I’m up to my eyeballs in novels at the moment!

I mentioned on an earlier post that I was submitting a novel to a major publishing house and I did. What I didn’t say is I also prayed, “Lord, if I’m supposed to self-publish please close this door.” before I did it. Since I was submitting largely to fulfill an old dream, I had more of a nothing ventured, nothing gained attitude than the intense emotional investment I’ve had in the past. That’s not to say I didn’t present a professional, well edited submission package. I did. The best I’ve ever submitted before and one I was proud of. What was different from years past is that I knew however the situation turned out was the way it was supposed to be so I didn’t take the rejection personally. In fact, it didn’t bother me at all.

Added to that, I found some company reviews I’ve never seen in all my years of research disclosing personal experiences with this publisher. While waiting up to three months to be rejected isn’t what any writer wants to happen, waiting eighteen months for editors to have multiple conferences about your book only to finally reject it wouldn’t sit well with me. Nor would waiting two years to have my book finally accepted only to wait another year or two to have it published. I’m not talking about going through the editorial/rewriting process. I’m talking about receiving the initial “Yay” or “Nay” to get the ball rolling.

The funny part is I didn’t discover any of that information until after I’d been rejected. It was weird because I typed in the same keywords I’d used before and these articles suddenly popped up at the top of the page I think it was a God thing – the confirmation I needed to go my own way. Release outdated dreams. You can think it’s coincidence if you want. Either way, I appreciated seeing a truth I’d never seen.

Anyways, from how things have changed since I started this journey many years ago, I’m not sure what the benefits of getting published by a major publishing house are for an unknown writer like me except some imaginary sense of legitimacy I don’t need that any more. I’m validated by having six completed novels in three genres, thirty plus fanfics, and one non-fiction self-help under my belt. I think it’s past time to lay that insecure part of me to rest. The part that felt I couldn’t call myself a writer until a major publishing house published me. Baloney. I’m a writer.

Now, it’s time to chase the more important dream. The one that says I write for the love of the story. I’m in a different place with my writing and my editing abilities than I was in the past. I’m in a different place with my story telling. I no longer work outside the home, so I have both the time and the resources to self-promote. I understand myself better at this stage of my life than I did when I was younger, too.

I know I can write anything I want to as long as it’s in my wheel house. Once upon a time, I could have written fantasy and sci-fi as well as romance because I lived in that world. I could have written supernatural romances. Again, I lived in that world. My creativity was wide open in my twenties and I embraced everything. However, I was limited by what I thought I could do. Although I wrote a contemporary romance – one that started out as a potential magazine short story written around prompts – I never believed I could write that genre. Three contemporaries later, yes, I can although it’s a recent development. I won’t pretend those books are anything more than they are – chick fic, easy beach reads – and I like them all. While I’m still several weeks from getting the books out there, I’ll know soon enough if the world feels the same.

While I enjoy writing contemporaries, I’m the most emotionally invested in Historicals/Historical romances. That’s to be expected. I love history and I love historical research. I enjoy creating interesting characters that are neither good nor bad; but human and flawed. Characters that can’t be judged by the same standards we’d judge a person today because the laws and the protections we have now didn’t exist then. I enjoy putting them on the edge of the precipice and pushing them over. I enjoy writing realistically and graphically in a way I won’t with contemporaries.

I’m also a bit of a ghoul when it comes to history and historical romances. While I enjoy viewing day-to-day objects like a Bronze Age bulla or an Etruscan earring, the skeletons affect me the most. Largely because of their humanity. Because that skeleton was a man or a woman just like me in all the ways that matter. I feel that deeply and respectfully. That person loved, hated, and bled. They lived. They died. I want to understand as much of their life as I can and those bones in the ground tell so much – a person’s general health, their age, what they did for a living, what area they originally came from, whether a female had borne a child, if a male was likely a warrior, farmer, or an athlete. Sometimes, how a person died. The list goes on.

This information is important from an archeological/historical perspective. It’s invaluable to me in developing my historical characters. When facial reconstructions are done, I get an idea of how a person looked from a different time period. That more than anything cinches the whole, “I am them and they are me” emotional bond I feel with, say, a girl named “Ava” who lived in Scotland 3800 years ago. Or with King Richard III. Since I’ve always believed he received a raw deal historically speaking, I was ecstatic when his bones were finally found. Getting to see how he might have looked through forensic fascial reconstruction was icing on that cake. As crazy as that sounds, since I first read his story when I was in my teens, I had a secret hope he’d be found in my lifetime. I never expected it to happen. When it did, it was a real, “Wow!” moment.

You might wonder what all of the above insanity has to do with writing. A lot for me when I’m crafting historical/historical romances. It’s invaluable. It fuels my imagination and my characterizations. Take Thor, yes, that’s his name since he’s based on a real person who lived in the 12th century. One we have, maybe, one or two short paragraphs about in the historical record. However, the little we do know was enough to fuel my imagination. He came to me fully formed in my mind based largely on years of historical research. I already knew what I envisioned was plausible in terms of his height, build, and coloring. I also knew the story and characterizations unfolding in my mind were plausible as well. Don’t get me wrong, my novel is fiction; but, the framework it’s crafted on is real. For me, that’s what makes a historical come alive.

For a post just meant to say that I’m actively working on Part III, I’ve meandered down a lot of bunny trails. What else is new? Being laser focused on a story is limiting. When I come over here, my desire to run free tends to get the best of me.

Until next time,

Calla

I realize my work has just begun. I’m in the midst of editing which is my least favorite aspect of writing. Unlike years ago, I now catch typos, missing words, and spelling errors the editing tool doesn’t. That’s largely due to personal growth and maturity. I’m doing what I have to do. While I’m not fond of the process, I no longer say, “I hate to edit.” In fact, I enjoy knowing I’m improving my work. I also recognize that, unlike my fanfic, my novels represent me and the standards I hold myself to. That’s important. While my style of writing and/or my stories may not appeal to everyone, my manuscript should reflect my commitment to excellence.

Beyond the technical formatting, that commitment includes using words properly. I spend a lot of time verifying spellings and definitions. While a word might sound good in a sentence, it’s the wrong word if it doesn’t mean what I’m trying to say! I also spend a lot of time searching the Thesaurus for just the right word. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. That’s when I compromise and accept the “perfect” word has eluded me. At that point, I let it go knowing sometimes I’ll find what I’m looking for farther down the road. Often in the midst of editing. That whole concept of just putting something on paper and moving on has gone a long way towards eliminating writer’s block for me. I can sculpt the masterpiece later. Right now I need to put some defining chips in that shapeless hunk of stone.

I do that by seizing on the element I’m writing my story around. That may be a character or an event. It might be a more abstract idea. It varies. Yeah, I’m a weird one and I’d never tell anyone to write the way I do. My novels have always downloaded in my mind from start to finish. My brainstorming and outlining is more about fleshing out details and connecting dots than developing storylines. My characters are old friends from the beginning. I know how they look, feel, and act without really thinking about it.

On the one hand, all of that’s a good thing. On the other, sometimes I think it would be easier to follow conventional wisdom. Not going to happen. In most things, I see the big picture before I can contemplate the details. Writing is no different. While I’d like to start with an outline and write in a more methodical fashion, I never get anywhere when I try. Talk about massive writer’s block. I have to start writing, get in the flow, set up my beginning, middle, and end – then I can outline to a certain degree and I usually do. See, it’s weird; but it works for me.

So, the best words of advice I can give any wanna be writer is to find your style of writing and what works for you. What lets you complete a story. If the step-by-step, tried and true, works for you, go for it. It never has for me. I keep bringing it out every now and then only to bog down and fail miserably, Know, as well, that unless you’re incredibly gifted, your writing won’t be great from the start. It probably won’t even be good. There will be lots of mistakes. Lots of room for improvement and growth. Know also the more you write, the better you get.

I know this is true; but I’m never happy with the finished product. I always feel I can do better. While that may be true, I know I have to find a stopping point where I make peace with my work and declare “this is good enough.” If I don’t, I’ll never finish. The same will be true for you. There will come a point after you’ve edited, rewritten, and edited however many times when you’ll know it’s time to stop. If you don’t, you’ll make a mess of all your hard work. I know. I’ve done it.

I’m on my forth or fifth edit on this little 50,000 word novel. When I finish this one, I’m done. I feel it. I’ll do a final read through for flow and to catch little mistakes like missing words and the like; but I’m not making any major changes. I’m not wracking my brain to see if I can write that sentence better or second guessing my choice to write a scene that way. The next major edit will happen when a publisher buys my novel. I’ll make their changes and I’m done.

For real.

Until next time,

Calla

As much as I’d like to wax on about the plump Mama Cardinal delicately eating seeds outside my window, I won’t. I’ll try to stay on point and blog about writing instead. I don’t know what initially started my love affair with story telling. Probably the love for reading I learned from my mother. Or, more likely, the fact I love words. I love descriptive words in particular. Words that make me envision what the writer is attempting to share. I love words and phrases that make me feel deeply.

Things like: “Stance shifting to the left, Edward stared into the swirling mists. Shrouded in mystery, worn by the ages, the monument stood poised defiantly against the tempestuous sky. It’s creator long forgotten in the murky past, it was here his eyes came to rest in the blood-soaked shadow of the mighty Cross. It was here where it all began. The bane of Drummonds past and present.” While I’m sure this will simplify as I continue to write this historical “romance” – I hesitate to tack the romance onto the genre since it’s more realistic than most romances – this paragraph illustrates my love for descriptive words. Whether that’s a good thing remains to be seen. What makes me feel and create pictures in my mind isn’t necessarily what will do the same for my readers!

While I don’t live by my emotions anymore, I enjoy a story that grabs me by the heart or the gut and doesn’t let go. The words that grip me don’t necessarily have to be eloquent, polished, or polite at this stage in my life. I’m long past the Southern “ladylike” pretentiousness of my younger days. I gravitate towards more visceral instead.

However, I don’t advocate being rude, crude, or vulgar either. That doesn’t captivate me. I can’t embrace the casual profanity of today. I won’t say I never have. I did for a season until it hit me that wasn’t who I was. It didn’t make me feel better or more accepted. I was still on the outside looking in. Added to that, I knew I was capable of expressing myself, for myself, in better ways.

All that aside, I’ve developed an appreciation for more compelling wordage whether in my real life or in my writing. I’m not into “shock” for empty shock value. I am into writing “action” scenes realistically with no apologies or trigger warnings. My B.A. and my secondary life passion is the study of Ancient through Medieval History. When I write hand-to-hand combat, while not overly graphic, it isn’t pretty or sanitized. My goal isn’t to gross my readers out; but to convey the very real urgency of that life-or-death encounter. To make my reader have a similar emotional rush to the one they’d have if they stumbled onto that encounter in real life.

While this train of thought isn’t complete, this post is long enough. I’ll pick it up again later. While I won’t promise another post tomorrow, I will write soon.

Until next time,

Calla