Man, I get a little distracted ..

and I forget all about this blog! oops. *blush*

Well, to all my loyal readers: I'm planning, in August, to release a paperback copy of the first year of Warriors of the Sun God, with a few extra goodies in there.

Other projects I'm working on: my religious blog, the novel I'm writing, the novel I'm editing, the novel I'm plotting out. The novella I'm working on. The Neverwinter Nights module I'm creating with my husband.

And now I'm looking at city-builder games and thinking that I've got a great setup for one, and I'm going to work out as much of it as I can and hopefully find a buyer.

Oh yeah. and in my "spare" time, I mother my wee widdle one. What, me, an overachiever? :D

Can't stop giggling!

I've been feeling down because I haven't had a lot of readers for Warriors of the Sun God. I work hard, after all. I want people to actually see it!

So I posted an ad. And I've already gotten tons of hits!

Any new readers, welcome, welcome! I'm so very happy to see you!

and yes, I'm giggling gleefully. FANS!!!!!!

Obsession of ideas

Why is it that the more I shouldn't write, the more my mind spits up ideas and plots? I live in a seething volcano of ideas, new ones being spat out in ever-increasing numbers to boil around my feet when I'm least able to dance on top of them.

I started a new story today. One for the Death Machine anthology, which means I have to write it fairly quickly. I have until the end of April to finish it and submit it. Normally, no real problem .. but what to do now? Do I work through the pain? Do I do my best to take care of myself, and the hell with the opportunity?

I want to write. It calls to me, sings to me, whispers sweet seductions of miracles and insanity in my ear. It is what I am, all else stripped away. I will always be a teller of stories.

But when they say an artist has to suffer, did they mean so literally?

Carpal Tunnel Sucks

Yes, there's a certain irony in typing about why typing hurts. I'm being careful. And, this is a lot shorter than my actual work.

But it HURTS not being able to get work done. I want to write. I love to write. I spent all weekend wanting to write and not being able to.

I have to be good. I have to limit myself. I have to be responsible and be the grownup and take care of myself.

And it sucks.

How much work?

How much work is "enough" to do in a day? I find myself struggling with that. On really good days, I get "done" before noon. But then I feel like a slacker if I don't work in the afternoon - when my son is dragging me off to take a walk, and everything I had planned is finished.

So what's enough? What's doing a good day's of work?

If I push too hard, I make myself miserable. I get obsessed by output and trying to do more than I can. There's only so much mental energy I have during a day. And, let's face it, when you're a SAHM, once naptime's over there's not a lot of free time.

So. The smartest thing to do, then, is cut back. It's easy to give myself too much to do and then berate myself for not doing it. But I already produce an astonishing amount of copy a day for a writer. I don't need to do more. More won't get me published faster if it makes me miserable. More won't get me happier. More won't even be any good. It'll just be more.

It's hard, because I can see what it is that I want, and I'm not there. But I won't get there if I burn out now, either.

So I guess I have to be gentle with myself.

Weirdnesses of Motherhood

I took my son for a walk today. Or at least, I meant to. I was having a really good day and had all my writing-work done for the day, and it was actually warm outside. (50s. my standards of warm are really low this time of year).

So I put on his little shoes and out we go. And he drags me to the garage. When I finally convince him to stop trying to open it for me (we don't have a powered door) he drags me back to the front door. And then repeat.

What ever happened to going for a walk?

Rejection

It's the flip side of wanting publication, of course: rejection. I got yet another rejection letter yesterday. *sigh* (no, I'm not saying from where. That's not what's important)

What matters is how one handles it. It's far too easy to think that rejection of a story means you can't write, that the story is awful, that you just shouldn't be allowed out in public. That it's time to quit. But that's not true. It doesn't even mean the story is bad. It means that it wasn't right for that place at that time.

Doesn't mean I didn't spend last night thinking nasty things about the person that rejected me. It still hurts. But it does mean that the important thing is to move forwards and find a way to do better the next time. Every successful author has a pile of rejection letters somewhere.

It never stops hurting. But it has to also motivate me to write more, better, and try to sell more. Or I'll fall apart.