That line is dead and I’m not on it

WHELLLLP, it’s August 24 and I’m still only three quarters of the way through the first draft of the book that was supposed to be on sale right now so… that didn’t work out. I mean, giving yourself deadlines is good, right? But there’s that whole REALITY thing out there where you gotta figure out money and kids and surviving a pandemic in a city where you witnessed not one, not two, not three or four but more than a handful of maskless outdoor parties in public spaces.

My kids are not only bored–and I’m running out of ideas, ya’ll–but getting feisty and malcontented and … physically aggressive. So my main focus–again, other than getting enough money to buy groceries–has been tamping down on those biting, scratching, carrying on like an actual animal behaviors.

How do you write for fun when the world is falling apart? How do you write a feel-good fluffy luv story when your feral child is quite literally biting your leg?

Props to the people who are getting it done. But I am not among you.

I’m not giving up. Just… accepting reality. Again.

False advertising.

Is Writer’s Memory Block a Thing?

I’m more than three quarters through my latest WIP and I just want to be done. Like just finish it and worry about how much it sucks in editing. But there are more THINGS that need to happen and characters need to get their shit together and like… a climax and denouement should find their way in there.

The problem is that I’m doing that thing I always do when it takes me a long time to write a whole piece. I kinda like forget what happened before and like… who some of the side characters are and what their deal is and did I close their loop or is there some plot hole somewhere? Also, I had this whole side story about one of the girls in a relationship with an older man but decided I hated it and closed that loop with, “Yeah, I thought we were like, having a thing but mostly, I was having a crush and he was ignoring me.”

This is why editing exists. I just want to get to the shitty unsatisfying end so I can begin again with MASSIVE EDITS and CLARIFYING OF PLOT and WHO WAS THAT DUDE AGAIN?

But it’s August and I’m almost done with the first draft so… there’s still a chance this thing gets done by the end of the summer.

Postpoartum

I finally submitted my new book as a pre-order on KDP… with a spelling mistake on the cover. It’s in review now so I can’t change it. So… that’s awesome.

Way to be professional, Eda.

Let’s call this a cover reveal and pretend it’s exciting.

Using Your Powers for Evil

I’ve written nothing in months that wasn’t the fiction writer’s evil mustachioed twin: Marketing copy.

Still creative, just more manipulative. Still storytelling, but with the purpose of telling your audience that their life sucks and you can fix it if they just give you some money. Still… writing but the kind that rots your soul.

I’m ok. I don’t hate the world or anything. Anyway, wanna buy some stuff because… because that’s what I do now.

 

The Book OG Ghostbuster Fans Will Hate

I started re-reading one of my books recently and realized pretty quickly that I have mislabeled that poor lady and perhaps that’s why it don’t sell for shiz.

Also, am I too glib in my book descriptions? Is it so totally obvious that I do not take myself seriously as a writer? Is that why no one else does either?

Read all the cutesy and inspiring Pinterest quotes you want about #writinglife and #authorproblems to make yourself feel better about making your DREAMS come TRUE but when it comes down to it, you have to be dedicated enough to get things done if you want to be taken seriously as a writer.

And when I say “dedicated”, it’s not “to your craft”. It’s not “a writer WRITES” and “put on your black beret and tweet about coffee”.

If you want to make money and/or be taken seriously, apparently you have to be dedicated to all the boring crap no one wants to do: social media, self-promotion, paying for ads, writing promotional copy that doesn’t come across as self-deprecating.

 

A REAL writer doesn’t write glib promotional copy that comes across as self-deprecating.

 

Ugh, book descriptions. UGH, ad copy. UGHHH, self-promotion! Why can’t we just write the stuff we want to write and then people just find it and buy it for a nominal fee?

All this is to say that I will be re-writing some of my book descriptions in the near future and I’m not happy about it.

Lay Her Ghosts to Rest by Eda J Vor

This book isn’t a fun sci fi/occult adventure in ghost removal so much as a blatantly feminist critique of gender imbalances in the work place.

Sorry for the confusion, everyone! I was trying to make it fun when really, I’m just sick of not being taken seriously or paid fairly in any job I’ve ever had.

But also, there’s ghosts! (Some of those are feminist too!)

Keywords: Angry feminist ghost book, gay supporting characters, patriarchy in the workplace, corporate irresponsibility

Buy it on Amazon!

Girls Who Let It Go

It’s been a tough-to-get-going kind of month this… year, actually but I’m finally making some progress with my NaNoWriMo 2018 project!

You know when you get to the end of a story and you’re like, WAIT… what actually happened? Does this ending make sense? Did I contradict myself a few too many times? And when I’m writing with a deadline, the answers are No Idea, Not at ALL, and Absolutely. So down into the editing hole I go with a flashlight, some note cards, and a big ole red pen.

I’m not entirely unhappy with what I’m finding down here either. I am absolutely in love with my 13-year-old character, Amerie:

“Mara, I know we just met,” Amerie said in an excellent impression of maturity belied only by her sparkly rainbow journal cover. “But you have to know this about me: I am a feminist and I know some people are like, ‘feminists are terrible’ but it’s not true. Beyonce is a feminist and she’s like, American royalty.”

 

“Agreed,” I said because… truth. Beyonce is a queen. And if a girl’s gonna choose a role model, she could hardly do any better.

 

“So I’m not like, actually about to let a boy change who I am. I’ve seen Frozen.”

 

I hadn’t. So I … really didn’t understand the reference. Touche, child. Touche.

Here’s a little secret about this entire piece: Amerie is the hero.

 

Too Far Away to Camp

It’s so cute how I make little To Do notes to myself that say things like, “Finish writing that story” because… I’m not gonna finish writing that story. I’m going to open the document, stare at it, play some Twitter #amwriting hashtag games and then take 16 Buzzfeed quizzes.

This is why every other month should be NaNoWriMo. It’s the only way I get anything done.

Similar Homecomings

For the record, I started writing The Homecoming Effect in the summer of 2013 at my shitty desk job for a company that was crapping out and yet somehow paying me to answer their mostly silent phones and collect their mail. Also, unbeknownst to them, to write a book. It took me 3 years off and on to finish it, edit it, and self-publish it on Amazon.

So… now that that’s established (and yes, I have proof), let’s talk about this:

I haven’t seen this nor have I heard the podcast yet but… it has been suggested to me that this could be like, a prequel to my novel. Only, you know, better written and performed in two mediums with super famous people and resulting in money made for all of the people involved. Whereas, I sold a copy to my mom and a couple dozen strangers.

THUS it is yet again proven that there are no truly original ideas and if there are, I don’t got ’em.

But, you know, if you’re interested in a possible future scenario with a similar basic premise, you could be one of the dozens who’ve read my first novel.

The Homecoming Effect by Eda J Vor available in ebook and paperback format on Amazon.

Not at all affiliated with or plagiarized (I have proof) from the Amazon Prime show starring Julia Roberts, The Homecoming Effect is a post-apocalyptic chick-lit novel about a found family struggling to survive in a new town after their old world is blown apart.

What starts as a meaningless fling between Bunny, an emotionally-conflicted older woman who just left her battle-scarred husband and Daniel, a hopelessly infatuated younger man recently graduated from college, is curtailed by a series of explosions that destroys schools and hospitals sending the couple 200 miles from home with three children in tow. When the found family seeks safety in a strict religious community, they are forced to concoct a web of lies to appear legitimate and avoid being exiled, or worse. Can they maintain their ruse to avoid suspicion and keep their family together or will the secrets they keep from each other drive them apart? And how much of the trauma they discovered her husband and his father shared upon returning from war was ultimately responsible for the tragic events that lead to their new lives?

Cheaper than Amazon Prime and featuring several sexy scenes, my book is not at all a reasonable substitute for anything involving Julia Roberts.

 

 

Butterfly Affect

Here’s the problem with writing a sequel: You really need to remember what happened in the first book.

I’m currently RE-READING the first book AS I’m writing its sequel and I’m having trouble keeping up. With myself. My past self. My past self had more time and brain power and less children and more coffee.

Damn you, past self.

So my CampNaNo project has stalled out, waiting for me to finish reading what I wrote so I can write what I will write so past me and present me are prepared for future me’s horrible editor’s notes that say things like:

“Are you the same person who wrote the first book because NONE OF THIS MAKES SENSE!”

It’s a time-travel issue. Obviously. I’m just messing with the space-time continuum and screwing myself over in the process.

Here, (current) me, read this and get back to (future) me:

Not too long ago and partially in this very chair, I wrote a book that I can hardly remember now but somehow think I can write a sequel to. 

Can’t Find My Trail Mix

Happy NaNoCamp Eve, writer friends!

Anyone else suffering the dread of not having the right idea or temperament or schedule or brain space?

I am not at all prepared for this!