KDP says 72 hours so I assumed I’d be making this announcement in a couple of days, but here we are, Monday morning, and guess what?
This lady is ready to (pre) party:
Lay Her Ghosts to Rest
Available to preorder right now on Amazon
The official description is available both on the Amazon page and my Work page so why don’t I just lay it out for you here.
What this story is really about is recognizing negative patterns and realizing how difficult it is to break them. It is told from the perspective of a woman who cares deeply for others but can’t seem to give herself the same kind of care. The context is a pseudo post-apocalyptic institutionalized solution to restless spirits. The real world connection is radical self-care being one of the steps in creating a better community; creating a better community is one of the steps of having a healthy society.
I’m excited about this one, friends. I put a lot of thought and feeling and personal musing and life lessons into this one so I’m eager to see what others think. As always, the protagonist is extremely not me, but she has suffered some of the same quandaries, some similar setbacks to personal enlightenment, and she also thinks wakes are the most disgustingly unnatural perversions of grief performance.
Preorder now. Read August 11. Review without being a turd, please.
And if it really wasn’t what you were looking for (*cough bigot who reviewed my last book*), then you go start writing what you want to read, sir or ma’am, because that’s the only real way to get the story you’re looking for.
One of my toddler’s frequent declarations lately is, “So much fun take tings apart an put them togethah.”
“I’m glad you like your toys, bud,” I say as he yanks all the face parts off a potato head for the 15th time in a row.
But he’s got a point. When you find something you love to do, something that makes sense to you and provides you with a certain amount of satisfaction even in repetition, it is so! much! fun!
Mommy says, “So much fun, writing stories, ripping them apart, and then putting them back together.” Even when I complain about editing, it’s still part of an overall process I really enjoy.
Although… I can say that now because I’m pretty much done.
Details to follow! A new book! About ghosts and self-care and workplace issues and feminism! Oooooohhhhh!
It’s the graphs, you know it is. The question: why am I participating in Camp NaNoWriMo again if I’m editing and have trouble setting “goals” for non-writing activities.
I set my goal this July for one hundred and whatever pages, which is what my WIP comes out to be in non-formatted Google Doc text. But that would be just the one pass through and I’m not going to do just ONE pass at it! No sir. I already did one: the read-through to see if it makes any kind of sense. Next up: spelling and grammar check. Next after that: mapping the story to make DAMN SURE it makes sense (pass one was just a preliminary sense-making screening) and maybe during or maybe after, I also want to map the character arcs to see if they are good and satisfying.
That’s like, 2 1/2 more passes. So how do I mark that “goal” in Camp terms? Double the page count? Or double and a half? Or do I leave the goal as is and record only half the page numbers I’ve read through?
Oh, if it wasn’t for my love of graphs…
I’ll figure it out, I’m sure, but for now I’ve got an open document full of grammar errors and no more than 2 hours to see how much of it I can get through.
So far, I’m crap at Camping.
Social media is a distraction! she preached to a choir of like-minded individuals who rolled their eyes at the cliche. Ok, but really, though, she said because she had this plan for a blog post about writing characters with the traits of real-life people who annoy her both to humanize her characters and to gain some understanding and sympathy for the people who bug her. Instead, she got hung up on a weird comment/questions she read on Twitter in response to her last book’s promotion. What does it even MEAN? she asked herself, and is it even worth my time to consider, never mind respond?
I don’t know. What do you think?
In response to:
My… hairdresser? I don’t… get it. Am I being troll-baited or is this like a genuine (ly confusing) response to my amateur blurbing skills? Am I being challenged to step up my book marketing game or challenged to respond to a weirdo on the internet?
Because I like a challenge when it comes from someone I respect or at least from someone addressing me respectfully.
You know what might make for an interesting character trait? Someone who writes weird crap at strangers on the internet and what the hell their motivation is.
See how I brought it back around?
Yeah, I know, I said no more Camping while pregnant back in April but maaan… I need to write some stuff. And Camp gives me structure. And graphs. I like graphs. I just took the CampNaNoWriMo survey for April and that was my one comment. “I like graphs.”
I particularly like it when the graph looks like this.
And while I was there, YES I DID sign up for Camp in July. As with April, I’m a little fuzzy on what I would consider a win this time around. I am, after all, still pregnant–more so, in fact–and I did just move to a new house and I do still have a toddler and 2 jobs to contend with but knowing that I’ll also have a brand new child come November and between the old child and the new child and the 2 jobs, probably less time to write, the timing seems right, right?
Maybe I’ll write a short story. That seems doable.
Meanwhile, I’ve only edited the first 3 1/2 chapters of my last WIP. So there’s a project going places! Like to my beta reader with a comment approximating, “Not edited well, not even proofed at all, but I’d really like to know if anyone would possibly give a poop about this story. Here’s 3 chapters.”
Truth? The story seems interesting. The writing seems overly formal to begin with because I began narrating with the main character’s voice. I’m pretty sure I dropped that along the way. Hence the need to edit.
But, you know, whatever, because CAMP in July! There’s a new story to be told and I’m gonna go ahead and get to going about the business of figuring out what that might be!
(After I go to Target. Obviously. I have a new house to buy crap for.)
I’m not the kind of person who accidentally drops the ball when things get a little tense. I choose the ball that means the least to me and I throw it furiously at the wall, delighting in the sound it makes as it shatters into a million pieces.
Hahaha! SMASH! That’s what you get, ball! Stop being a distraction from more important things!
The ball I’ve already chosen, the one reduced to dust in the corner over there? That one is my interest and personal involvement in politics. I can’t keep up with what’s going on in this country any more than I can keep up with professional sports teams. If the hometown heroes win something significant, I’ll say a Yay! and high-five whoever gives a damn. If the team of Cheetos in the White House fails spectacularly in their latest evil-doing, same deal. But otherwise, I’m out. … Except voting. I always vote.
The next ball is going to be Camp NaNoWriMo but I don’t think I’ll be celebrating that one. Still, of the many planets converging in my universe, that one is BY FAR the least consequential.
Sorry Cabinmates. I’ll miss the time we could have spent bonding.
I’d like to say I took a few days off and now I’m back with a vengeance but it’s probably more accurate to say I’m back with a short-lived, half-hearted grudge. I haven’t written anything other than work-related emails in several days and it’s not looking like I’m going to get much done today either.
But sometimes when you have two jobs, a toddler, are selling your house, buying another and are pregnant, you have to prioritize doctor’s appointments and three hours of signing legal paperwork over your hobbies.
The good news is that, at least in my own head, I’ve resolved the central conflict of my WIP and all I have to do now is make sure that makes it onto the page in a satisfactory way. Then maybe write an epilogue. Then start the editing process which I will inevitably half-ass (what with all the doctor’s appointments, vendor meetings, and house-related shenanigans) before throwing that sucker up on Amazon before kid number two takes over my life. Which is September. So I have until September to completely finish and let go of this story.
You know, as soon as I get three seconds between meetings and appointments to like, breath.
Here’s where I’m having some trouble with Camp: I don’t know how to set up my project.
Because I’m not starting fresh, I’m finishing up. Because reaching a particular word count isn’t my actual goal but finishing this WIP logically and satisfactorily is. Because I want to finish writing and at least start editing. There’s no, like… button for that kind of goal.
And here’s the exciting part! I may have almost sort of finished the story… in a place that seems a little lazy but might actually be perfect. I won’t know for sure until I edit but there it is. Maybe the ending really is just my MC being like, “Listen, I learned this stuff about life and changed my way of thinking so where normally, I’d be freaking out and making plans to combat the situation just revealed to me, I’m going to chill the frig out, readjust my priorities, and go make out with my boyfriend instead.”
Also, maybe I should write a epilogue. Still, not going to be the 10,000 words (or more) I originally set as my goal. So luckily, I can adjust goals. But still not to “finishing a story and editing the bajesus out of it”.
Camp and NaNo’s stats counter seems more fit to writing something new. Lesson learned.
It’s a slow start to the camping season with just 150 words written but every one was written on my phone, in between episodes of Paw Patrol, and all using just the one finger to type. Much like this post.
Motherwriters do what they gotta do, y’all.
Pardon me while I hunt and peck my way to the end of this entry.
It makes me feel all warm and tingly that this tweet got a lot of likes. It’s almost like people enjoy knowing that good folk exist and horrible, spineless, greedy bastards aren’t the only ones left on the planet… even though she’s a fictional character.
But if we don’t write the characters who want to help, who will be our role models? Real people? Pfft.