At least 31237 of them

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31 237 is currently the number of words on the cutting room floor.

Vs.

59 258 words that have been edited and are being kept (currently)

Vs.

37 448 words that have to be gone through and edited.  Keep Vs. Don’t keep.  Tweak and merge VS slash all together.  Re-order, re-order, re-order.  And some drafting because I am doing alternating POV’s and I need to make sure it balances.

This is what you hear about when you want to become a writer and you don’t believe it.  You think that every word you write is gold and you will keep it all, and it will all come out magically in order and completely perfect the first time.

Okay, maybe not you, but I definitely thought that before I got into it really truly.

And you know the great thing about those rose tinted glasses, was that they allowed me to start and keep on going.  To even, when I realized that reality had shifted, and things where messier and harder than I thought, I kept going anyways, because now I was in too deep.  Now quitting is an affront to all of the effort that younger naive Julia has already put in.

Older more mature Julia knows the dangers.  Knows that here there be dragons, but she’s levelled up and packed a tool kit that she thinks can handle the job.  I have a sword for slashing and slaying the words that don’t work.  I have some potions to heal the parts that need some TLC.  I have some fairy dust, to shine and make fly the parts that need to soar. I have a light to see my way through the dark.  And a compass to find the direction of the novel, even when it is tangled and all feels lost.

Writing is a choose your own adventure novel, except you’re in charge, and you need to cut the bits that don’t fit. Even if the banter is amazing.  Even if the writing is superb.  Even if the colours look amazing but clash with the rest of the decor.  Sometimes clashing is the point,  sometimes it’s not.  Knowing that difference is experience.

My novels is at least 31 237 words of how not to write a novel.  But it is also 31 237 words of figuring out how to write a novel.  It is 31 237 words of not giving up and trying something new.  Of finding a different way around that curve in the bend up ahead.

There is this scene, that I spent days working on, possibly weeks, when I first thought of this book.  I LOVE this scene.  This is the first kiss scene.  You know where it lies?  On the cutting room floor.  Because I had to go back and write my way around and up to that point, and once I got to that point, I had so much other meat, that that point was no longer relevant and I was making altogether a different point there.

I have started this novel so many times.  At least twice before now.  In different incantations has this novel lived.  But the plot wasn’t right.  I didn’t quite have the heart of it.  The whose who that would make this tick.  The clock that drove Hook crazy.  So I scrape those too.

What I’m telling you is don’t quite.  It’s harder than you thought, yes, 100% yes. But it is also more worth it than you thought too.  Because of all of the parts that didn’t work, I’m more determined to make the parts that do work shine.  I know what skeletons lie slayed  beneath them.  I know what blood sacrifices that have come before.  At least 31 237 of them.

A View from anxiety

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I don’t talk about this a lot because well I try not to be this person.  This person is an ugly version of myself, who is scared and fragile and paralyzed by fear.

See I grew up with a background of abuse.  This will shape you as a person.  See what I did there.  I said you.  I distanced myself from the fact that yes I was shaped by that.  I put it on someone else who is not me.  But it is me; I was shaped by this.

It makes me questions who I am.  It makes me second guess a lot.  It makes me fearful of people in authority figures.  On good days I can navigate through the world and I’m not thinking of this background.  I’m me, just being me, and I like me most of the time.

On bad days, days where I am anxious or nervous, or feeling sad or hurt, I think about this more.  How my past has shaped me, and how I must second guess myself.  Because my initial examples in this world where not always positive.  And I have to personally fight against bad examples.  I have to remember to not hurt someone simply because I’m hurting.  That there is a difference between expressing how I am feeling in a productive manner, and lashing out on those around me.  But sometimes, I get so hurt, that I can’t see through that fog, and I don’t possess logic any longer and I lash out.  I hate when I do that.  I try not to be that person, but I know I can be that person.

I also have anxiety.  Other words we use for it are nervousness and excitement.  But to me the feelings all funnel into anxiety, and I feel like I have a little monster sitting on my breast bone.  If you see me pressing my breast bone, it’s because the little monster is there that day.  Sometimes that monster, will grow tentacles into my belly.  Sometimes it locks its gears up and it hurts to bad I can barely breath, like my entire chest is locked.  Sometimes it crawls up my throat and I feel like I am going to be sick.

I try to remember to be easy on myself, but there is a difference between being easy and not pushing too hard lest I melt down under the stress, and being lazy and being paralyzed into inaction.  I’ve done both.  I’ve gone too hard, done too much, and found myself a sobbing mess.  I’ve backed off and given myself space, and then stopped all together, and then am disappointed because I’m getting nowhere, but I’m at fault because I’m not putting in the time.  I need to get back to putting in the time.  I need to find a way to separate in my brain that right now things suck, because of reasons I can’t control, and that right now we want an instant solution to a less sucky situation, but right now we don’t have it, and so instead of wallowing in the current suck, let’s work on those long term goals.  Those long term goals will not get us out of the clear of right now, but it will give us something to focus on to survive right now with hope for tomorrow.

See what I did there, I went from an I to an us as well.  Like there is more than one version of me.  And there is.  I am not schizophrenic, or at least I don’t think so, but I do believe there are different versions of yourself.  I am different when it’s just me, compared to me with my friends.  I am different when I am happy to when I am sad.  And I like to sometimes think of them as being separate versions of me.  They are all me, and they all deserve their time and space.  The internet makes you feel sometimes like you are not allowed to be sad or upset, or rail at the injustices of the world. It puts on this super happy music and says always look on the bright side of life, dodododododododo.  You know that song.  And like yes, that is me.  Ever the optimist, because seriously that is how I survived my background.  The belief that it gets better.  However, it’s okay to feel sad, and sometimes you just need your space for that.  We don’t get to put sadness in a bubble and ignore it.  It needs to be acknowledged and felt, and accepted as part of the process.

So this is my confession. I am a hot mess right now.  I am full of stress and anxiety, and it’s all situational, and it’s nothing I can control.  But I am also tired of saying to myself, I will focus on my heart projects once everything else is sorted.   Life will not be sorted out.  And this heart project is a long term project.  It won’t bring short term relief.  But I won’t get that long term goal if I never make time for the heart project. I am going to channel this feeling of unease into productivity, and rest control out of my life where I can.

Also, know that you are not alone.  That we all have our own monsters.  That is okay.

You may not be political, but you should (from someone who hates politics)

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I’m going to do a thing, which I normally don’t do, and I’m going to talk Politics here.  Mostly because I have been thinking about Brexit and the US Campaign.

Some background…. I’m Canadian.  That means that even when we are conservative, we are still a little liberal.  We can have people in relationships with opposing politic viewpoints and still have them be functional.  We do not define who we are based on our politics, or who we associate with based on our politics.  For the most part we try to be open minded and understanding, even when we disagree.  Those are some broad brush strokes I’m taking there,  but for the most part it’s true.

So this past fall we voted.  For Prime Minister. And we got Justin Trudeau.

I’m going to be hella honest with you, I come from a union town, so it would make sense for me to vote NDP.  However, I am from a younger generation worried about our future priorities, and so I also have a personal fondness for the Green Party, even though they barely qualify for representation.  My thought in voting Green in the past, has been, how they will ever grow if those who support them throw their vote in another pot, because they don’t have the base they need yet.  We have to stand behind them to give them that base.

But this past political season I took a look at the landscape and made a strategic decision.  I voted based on who I didn’t want in, and who would be most likely to beat that person.  I did not want a return to Harper.  I voted for Justin.   And by golly did this work.  I followed as the votes came in, following the numbers to see how the different areas in the country went.

I DO NOT FOLLOW POLITICS.  As a rule of the past, that has been how it went.  Politicians lie and they never get anything done.  However, I can see now, as I a more mature adulty like person, that politics are complicated, and to get anything done requires a lot of people to pull in the same direction, and with personal agenda’s taking play, that can be very hard.  We are supposed to be voting in people who have the good of the people at heart, but I think that system is a bit skewed.  What they have in mind is the good of their own agendas, and we can just hope that their agendas are actually our agendas.  So mostly in the past, I have steered clear, doing the minimum amount necessary, like voting.  Because I still believe in voting.

This past voting season is where it got real for me.  I was fed up and I wanted change.  I have so far been impressed at what Justin has accomplished, and the direction he is taking us in, and his reaction to tragedies as they come up.  He has been very public, and comes across as a person for the people.

So we did it.  We got change.

But Brexit happened, and they came down so hard on the opposite side of the line from where we are.    They took their vote, and some casted votes as a lark, thinking that surely it wouldn’t go through so what would it hurt to vote for something they didn’t truly support. It hurt.  Thank you Scotland though for seeing clearly, and understanding that you have a voice.

And we have this situation south of the border from us, where it looks like it’s going to be a Hillary Vs. Trump situation.

And I just want you to take a moment and look at historical evidence from the global political market in recent history (this past year).  You can vote for change – Example Canada.  We voted strategically and it worked.   Do not throw your vote away on a lark – Example British, and they haven’t even enacted the terms of their leaving yet.  They just voted on it, and things came crashing down.

I know our victory was quieter because we were successful and things didn’t go horribly wrong.  It’s easy to forget that your neighbours, Canadians, recently voted for change and won successfully, because things are relatively smooth sailing up here.  But those are the people you want to look to.  The ones who aren’t splashing all over the media pages because of their tragedies.   You want to know, what are we doing right.  You want to figure out that formula and emulate as much as possible (I mean if that’s what you’re into).

It is more than just a reality TV show you are watching.  This is the future of your country and generations to come.  We want to set them up for success.  Success is a long term game, not a short term game, and we need to start looking at our politics in that light.

So that is my political rant.  Be wary of how you vote and the consequences of that vote.  You can vote for change.  You do matter.

Blog style VS book style VS work style

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So I did a personality test the other day, and by other day you understand some unrecognizable time in the past, that I can still remember I did it, but just not when, and it said something along the lines of me having the personality type of INTJ (I cheated I found the facebook post)…

For reference this is where I took the quiz: https://www.16personalities.com/

And this was the interpretation for writers: http://maggie-stiefvater.tumblr.com/post/142305220801/mbti-writers

And because I am me, I’ve cut out the relevant bit for me:

INTJ: Some of them write how-to books on conquering the world or analyses of influential leaders in history. But then there the INTJs who write poetic-like pieces that are at once to-the-point and elegant in style.

This is it. This is why my blog posts read sometimes like how to manuals because I am using a very analytical part of my brain, and why my books have all these feelings and poetry in them to describe stuff.  And I think why can’t I marry the two of them, and be this prolific writer who has a clear voice like Chuck Wendig, but not him, because his style is clearly his own, and while I appreciate who pronounced said style is, I know it is not my style.

At work, I’m very analytical.  I am problem solving focused.  That means I don’t get to use my flowery writing skills. I am disseminating information.  I must figure out how to break it down in a clear and concise manner, with logical flow.

But books. Sure they need logical flow, but they also need chaotic mess, and from that depths curls out the smoke of the sleeping dragon.  They need feelings and human experience, and that my friends is not clean.  It is messy.  It is paint splatter on the walls, and broken cages where hearts used to lie.  It is bones made up of books and fairy tales.  It is anomalies to the space time continuum that change entire landscapes and pulses.

And here on this blog, I flit between the two.  I’m trying to meld two different styles.  One with logic, and one with creative flow.  So excuse me while my kitchen (and by kitchen you understand I mean blog) is a bit of a mess.  I’m never sure if I will be able to capture and force together those opposites.  It’s like writing a kissing scene in a novel, where you have spent the entire novel not letting them kiss, and now it’s like, nope, we are not doing this thing.

Also I highly recommend that windbag Chuck Wendig.  He’s funny, but rambly and long.  And offensive.  But clearly has style out the wazoo.

Because I have found my voice, even though it is but a whisper in a storm

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I didn’t know what to say about the recent tragedy in Orlando. I wanted to look away and not process it.  Pretend it didn’t happen.  But that is not the truth.  It did happen.

I feel powerless in the face of these tragedies. I feel like my voice is of little consequence in the discussion.  My thoughts and prayers are not of value because:

  1. I don’t pray. I believe it a false sentiment meant to absolve you of any responsibility for taking further action. Gods may offer you comfort. But my belief is this, if God is true, then they are a jackass. How could such a tragedy befall us, if there was some omnipotent being looking out for us. And also who are you to judge one group of people from being better than another. Being more worthy of your love.
  2. My thoughts are not meant to support you and abnegate me from responsibility. My thoughts are those of outrage. My thoughts are those of disbelief. My thoughts are those of deep sadness. My thoughts are those of powerless ness as I sit here across the border in Canada, with no power to do anything regarding this tragedy.

My voice is nothing in this conversation, so I kept mute. But now, I can’t.  Now I know, even if I am but a whisper in the rage against a storm, I ask of you in a truly Canadian fashion, please do something about gun control.  Please stop offering only your thoughts and prayers as a way to absolve yourself from responsibility.  Please step up and do something more.  You can do more, and you have to stop hiding behind your beliefs like they will solve the issue.  They have not.   They have created the problem.  Reassess.  Adjust, and do something.

Guns have not stopped the problem. Guns do not make you safe.  They are a false sense of security.  Remove them from the equation.  Please.

This post was inspired by John Scalzi, who said it better than I did. Please read his post.  Please see the culmination for what it is.  They are not separate incidents.  You have created a culture where shooting people because you don’t agree with them is the solution, and you have absolved them with thoughts and prayers.

Stop sitting idly by.

Do something.

Balance is a lie

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Once upon a time I used to be a girl who lived her life by a to do list.  Each night I had a list of at least 10 things, sometimes more, that I would power through.  Some times, things would shift from day to day, but mostly I set myself up to be a productive person.  It helped when Cowboy was out of town working, to alleviate the stress and anxiety because I had a plan for when I got home of what I would do, what needed my attention, and as long as I had that, I could not think about how I missed him.  Bonus I felt super productive.

It helped me learn how to take action and do things on my own.  How to be self sufficient and do the hard things, the things like call my credit card, or make a doctors appointment.  How to fix something if it was broken, like a faucet.  Put up a new coat of paint.  If it was on the list, it had to get dealt with.

But it came to a point where i felt all I was, was a to do list.  There where other pressures in life as well, and eventually I had to back off.  I had to let go, and I had to learn to be kinder to myself, less driving.  It was okay if I put an evening of reading a book on there.  That was no less productive than making sure I went to the gym, walked my dogs, and cleaned the house top to bottom.

Eventually I ditched that to do list.

It.

Was.

Freeing!!!!

I loved it.

This was the me, I needed to be at the time.  Kinder to myself.  More forgiving.   Less driving.

But then, disorganization and chaos.  Things started to pile up again, and my anxiety started to rear it’s ugly head.  It started to get nervous about doing things, that I had previously conquered, like doctors appointments, and calling credit cards about stuff.    It started to want me to hide, and be less of the confident capable woman I know I can be.

We talk a lot about balance in life and finding it.  And I feel a lot like i am on a teeter-totter.  On this end, I am to driving, and I feel worn out, on the other end, I am too lax, and I let my anxiety rule me, shoving my head further and further into the sand.

Life does not contain Balance.  This is a lie we tell ourselves, as we chase this illusion.  There is no magic formula.  We will not have perfect lives.  All we have is right here, right now, and we have to do the best we can with that, and make plans for the future, but also be kind to ourselves, knowing that life changes.

I’m giving up the search for balance.  I’m figuring out how to do me right now.

I still use a mental to do list before I go into work each day.  This helps me get prepared for the day and I know what projects ideally I would like to work on, taking into consideration that my day can shift at any point, because that’s what customer service is about.

I’m getting back to the personal to do list, but finding ways to be kinder, more gentle about it.   Finding ways to break things down so they get done, and I can feel productive, but also giving myself enough leeway to have free time.  It’s not perfect.  Sometimes things will go on there, that don’t end up fitting with how the day rolls out.  But in the end, I need my to do list, more than I don’t need it.  I just have to remember to put read a book on it, and mean it.

Stop chasing the illusion of balance.  This is a lie.  Be the you you need to be right now.  Sometimes that means being hard on yourself.  And sometime that means being kind to yourself.  But remember that you need both in your life, and that seesawing around is  100% normal.

We are a series of ups and downs.  Learn to embrace that, and work with it, and forgive yourself, and push yourself.

We are not balance.

I am what I am

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I have fallen down the rabbit whole.  I have always known that this whole exists for me.  I have maybe sometimes not 100% admitted this to myself, but deep down, I knew who I was as a reader.  And it is this.  I. LOVE. ROMANCE!

Every single book I read, I am always interested to know who is hooking up with who.  Who is falling in love with who?  Who is kissing who?  I want that emotional connectivity in my novels.  Sure there can be space pirates, and high speed chases, and explosions, but who is kissing who?  This is the truly important question.

Even if the book is not a kissing book, I’m still wondering if it could be.  Example, The Story of Owen, and Prairie Fire by E.K. Johnston, are not inherently kissing books.  I knew this after the first book.  But did that stop me from wondering in the first book where the romantic liaisons might lie?  Not at all.  Even getting into the second book I knew who was with who, and yet, a small part of me was still shipping people who had no right to be shipped.  I LOVED those books.  They where awesome and amazing and funny and truly Canadian.  But still, I am who I am.

So this winter, while in a fitful reading slump I took up some romantic erotica based  on a book recommendation from a favorite author.  Thank you twitter.  And it was a snowball.  I was like okay I should get back to my YA, I love that stuff, BUT they are not as sexually evocative.  Which is cool, because while I am a women in her thirties, these books are not written for me, they are written for teenagers, I just happen to like reading them.  Also they shouldn’t be as evocative.  I’m not asking them to be.  But there is a part of me that wants to mash up some of my favourite writers in YA and there style with edgier romance.  (writer brains is starting to think that maybe she can do this.  Writer brain lets first finish our WIP)

I am firmly entrenched in the romance genre right now.  I keep thinking I might need to take a breather, get back to something else, and then I pick up another romance book.  Heck right now I’m in the MC section of that, very sons of anarchy, and I don’t see that stopping.  Heck I see myself rewatching sons of anarchy instead.

This is the truth I tried very hard not to admit, because someone who I grew up with was very judgy about romance novels.  Very much called them trash.  Garbage for the brain.  And yet, I love that human connectivity element.  I love falling in love with the characters. I like the warm fuzies.  Those charged moments.  All of it.  And so screw you neigh sayers.  Romance is my genre.  I embrace.  You are mine, and I am yours.