To All Those Who Feel Worthless Out There--You Are Not Alone!

This post is a long time coming, and I will do my best to be articulate, yet genuine.

For most of my life, I have felt like I was a mistake.  I just knew that God had not meant for me to exist.  You see, my parents didn't plan to have me.  Like many exploring young adults (like YA was a thing then) in the 70s, they married out of social convention after my mother got pregnant.  As often happens, it wasn't enough to sustain a marriage, and they divorced quickly after.

To be honest, I hadn't even thought through the idea that I might have been an accidental pregnancy until, at the age of thirteen, my step-father revealed this information to me.  I don't know if he wanted me to feel closer to him through this revelation, but there would be many like this over the years, and needless to say, the effects were often heated resentment toward him and a growing feeling of worthlessness in me.

The long-term consequences of our childhood epiphanies--good and bad--are often haunting and, in certain circumstances, devastating.  They can lead to addictions, dysfunctional adult relationships, and even settling for less than we deserve.  These are only a few of the ways those negative ideas from our past continue to shape a sometimes hopeless and sad future.  I know I've let those thoughts continue to make decisions for me.

That worthless feeling rears its ugly head in the way that I refuse a backrub from my husband because I don't feel like I deserve it more than anyone else, or the fact that I can't seem to ask for things I really, really want because I don't feel worthy to receive them.  Silly, I know.  It especially becomes sillier as I type it and tears form in my eyes.  Yet, the most dangerous way it shows up is in the way I deal with conflict.  I shrink like the most-baked shrinky-dink (there's a throw-back).  I give in almost every time because I don't feel worthy to state my reasoning.  In my mind, I immediately begin to justify why the other person is right and why I, clearly, am wrong--because I don't feel confident in my own mindset.

Now, the rational part of me (and, yes, there is one) tells me this is all negative thinking that I could easily overcome--if I would just make an effort.  But, instead, I choose to wallow in the self-loathing that feels like an itchy, yet familiar, wool blanket.

Then, today happened.  Now, this wasn't a complete cure, and it is something that has been building in the corners of my mind for some time now.  I listened, once more, to the Christmas story.  Not the "you'll shoot your eye out" Christmas Story, but the story of Jesus' birth from the Gospel of Luke.

Just to give a quick paraphrase, according to Luke, Jesus was born in something like a barn, among animals and in the hay and muck that made up such a place.  I have to wonder if Mary was irritated she had to give birth in such a place, but, like women are often expected to do, sucked it up and did what she had to do anyway.

To make things even more interesting, the first people the angels revealed the birth to were shepherds.  So what, right?  Why is that such a big deal?  It was a big deal because despite what we might believe about the benevolent job of a shepherd--the gentle souls who spent their time directing the sheep and keeping them safe--the profession was not highly regarded.  As a matter of fact, shepherds were usually the outcasts, not gentle souls at all.  They were the ones who couldn't find work doing anything else because they were often the degenerate youth.  They were not impressive in any sense of the word.  I'm just hazarding a guess here, but I would say there were times they felt pretty worthless.

Yet, the angels revealed the birth of the awaited Messiah to them first.  To the worthless--FIRST.

Why would God choose shepherds?  Why would He choose the worthless?  Why would he choose me?

"For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost." Luke 19:10

There it is. This is why He revealed Himself to shepherds first. It's why He chose the worthless. It's why He, much to my surprise, chose me. Accidental, mistake, worthless--me. And, it's why He, undoubtedly, chooses you.

This won't make the negative thoughts that ease their way into my conscious brain disappear. No, they still invade. I'm still a big, 'ol screw-up, and I mess things ups daily, including dealing with conflict, which leads to more negative thinking. That hasn't changed, and it won't any time soon. But, now, despite the fact that I still feel worthless, I know one thing is true. I have worth to the Creator of the universe. So much so, He revealed His birth to my kind first. To the worthless of society. I have an importance that is baffling--totally irrational--to the Savior, but it's beyond question now. It's right there in the story of His birth. It's throughout the New Testament. He came for me.

He came for you--no matter how worthless you feel. No matter how much you feel like a mistake, like an accident that should never have existed. He loves you anyway. He loves you with an extreme kind of love. He loves the broken, the worthless, the accidents of the world. These are the ones He came into this world to save. To Him, the last are first. You are first. You have great worth in His eyes, and nothing will ever change that.

In the Beginning...

I'm beginning a journey tonight.  For a long time, I've wanted to write inspirational non-fiction and fiction, but I've been so focused on other projects, I've let that goal slide.  No longer.  I've decided to create a series of writing prompts that begin with a Bible verse (or a few verses) and see where they take my writing (and maybe anyone else's who wants to play along).

So, to start things off, I thought I'd start at the beginning. I am using the English Standard Version of the Bible, and I'm pulling this particular set of verses from https://www.biblegateway.com/.

Genesis 1:1-2:3English Standard Version (ESV)The Creation of the World1 In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. 2 The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.3 And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4 And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness.5 God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.6 And God said, “Let there be an expanse[a] in the midst of the waters, and let it separate the waters from the waters.” 7 And God made[b] the expanse and separated the waters that were under the expanse from the waters that were above the expanse. And it was so. 8 And God called the expanse Heaven.[c] And there was evening and there was morning, the second day.9 And God said, “Let the waters under the heavens be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear.” And it was so. 10 God called the dry land Earth,[d] and the waters that were gathered together he called Seas. And God saw that it was good.11 And God said, “Let the earth sprout vegetation, plants[e] yielding seed, and fruit trees bearing fruit in which is their seed, each according to its kind, on the earth.” And it was so. 12 The earth brought forth vegetation, plants yielding seed according to their own kinds, and trees bearing fruit in which is their seed, each according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. 13 And there was evening and there was morning, the third day.14 And God said, “Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night. And let them be for signs and forseasons,[f] and for days and years, 15 and let them be lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light upon the earth.” And it was so.16 And God made the two great lights—the greater light to rule the day and the lesser light to rule the night—and the stars. 17 And God set them in the expanse of the heavens to give light on the earth, 18 to rule over the day and over the night, and to separate the light from the darkness. And God saw that it was good. 19 And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day.20 And God said, “Let the waters swarm with swarms of living creatures, and let birds[g] fly above the earth across the expanse of the heavens.”21 So God created the great sea creatures and every living creature that moves, with which the waters swarm, according to their kinds, and every winged bird according to its kind. And God saw that it was good.22 And God blessed them, saying, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the waters in the seas, and let birds multiply on the earth.” 23 And there was evening and there was morning, the fifth day.24 And God said, “Let the earth bring forth living creatures according to their kinds—livestock and creeping things and beasts of the earth according to their kinds.” And it was so. 25 And God made the beasts of the earth according to their kinds and the livestock according to their kinds, and everything that creeps on the ground according to its kind. And God saw that it was good.

#TISHS--Things I Should Have Said

Hindsight is 20/20.  This is what I should have said to the interviewer today.  Maybe I am a little "Pie in the Sky" optimistic and idealistic, but I'd rather be that than pessimistic and 'realistic.'  Without a little idealism, where would you get the vision to make the change you desire?

It's an extreme example, but for goodness' sake, without idealism, we'd still be hanging out in caves. So, maybe I didn't get the job, but if you're wondering how to enact change in your program, you have to start with a vision of what you want it to be.  And guess what?  That takes a little bit of idealistic thinking.

So, I wish you the best at finding exactly what you're looking for.

What Am I Missing?

So many things out there that I never knew existed.
A discovery makes it clear why someone first believed in reincarnation--There are just too many cool things out there to do and be for one lifetime. 

Thanks to the Ephemera Fest, I learned about the existence of "zines."  They are these artistic booklets of pictures and words, put together in thematic ways.  All I know is that, in this world, there was something I'd never experienced before, and it made me realize that I've become too domesticated in my little place in the spinning system.

I used to be a risk-taking, book-devouring, new-trying explorer and now my days consist of what I will eat and what part of the house I will clean.  It's enough to make a grown woman cry and cry and cry.

I want to laugh and learn.  I want to go places and do things--real things--that others are doing.  Maybe that's why I write.  I can live hundreds of lives through my writing.  Each time I begin a new book it is a version of reincarnation.

Maybe this time I'll get it write :)

But what am I missing?  Never stop learning is ingrained in me.  I couldn't stop even if I wanted to.  Yet, documentaries on TV aren't the same as living the experience.  How do I do it though?  I've got responsibilities and compromises to make.  How do I get out there and experience this life I've been given?  How do I make it matter?  I'm not necessarily talking about leaving a legacy.  How do I make my life fulfilling?

My grandmother knew hers was fulfilled because of the family she loved and the love she received in return.  Man, I really miss her.

Maybe I'm just hitting a crisis stage.  I didn't get the job.  So what?  So, now, if I want a position like it, I have to go out of my comfort zone and find some place else.  That's a good thing, right?  Then, why does it feel so wrong?

I think I stay in my comfortable world for fear--not of the unknown--but of the known.  There's an adjustment period with change, and I'm afraid this time won't be an easy switch.

The only thing missing is my courage.  Oh, and funds.  No funding for the wild, new, and crazy things either. :/

I guess it just gives me more time to write.

Don't Take Good Health for Granted

I've been very fortunate the past few years to receive good health reports from my many doctors. I've had several surgeries. Honestly, I never knew just how many times I could be poked in my right arm until the past couple of years.

I'm currently on about my sixth revision to my original Tram-flap surgery to make it more comfortable for me to show a little cleavage. I'm not talking about flirtation level. I just wanted to be able to wear more than a turtleneck for the rest of my life. I'm at that point and down to the final steps to finishing everything.

In the meantime, I've had to watch out for polyps on my uterine wall and fluid-filled cysts on my ovaries. Nevertheless, I'm blessed.  Yes, it's true. Perhaps not perfect, but my health is a priority to me. I have so much riding on it, and the past four and a half years have made that clear.

Go to those regular check-ups.  Perform those self-exams. And, of course, take the medicines and treatments seriously too.  Good health shouldn't be taken for granted. Others are counting on you to be here for them, even if they aren't saying it every day.

Stay healthy!

Little, Whispering Voice

There is no motivator like intense hopelessness, if you're naturally a hopeful person. 

Back in 2008, hubby and I decided to join a gym.  We went with one that was close by, had childcare, and gave us many options to get in shape.  Much as I would like to say we started our exercise regimen and stuck with it faithfully, the reality was we were often too tired to make it for a workout.

Yet, funny how things turn out because I was having one of the worst teaching years ever in my almost fifteen year career.  There are some groups of students you just don't click with, and this was one of two in my teaching career I dreaded working with daily.  Don't get me wrong, there were some amazing kids in this student group, but there were also some that delighted in causing as much mischief as they possibly could.

I was miserable, felt out of control and at the end of my rope.  So I began getting serious about something I could control--making time for the gym.  I'd heard at some point that exercise was an excellent stress reliever, and though I thought it was a long shot, I decided to give exercise a try.  At least two or three times a week, I would jump on the elliptical and do my best to push my stress out with the sweat.

As I got into a habit, I noticed I missed the activity if I didn't make it to the gym, and eventually, I was going four to five times a week.  My school year wasn't getting better unfortunately, but my anxiety level dropped.  The most beneficial part of adding an exercise routine started about six weeks into this major change in my life and continued for the next six months--I lost about twenty-five pounds.

It was awesome.  Everyone noticed--co-workers, family (especially hubby), and I noticed.

My stomach was getting flatter, my hips were getting narrower, and even my breasts were fitting in my bras and button-down shirts better.  I was excited to keep working toward my ideal weight.

Then, in September 2009, I was showering, and the thought popped into my head that I hadn't completed a self-exam on my breasts for years.  Yes, years.  It's easy just to go through your routine and think things will always be the way they've always been.  Why I thought to do a self-exam at that moment, I don't know.  I like to think it was an intervention from God.  I wasn't exaggerating when I said, I hadn't purposely examined my breasts for years, and though I'd been to my regular appointments, I hadn't since I'd begun to lose weight.

It was completely unexpected (I mean who really expects it?), but sure enough, I found a lump in my left breast.  Maybe it was because I'd lost so much weight that it was so noticeable to me now, but there it was--undeniably a golf ball size lump.

Two things about that time continue to make me wonder.  My weight-loss, though originally motivated by a tough day job, was probably the key to my being able to feel the lump, and the fact something greater than myself inspired me to find the lump.

Hard times might just be your wake-up call.  And, of course, listen to that little whispering voice.  It might just save your life.

More to come,

Sherry

It's About Time

To say it's been awhile since I last posted is an understatement and a half, but my goal was to begin writing about my recent experience with breast cancer, and honestly, I don't think I was really ready.

Truth be told, given a hundred years to process that time in my life, I don't think I would still be ready, but I'm forging ahead anyway with the hopes that someday, someone reads this and it gives them a little hope to hold on to.

Where to begin was a little tricky.  Sure, I could start with the day I first discovered a lump in my breast or I could talk about the day I was diagnosed, but to really understand the devastation of the experience I needed to begin much earlier.

I had just finished my first undergraduate year at Eastern Kentucky University and was excited to begin my second summer as a camp cook at Aldersgate United Methodist Church Camp.  The previous summer had been one I would never forget, and I expected nothing less of the upcoming one.  Boy, was that calling the spring grass green.  I met my future husband that summer, and eighteen years and three children later, he's still my unforgettable hero.

At the time though, we were young, felt immortal, and rushed headlong into a romance.  As we grew closer, he told me his mother had battled cancer five years earlier, but that she was doing fine now.  Unfortunately, that changed very quickly in the fall.  I met her once.  Actually sat down and had a conversation with her.  I remember she had short, dark hair, a kind face, and a powerful love for her family.

One month later, she passed.  The cancer returned with a vengeance and took her very quickly.  It was a sad time for all.  I was there to support my then boyfriend as he went through the visitation and funeral.  My heart broke for his father, sister and him as they grieved, and though I knew there was nothing I could say or do to make things better, I attempted to be there for my boyfriend.

Looking back, two things about that time stand out to me now.  One rainy evening about a month after her death, I was driving to a creative writing class and had a fender bender.  After the police and insurance reporting was over, I skipped my class and went to my boyfriend's house to wait for him to arrive.  While there, I called my mother and gave her a tearful explanation of what had happened, after which I sat with my now father-in-law and apologized for crying.  He gave me a slight smile and said, "That's okay.  I've cried a little myself today."  Perspective in a second.

Unfortunately, the other thing that I remember about this time is that my future husband and I broke up.  We decided not to see each other any more.  He was sad, very sad, and though I'd tried to be supportive, he needed time alone.  I, of course, understood, though my heart was devastated.

Believe it or not, a month later, we were together again, and I had no lingering doubts about the relationship.  We were meant to be together.  I still feel I could search the world over and never find anyone as perfect for me than him.  He has proven time and time again that love is a very real and powerful force, and I thank God He brought us together.

So, this is where I knew I had to start.  That time was a roller-coaster of emotion, but without this backstory, meaning about my personal struggle with breast cancer years later would be lost.

Until next time,

Sherry

Posting on Location

I'm posting at ACA this Monday about when life hands you lemons--write about it.  Come check it out.

Happy Writing!

http://www.cheriemarks.blogspot.com
http://www.cheriemarks.com
Into the Fire releasing October 5, 2011 from The Wild Rose Press

Things You Might Want to Know and Some Things You Probably Don't

I had the big C.  Whew!  Not a good time in my life.

Specifically, I had breast cancer, and my treatment consisted of a mastectomy, chemotherapy, radiation, and five years of Tamoxifen.

Now, I'm not going to lie.  I was strong.  I faced it all with my eyes on a future without cancer.  Not because I'm naturally a strong person (most definitely not true), not because I suddenly found strength, not even because I was completely confident I would make it through it all, but I was strong because I'm a wife to an amazing husband and mother to three children--the oldest of which is just now a teenager (although she acted like she achieved that age a whole lot earlier) and the youngest just finished kindergarten.

Plain and simple--there was no other option.

Now I'm a year cancer-free (I love saying that), and I thought it was time to begin living my faith that God would provide a cancer-free future for a long time to come.  So, I consulted a highly recommended plastic surgeon about breast reconstruction surgery.  After speaking with her extensively, I elected to undergo a Tram-Flap Reconstruction.

As usual, it hasn't been easy.  There have been complications, so over the next few blog posts, I'm going to use this space to explain my decisions, the process, the complications, and maybe answer some questions for anyone out there trying to make decisions of their own or those that are just curious.

This is what is swirling around in my mind right now, so I'm going to use this space to get those thoughts, fears, and musings out.  Maybe then I'll free up some space in the old noggin for some lighter topics.

Until then...

Happy Writing!

Complications

Still kicking after all these complications, except I'm dealing with medical issues again. Three weeks ago, I elected to have a breast reconstruction surgery. It was supposed to be the happy ending to my breast cancer story. Everything seemed to be going well, until it swelled. That went down eventually, but then it began to get infected. So that's where I am now--another complication. And all along the way, little complications keep coming. But what can I do? People tell me I'm strong, that I'm a trouper who has gone through so much, but the truth is, there is no other option. I have to keep praying, hoping, and trying until things work out. And they will. That's where my strength truly comes in. I don't let myself think of any other option than things working out.

I can't help relating my medical struggle to the ultimate goal of being published in book-length fiction. You see, I take chances, write a piece in which I have confidence, then put it out in front of others to see the reactions. Along the way, there are complications--big and small--and my ability to push through the blocks, the lack of time, the unfortunate medical issues, the plot bunnies, or whatever happens to get in the way of the story is what will ultimately lead to success. Regardless of all these possible problems, I don't let any other option other than pushing through and getting published even become a possibility.

Complications are going to happen, but they're merely bumps in the road. Never full stops.

Happy Writing!

The Bumpy Road to Love

I write romance, so even from the first word, I know my hero and heroine are going to fall in love, have a happy ending, and forsake all others forever more.  But to get there, I have to really make it worth it.  Torturing is the name of the game.

Probably the first thing I had to learn was that in order to make it worth it, I had to make my heroes and heroines likable.  That way, no one could doubt they deserved a happily ever after.  I struggled with creating an Alpha male without making him unlikable.  My first attempt didn't work.  I kept getting feedback that he wasn't likable at all.  Not good.  I figured out that even if my hero had a hard edge, he had to have a deep, dark reason that matters to the reader.  In other words, he had to have some internal conflict from the get-go.  With my stories since then, up-front characterization has been key to creating people I like and people readers like as well.

Once this important component is put in place, it's time to provide external conflict.  Time to make their lives miserable.  In order to do that well, I have to establish what the character really, really wants, and what would be the worst thing that could happen instead.  It can't be so horrible that it can't be overcome (no maiming, if possible), but it needs to be something that creates a bumpy road for the character.

In the end, the characters need to overcome all external and internal conflict and come together.  Their goals are either met or changed until they can be met to make everyone happy in the end--to make all the torture worth it.

My own path to love wasn't/isn't smooth, and although fiction can surely take leaps that reality doesn't, real life can give you ideas for possible conflicts in your stories.  I love to listen to other peoples' stories about falling in love, but I'll admit that I often use tidbits here and there (so be forewarned, friends, aquaintances, and strangers).

At any rate, as a romance writer, I have to make the happily ever after worth it, and that means creating a bumpy road to love.

Happy Writing!

How Do You Know?

How do you know when you're good enough?  When your voice is distinctive?  When you have an original plot or a new twist on an old one?  When people other than your mom, sister, spouse, or best friend like what you write?  Honestly, I don't have a clear-cut answer.

Some days I read what I write and think it's good stuff.  Other days, I'm sure I'm deluding myself.  Clearly, I'm not the go-to-girl to judge good enough.

Is a contract a validation?  For most, yes.  But there's always a bigger, better publisher to net.  Maybe it's the number of contracts that counts.  If that's true, the more prolific, the more successful, right?

Then there's the indie authors.  I know indie authors who are some of the most successful writers I've seen.  How do they know they're good enough?  Number of downloads?  Money earned?  Number of POD books sold?

The reality is there's no such thing as good enough.  Craft and skill only get you so far.  In my very humble opinion, you're good enough when you're brave enough to put yourself out there, whether it's to a crit partner or an actual submission.  Every step brings you closer to your goal, and if you get a publisher's nod or not, you're working toward your dream, and that's good enough for me.

Happy Writing!

Contests

Well, I went back into the contest arena, but this time, I went as a judge--again.  I feel a little more confident than the first time I judged, but it's still difficult to try to give constructive criticism without stepping on someone's dreams.  If I could, I would tell the writers who were brave enough to enter to never give up, no matter where they are in the writing journey.  Even if they don't final this time around, they're one step closer just by getting some feedback from people who aren't friends or family.  But, instead, I give them as many positive comments as I can, mixed with some constructive criticisms that I hope are helpful and not hurtful.

Anyway, I'll do my best to encourage these brave writers to continue to create.

Happy Writing!

Not the Best of Times Lately

I am so locking all my windows and doors and staying home for at least a day to try my best to hunker down until my luck changes.  Things have not been great this week.

I learned last month that due to my history with cancer, I would need to have a colonoscopy to investigate some concerns.  I wasn't looking forward to it, to say the least, but when the time came I ate my clear, liquid diet and drank the horrible colon scrubber they gave me and followed it all to a T.

The morning came and all was going well as my husband drove me to the office where the procedure would take place.  Out of nowhere, a barely-more-than-a-kid plowed into the back of our car when traffic stopped.  We careened into the car in front of us, but thankfully no one needed medical attention.  I was sore for a few days, but overall I'm thankful it wasn't worse.  Needless to say, I was late for the colonoscopy.  We still went through with the procedure because I was not going through that prep again, and the doctor found that everything inside was as it should be.  Yay, for another clean bill of health.

I was happy that my hubs got a chance to hang with the guys on a four day golf trip two states away starting the next day, but I had no idea just how jinxed I was going to be this week.

I thought my bad luck was over and ventured forth to play a little tennis with my minions...er...children.  It was their first time, but I played a little in college, so I was the on-site expert, much to their misfortune.

The kids did wonderfully for their first time playing.  They had a good time and might have learned a little too.  Toward the end, the teen kiddo and I were volleying just a few more when I chased a wild one until I lost my balance, regained it, then lost it again.  Heads don't mix well with concrete.  Next thing I knew, I was on the ground, my head was hurting and my legs were numb.  Scary, scary, freakin' scary.  Fortunately, my teen jumped into quick action and grabbed her phone out of the nearby car.  She desperately wanted to call 911, but I desperately didn't want to pay for an ambulance, so I opted for my sister instead.

She was there within twenty minutes, and we rushed off to the hospital.  By this time, I was feeling dizzy and nauseous, but my legs were no longer numb, so I could slack off of the panic button a little.  One examination and CT scan later, the doctor decided it was a concussion, but there was no internal bleeding in my brain, so I could go home.

Now, my hubby is on his way home.  It was the final day of his trip, so he didn't have to cut it short for me.  And I'm feeling happy things are not as bad as they could have been.

One bit of amazing news that helped brighten the whole situation:  I finally took my comprehensive exam for school counseling.  It was tough, but in about two to four weeks, I'll know my score.  Cross your fingers and your toes, my long, long journey to becoming a school counselor is finally over.

Hope your luck has been better than mine lately.

Happy Writing!

It's About Time

It's about time to break forth with the rhythm and the rhyme...

Just kidding.  It is about time for a break though.  I have had a very busy year, and I have a feeling there will be more, not less, to come, so this summer, I need to make sure I take a break from the day job as much as possible.  The school year winds down this week (with a few extra days next week for professional development), and I am ready.  I have so much writing to do, and I have every intention of getting it done.  I have a novella that is plotted and well on its way, but I need to devote time and energy to it.  I also have another one that will write itself if I can ever get back to it.  It is an awesome story with great characters I'm so in love with.  Plus, I have a flash fiction story spinning around in my brain.

So, how can I do all of this in about eight weeks?  Writing time, every day.  I will be rising and shining each morning to get in a good three hours of writing time each day.  Coffee will get me through the tough times, and when I have accomplished all I want to this summer, I'll pat myself and know it was all worth it.  Just have to actually get to summer days.
Needless to say, I need room to move.  (I am so channeling the 80's/90's right now).  So, here's to the end of another school year and (cross fingers) the beginning of a fruitful summer.

Happy Writing!

Self-Pubbing

Saturday was an interesting day.  It was one of the best feelings to be surrounded by writing people.  They so know where I'm coming from without question, and I love that.  Being able to talk story people and the romance genre makes my day.  Some wonderful new writers joined us--Tina Michelle, who is a fount of paranormal knowledge.  Check her out at http://www.tinamichelle.com.  And we also met Kallypso Masters, who has the friendliest smile.

The meeting went off without a hitch thanks to our fearless leader-- JM Madden, who you can find at http://www.jmmadden.com.

Then the good vibe continued when Donna McDonald shared her experience with something I've been highly interested in lately--self-publishing.  She has ventured forth into the world of self-publishing and is doing very well.  She has three self-published titles released right now-- http://www.amazon.com/Donna-McDonald/e/B001K8PW86/ref=sr_tc_img_2?qid=1306281387&sr=1-2-ent  Her website is http://www.donnamcdonaldauthor.com

I've downloaded the first of her "Never too late" series, titled Dating a Cougar, and although I've yet to begin reading it, I can tell you that many are enthusiastic about it.

She explained to us the success she's had, and without giving details--yes, it's worth looking into.  But I'm not rushing into anything just yet.  First of all, I don't have anything I would consider ready to publish currently.  Second of all, I'm into promoting my soon-to-be-released story from TWRP.  Third, there are some upfront costs (editing, cover, etc.) that I'm not quite ready for.  Four, as I've said before on this blog, I'm a muller, and I've got some mulling over to do.

Like I said, I've been researching this old publishing phenomenon made new.  You see, I know that self-pubbing has been stigmatized for years, but that was when you needed trad. pub houses for editing, artwork, and distribution, and when you sunk money into it that you never got back.  Now, neither trad. houses nor excessive upfront money is necessary.  And everyone knows that with the popularity of e-readers, publishing is changing--like Middle Ages to Renaissance, possibly (too big?  Naaah).

Of course, there are other names to research if you are interested in self-pubbing.  One of the biggest self-pubbers right now used to be totally against self-publishing before he realized how much money he was losing by not going there.  Of course, I'm talking about J. A. Konrath.  If you are interested in reading about his experience, he has been really candid about his process-- http://jakonrath.blogspot.com/

What are your current thoughts about the changes in publishing?  Is self-publishing the way to go?

Happy Writing!

Bossypants by Tina Fey

I just finished Bossypants, by Tina Fey, and it is a real treat.  Huzzah!  Tina Fey, huzzah!

Seriously, this is a great, laugh-out-loud read that I hope to pass on to many of my friends and family. 

Around Easter, hubby and I were in the Target on the other side of town, and though we decided it wasn't as good a Target as the one on our side of town, we were still buying too much, as is the current duty of all Americans.  As we perused the DVD's which just so happened to be next to my favorite section--the books, I pointed out the hilarious cover of Tina Fey's book.  On the cover, she is looking demure and beautiful from the neck up, and from the neck down, she is a man.  Not just any man, she is a large, hairy-armed, watch-wearing, sausage-fingered man.  And it is hi-larious (emphasis on the Hi).  Next thing I know, it's Mother's Day, and I own the book.

She covers topics such as growing up with her Greek mother and German father, her start in Chicago with Second City, her move to Saturday Night Live and then to 30 Rock, and of course, her personal life journey through marriage and having a baby (possibly babies).  Needless to say, I loved every minute of it, and often laughed out loud (literally) around strangers until they felt compelled to ask, "Is that a good book?"  Duh!  Just kidding, strangers.  I didn't think it was a stupid question at all.  There are no such thing as stupid questions (my training as an educator forced me to say this last part).

Weird thing was though, I decided I was Tina Fey.  Not in a psycho, identity crisis kind of way.  More like an I can totally relate to her life kind of way.  She's so down-to-earth, and despite the being a celebrity and all, accessible in a regular way.  My point is:  You should read this book.  Borrow it, check it out of the library, download it at Barnes and Noble (I guess you can for free with the Nook, three chapters at a time), or break down and buy it.  It will totally be worth it.

Happy Writing (and Reading)!

A Feeling of Fear

I have a fear of success.  I wasn't aware of this fear until I had to send copyedits back to my editor.  Maybe it was when she mentioned that this was my last chance to make my story look like I want it to when published.

DANG!  That's pressure.  I mean, this is it.  I'm sending my baby out into the world, and I'm nervous about the reception.  Hubby said, "All you can do is your best, and you know some people still aren't going to like it."  How very...me, of him.  It's something I would say to him, and you know what?  It might be true, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.  (Note to self:  revisit my motivational speeches.  I think some just serve to piss people off rather than pep them up).

Anyway, although I sent the copyedits back, my fear still lingers.  What if I really do suck, and they just needed a warm body and that's why they said yes?  What if it was a fluke, and I can never do it again?  What if I spend waaaay too much time worrying about things I have no control over?  Okay, that last one's true, and I know it.  What I don't know is if this fear will ever go away, no matter how many copyedits I get lucky enough to make it to.

At any rate, all I know is, even with that crazy fear twisting around inside me, I did still send those copyedits back.  I guess the one good thing to come out of this is even though I'm afraid, I can and do face my fears--good outcome or bad (fingers crossed it's good, only good ;0))

Happy Writing!

Perspective

So many times I am reminded just how blessed I truly am.  Today was one of those days.

I had a great check-up with my oncologist today.  Everything looked great.  However, while waiting for my appointment (bloodwork an hour before, then wait), an older gentlemen struck up a conversation.  He was there for a follow-up from his first chemo treatment.

At first he was shocked that I had gone through cancer treatment.  Then he was excited to see me this far removed from my treatment and looking well.  He told the CPN later that it had given him hope.

The whole conversation was very uplifting.  He'd lost so much already--his voice had changed, his speech was slightly slurred, but we laughed and talked like friends rather than patients waiting for our turn.  As the conversation continued, he mentioned he didn't have any family.  Ironically, the event that started our interaction was a large family going back with a patient.  Nothing like a little perspective to remind you how blessed you really are.  I don't know how I would have coped without my very supportive family while I was going through everything last year and the year before.

We finished our talk on a positive note.  He asked how I'd kept busy during the time when I was sick.  I explained that I wrote a novel.  One that will never see the light of day, but it was something that kept me busy, focused, and made my time feel worthwhile.  I told him that even if what I was writing wasn't the best stuff, I kept on writing, and I'm proud of that time and what came out of it.

Unfortunately, I got called back to see the doctor, and when I came out, he was gone, and I don't even know his name.  But it got me thinking.  I now have a school counseling degree, but with 12 more credit hours, I will be able to take a licensure test to become a certified mental health counselor.  If I make it that far, it wouldn't be a bad thing to be there for those who don't have anyone else.  Most cancer centers have social workers now, but I don't know if they have any links to mental health counselors.  That would be something to work toward.  It would be a way for me to give back for all my many blessings.

Happy Writing!

Celebrate Good Times, Come On!

This crazy roller coaster I've been riding lately is crazy climbing again.  I finally completed my very long, very time-consuming school counseling internship, and I got my very first copy edits yesterday.  Good news all around.

Listening and making people feel better is one of my strengths, so a few (100) years ago, I began working toward a Master's degree in school counseling.  Today, I completed that very long process.  My stress isn't over yet though.  I have to pass a comprehensive exam and graduate officially, but it's going to happen, and I never thought I'd make it to this point, so I'm *happy dancing* all over the place.

Furthermore, I opened my e-mail yesterday, and my editor had sent copy edits my way.  Well, let me tell you, I had heard the copy edit version looks more like the published product, and it was so true.  For the first time ever, I saw the title page of my story--the copyright page of my story.  I was giddy with excitement, and I can't wait for the next and the next and the next step in this amazing process.

Now, time to write and write and write on my current WIP.  I should have more time to devote to it--in an ideal world, and all that.

What's your good news?

Happy Writing!