Ink-Stained Scribe

Guest Post - Succeeding Through Failure - by Doc Coleman

Failure is something that all creative types are familiar with, but how do you come back from the bottom of the roller-coaster and turn that failure into a success? I met Doc two years ago at BaltiCon, when I stepped in for Tee Morris as a panelist on the live recording of Doc's Shrinking Man podcast, which is a podcast that not only document's Doc's weight-loss journey but also encourages others to do the same. Doc is a fellow writer, voice actor, and podcaster, and like all of us, he is no stranger to failure.

But if you've ever seen the belt he wears to conventions--a belt that once barely buckled, but now wraps halfway again around his waist--it's clear he is also familiar with success.

Doc has kindly allowed me to share his thoughts on succeeding through failure with you today.

(Note* Font-size increases are my own.)

..*..

Does this exchange sound familiar to you?

“Well, I finished my story.”

“Oh, can I read it?”
“It’s not really good enough.”
“But you can fix it, right?”
“It’s probably not worth it. But the next story will be better. I’m sure it will.”

One of the worst judges of a given work is the author of that work. Either he will have an inflated opinion of the quality of the work, or more likely he will remain convinced that it will never be good enough. Many talented authors never manage to move their careers forward because they’re too afraid to show anyone their work. They’re so afraid of failing that they’re unwilling to take a chance at success.

No matter how bad you might think your work is, you should be willing to let people see it. A group of beta readers can be an author’s most valuable resource. We are too close to our stories. We know all the back story, all the details that never made it into the actual words. Beta readers come at a story cold. This is the test to see if you’ve managed to convey on paper (or paper analogue) just how awesome a scene was when you imagined it in your head. The beta reader’s job is to tell you what you’ve got right, and what doesn’t ring true to them. But they can’t do that job if they never get to read it.

Of course, just because a reader doesn’t like something doesn’t mean you should change it. You should consider their feedback and determine for yourself if their points are valid, or if your story really needs to be written the way you originally wrote it. Your readers let you polish your story for your eventual audience. Eventually you’ll have to find your way to put your story in front of your readers. That means either publishing your story yourself, or dealing with editors.

So now you’re looking to put your story in front of an audience, and you’re thinking about self-publishing. Scary stuff, right? Not really. The internet gives us plenty of tools that make it relatively easy to distribute your story in text or audio form. But you don’t know anything about marketing on the internet? Guess what? The big publishers don’t really know anything about it either! Try anyway. What is the worst that can happen? You fail?

Failure really isn’t that bad after all. Embrace failure. We learn much more from our failures than from studying and trying to reproduce past successes. Expect your first attempt to fail, but do it anyway, because you are going to learn a heck of a lot along the way! Sure, you will make mistakes, but you’ll learn from those and correct your course. Maybe that will be enough to save your venue and let you share your stories and build an audience, and maybe you’ll find that you’ve worked yourself into a corner and you’re not doing the kind of writing you want to. The process of finding all this out will take you time and effort, but knowing it will make your next project that much better.

But maybe you don’t want to deal with all the work of self-publishing, even on the internet. That means you’ve got to learn to deal with editors, whether you're submitting to an online publisher, such as Flying Island Press, or submitting to one of the big print on paper publishers. To do that you’ve got to find out their submission guidelines and follow them. Editors have a name for people who try to get noticed by not bothering to pay attention to submissions guidelines. They call them rejected.

OK. So you’ve found a venue that you think your story will fit into, they’re taking submissions, and you’ve followed their submission guidelines. You submit the story… and it still gets rejected. Now what?

If you don’t sell a particular story, that doesn’t mean that you’ll never sell a story. It doesn’t even mean that you’ll never sell that particular story. Every setback is an opportunity to learn. About yourself, about your audience, about your stories, and about publishing. 

Just because one editor doesn’t like a story doesn’t mean the story is bad. The next editor may buy it. Or the one after that. But even if that particular story never finds a market, the experience of submitting a story tells you invaluable things. Each submission tells you more about presenting a story to an editor. Each rejection tells you more about that particular editor and that venue. The best editors will not only tell you that they won’t be using your story, they’ll tell you why, and that will help you better place your future works.

Each rejection is an opportunity to hone your work and improve your craft. Remember, somewhere out there are 17 or so editors who rejected the first Harry Potter book. Odds are your first sale probably won’t have as big a return as that particular book, but you won't find out if you never put it out there.

Doc Coleman

..*..

And with that, I leave you with some final thoughts on failure from one amazing author who, as Doc mentioned, has seen her share of rejection and failure.


Got it Covered

Presenting the cover of EXORCISING AARON NGUYEN! This cover is a combination of efforts from three of my amazing friends: Brittany "Chiki" Fischer of Chiki Photography, Sarah Moore (model), and Elyse Revelle of Art by JezebelAssassinated.

Also, I've received permission from The Ethnographers to use their song "Looking Eyes, Holding Hearts" as the opening/ending music of the audiobook, which is really exciting! So many NC artists working with me on this.

My only non-Carolinian is the editor, Alice M. (@notveryalice on twitter), who has sent me the first round of notes. She made some really great points that I think will help me improve the story. Luckily, there's minimal rewriting involved.

Things are coming together, and I hope to be releasing the ebook version of this story in August or September, depending on how my projects for ACX go.


The Continuing Shift

This is me with Nobilis Reed. I'm 5'3". He's 6'8".
Just got back from Balticon, where I got to hang out with some of my favorite people in the world, met even more awesome people, and missed a couple folks who had other obligations. Then I drove seven hours on no sleep to make sure Rosemary didn't miss her plane. I ended up screaming out lyrics to fast-paced songs so I didn't fall asleep at the wheel. Now my voice sounds like Ke$ha. I did not wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy.

With the exception of ConTemporal, which I will be attending with the North Carolina D20 girls as part of the convention staff, this is my last con of the year. I would love to go to more, but it's just not in the cards.

If you've been reading the blog, you know I quit my day-job back in March, and things have gone about like you'd expect:
  • I thought about going back to school, but decided against it.
  • I got a part-time job scooping ice cream but it wasn't enough to pay the bills.
  • I'm moving back in with my parents, and I am very lucky to be able to do that but scared of returning to the same isolation I had when I came back from Japan.
My parents have told me not to worry about getting a job for three months. This is insanely generous of them, and I am so thankful and fortunate not only to have the ability to move back in with them, but to have their support and belief that I can actually do both voice acting and writing and make what I love into my day job.

This coming month, I'm narrating two books on ACX/Audible and have been asked to audition for another, which I may decide to accept pending audition and direct offer, because it's sold quite well on Amazon given it's recent release and the story would give me the opportunity to do some accents I rarely get to exercise...as well as read something other than romance.

But that will be after I move. Seriously, the guy downstairs moved out and they're fixing up the apartment so the new folks can move in.

Here is an example of the drilling noises I hear every day while I'm trying to record...and my voice post-Balticon.

I'm getting enough decent offers from ACX, that I really hope I will be able to support myself, at least in part, on recording. If I could just make enough to pay off my debts, I would be happy.

So I've decided my goal is to support myself through writing and voice acting.

Which brings me to another point. I am still pursuing traditional publishing, but in talking to Abbie and a few other folks, I've decided not to limit myself only to that anymore. If I can afford to put the money into my book that I would be relying on publishers for (for in-depth editing, cover art, and the marketing I would want to do) I think I have a good chance with it. However, until the market settles down and I have the capital to actually give my books the attention I want to give them, I will still be pursuing traditional publishing with my longer works. I have a lot of confidence in my writing, but I know there's room to improve - enough that I don't want to short-change my chances.

So, I'm using the Millroad Academy Exorcists series to teach myself how to do this e-publishing thing. Exorcising Aaron Nguyen is coming together well, and through the crazy chance networking opportunity generator that is Twitter, I did end up winning a free in-depth edit... which is awesome, because I never could have afforded it! I also did a reading from the second draft at BaltiCon and feel really excited about doing the audiobook version myself. I may put up the audio from that reading a bit later.

This post's shout outs include awesome new people I met:
  • Benjamin Charles Press Esq (our paths would have crossed eventually. Glad it was here.)
  • Myke Cole (who appeared on Pendragon's live panel, then gave the best 3AM pep talk ever)
  • Hugh O'Donnell (who I finally got to hang out with some)
  • Katie Bryski (a fellow author, podcaster, nerdfighter, and Disney/Musical enthusiast)
Awesome people I got to hang out with again:
  • Veronica Giguere
  • Starla Huchton
  • Nobilis Reed
  • Norm Sherman
  • Renee Chamblis
  • Doc Coleman
Friends at con who feel more like family:
  • Abigail Hilton
  • Bryan Lincoln
  • Rosemary Tizledoun
And friends I missed seeing:
  • Justin Macumber
  • Tee Morris
  • Pip Ballantine
  • John Mireau
This post brought to you by Cards Against Humanity, the best drunken pep talks ever, and staying up until 4:30 because you can't stop talking and don't want the con to end.

MAVEN, by Starla Huchton - Cover Reveal!


My fellow podcasting writer, Starla Huchton, will soon be releasing her New Adult Sci-Fi Romance story, Maven, and she has let ME share her cover with you!
How far would you go for love? 
Since losing her parents at 14, young prodigy Dr. Lydia Ashley has focused on one thing: an appointment on the Deep Water Research Command Endure. Now 21, she's about to realize that dream, but nothing is how she imagined it would be. Her transitional sponsor forgets her, her new lab is in complete chaos, and, as if that weren't enough, she's about to discover something so horrific it could potentially destroy all life on the planet.  
Daniel Brewer, a noted playboy and genius in his own right, may be exactly what she needs... Or he may make everything worse. 
Has she finally found a puzzle she can't solve?


Maven (The Endure Series, book 1), by S.A. Huchton
Genre: Science Fiction Romance (New Adult)
Release Date: June 3rd, 2013

About Starla

(Left to right: Bryan Lincoln, me, Starla Huchton)
Starla Huchton released her first novel, The Dreamer’s Thread, as a full cast podcast production beginning in August 2009. Her first foray went on to become a double-nominee and finalist for the 2010 Parsec Awards. Since her debut, Starla’s voice has appeared in other podcasts including The Dunesteef Audio Fiction Magazine, The Drabblecast, and Erotica a la Carte.

She is also a voice talent for Darkfire Productions, and narrates several of their projects, including The Emperor’s Edge series, This Path We Share, and others. Her writing has appeared in the Erotica a la Carte podcast, a short story for The Gearheart, and an episode of the Tales from the Archives podcast (the companion to Tee Morris and Philippa Balantine’s Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences series), which garnered her a second finalist badge from the 2012 Parsec Awards.

Her second novel, a Steampunk adventure entitled Master of Myth, was the first place winner in the Fantasy/Science Fiction category of The Sandy Writing Contest held annually by the Crested Butte Writers Conference. Maven is her third completed novel and the first in a planned series of four.

After completing her degree in Graphic Arts at Monterey Peninsula College, Starla opened up shop as a freelance graphic designer focusing on creating beautiful book covers for independent authors publishers. She currently lives in Virginia where she trains her three Minions and military husband.

  
Links:
Twitter: @riznphnx

Be sure to follow her on all the Social Media so you can get the latest information about Maven and the rest of the Endure series.

The Ministry Initiative Kickstarter!


You know how I said my short story, The Incident of the Clockwork Mikoshi, was going to be included in an anthology provided the kickstarted can be funded?

THIS IS THAT THING.

The Ministry Initiative - A Steampunk RPG and Anthology Kickstarter

I won't beg or plead, because I think the video speaks for itself. Give it a watch, and even if you can't support it, I hope you'll spread the word! It's already 6% funded in just a few hours!


Doesn't it look COOL! I gotta say, I am in great company with that anthology. I almost can't believe it!

Just imagine me staring at you like this.
You want to back my kickstarter now.
Oh yeah.

Why I'm Fucking Lucky


After the last post, I felt I needed a little something lighter, because there are good things coming up for me that I'm excited about and I'd hate for y'all to get the impression that I'm in a state of complete distress. Just the opposite - I'm beginning to feel free.

Yes, I will still have to move back in with my parents next month. No, I don't have an agent or a book deal yet. But I am finding the center I lost when I came home from Japan and my plans didn't work out and I had to start over from nothing.

I'm getting up early. I'm exercising. I'm doing creative things and beginning to have some success at them. Speaking of which...

ANNOUNCEMENT: The day after I posted the entry explaining why I quit my job, I got my first narration offer. I will be narrating a YA Paranormal Romance audiobook, which will be available on Audible! Three hours later, I got a request to audition for another, which I plan to submit this week.

I might be moving in less than a month, but my life is good right now. Mostly, I'm thankful for my friends. If there's one pattern I can see in hindsight, it's that (the Benevolent Universe, God, luck, whatever) always prepared me for big life shifts by giving me the people I need to feel loved and accepted so I can handle them.

Maybe I should have seen this big shift coming. In fact, I think I definitely should have seen it coming, because I've been fortunate enough to have a number of really amazing friends enter my life in the last year.


  • Friends who message me out of nowhere with pictures of flowers.
  • Friends who show up with ice cream and Fellowship of the Ring when I get rejection letters.
  • Friends who commiserate and console and encourage in just the right way.
  • Friends who convince me I'm not crazy, or if I am, they'll find the best facility to put me in.
  • Friends who open up doors they don't even know they're opening.
  • Friends I could travel the world with (and plan to).
  • Friends who text me after reading my blog, just to make sure I'm okay.
  • Friends who like me even when I feel like I don't deserve it.


It's funny, because I knew I'd have support from the friends I grew up with--the friends who are my found family--and after being lucky enough to have them, I sort of thought that I'd gotten my chance. I found my tribe early, and I thought that meant I'd exhausted my capacity.

I hadn't thought I'd be able to make close friends as an adult, especially after coming back from Japan. In the last year, however, I made a ton of friends that make me feel blessed. Through this whole shift, they've encouraged me and kept me afloat, even when I was sure I was drowning.

So yeah. I have awesome friends. From the Pagemasters to Podcasters, Magical Words to Artistic Eccentricities, and a couple people who don't need a category, I am fucking lucky.

Here there be shout outs to a few in particular:

Abigail Hilton, Bryan Lincoln, Tee Morris, Pip Ballantine, A.J. Hartley, Sarah Moore, Elyse Revelle, Ryan Graczkowski (I can spell it without looking), Erik Goodin, & Courtney McMillon. You guys proved me wrong.

On Art, Earthquakes, and Quitting My Job

Image by martinluff of flickr.
I remember my first earthquake. It was Summer of 2007, about two months after I moved to Japan. It was the middle of the night and I was asleep on my futon, which was directly on the floor beneath my overhead light. I've suffered from insomnia since high school and taken various sleep medications and the feeling was not unlike the effects of Ambien--the floor beneath me rocked like a boat. I woke up, not sure quite what was going on. I had expected something a little more like a malt-mixer or a drive over rocky terrain, so my brain didn't say EARTHQUAKE.

Then I noticed the cord on my overhead light swinging. Theory of relativity and all that, I realized it wasn't me but the earth moving. Literally.

Coming to terms with the fact that I needed to quit a stable job was similar.


What happened.

February 2013. I press the "release call" button on my phone and pull off my headset, flinging it to the desk in front of my double monitors. It's childish to throw inanimate objects, but there's no room left for shame in my chest. I stare at it like physical evidence of my inability to cope with the real world and feel the fire in my chest tear up my throat and into my eyes.

I've always been the kind of person for whom the world would end in flames, but right now the heat of my frustration and resentment isn't so much lighting things on fire as it is spilling down my face.

That triggers the shame. I hate crying. I hate being the person whose frustration and anger gets dismissed as a tantrum because any emotion that's strong enough sets off the water works. I used to get teary just asking for an extension on a homework assignment. Fear of misinterpretation or dismissal has made me ashamed of my biology.

I sweep the tears off my cheek and watch the timer for my personal time tick up as I try to breathe, to calm down. The man I'd been speaking to on the phone was angry at the organization, not at me. I knew that, and I'm usually good at the "soothing, measured voice" that calms down even the most frustrated customers. It's about the only useful thing I can do here. Vocal zen. But not today.

My patience threshold is pretty high. It might take little more than mild worry or frustration to make me cry, but it takes a lot to really piss me off. A lot of little things building up and building up, until the threshold is done and my patience level is Beyond Salvation.

My patience is like a firework.
Long fuse, but once it explodes,
it's pretty much gone.
Unlike quick-fire tempers, once I lose patience, it's pretty much gone.

I've been pissed since I opened my email that morning. Just a two sentence email letting me know my productivity was below 100% yesterday because I couldn't keep myself in the proper task codes. I know the task codes are my weakness. Management knows it's my weakness.

They also know, because I have explained to them, that I am attention deficit, and while I have learned to handle the interruptions to my work caused by phone calls, expecting me to remember nine different auxiliary codes, and remember to come out of them at the appropriate times, is an exercise in futility. It's not that I can't do the work. It's not that I couldn't learn to do the work very well given proper training and the ability to ask questions (neither of which I have); I've been told I'm a good employee and rated well in my quarterly and yearly evaluations.

But these codes are killing me.

And then to have an hour-long phone call with a man who refuses to stop talking or believe anything I try to tell him, who tells me my entire organization is incompetent (fact), and that I must be a moron for not knowing what he's asking.

"I apologize, sir," I finally said. "I was an English major in university. I've never studied business or accounting. I don't know the difference between an ethics question and a peer review question. If you would be able to determine which of these areas your question is likely to fall under, I'd be happy to connect you with the appropriate area."

"Why doesn't your company hire people who can answer these questions? I just don't understand."

"There are people who can answer these questions. Unfortunately, I'm not one of them. I would be happy to give you the numbers for both hotlines so you can contact them directly, or connect your with them now."


"It's just a simple question!"


"I understand that, sir-"


"Really? Do you understand anything? Do you speak English."


Obviously. What I don't understand is why I'm still doing this.

I sweep more tears from my face and pick up my coffee. I drink until the tightness in my throat loosens and glance at the clock. Lunch is in ten minutes. I'm already seven minutes into my ten minutes of personal time.

I pull up a document and stare at it, trying to remember where I was and what I was doing an hour ago, before the call. My face feels hot, and I'm trying to sniff quietly so my coworkers won't know I've been reduced to tears by someone on the phone. Again.

I can't seem to hold anything in these days. My tears seem at all times close to the surface.

It's at times like this I wonder what would happen if I just... walked out. Got in my car. Drove home. It's not like anyone would stop me. Hell, any of the people here whose opinion I care about wouldn't even blame me.

But why can't I do this? Why am I the only one who's constantly reduced to tears? Am I so spoiled that I can't work in unfavorable conditions?

God, I haven't even written anything new in two months. I've been too tired. That never used to matter. Maybe I don't want it enough. Maybe I've lost whatever it was I once had.

The thought creeps into my brain despite resistance: what if I give up writing? If I let go of my ambition, maybe I could be content with a dead end, frustrating job. Maybe I'd have time to sleep and relax and meet people. Maybe I'd have time for romance. Maybe I wouldn't feel so lonely.

But...give up writing.

Give up writing.

A surge of emotion chokes me as I imagine life without writing. In my mind's eye, my identity crumbles and the future is a big black tunnel with no light at the end. Nothing to reach for.

Maybe I'd have more time if I gave up writing, but what would I be? So much of myself has been dedicated to that dream for so long that I don't know who I'd be without it.

Having to explain to my writing club that I couldn't do it. High school reunions, telling people I wasn't published and wasn't trying to be because I couldn't hack real life. Hearing my closest friends call me "Scribe", but knowing I wasn't Scribe anymore.

If I gave up writing, I'd never be able to respect myself.

I can change my job. I can change my hair. I can change the country I live in or the name I go by or the clothes I put on. I can start waking up early and keeping my room clean and making schedules.

But the one thing I can't change is writing. If I change that, I will disappear. I will fade. There will be nothing left of my Self or my self respect.

I won't believe in anything anymore.

That's when the earth started shaking.

What happened next.

By February 2013, I had two finished two novels, one of which did much better than I expected with agent interest, and an award-finalist podcast on writing genre fiction. I'd finally begun speaking at conventions. I had made amazing friends who were successful in my chosen fields and to whom I feel connected. I was paying all my bills and beginning to make headway on my credit card debt.

I was completely, utterly depressed.

I was exhausted, trying to keep myself afloat and maintain enough energy to shove my writing career into being. As we all know, when you try to multitask you accomplish no task at the best of your ability.

Five years out of college and I wasn't in Japan anymore, I wasn't published, and I was in a 9-6 job I hated. It's like the ultimate first-world problem, right?

 "I'm in a job with benefits, but it's stifling me creatively!"

Boo-effing-hoo. I wasn't homeless, I wasn't working minimum wage, I had clean water to drink, and I had friends and family that loved me.

Am I so spoiled and lazy that I can't be satisfied with that?

Graphic by J. Finkelstein on Wikimedia
Let me introduce you to my little friend: Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. I first learned about this from Adryn, who was an abnormal psych major in Uni and whipped this mother out on the podcast.

It's excellent for character and society-building, but I never thought to use it for its actual purpose until...um...writing this blog post. (An typical example of my prioritization skills)

Here's something fun: growing up a white middle class American[1] means you're pretty much free to pursue Esteem and Self-actualization from birth (well, at least, once you're out of middle school and no longer worrying about Safety and Love/Belonging. Am I projecting?)

Then, if you're extra lucky, you head off to university where you continue to pursue Esteem and Self-actualization through education, and probably think once or twice about how this may translate into future safety through employment. Or you're all like:


Pshh. Employment. I'm going to study English even though I don't want to teach, because I'm going to be published by the time I'm 25!

(Shut up.)

Yup. That's me. I graduated and fluttered off to an entry-level teaching job in Japan, thrusting myself into the world of paying rent and bills and gas and food and having to actually do my own laundry and figuring out how clotheslines work in rainy season (oh yeah, and learning a foreign language to do it all in, because life's not hard enough in English).

I was so used to pursuing "Esteem" and "Self-actualization" that I continued devoting my time to creative pursuits and dreams, all the while living at the barest level of "Safety". Sometimes the financial ends did not meet and I spent the last couple of days scraping the bottom of my rice bag and hoping a private student wouldn't cancel a lesson.

But hey, I was young and in a foreign country, and it was okay to live irresponsibly for a while.

Three years later, when my visa was up, I came home. I dropped back into the "Safety" area as I fought the Hunger Games of job interviews and wondered whether I'd accidentally given my house elf a sock or something.

The problem was, my "irresponsible" living continued even when I came back to the states, only then I was unemployed for six months and racking up credit card debt while living on my parents' farm in the middle of rural North Carolina (where they had moved upon my graduation from high school). I hadn't grown up there and I didn't know anyone. A month later, my parents moved to Wisconsin, leaving me with only my older brother for company.

I was isolated, jobless, depressed, and I wasn't even writing all that much. Though I told myself I was going to "go all Thoreau on this situation," I failed. I tried to achieve self-actualization while meeting only the "Physiological" needs. The rope bridge between the base and top of my personal Maslow's hierarchy grew weaker and weaker as I ignored Safety, Belonging, and Esteem.

Not long after, I got a job in Raleigh--the city where I grew up--and was able to move in with my roommate. I hopped to two different positions before settling in a company that provided a livable salary and benefits, and I thought I was safe.

Except I wasn't.

I had achieved "Safety" in a monetary sense, and I had achieved love/belonging in my group of friends
and my roommate, but I was still trying to pursue my writing, still feeling like all the time and effort I'd put into getting an education and learning my craft was being wasted in a job that gradually wore down my energy, ignored my accomplishments, and made me feel like a person deserving of little to no respect.

Through all that, I was still clinging to my creative projects. I wanted my art. I wanted my writing and my podcasting and my cosplay. I was beginning to form a strong network of amazing friends in all those venues, but I had little time or energy to deepen those friendships. I let a very promising podcast fall by the wayside. I abandoned my rewrite of HELLHOUND.

I told myself I would have more energy once I found another job, but every time I opened a browser to search for a new job, the internal temper tantrum would begin.

I'm tired. I want to sleep. I don't have time for this. I'm sad. I'm lonely. I'm worthless. I can't sleep. I want to write.

It was after several abortive attempts to get a new job that I had that awful day at work. That day where I thought about walking out. That day where I thought about giving up writing.

I realized then that what I received in terms of financial stability was not worth the toll the job was taking on my psyche, my body, and my dreams. The earth shook, and I realized that it wasn't my inherent worthlessness that made me incapable of functioning in my job. It wasn't that the world itself was the problem, either. Earthquakes, as frightening as they can be, are not unnatural.

I just hadn't seen that swinging light, that indicator that things around me were not as I was used to them being, and in order to figure out how to make myself safe, I needed first to recognize that the shaking wasn't my fault.

The day I realized the world was shaking, I spent my lunch break finding templates and composing my letter of resignation. I printed it out. I sent an email to my supervisor requesting a meeting the next day.

I hadn't put it into words yet, but the realization is clear in hindsight.

The financial compensation wasn't enough to ensure safety, because safety is more than financial stability.


Safety is more than financial stability.


To understand that is one thing. I can read those words and understand what they mean and even agree with them. To feel it, though? To know it? To look at what the method of gaining that financial security has done to your self respect and realize that, if you continue, it will eventually force you to reject your identity? That is a completely different sort of understanding.


So I'm 28. In debt. Unpublished. Moving back in with my parents. Yes, a little ashamed. Yes, still feeling like a failure.

But also feeling hopeful. Because Safety is more than financial stability, it's also happiness. And I'm working on that.

I cry every time I see this.


[1] Note: being a white middle-class American is never to be taken for granted. Ever. Please don't complain about it. Really. Don't complain about being white and middle class. 'Cause guess what? In addition to avoiding all the usually-quoted trappings of being a minority, you never have to worry about whether you've been selected for something because of merit or because someone needs better-looking statistics. I watched a non-white friend get her acceptance letter to a long-shot school and, rather than rejoice, decide it was affirmative action and not her own merit that got her in. Let me tell you what, it sucks to watch someone belittle their own skill because they're convinced they've been selected to fill a quota and you, white girl, are in no position to convince her otherwise because educational facilities will always evaluate you based on skill, not what box you check.

*5-8-13 - Thanks to everyone who has sent me such kind, thoughtful emails and comments on facebook regarding this post. I'm glad it can provide some comfort to those going through similar troubles, and I can't tell you how much I appreciate the stream of support and love I have received. I may not be able to measure my success in money or accomplishments just yet, but, as a wise man once wrote (and many sang after him), "measure your life in love". Thanks.

Scribe's (Not) Going Back to School

Freeeeeddoooooooom!
Since my recent freedom from the old day job, I've been trying to find part-time work. This is going about as well as it did before, which is to say, it's not going that well. The economy is lousy and there's really not much out there for someone with an English BA and experience in teaching ESL.

After talking with my parents and fairly assessing the likelihood that I will go from dead-end job to dead-end job, never climbing above the poverty level, **I've decided to go back to school for a masters degree in communications, a field I have some familiarity with and--with the rise of New Media popularity--a good amount of interest in.

Of course, I'll have to get a job while I get my masters, or at least until I can satisfy all the requirements to go back full time if that's the route I decide to take. I'm still in the early stages of planning this, so I can't say much more on the subject other than: "Have GRE book. Will study."

Besides school and work, I've got several writing goals and plans this year. These are what's coming down the writing pipeline for me in 2013, though my situation is somewhat transient and these are subject to change pending the manifestation of school/work:


*My short story, The Incident of the Clockwork Mikoshi, will appear in the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences world in some exciting fashion, which I will reveal a bit later.

*I will be writing bi-monthly fantasy book reviews for Orson Scott Card's Intergalactic Medicine Show magazine, the first will be out April 8th!

*I'll be releasing a YA Paranormal Comedy novelette called BULL-RUSHING THE GHOST via podcast and ebook, likely some time in July.

*I plan to finish the first draft of the outlined novel, HERETIC'S RESONANCE, by the end of October.

*If I somehow manage to pull all that off, I'll either write a novella about a side-character during NaNoWriMo or I'll get to work on the third draft of HELLHOUND, which needs to be rewritten from the ground up to work. Maybe a few old scenes can be saved.

With all this excitement, there's also Pendragon Variety Podcast, which has started recording again and is making some headway with the first issue of the Literary Magazine. I'm also looking forward to auditioning for some paid voice recording work with ACX, an Audible affiliate. Now wouldn't THAT be a way to pay my way through school?

Did I mention I was a bit overcommitted? Because I'm also doing some more voice work and attending or speaking at at least four more conventions this year.

Needless to say, everything but the writing and school will have to slow down once I find a job, but for now, I'm steering my life down a path I'm excited about.

What are your plans this year?

**I have decided not to go back to school, actually, but to try to support myself with writing, voice-acting, and part-time work. Yes, I am crazy, but I have to start treating myself like a pro and do what makes me happy.

Open Windows - I Quit My Job and Suddenly There's Better Stuff to Do

I used to love The Sound of Music. I watched it over and over again when I was a kid, and one of the quotes that always stood out to me was "When God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window."

As a kid, my initial reaction was "But windows are smaller and harder to walk through. And they all have screens." Because I live in the South, where windows have screens.

Anyway, I get the point of that quote now. I recently walked away from my job, and while that was scary, I had to close the door on that workplace. As soon as I did, a window opened. Then another.

Yeah. They're smaller windows. Neither of these opportunities is going to pay the rent, but the amount of light they let into my metaphorical office is incredible. I apologize in advance for failing to name names, but I don't want to put anyone on the spot if either of these falls through. When/if they are officially announced, I will scream it from the mountain tops...because they're pretty cool.

Opportunity the First

My last day at work was the 5th. The previous weekend, I attended StellarCon with Skrybbi and we spoke on a few panels relating to podcasting, writing, and publishing. It was a pretty chill weekend; we relaxed with knitting and drawing and watched the crowd for familiar faces. It just so happened we ran into one.

I was a little surprised when he said he needed to chat with us about something and even more surprised when that "something" turned out to be an offer. The magazine he edits has an opening for their bi-monthly fantasy book review column, and he thought one of us would be able to take over. The exposure alone is great, let alone the fact that it's paid writing.

Needless to say, I jumped on that offer like I was Benedict Cumberbatch and someone was asking me to do any project at all ever.

He also asked if we had the audio quality set-up to do a sporadic recording for the magazine's stories. Needless to say, I will be recording a sample and sending it in, because I'm trying to get more voice acting done. Which reminds me, I should probably do those lines for Bryan and Bigg and Hugh and Marshall and Scott........*cough*

Opportunity the Second

I recently wrote a (debatably) short story for some friends of mine, who invite their writer friends to play in their world via a collection of podcast fiction. I turned it in around New Years, and this past weekend, one of the friends contacted me to chat about the story.


There was a bit of discussion about changing the main character's background, and while I was a little hesitant (because I wasn't sure where that request was coming from), I was willing to consider the idea. Then he told me the reason for the request: it wasn't because there was an inherent problem with the character, it was because they wanted to put the story in the anthology they're planning and the character's background would have to fit.

A couple of things went through my mind at this point mostly just SQUEEEEEEE, but I try to keep my dignity.


  • I was immediately worried I wouldn't be able to pull it off. Part of what I love about the main character is his voice, but his voice isn't necessarily inherent to his background. His accent could change without the character himself changing, and that seems doable.
  • I would have to come up with a new background. Right. Because that's not something I do all the time. Sit down, Lauren.
  • The story's point hinged on the conflict between the two countries. Five minutes of google confirmed there were enough wars at the time to comfortably shift the main character's country of origin without make significant changes to either his backstory or the cultural conflict.
  • I needed to do research.
  • Wait a goddamn minute.
  • I love research. (No, really)
  • Anthologyyyyyyyy...*grabby hands*
  • Tie in with a popular, traditionally published steampunk series.
There's a famous line by a famous writer that goes, "Sell when you can; you are not for all markets". I gotta say, I'm with the Bard on this one.

What does this mean?

It means I will get paid for my writing, and it means I will have some exposure for my name. It also means I can put these shiny things in my query letters.



Leap...

I turned in my two week notice at work today.

I'm not giving up who I am and what I love because I'm too exhausted to think straight.

I have nothing lined up, but I have a few leads. I have enough in my account to pay for rent and bills and car payment. I will get two more paychecks. I will have insurance until the end of March.

I'm terrified.

But I think I've done the right thing.

Time to build the flying machine on the way down.