall Chronicles, today.Continue reading
I created an experience after my day started rather unlike how I planned it. When I just couldn't look at the computer screen any longer, regardless of still needing an ending to the second book of my new series.
I had run up to my daughter in Kenosha, WI., earlier that day because she was busy and needed some school supplies. I drove an hour and a half, dropped them off and promptly returned home. I was a bit grouchy for having made the trip and getting stuck in traffic and though it was a great day for a car ride, I had things to do.
But when I get home, I found myself unable to stay indoors with the temperature reaching 64 degrees in February.
I decided to go for a walk.
My neighborhood is quiet, the walk undulates through the subdivision in a languid motion. Up and down, past the pond, through quiet, private streets. While it's an easy walk in the sunshine, I chose instead, to drive to the marsh near my house.
I've never really been there this time of the year, usually it's warm, or hot when I take a stroll. I hadn't really thought about it much, until I got there.
I wasn't dressed for the mud, the snow and the high levels of water. While i had on my gym shoes (a Chicago thing,) I found myself walking through overly saturated sandy paths, thick, icy snow, and sloshy grass.
It was beautiful. While a lot of people had the same thought as me, the trails themselves seemed empty, quiet, serene. And I did something I never do; I left out the ear buds. I walked in silence.
Well not really silence. I listened to the birds, to the families that were on the trail, to my shoes as they crunched against the hard snow, as they stuck in the muddy, sandy trail, to the cars that drove along the roads that border the marsh.
My summer walks can be exhausting with the heat, I look forward to the end of the trail. This time, I never worried about the end, rather, I simply took the time to enjoy the stillness around me. I felt the change in temperature from where the sunlight melted the snow, to the shadows that were left behind trees that blocked out the sun.
I was never too cold or too hot as I walked my usual path, farther from the parking lot as I saw fewer and fewer people.
I find myself, for the first time in my life, really living in the small moments. Learning to be alone with myself, making time for things that make me happy.
I said this was my year of experience and I've yet to make plans for a big experience. But what I done, it create experience when there was none and learned to revel in the simple; as I enjoy the day, or an hour, or a single minute, living in the present, not in the past or in the future; but just here.
I heard once, that the days are long and the years are short. And as I finish my 51st year, I realize that those long days, broken up in little moments are refreshing, and lovely and are very necessary.Continue reading
Writing has always been my dream and from an early age, I've always thought of myself as one. Even at age 9, I was told, I was pretty good at it. When I started writing my first book, I realized it might not be so.
I always believed in the characters and the story, it took me years before I felt comfortable and not guilty for selling my books. Positive reviews have built me up, while negative reviews made me lose my confidence.
Comic cons, and talking with future fans always built me up and invigorated me as I kept crafting the series. I always believed in each story, I always believed that each one got better and better. Not just the writing but the plots and the characters. They grew, became complex. I believed I had something.
And then book four – Prophecy, happened. I knew I had something great. It was a rewrite of the book She-Wulf. I worked really hard to rewrite, restructure, and tie the story into the series. I had multiple content edits to ensure the story flowed, that there were no plot holes, that it bridged books 1, 2, and 3 into book 5, the series conclusion. I knew it in my bones. I had it right.
I wasn't expecting what happened. While I sent out a request for ARC readers, I had usually received 50 to 100 responses. For Prophecy I received 10. I was disappointed. I hoped in all the other requests I would have had readers who wanted to continue the story.
I accepted there were only ten, and hoped for the best.
Prophecy currently has nine, 5 star reviews. Some of them made me cry. I was pleased to know that the story worked, that book was entertaining, that someone was pissed at the ending and sad and confused.
All of what I had I put into the story. I felt stressed as I wrote the journey, I cried at the end. The results were what I hoped for.
I worry the final book, the conclusion to Annie's journey, won't live up to the book four. It terrifies me, and now I'm suffering from a bit of writer's block as I work on my next series.
Writing is always an up and down as you try to write complex, exciting, enjoyable stories, as you try to sell them so you can continue to live your dream.
The process offers me the most confidence I have ever felt in my life, I was meant to spend my days writing. And the process deflates me faster than anything else in my life.
I love writing. No matter how stressful the rest of my life can get, it is and will be the most satisfaction I have ever had and I don't think I can give it up. For now, I'll enjoy the results of Prophecy and feel proud that I did it!
Prophecy – today on Amazon.Continue reading
I decided this year is my year of gaining experiences and not a year of acquiring more things. It's not so much that I'm going to jump out of an airplane any time soon, it mostly has to do with saying yes and putting myself out there by trying new things. It's about putting away the anxiety and just living.
It's about traveling because that is one of the few things I've always wanted to do. It's about finding a job that gives me confidence and maybe a little satisfaction. It's about not letting the weight of all of the issues wear me down.
While my biggest dream and goal is to be a writer who can support myself with royalties and such, it's not happening any time soon. It's about moving forward regardless of the set backs.
I went to Aruba two weeks ago. I never really had a dream to go there, but there it was, an experience thrown in my lap. I had roughly two days. It was quick, it was tiring, a little fun even. I think we saw everything you could see and it was nice to be in the 84 degree weather instead of at home in the 30 degrees.
I like to plan, this wasn't a plan. This was pick yourself up and go. It was pushing aside the anxiety of travel and just enjoying being away from home. Forgetting that while flying standby, things might not go as you hoped. It's traveling international and having to stand in the security line and then U.S. Customs while still in Aruba and then going through security again and not losing your composure, stomping your feet or getting frustrated by the process.
Learning to accept is far less stressful. Saying yes is more enjoyable, even when there are doubts.
Yoga. I've been practicing yoga on and off for twenty years. At one point of was consistent, twice a week, and growing stronger. I hurt my back, I had two shoulder surgeries. I was off for two years.
When you come back to an activity like yoga, or lifting weights or running, there is a period of time when your body will ache, you will be tired, you will want to quit.
I didn't quit.
Instead, I dealt with the inabilty to twist a certain way and the muscle aches afterwards. I fought through it and within weeks, I found myself growing stronger and finding my poise and grace when I practice.
Recently I went to a yoga event. The class was hard, but I powered through, i learned a little something from this teacher I never met and I felt good challenging myself to something new.
I take in the lessons of yoga. I learned to take in the teachings. I have a new respect for myself and what my body can do. I'm proud of the strength I've gained, I'm proud I didn't give up.
I'm learning, it only took me 51 years to do so. You have control over how you react to what happens around you. You can choose to not let it bother you. You can choose to have fun, live in the moment, even when the rest of your life feels as though its crashing in around you.
I'm putting myself first. I'm taking care of myself, nourishing myself with good food, and good exercise. I'm taking it one step at a time. That's all I'm asking. Just one step at a time.Continue reading
When I wrote Prophecy, I knew it would be the re-write of She Wulf, a book I wrote after falling asleep during a documentary about the epic poem, Beowulf.
I loved the idea of going to the past to save the future. The problem this time around was, Prophecy had to do more than She Wulf did. She Wulf could be a stand alone story, an adventure to the past. Unfortunately, as I rewrote the series, book four now needed to be that epic time travel story as well as a bridge between books 1,2, and 3 to book 5.
I always spoke of Annie's dad; his death seemed to weave itself throughout the series in a way I hadn't expected when I first wrote the series. As I moved through book one, two, three, and finally four, I realized there were some questions that finally needed to be answered.
Where is Annie's mom. And that was the most important theme I needed to convey in book four. How do you do that when are writing a stand alone time travel adventure? You write two stories simultaneous and interweave them because in reality, we have more than one thing going on at a time. We don't live our lives in a vacuum.
So there. I give you the beginning of the end of the Wizard Hall Chronicles. I'm so excited for this book. It was the most challenging and aside from the first book being the one I'm the most proud of because it was my first, I'm really the most proud of Prophecy, because it is the story that nearly ended my dream and it is the one that brought it back to life.
“How much do you know about my dad’s murder?” Annie whispered. Instinctively, he placed a hand on the wall and sent a muffle spell across his small cubicle, enveloping them in privacy.
“I know Rathbone did it. It’s related to the Fraternitatem and the Chintamani stones. Beyond that, I’m clueless,” Bucky said.
Annie shook her head. “This needs to stay between you and me. If I’m not around, find Cham. He’s the only person who knows this.” Bucky understood her stern, serious expression and nodded in agreement.
She handed Bucky a picture of Dr. Arden Blakely with Emily Pearce. He examined the picture and glanced back at Annie. “Isn’t this that doctor? The assassin? She looks younger, but . . .”
“It’s Dr. Arden Blakely,” she said quietly.
“That’s not why you want me to see this,” Bucky said.
Bucky grimaced and reviewed the picture again. This time, he couldn’t ignore the striking similarities between the other woman and Annie. He stared back at Annie. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say the other one is related to you,” he said guardedly. Bucky observed Annie carefully.
Annie cleared her throat to find her voice. “It’s my mom, Emily Pearce.”
When I wrote my first book, I wrote what I liked. I was greatly influence by Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Charmed; urban fantasy, female lead, real women saving the world on a weekly basis. At that point in time the thought was, write what you like.
What I discovered over the course of the years, not everyone wants to read what I like, and the new thought is, write to market.
I write what I like, it gives me pleasure. I gain confidence when a story works out well, whether I planned it or not.
This is what I had wanted since I was seven years old, to sit at home and write stories, and earn my living entertaining the masses with my words.
Sometimes it doesn't work out that way.
So I'm spending my time trying to do two things, write what I like and write it to market. I've been researching what the market really is. What do readers enjoy and clamor to read?
The problem is, I'm not enjoying the books I'm reading. I feel like they're, not as original as they could be. Well yeah, they're written for market.
Congrats to the writers who can make it work. As I sit at this crossroad, I have to make a decision. Do I write to please the masses so that I can stay at home and live my life long dream, or do I write for me and get a job elsewhere to make money?
A few weeks ago, I announced that my pity party is over. I came to believe that I was addicted to the pity party, that it was consuming me and I needed to be done. Like any addiction, it doesn't go away just because you say so.
I'm in the middle of a bump in the row. I'm feeling pity for myself again. But I can't stop writing. It's who I am at the core.
So I'm diligently preparing to release book four and get book five ready to publish. I hope that the boxed set of the books will sell better than they do now. It will always be a struggle for me; to write or not to write. To live with passion or not to live with the passion, the thing that makes me uniquely me.
I'm a writer. It's what I do. I'm getting better at it. I don't want to quit. I use these bumps in the road to re-examine where I'm at and where I need to be. I've decided I need a new project. I'm working on my memoirs. My experiences raising three children with very difficult situations. I'm writing short stories, I plan to enter writing contests and submit my work to magazines. I want to freelance.
What I don't want to do is quit the thing that gives me joy, confidence, and passion. Ironically, it's also the thing that makes me angry, jealous and bitter, but I'm trying really hard to focus on the good.
So I'm in a good place. I'm continuing with yoga, I'm cutting back on crackers, cookies and sugar. I'm working out harder than I've been able to in years. It's all about controlling the positive and letting the negative go. It's not easy by any stretch, but I finally switched that thing in my brain that gets me out of the hole and back into the light.
I'm a writer at the core. It's what I know.Continue reading
Challenges. We all have them. It’s not so much the challenge itself, it’s how we react to the challenge and overcome it that’s the key.
I’ve struggled to find a job after college; I worked in a bookstore, I worked at a contract employee in my chosen field to get experience, I filed and mailed stuff for money. Even when I found the job, it still wasn’t what I wanted to do. I made the jobs work for me. I learned, I grew, I started writing policies and procedures. At least I was writing.
I created a career as a writer, I also worked on databases, I worked in compliance, I continued to learn. I finally wrote my first book.
Challenges continued as life moved along. There were infertility struggles; my children have extra ordinarily difficult situations in their lives. One is transgender, the other suffers from OCD and severe anxiety. The only answer for these issues is to take one step and then another. I grow and change, I learn to accept. I write more books.
Writing is my respite from the challenges life continues to throw my way. It’s been my dream since I was seven to be a writer, create worlds and entertain others with these stories. While I continue to write, my greatest challenge is to market the books, find readers who enjoy them and hopefully be able to support myself as a writer.
I continue to grow and change. I’m on draft four of book five and I’m winding down my first series. I used my main character, Annie Pearce to mirror the challenges in my life. She struggles, she fails, she takes one step and then another, toward a successful conclusion. I test her, she wins.
If only it were that easy in the real world.
While I still struggle, I keep taking the next steady step. For me there is no stopping, because once I stop writing, or stop parenting, the battle is surely lost. As long as there’s one foot in there, still hanging on then there’s always a chance to succeed.
No one is immune to the downs in life. We all ride the roller coaster. Sometimes, it slows and stops and we get off and move on. Sometimes as we pull in to the end of the ride, the coaster slips and sends you through the twists and turns. When that happens, we simply hold on tightly to absorb the twists and turns.Continue reading
I had every intention of using my marketing plan this year. I had the plan down to weeks. I had a theme for each month, I had topics determined and I knew what I'd be writing in each blog for the year. Really, I did.
But stuff happens and it's the last day of March and I didn't follow any of it. Nothing. No themes, no blogs, and my advertising went out the window.
And I just filled out my expenses for last year and I'm having a minor heart attack.
You see, I've never really been good at making a plan and executing it the way I planned. It's actually how I write books. I've mentioned it here several times; I'm a pantser not a plotter, I write by the seat of my pants rather than plot out my books. I tried, really I did, but planning has a way of binding me, I lose creativity, my freedom. And in that it takes me longer to write a book. There are down sides you see.
My marketing seems to work the same way. Things happen, I read something on line and decide I should write about it, or advertise that way, or rewrite my descriptions, change my keywords. You get the idea.
I do worry as I pulled together all of my expenses for 2018 that I really need to keep with a plan or I need to quit this writing thing all together and do something else. Spending way more than I should have makes you rethink a lot of stuff.
And that's the point of the marketing plan.
But it still didn't work.
What I really learned is this, I personally love my books, the characters I've lived with for a decade. But that doesn't mean the stories are right for the market. I missed an essential piece of this, what would people like to read.
I've also learned to cut back on the things that do me no good. The stuff that makes other people rich on my writing career.
No more buying other people's books. There's plenty of free advice out there if you know where to look.
I'm just going to write what I love, and slowly, organically pass it around. I'm going back to comic cons where I know there are fans. I'm starting to connect with people on line, who like the same things I do. Just simple statements, simply retweeting, liking , sharing. Nothing fancy.
It's the problem of the writer's journey. How do we find the audience who will like what we write. I can't quit, it's something that's been a part of me for so long. All I can do, is make a plan and this time stick to it.
I was watching a documentary this weekend on the Eighties – you know, big hair, no cell phones. It was my childhood in review as they discussed the women on television story. I watched Murphy Brown, Designing Women, Cagney and Lacey, and while I was in high school, I wasn't quite self-aware and didn't understand how groundbreaking it was and what that could mean for me and my confidence.
Sometimes looking back on my early days, I feel disassociated with my life as though I wasn't actively participating in it. While I had a dream for myself and my future, I never connected an action to that dream. I didn't really think about the process of writing and what that would mean.
So back to my shows about strong, hard-working women who fought for the right to be treated equally in whatever job they took on. I could have used those ideas as a guide on how to manage my own career but a lack of confidence, had me taking one path rather than working on the path I really wanted. I spent my time working on Plan B, the plan to become a writer for some large company as I pursued my real passion. The problem is, I never really worked on my real passion, to become an author, spending my day writing books or magazine articles. There was too much fear in that unknown.
I find myself now, searching for the imaginary role models in Lorelei Gilmore, who finally followed her passion and opened her own inn rather than working in someone else's. I love old episodes of Charmed and Buffy the Vampire Slayer where the women are strong and real as they work through their daily problems AND save the world.
When there's nothing on television or movies to use as a kick in the ass, I think of women like Amelia Earhart, or Kathryn Johnson whose mathematical calculations sent men to the moon, who followed their passions in their chosen field, fighting an uphill battle based on their sex and/or race.
It's not lost on me that what held me back from achieving my dreams wasn't necessarily my lack of opportunity it was a lack of confidence in myself. It's not an easy to fix to all of a sudden find the confidence to achieve your dreams. What I've learned in my 50 years is this, you don't achieve your goals by hoping and thinking it will happen. There is no guarantee that you'll accomplish your goals but you most certainly will not if you don't try.
The answer for me was to take my jealously and work harder, try different things as I try to finish my next book and sell the three others on Amazon.com.
Even if I have to fake the confidence for the time being, I must take the first step and the next step and continue, one at a time if I must. It keeps me moving forward rather than keeping me stagnant, in one place. And yes, I still watch the old shows, and the new gathering inspiration. It's like a recharge and reminds me that we all have similar struggles and if we can share the stories, we can all benefit.
It's something I remember especially on #InternationalWomensDay as I try to be my own hero, an active participant in my own life. It's sometimes a struggle, but totally worth the effort.
I'm a woman, I write what I know. The struggle between holding down a job and caring for a family. The struggle between living my life and chasing after a lifelong dream.
Honestly I believe we can't have it all, at least not all in a neat little package where everything works. Usually something has to give: friendships, hobbies, travel.
I struggle with the dream. The writing of the book, marketing it, trying to do it without a full-time job. And I'm finding myself at the end of this series, putting everything that I have in me, into the book.
When I read Harry Potter, I remember J.K. Rowling explaining what the dementors meant to her. She said they were a representation of her depression. I never forgot that.
The nearer I got to the end of my fifth book in The Wizard Hall Chronicles, the more upset I was finding myself. I've been living with the characters in my head for 10 years, crafting their lives, creating their journey on the pages of the books. I decided it would be the end of the series and it left me sad. But it also became more than an end of one journey. It was as if Annie was taking on my emotions, my struggles, in a way she never had before.
Annie's struggling with changes in her life, a trip to the past and newly acquired information that smacks her hard with the truth about her life. Essentially, she's experiencing my struggles, my emotional upheaval as I witness my own changes. My kids are nearly grown, I'm debating whether or not I should stop writing and just live my life.
It's my own fears, my own lack of confidence that I'm writing into the pages of Annie's story. While I'm not writing these things in the demons she meets, she essentially is me, and she is essentially experiencing what I'm experiencing.
February has in effect been a difficult month of selling books, of writing the last book of the series, of deciding whether or not this is all worth it. But in reality, I can't give this up. It is so much of what defines me, who I am and what I do. While I get frustrated reading best sellers that are poorly written, or discover what works for some isn't working for me, I'm still finding myself obsessively working to finish Annie's story, to the completion of her journey. It is what I have been working toward my whole life, writing, a book, a story, with meaning, something relatable to others.
I had a fan send me a word of encouragement, telling me not to give up because the story of Annie resonates with people. Maybe not a lot of people now, but someday maybe. She's relatable because she's me, and I'm writing what I know. And what I know is the only way to achieve your dreams or your goals is to keep moving forward, even if forward is only one step at a time, one day at a time.
Here's to the dreamers who can't give up.
I don't throw the word Confidence around lightly. It is my biggest foe, my biggest hope. I lack it most of the time, but when I am a confident writer, employee, mother, I'm unstoppable.
Confidence is the writer's biggest asset, it gives you the strength to endure low sales, or none at all, and helps you to ignore the bad reviews that inevitably will come.
I've been doing the things I should have been doing 10 years ago, but have only begun doing. Concentrating on ads, blogs, creating relationships, researching the genre, author branding, updating the website.
Why did I wait? Lack of knowledge, lack of confidence, mostly the reasons I didn't start writing until I was 40.
It's been a tough few weeks. I always heard, write the books you want to read. So I did. But I didn't research the genre I write in and realized, my books are niche, and I'm not finding much similarities in other books out there.
I'm in a position now that I'm very discouraged, after misjudging my genre. It's time to fall back, review the marketing plans, shake things up.
But it's more than that. It's the idea that it might be the time to quit, time to let mediocrity envelop me, get a 9-5 job and move on.
But I can't.
It's all I knew, all I ever wanted to be. I gain so much confidence when I write, when I create a complex, full story with great characters in all of their glory and their low points. When the books come together as a complete story, it's a high like nothing I've ever experienced. It's where my confidence comes from.
I was born to create and be this. As I write my final book of The Wizard Hall Chronicles, I find myself to be sad that it will be over, glad that I can start completely fresh with something else. But what I really see, is this; Annie is me and I am her and what I'm experiencing now is what she is experiencing.
Changes are coming for both her and I and we are struggling to work through challenges. It takes me longer to work through plot points because this time, I'm not just working things out for Annie, I'm doing it for me to.
It's never as bad as we think or it's much worse than we know. I'm pushing myself more, more words per day, more ads, more time on social media. More, more, more, all in the hopes that I can move this crazy train forward and achieve something more than mediocrity.
I supposed that's the lesson here. Sometimes the confidence wanes and sometimes we have to push ourselves beyond that low point and move forward. We only get to where we are going if we keep moving forward.
As long as I remember that, there will never be room to quit.
I've been a fan of the rock group Queen since I was in middle school. Queen was my first rock concert in August, 1982. I finally saw Bohemian Rhapsody today actually. The move struck a chord with me.
Freddie Mercury, he was at times an ass, he was at times a great love, he was most of the time so sure of himself and his talent and his vision.
I've shared many times my desire to be an author since I was 7. I very rarely strayed from that dream. I always chose jobs that would inevitably lead me to a writing position.
I watched Bohemian Rhapsody, I clearly saw the idea that you have to believe in yourself, you have to take chances. I quit my job when I first read the quote: “She believed she could so she did,” by R.S Gray. I had never heard the quote before, I found it on a charm and bought it. It stuck with me. So much so I decided it was time to quit, time to manage my ads, get my books ready to be published. I needed to take a chance on myself and believe in me.
I started really selling books last summer, though I've been trying for years. It was about learning to target, to write engaging copy, to put myself out there. For three months I sold something everyday. It was time. But it's been a struggle. Sales drop off, ads change, testimonial makes me nutty. But my friend Bri asked me what I would be doing if I won the lottery tomorrow.
I would be a writer.
And back to Bohemian Rhapsody. Freddie Mercury found himself, in how he dressed, how he spoke, how he engaged with people, he believed he was born to perform. He went on his own personal journey and in the end, he found his success, happiness and love.
I learned a valuable lesson. I have me, and if I don't believe that I wrote a good book, or that I should put myself out there, than why do it. As always, it's about being myself, taking risks, and believing that I can do what I set out to do.
It may not work but then again, I may just find myself with everything I ever hoped to have. And if I won the lottery tomorrow, this is what I'd still do.Continue reading
After sending book four of The Wizard Hall Chronicles, Prophecy, to my editor for a content edit, I decided it was time to plan for book five called The Rise of the Black Market. I wasn't quite ready to start the book, I was prepping the document adding a title page, the list of the books in the series, the copyright page, an acknowledgement page, Chapter 1. As I saved the beginnings of the book, it occurred to me in a very concrete sort of way, that this would be the last book I write in The Wizard Hall Chronicles.
The Wizard Hall Chronicles was the start of my author career. I had lived with the characters in my head for almost two years, learning about them, discovering their likes and dislikes, personality traits I wanted to explore, stories I wanted to tell, until one day I had enough confidence to sit down and finally write the story.
It started with the first draft of The Day of First Sun which in the end became over 50 drafts. Because I was new at the craft of writing novels, I ended up publishing the story three times. It was a necessary evil that propelled the story in a way I hadn't expected.
When I originally started The Wizard Hall Chronicles, I first had no series name and I had intended to write the series with stand alone books. The characters would waft in and out as they took on new paranormal cases. But that's now how the series progressed.
You see, before rewriting The Day of First Sun and publishing it for the third time, I was stuck. I published book two She Wulf, and it didn't go well. I found it difficult to move the story forward. I tried two different stories. neither worked.
I realized the problem was book one and in a flash, I was rewriting, in a major rewrite sort of way, until I had something that was so much better than any other incarnation.
When that happened, the rest of the series flew from my fingers in lightning speed. And another interesting thing happened. I found myself with a theme I never intended; the death of Annie Pearce's father. He was never supposed to be anything but Annie's background. Instead, his death was her past, her present and her future.
Sometimes you can't fight the direction the series will traverse. Sometimes you have to go with it. I went with it and it led me to the series finale, The Rise of the Black Market and I wasn't expecting how it would make me feel.
The series filled out. Characters went in and out of the stories as their roles changed or grew. I filled in more background of the characters so much so that Wizard War became the continuation of The Day of First Sun while Prophecy linked the first three books and acted as a bridge to the series finale.
But as I started Chapter 1, The Rise of the Black Market, it hit me hard. This book is the last of the series. It made me sad. It made my prematurely miss the characters that I had been living with for the last 12 years. unexpectedly, it made me long for the finale so I could start a new project, something different.
I'm a mix of emotions as I work through Annie Pearce and Cham Chamsky's final case. The case that brings all the stories together, the battle that will change their lives forever. I look forward to the work on this book, I look forward to putting the series to rest, to moving on and yet I know I will miss Annie, my alter ego. As she grew, I grew.
Here's to the next stage in my writing career!Continue reading
Welcome to new beginnings. I've already admitted I don't make resolutions. I realized a long time ago, they never really work and waiting for one special day to state what my intentions are for the coming year is a waste of emotional energy.
I'm fairly self-aware, so for me, I know what I need to do, and I don't limit myself to one day a year to bring about changes. Though I will admit, it's always easier to make a change at the start of the week or the start of a day.
I try to eat right, exercise regularly, write everyday. I won't make a resolution per se, what I have done is set a goal for myself and for this year, it's selling more books than I sold this year. I really hope to become a full-time author and not have to rely on an 8-5 job.
I'm in a tough industry, this writing gig. It's a lot of ups and downs. Most of the time I want to throw my computer out the window, quit writing, stop spending money on ads, marketing, editing, book covers and software packages. And then I think, what else would I do with myself if I didn't write?
Once in a while, someone responds to an ad I'm running, stating that they loved the series and can't wait for the next book. I cry a little because I never realized I might have fans.
To to achieve my goals, I promise in the coming year I will not give up on the dream I've had since I was seven-years old. I want to be a writer and damn it, I shall keep trying, with new plans and additional help.
Rather than make resolutions, it's really about setting goals and completing the step needed to accomplish those goals.
I took a hard look at my book sales for the year and for the life of my books. I haven't made nearly enough to do this full-time, but since I started running ads in July, I've sold more in six months than I had in the last eight years. It's the first positive step on the way to a dream.
Now that the plan is in place, I'm concentrating on the positive strides I've made this year rather than all of the past failures. I'll ride this wave throughout this year and every month try to increase and make changes to the previous work.
You can look at the glass as half full or half empty, it's your choice.
So I look back at 2018 as a year of trial and error and the learning of many things and I look forward to 2019 with clear eyes and a real plan.
Welcome to 2019, may it bring you peace and happiness. I promise not to give up on my dreams if you promise not to give up on yours.
It's the time of year for resolutions when we make these pronouncements:
I don't make New Year's resolutions anymore.
Yes, I like to have a date when I will begin a new book, or have a book ready for publishing, but when it comes to these shouldas, couldas, wouldas, about my person, I feel as though I need to make a decision and begin, whether it's the beginning, middle or end of the year.
It's because I know what I need to do. I just have to get off my butt and do it, whatever it is, whenever it is.
See, I know I need to lose a few pounds. I need to eat smaller portions and eat less sugar. I didn't wait for the end of the year to make my New Year's resolution to begin. I just said, “This is what I need to be healthy.”
And I know it's not a diet. This is the way of life. I just have to do it.
For my career I knew I needed to manage the advertising and marketing and writing. I quit my job because at the moment I was able to. Because this is what I had to do if I want to be an author.
We like the idea of new beginnings. The ability to shed the bad stuff from the previous year. I have a lot of baggage I could do that with. What I need to do instead, is remember to live in the moment. Not my resolution, but my real life, all the time.
It's not a resolution, it's simply me remembering that today is a new day and I need to live today with all that entails. No more resolutions, no more attempts. Just one day at a time. If I slip today, I pick up and do it again the next without judging myself or being hard on myself when one day goes badly. I tomorrow, not January 1. There's always tomorrow.
If you must make a resolution, do this: Each and everyday I will:
We mess up. We take corrective actions we move on. I will remember to live in the moment, not starting on January 1, but starting today.
Have yourself a very happy holiday season and be your best self, even if that means you lay around in your jammies watching Doctor Who episodes once and while.