Silk & Shadows

Currently working on: Hot draft of new story
Mood: Borne & buffeted

Sometime in January, I like to pull my Tarot cards for a start-of-the-year spread, to see where I’m at. This year, so far, I’ve been too busy to take a quiet night to get into the right space to think about things. But with the month almost over (and how did THAT happen?!) I figured I better get at least ONE card done so I’d have something to contemplate on my dog walks.

I pulled the Page of Swords. I use the Mythic Tarot deck by Juliet Sharman-Burke and Liz Greene, illustrated by Tricia Newell. This deck features Greek mythology which I loved as a kid, so I relate to the stories.

The Page of the Swords is represented by Zephyrus, the Greek god of the West Wind. His card is ambivalent — as the Swords tend to be cards that poke at your complacency — since he and his brother the North Wind started out as malicious little shits, prone to starting storms just to knock things over. Eventually Zephyrus married Isis of the rainbow, which mellowed him out. But still, having him start my year gives me lots to think about.

The positive aspects of Zephyrus as the Page of Swords are curiosity, enthusiasm and the emergency of new ideas. The downsides are irritability and petty quarrels that blow up into battles. As I move forward with some new story ideas, I guess I better practice my patience. That’s usually on my list of New Years Resolutions, so I suppose that’s okay. Sigh.

I like this picture of Zephyrus because he is puffing up all these great clouds leading into a blue sky… but the way he is holding the sword makes me think he is about to burst his own bubble. He had better be careful which bubbles he bursts, since some of them are holding him aloft. I better make sure I’m puffing up the right dreams. Not there’s anything wrong with walking sometimes. Ask my dog.

If you play with tarot cards, did you get any thoughtful readings for the new year? Or if you want me to pull a card for you, just let me know in comments and I’ll see which Greek myth might be right for you.

Currently working on: Getting back in the groove
Mood: Groovy

I can’t find my New Years Resolutions from 2011. I know I wrote them down because goal-setting gurus tell us we’re supposed to write that stuff down so I’m sure I did. Somewhere. Somewhere veeeery safe and special so I wouldn’t lose the list, so I could review it and see how I did.

Looking back at my Silk & Shadows posts from early in 2011 I see several references to cleaning my closets and exercising more. Uh… Yeah, anyway, moving on to 2012.

What with the world ending on December 21, 2012, though, I’m not sure I should bother with a new list. According to some eschatological* interpretations of Mayan prophecies, the world ends with the end of one of their calendar cycles on 12/21/12. I know I often feel apocalyptic when Christmas is rolling around, but actually ending the world seems a little melodramatic. The calendar cycle in question marks 5,125 years — give or take a few holidays — which is about how long it would really take me to clean my closets.

Still, I think I’m going to discount the December 21 end of days. Mostly because the people who predict apocalypses always seem a little sad and angry. And perverse. Like they are DISAPPOINTED when the world doesn’t end. Jerks.

Here are some of the comebacks I’ll be using for the post-apoc-ers who will be running rampant this year:

• Let me introduce you to a friend of mine. His name is Y2K. Perhaps you’ve met.
• Then can I have your dessert?
• I wanted to have three funny comebacks, but I only have two. That’s okay, though. It’s not like it’s the end of the world.

And fine, I guess I’ll put closet cleaning and exercising back on my list for 2012

Do you have perennial resolutions? If so, how do you keep them fresh and interesting?

Also, congrats to last week’s winner of the DARKNESS UNDONE
Advanced Reading Copy, courtesy of Random.org, Kate!

* Eschatology is the study of end times. What? You didn’t know there was a word for it? Neither did I. Never stop learning.

Currently working on: Christmas
Mood: Deck the freakin’ halls

Every single year, Christmas comes around*, and every single year I am shocked. Already?! Seriously? This year is no exception, although I did have the added bonus of turning my work calendar from November to December and being greeted by a 12×12 glossy of a tropical beach at sunset. The lounge chair was empty and calling my name. Thanks, calendar, I needed that little dig.

Every year, I tell myself, “Next year I’ll start earlier.” And every year… “Already?! Seriously?”

Because here’s my dilemma, and I’m sure you all face it too. My choices are:

#1. Sacrifice time earlier to do my holiday tasks. Take my sweet time to do the tasks well and without undue stress.

Or, #2. Hoard my earlier time, let the clock tick down, then do massive freak-out and get holiday tasks done as quickly as possible despite the need for late nights, cursing, and excessive chocolate consumption — because, please, who are we kidding, the last item — and probably the first two too — was going to happen anyway.

Is it my imagination, or does #2 just make more sense?

It all gets done, but in scenario #2, it gets done faster. I think this is why I DON’T get started earlier. I’ve seen what I do to any opening: I expand to fill available space. If I started in September, I’d be obsessed with finding “the right thing.” Instead, in mid-December, I say “Is that the thing? Right” and we’re good to go.

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’d be happier (and more in tune with the alleged seasonal moods of peace, love and joy) if I didn’t indulge the freak out. But I’m not even sure I’d know how to start.

Probably with chocolate.

How do you handle the holiday rush? Or are you an expert at the hush? Please share! Anyway, I’m giving us all a Gold Star for trying.

*Apologies — or maybe congratulations — to those who don’t do Christmas. Happy Hanukkah, Merry Kwanzaa, Blessed Solstice, and many butter cookies to you all!

Currently working on: Enjoying being done (again) with revisions on sci fi rom novella
Mood: Self-congratulatory

Every once and awhile I get contemplative. It usually happens when I’m between deadlines, which is yet another reason why deadlines are good things. I also have a mean self-help streak which I try not to indulge too often because I don’t think it’s helpful, to myself or anybody else. I’m sorry to say these two bad habits have come together in a brutal session of navel gazing lately.

Why do I write?

I’ve been asking myself this ever since I attended a writing workshop years ago where the presenter told us to answer this question and I had to cheat off the writers next to me. And then, only a few days later, I read a writing craft book that demanded an answer to the question too, and I decided the universe was making fun of me and even the answers I stole weren’t good enough.

When forced into a corner, my usual answers to the “Why do I write?” question are:

• Money and fame
• Casual dress code
• Free books (cuz I write ‘em myself)

You see why I’m not exactly winning self-help prizes with these answers.

But recently, in the midst of wrestling with this question once again (I don’t even know why it’s important! I just remember that the workshop and the book both talked about it so it must be important) I was listening to some self-help podcasts (somebody stop me!) and heard the question posited a slightly different way. Instead of asking “Why do you _____?” the question was this:

“What do you get out of doing ______ that reinforces the desire to continue?”

Yes, yes, I realize this is just a slightly warmer, fuzzier wording of operant conditioning, but I’m going with it for a moment.

What do I get out of writing? What is it about writing that fulfills something in me?

And after mulling it over on a  few dog walks, I decided that, for me, it’s about creating something out of nothing. There’s something amazing about taking words that have no measurable atomic density, no visible wavelength, no smell even, and creating…whatever — and by amaze, I mean “a maze” where there is a sense of mystery and discovery and adventure and even the danger of getting lost. Storytelling requires nothing but an idea, really, and from there you build a world that goes on to live in other people’s minds.

Which I guess is a slightly warmer, fuzzier way of saying: “Why do I write?”

• Delusions of godlinghood

Still, I like the idea of the question “What do I get out of doing ______?” I’ve been applying it to my characters, my unsuspecting friends with questionable love lives, my snack choices, my moments of procrastination, vacuuming.

Is this helping my writing in any way? Not that I’ve noticed, to be honest. Although I have discovered I’m not particularly fulfilled by a clean house and I don’t even need a deadline to justify the impromptu dog-hair carpet under my desk.

I knew this contemplative self-helping wasn’t good for me. Do you have a force you know motivates you, for good or ill? Do you try to encourage or fight it? Have you had any luck?

Currently working on: Revisions
Mood: Persnickety

I’ve been in a funny place recently. Not just a place-place as I mentioned in last Monday’s travelogue, but in my writing. I’ve been all over the map — literally and metaphorically — and it is time I settled down to ONE thing.

This is a good time of year (in this part of the world anyway) to settle to a project. The weather is closing in. School has started and focused energy is all around. Even my garden reflects the need to pick. It’s harvest time!

But how do I pick my next project?

1. Flip a coin.

I’m not being flip when I say this. I find that flipping a coin helps me refine my preferences. If I flip and the answer comes up that I want, sweet. If the coin says I should choose some other thing… well, suddenly I realize that thing isn’t the thing I wanted. So I switch. After all, I don’t have to abide by the decisions of a coin.

2. Try a few things on for size.

Like new school clothes, the right story need to fit me this year; not have too many holes; and reflect the writer I’m trying to become. And if it is purple and sparkly, that’d be cool too.

3. Ask my sounding board.

Sometimes I can’t decide. But when I talk out my options with someone else, often I start talking myself into a choice, even if my listener never gets a chance to speak. (That happens around me occasionally.) Even if I can’t hear an answer coming into focus, the other person will no doubt have an opinion (other people always do). I guess this technique is very similar to the first technique except most people don’t appreciate being flipped.

If you haven’t read Malcolm Gladwell’s BLINK, I highly recommend it. He talks a lot about the power of instinct in decision making. Then you can read THINK by Michael R. LeGault, who prefers a more rationed approach. They provide some interesting points/counterpoints. Do you have favorite ways of making choices?

Note: Speaking of picking, we’ll be pulling a giveaway winner from our newsletter subscribers soon.
If you haven’t signed up yet, use the link at left.

Currently working on: Judging the 2011 Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal Romance Writers Prism awards
Mood: Full of words

I have a friend who is quitting. She is not a writer, but her path has been similar: trying to create something out of nothing, trying to find an audience for her something, keeping herself fed and housed while trying to find an audience, etc.

A couple of weeks ago, she announced she was — quite literally — packing up, taking her ball, and going home. I said something along the lines of “You go, girl!” because I think there comes a time when chirpy encouragement becomes cruelty, and I think she’d reached that point.

They say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over in the expectation of different results. Annoyingly, that is also the definition of mastery.

We talked a little about knowing when it is time to quit. (I know the word ‘quit’ sounds harsh, but I’m not sure there’s any point softening it. Give in. Give up. Give out. Whatever you want to say, it’s about no longer doing the thing you’ve been trying to do. Quitting.) Interestingly, although she has always had an obvious escape route, she says she never thought about it until one day it suddenly hit her; she had another option, she didn’t have to keep banging her head against a wall. She could quit. She said she sat with the idea a couple days, mulling it over, and it became ever more clear to her she should quit.

There’s a saying among writers: “Do you know what they call a writer who didn’t quit? Author.” I hate this saying. It implies by not quitting you will get what you want when we all know there’s no such guarantee. But what is guaranteed is that if you do quit you won’t make it.

I talked with XY about quitting too. In his art, he has a couple times made drastic changes that while not exactly quitting were almost as extreme in their consequences. He said, when the moment came, he always knew in his heart that the change had to be made.

Here is my dirty little secret: I am a romance writer, but I have trouble trusting my own heart. (Maybe that’s WHY I am a romance writer.) I have just enough engineer blood to want diagrams and checklists and spreadsheets of the heart’s decisions. So here are the enumerated reasons I came up with — not for knowing when to quit, because I’m still not sure I know when that is right, but for explaining why I haven’t:

1. It would hurt more to quit than to continue.

One of the first writers I met when I had started writing “seriously” quit shortly thereafter. She had had several hemorrhoid operations and sitting down to write was too painful and potentially damaging. For me, that was a good metaphor for knowing when to quit.

2. I haven’t exhausted all my options.

I’m still learning, still getting better, still excited by what I’m doing. That’s a forward momentum of its own.

3. There’s nothing else I want more.

Maybe that’s not exactly a noble sentiment, but it’s true. As much as I whine about writing, it’s what I do, it’s what I’ve always done, and I can’t imagine not wanting to do it, even when it’s terrible.

4. I am stubborn.

My saving grace. When all else fails me, the stubbornness remains.

5. My heart says write.

As I tally my reasons, I guess that starts to sound like the little inner voice of the heart that says “Onward.”

I think there can be wisdom and relief in quitting, as well as the potential for greater satisfaction elsewhere. And quitting doesn’t have to be permanent. I often quit is disgust around chapter 7 and don’t start again until chapter 8. I wish my friend well in her next endeavor and hope she finds the success she wants.

Meanwhile, onward.

Have you ever had to trust your heart over your head? How did it work out? How did you KNOW you were right?

I’ve done pretty well with the things I’ve set out to do recently. I cleaned out that closet from last fall, attended the Michael Hauge workshop (great!), kept to my budget (even through Christmas!), and finished the galleys for Surrender. You knew that last one was true, because the book is on the shelves now.

This year I’ve got a bunch of new ‘projects’: lose some weight, read more books, and cook more real food (versus things from a box). So far, so good. In fact, I made my first batch of homemade hummus yesterday. Yeah, I know it’s easy, but you don’t leap from take-out to cordon bleu in one day.

When I outline my projects in general form, they look pretty undemanding, don’t they? And the truth is, if I left them that way, I could make even the teensiest step in the right direction and label myself a success. But that wouldn’t be true to my goals…or myself. So, I’ve made them measurable. I’ve given them criteria for success, including dates. After my reluctance to make plans at the start of the year, this is a big deal for me. But vital to getting where I want to go.

My weight goal is to lose a total of 13 pounds between January 1 and March 31st. That’s a pound a week, which should be achievable. I’m sticking to the plan, and at the moment I’m on target to make that goal.

My read-more-books goal I quantified as fifty books in 2011. I used to read far more than that, but with my own writing a priority, my reading has fallen off. Fifty books in a year is 4.2 books a month. Doable, right? I think so. I burned my way through 4 books in January, including a whopper of 1024 pages. It was an epic fantasy. To keep myself honest, I’m writing down the names of each book I read this year and the month I read them.

Cooking more real meals is the hardest of my goals. Lately, I’ve been noticing the high levels of sodium in all the prepackaged food I eat, and I’d like to reduce it. My objective is to be cooking at least five meals per week from scratch, by July 1st. Today, my spaghetti sauce comes from Ragu and my soups come from Campbells. I may need to take some courses to reach my goal, but I’m determined to do it.

Did you set a goal or two for 2011? It doesn’t have to be something onerous. Maybe something like taking a real vacation, or calling your mom more often. Got any secrets for making them happen?

Currently working on: Butter cookies
Mood: Pressed (because now I have a cookie press to make butter cookies — hey, why didn’t I use the cookie press as my blog post last week on favorite kitchen implements?)

Well, 2011 is 1/12 over. How’re you doing? I haven’t been so good about cleaning my closets — and evil XY actually put some of his stuff in one of my closets, which means I have negative goal success on that front. On the plus side, I’ve been fairly consistent with my workouts, which is why I indulged this weekend with butter cookies. Indulged in moderation (does that even make sense?) of course since butter cookies have a way of going from plus side to plus size.

Checking in on the progress of my projects is something I often forget to do until the next time New Year’s resolutions roll around. I like setting goals and I like reaching goals, but doing the work between… Yeah, that’s the tricky part.

So I want to rant for a moment on goal setting philosophy.

See, self-help gurus tell us we should set SMART goals, where SMART stands for Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Realistic and Timely. Which is indeed smart, as well as lovely, balanced, popular, and perfect — all the things I DESPISE in a romance heroine. Because it’s completely NOT THE TRUTH. Oh sure, maybe there is some girl/goal out there who meets all those criteria, but more likely she/it is hiding some deep, dark, delusional secret. In the case of the romance heroine, I’ll like her better when I discover she has a secret she never wanted to deal with but is forced to confront during the course of the story. In the case of the goal, the secret is… Often in real life, we don’t get to pick our goals.

Seems to me, many a goal in real life is an I-SMACK goal. As in “I get smacked” by an Imposed, Sudden, Monopolistic, Aggressive, Chaotic, and Killer goal.

I’m being a little unfairly grumbly because the aforementioned self-help gurus do offer some advice that can still be applied to I-SMACK goals.

Break it down: What are the baby steps that compose this overwhelming I-SMACK goal?

Back it out: What’s my drop-deadline and when do those baby steps need to be overcome to get there?

Buckle down: How much caffeine do I require to make this happen? (Well, actually the gurus don’t say quite this, but I think it’s what they meant.)

Worse, my secret — which is not very deep or dark or delusional — is that I don’t care that much about cluttered closets and I’m never going to be able to benchpress my body weight. SMART goals forget to include the element of desire. And as any attentive romance reader knows, without the desire, this story ain’t happening.

I-SMACK goals at least have the element of onrushing doom to stimulate the desire to live. But it IS desire.

In looking at some of my goals again, I’m wondering, Do I really want this? WHY do I really want this? If I can’t answer — or if I answer, I don’t — maybe I need to change my goals.

Because as young Skywalker discovered, if the answer is “Do not,” the universe falls to evil. So… I’ll DO. And reward myself with a butter cookie.

Out of curiosity, how do you reward yourself for a goal met or a job well done?

Currently working on: 100 things at once
Mood: Scattered

When writers learn about creating characters, one of the first techniques we’re taught is to assign each character a story goal, something the character desperately wants and must pursue through the course of the story. Since many of us use the start of the new year to assign ourselves some resolutions, I think we can all relate.

Next, writers are told to figure out why the character wants to reach the story goal. What is the character’s motivation?

This is where I, as the (ostensibly) lead character in my own life, get a little murky.

Why do I write?

If I do one thing this year, I want to figure out the answer to that question. See, this year is a turning point (my fellow writers will recognize that term too, and probably wince) in my writing life, and it’s time I clarified my motivation.

Why is motivation important to characters? In a story, strong motivation keeps the poor, beleaguered character on task no matter what rocks we mean writers throw at them. Wimpy motivation lets the character off the hook and he slinks home to his easy chair, never to adventure again. Booooring!

In real life… Well, in real life, I secretly do want the easy chair with a fuzzy blanket and fuzzier socks, BUT I know that strong motivation is really what will keep me reaching for my goals.

“People often say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing — that’s why we recommend it daily.”
– Zig Ziglar

More than a year ago, I attended a writing workshop where the speaker asked us to determine our own personal reason for writing. Other than fame and fortune. (Cue laugh track.) Everyone diligently bent their heads to their papers and scratched away. I cheated off the writer next to me.

Because I’m not sure of my motivation. I asked other writers afterward what they wrote. They had great answers:

• I write for free therapy.
• I write because I have to write.
• I write so I don’t have to get a job where I wear pants.
• I write to get the strange voices out of my head. (See reason #1.)
• I write because I love to write.

Great as these answers are, they don’t really resonate with me. (Although I’d like to not need a job where I have to wear pants.) So I never answered the question for myself, never found the motivation that rings me like a bell. But this year, I think I’m going to be forced to figure it out.

I hope it’s a good answer.

So do you have parts of your life you don’t look at too closely? Are you happier that way, or do you want to explore those hidden depths? How many people do you think get eaten by the dragons in their hidden depths?