It’s December and we all know what that means besides presents, parties and cold weather. I am talking about the time of year when we start reflecting. Looking back on life in general and this year in particular is always interesting.
I tend to be a pretty reflective person to begin with (and no I do not mean I am mirrored) but I think a lot. I wonder what if, who was, why did, when did, how is that and so on. So the end of the year is just a chance for me to do it without everyone talking about how OCD I am or telling me that I hold onto things for too long and to let it go. (did anyone else just hear a Disney song in their heads or was that just me?)
My life has taken a total detour from where I was just last year. It’s crazy to think about all the positive changes. But even beyond the book and the store and all the other things I’ve talked about before there is a new revelation for me. I have always had a bad temper, we’re talking throwing-things-tears-flying-screaming-mad kind of temper and it has been over a year since I lost it. And while I am still an emotional basket case I do find myself much more even keeled. Less off balance.
I always worried about how I would react to turning forty. I was positive that I wouldn’t react well and would be a mess for the entire year. I’ve seen how others react both in person and on television and I knew I would be the type to overreact. BUT I didn’t. Turning forty has been great. I feel better, more hopeful, happier than I have in a long time.
I am going to leave this (admittedly short) post on a happy note and say goodnight, may you all look for the positives in your own lives and find what means everything to you
Friday, 12 December 2014
Tuesday, 2 December 2014
I'm Baaaack!
So wow. November sped by crazy fast. I took part in NaNoWriMo which stands for National Novel Writing Month. It’s an online initiative that prompts authors to set a goal and write a 50,000 word rough draft of a novel by the end of the month.
I have never written that way before. It was very different from my usual read-reread-edit-reread-edit-repeat, as I write, style. Instead it’s like you are vomiting words onto the page directly from your soul, just get the words down on paper (or keyboard as the case may be). To give you an idea at 50000 words I have written (single spaced, 11 point font, calibri) 104 pages. It works out to for the month of November writing at least 1500 words a day (4 pages), no weekends off counting every single day in the month. Which any writer will tell you is a lot.
I don’t know if anything I wrote even made any sense, if the plotline is lost or characters likeable. I know nothing beside that I did it. It was incredibly questionable for quite some time (with four days left to go I was only at 37,000 words) but then the universe stepped in. I lost my television. Yes, it died a horrendous but sudden death. No television for me. So with way less distractions I focussed and got it done. 50,263 words at the end of November. The story isn’t done yet – and by that I mean the rough draft isn’t done yet I’m only about 2/3 of the way through my planned plotline. So I still have a lot of work to do. But I am rather proud of myself (self-congratulatory pat on the back now) for even completing the exercise.
As the month sped along I also had a lot of things in my mundane life fall to pieces (which I am still trying to glue back together in some semblance of normalcy) Overall my month away from the blog was a wild ride.
Supernaturally Yours is out and available and I can tell you there is nothing like the feeling of seeing your book on a kobo, in proper book format, with your name at the top, looking like a real live book! I still haven’t come down from that high. Readers have been telling me how much they love the character and the story and asking if I am doing another novel set in that world. I’ve even had to give my first autograph (a moment that threw me for a total loop) and the poor lady got a signature that isn’t legible since I was nervous shaking so much.
I talked to my brother the other night (we don’t talk often which really sucks since we were so close at one point in time, as teenagers and young adults (we were roommates after we moved out of home) and partied together a lot being only 16 months apart made our relationship different from most siblings) – but distance makes it hard and I am as guilty as him of letting the relationship slide) but anyways I digress. I was talking to him and telling him about my crazy author month and he said something that only someone who grew up with me so close could say.
He said, “You did it. This is what you always dreamed about.”
Then he told me to suck it up and get ready to sign autographs, which is also something
only someone who was as close could say.
We lost our mother ten years ago. She and I were also very close, she knew my dreams, my aspirations, she KNEW me as much as my big brother does. I would like to think that if she was still around that those words are what she would have said to me.
So enough of the mushy stuff, I’m sitting in a coffee shop with tears running down my cheeks as I think about what Mom would have said and now people are starting to look at me funny.
Talking to my brother brought a lot of things home for me. Understand my brother is a tough, no nonsense kind of guy. You know the type, black belt, MMA watching tough guy who hasn’t read a book since high school.
So he tells me that he bought my “damn book” and proceeds to yell at me for making him read “zombie porn.”
I laughed and told him it wasn’t porn that it was romance.
He ignored me and continued. “And the worst of it is every word, including thrusting and moaning is said, inside my head, in your voice!” I nearly peed myself laughing at that one. I really never expected him to read it so even the fact that he is trying is enough to make me happy.
So here I am adjusting to life. Adjusting to being able to honestly call myself an author (even though it’s still hard). Adjusting to being myself. I finally feel, at forty, like I am finding myself. I’ve done so much soul searching in the last year that I hardly recognize the person I am. I’m a lot more grounded, more stable, less of an emotional basket case, I’m still me, I’m just me2.0, a better version. And I am happy with the me I’ve become.
I have never written that way before. It was very different from my usual read-reread-edit-reread-edit-repeat, as I write, style. Instead it’s like you are vomiting words onto the page directly from your soul, just get the words down on paper (or keyboard as the case may be). To give you an idea at 50000 words I have written (single spaced, 11 point font, calibri) 104 pages. It works out to for the month of November writing at least 1500 words a day (4 pages), no weekends off counting every single day in the month. Which any writer will tell you is a lot.
I don’t know if anything I wrote even made any sense, if the plotline is lost or characters likeable. I know nothing beside that I did it. It was incredibly questionable for quite some time (with four days left to go I was only at 37,000 words) but then the universe stepped in. I lost my television. Yes, it died a horrendous but sudden death. No television for me. So with way less distractions I focussed and got it done. 50,263 words at the end of November. The story isn’t done yet – and by that I mean the rough draft isn’t done yet I’m only about 2/3 of the way through my planned plotline. So I still have a lot of work to do. But I am rather proud of myself (self-congratulatory pat on the back now) for even completing the exercise.
As the month sped along I also had a lot of things in my mundane life fall to pieces (which I am still trying to glue back together in some semblance of normalcy) Overall my month away from the blog was a wild ride.
Supernaturally Yours is out and available and I can tell you there is nothing like the feeling of seeing your book on a kobo, in proper book format, with your name at the top, looking like a real live book! I still haven’t come down from that high. Readers have been telling me how much they love the character and the story and asking if I am doing another novel set in that world. I’ve even had to give my first autograph (a moment that threw me for a total loop) and the poor lady got a signature that isn’t legible since I was nervous shaking so much.
I talked to my brother the other night (we don’t talk often which really sucks since we were so close at one point in time, as teenagers and young adults (we were roommates after we moved out of home) and partied together a lot being only 16 months apart made our relationship different from most siblings) – but distance makes it hard and I am as guilty as him of letting the relationship slide) but anyways I digress. I was talking to him and telling him about my crazy author month and he said something that only someone who grew up with me so close could say.
He said, “You did it. This is what you always dreamed about.”
Then he told me to suck it up and get ready to sign autographs, which is also something
only someone who was as close could say.
We lost our mother ten years ago. She and I were also very close, she knew my dreams, my aspirations, she KNEW me as much as my big brother does. I would like to think that if she was still around that those words are what she would have said to me.
So enough of the mushy stuff, I’m sitting in a coffee shop with tears running down my cheeks as I think about what Mom would have said and now people are starting to look at me funny.
Talking to my brother brought a lot of things home for me. Understand my brother is a tough, no nonsense kind of guy. You know the type, black belt, MMA watching tough guy who hasn’t read a book since high school.
So he tells me that he bought my “damn book” and proceeds to yell at me for making him read “zombie porn.”
I laughed and told him it wasn’t porn that it was romance.
He ignored me and continued. “And the worst of it is every word, including thrusting and moaning is said, inside my head, in your voice!” I nearly peed myself laughing at that one. I really never expected him to read it so even the fact that he is trying is enough to make me happy.
So here I am adjusting to life. Adjusting to being able to honestly call myself an author (even though it’s still hard). Adjusting to being myself. I finally feel, at forty, like I am finding myself. I’ve done so much soul searching in the last year that I hardly recognize the person I am. I’m a lot more grounded, more stable, less of an emotional basket case, I’m still me, I’m just me2.0, a better version. And I am happy with the me I’ve become.
Friday, 7 November 2014
Let's go Cray-Cray!
So much has happened since I last wrote a blog entry. It has been a completely crazy couple of weeks. Last Friday Supernaturally Yours went live. It is available for ebook (epub, pdf, kindle formats) at this point. It will be available (fingers crossed) in print in February 2016. I'll include the links at the end of the post (just in case you haven't had a chance to get your copy yet) Also it will be available on kobo soon, just waiting for them to do their thing.
I had the most surreal day of my life the day it came out. First going to Amazon.ca and seeing my name, my book, my baby there available for the world was an insane moment. Then I went out for breakfast (I have a usual gang of friends that meets every friday for breakfast) and they cheered as I came in. They had also decorated the table and gifted me with many penises (or maybe it's penii ??) Why penis's you ask? Well that is a very long story, so let's leave it at my friends are awesome and let you use your imagination. If you ask nicely I might tell the story...
I fully admit to googling myself (how corny but I couldn't resist) when I got to the store that day, and the entire first page of results were real - even some I didn't know about. Again totally surreal moment.
After work being it was halloween the store I run hosted a huge Be-Witching Ball, which I organized and ran. So I tore around decorating and getting ready and making sure everyone had a blast and that things ran smoothly. It was cray-cray. The main event (besides drinking, dancing and hanging with friends) was an act we brought in for the night. I got to watch a woman sew her lips shut and skewer herself, where she added fruit to the ends. She looked like a weird fruit kabob. Again just adding to the nuts night and day.
Finally I went to bed and woke up the next morning to realize it was all true. It all happened. It wasn't some dream.
I also decided to take part in NaNoWriMo (if you're a writer this is a pretty neat initiative you should google it when you are googling yourself) For the uninitiated Nanowrimo is short for National Novel Writing Month. Basically setting a goal and writing like mad for the month to reach 50,000 words by the end of November. So while this is going on I don't anticipate posting a lot on here (I have enough words to write as it is)
Even now I still feel odd, like I am in some alternate reality. This hasn't sunk in. Try to understand up until the novel came out it was all an exercise. The bottom could fall out at any time. I honestly didn't think much past the "get the editing done and keep going" phase. It wasn't real. Now it is. Real. Like really real. And totally cray-cray.
I'm gonna sign off now I have to write at least 1500 words today - I'll post again in December (if I have any fingertips or brains left)
Here's the links I promised you:
http://musapublishing.com/index.php?main_page=advanced_search_result&search_in_description=1&zenid=98ba3089fbb1275c59d249fe0f4cc0a6&keyword=gloria+bishop
http://www.amazon.ca/Supernaturally-Yours-Gloria-C-Bishop-ebook/dp/B00P2KL2OG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1415378965&sr=8-1&keywords=gloria+bishop
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23501845-supernaturally-yours?from_search=true
Thursday, 23 October 2014
A post about nothing
This morning I sat in a coffee shop, a bit of a hole in the wall, bohemian place. The whirring sounds of the cappuccino maker and conversations of passersby’s combining with the soft voice on the sound system drifts over my ears. The floors are worn in a path that leads to the counter that is manned by a dreadlocked woman whose smile is infectious. I love this place. If I sit in the front I can watch as life goes by in an unending stream of traffic while I sit and enjoy the moment. If I sit in the back the windows overlook the river where I can see the changing colours of fall sliding along in a peaceful cornucopia of breath. Evens its name Slave to the Grind takes imagery and thrusts it into the mind.
So this morning I sit and enjoy my chai tea, the same as every other morning. Breathing and prepping myself for the day. I started coming here regularly as a way to force myself to write. I sit wrapped in the warmth of my favorite haunt and type away on my baby laptop. Inspiration finds me and makes me its bitch.
I have set a rather lofty goal of trying to write one thousand words a day. Most writers say to write three hundred and fifty, so perhaps I am being an over achiever. For those not in the know, three hundred fifty words is approximately a page. So a thousand is a lot and so far I’ve maintained that. I’m not kidding myself if I can’t make it well than I won’t beat myself up on it. But I like having a goal – an end point. And honestly usually when I start (especially when I am mid story) the words flow and I can easily end up doing twice that many.
But there are some days, especially coming up in the foul weather of south western Ontario where writing is like pulling teeth. Each word is a struggle. Or where the story goes sideways and I just can’t write it anymore. I have a novel that is in process, sitting at thirty thousand words (about half way done) and I’ve lost all my get up and go about the story, the characters, everything. I’ve got another one, where at ten thousand words I realized there was no way it could be used at all. Both of those I’ve set aside and hope to come back to at some point. For now I file them away and keep going.
I’ve got just over a week until my release date. It’s really getting close now, close and crazy and scary and exciting and pride filling and utterly terrifying. I’m holding it together barely suppressing my emotions but holding it together none the less. The passage of time seems like a paradox, at points going so slowly that things are NEVER going to happen, then whizzing by in hardly noticed impressions. I know I’m regurgitating what a lot of science fiction shows talk about, but I feel right now like I am stuck in warp drive.
I know I’ve talked before about the busyness of life and this month is no exception. I am organizing a huge Halloween bash, running the store, writing, releasing a book, having my daughter’s birthday, having to attend four other major functions and trying to breath. It’s a crazy month. So I apologize if my brain isn’t working the way I would hope it would normally.
Today’s nonsensical post is about nothing. I am going to include a poem, which I normally wouldn’t – this isn’t the forum for poetry but I wrote this the other day when Mr. Gloria asked me what it felt like to write a novel. I also in no way claim to be a poet but I was feeling it at that moment. So here it is, feel free to ignore it or read it your choice.
That’s it for today. Wish me luck as I progress through this week and try to hold my shit together. (and just so you know this post is sitting at 691 words – so I am not done for the day)
Birthing A Novel
Hour by hour, minute by minute
carving little pieces of my soul
to serve on a plate for the public to mock
Days spent in little coffee shops, ignoring family and friends,
Surrounding myself instead with my characters,
hurting when they hurt, crying when they cry,
losing time, losing sleep as the world I engross myself in takes over.
Monopolizing my time, my energy, my every thought.
staring out windows agonizing over what they would do and the choices they must make.
Hands constantly poised over keyboard waiting for the words to come.
Hoping, praying for inspiration.
So Why?
Why do it?
Why not just ignore the voices in my head begging to be let out?
Why, because the call is too strong.
I write or I am not.
I am what I am, I cannot pretend to be something else.
I cannot lose myself in the world of the mundane.
I will become something I can’t be
The story begs to be told.
I must endeavour to give it the justice it deserves.
I am a slave to my muse, to the creative juices within myself.
I follow because I have no choice.
So this morning I sit and enjoy my chai tea, the same as every other morning. Breathing and prepping myself for the day. I started coming here regularly as a way to force myself to write. I sit wrapped in the warmth of my favorite haunt and type away on my baby laptop. Inspiration finds me and makes me its bitch.
I have set a rather lofty goal of trying to write one thousand words a day. Most writers say to write three hundred and fifty, so perhaps I am being an over achiever. For those not in the know, three hundred fifty words is approximately a page. So a thousand is a lot and so far I’ve maintained that. I’m not kidding myself if I can’t make it well than I won’t beat myself up on it. But I like having a goal – an end point. And honestly usually when I start (especially when I am mid story) the words flow and I can easily end up doing twice that many.
But there are some days, especially coming up in the foul weather of south western Ontario where writing is like pulling teeth. Each word is a struggle. Or where the story goes sideways and I just can’t write it anymore. I have a novel that is in process, sitting at thirty thousand words (about half way done) and I’ve lost all my get up and go about the story, the characters, everything. I’ve got another one, where at ten thousand words I realized there was no way it could be used at all. Both of those I’ve set aside and hope to come back to at some point. For now I file them away and keep going.
I’ve got just over a week until my release date. It’s really getting close now, close and crazy and scary and exciting and pride filling and utterly terrifying. I’m holding it together barely suppressing my emotions but holding it together none the less. The passage of time seems like a paradox, at points going so slowly that things are NEVER going to happen, then whizzing by in hardly noticed impressions. I know I’m regurgitating what a lot of science fiction shows talk about, but I feel right now like I am stuck in warp drive.
I know I’ve talked before about the busyness of life and this month is no exception. I am organizing a huge Halloween bash, running the store, writing, releasing a book, having my daughter’s birthday, having to attend four other major functions and trying to breath. It’s a crazy month. So I apologize if my brain isn’t working the way I would hope it would normally.
Today’s nonsensical post is about nothing. I am going to include a poem, which I normally wouldn’t – this isn’t the forum for poetry but I wrote this the other day when Mr. Gloria asked me what it felt like to write a novel. I also in no way claim to be a poet but I was feeling it at that moment. So here it is, feel free to ignore it or read it your choice.
That’s it for today. Wish me luck as I progress through this week and try to hold my shit together. (and just so you know this post is sitting at 691 words – so I am not done for the day)
Birthing A Novel
Hour by hour, minute by minute
carving little pieces of my soul
to serve on a plate for the public to mock
Days spent in little coffee shops, ignoring family and friends,
Surrounding myself instead with my characters,
hurting when they hurt, crying when they cry,
losing time, losing sleep as the world I engross myself in takes over.
Monopolizing my time, my energy, my every thought.
staring out windows agonizing over what they would do and the choices they must make.
Hands constantly poised over keyboard waiting for the words to come.
Hoping, praying for inspiration.
So Why?
Why do it?
Why not just ignore the voices in my head begging to be let out?
Why, because the call is too strong.
I write or I am not.
I am what I am, I cannot pretend to be something else.
I cannot lose myself in the world of the mundane.
I will become something I can’t be
The story begs to be told.
I must endeavour to give it the justice it deserves.
I am a slave to my muse, to the creative juices within myself.
I follow because I have no choice.
Tuesday, 14 October 2014
Oh my Gawd!
Today is a beautiful fall day and I am sitting in my favourite hole in the wall coffee shop, enjoying a tea. I do love the smell of coffee, it evokes such positive, warm, feelings, but I’ll be honest when I say I cannot stand the taste of the stuff. Makes me want to vomit – no matter how much milk and sugar I add. So I stick to my tea and pretend I am sophisticated, AKA adult, enough to drink a cup of Joe. I watch as the leaves change colours and while I love the look of this season, I hate knowing that winter is merely minutes away. I fully admit to being a summer girl, basking in the sun, never cold just breathing. But the wheel of time moves on whether I wish it to or not.
As October speeds along, things for me are just getting more and more real. Only seventeen days until the official release of Supernaturally Yours. (Which by the way is available for preorder in eBook format on www.musapublishing.com – here’s the direct link . My nerves are a little ruined; I am still in a total state of shock.
I was doing up posters for the novel when I thought I’d better put a web address on them, so I faithfully went to my publishers website (just to make sure I had typed it in right) and while there I thought “What the hell, let’s put my name in the search bar.” Just for (as my mother used to say) ‘shits and giggles’ and lo to my surprise the cover pops up. Along with my blurb, excerpt and link to the book trailer. There was also a little red button for “buy now”. I nearly peed my pants. Quite honestly I screeched (and for those of you who know me, know I NEVER screech). It was an honest “Oh my god.” Moment. (which I said at least four times – each progressively screechier. There it was. My book. My love, my soul, my brain child, bane of my existence, my focus for the last two years. RIGHT THERE! I don’t think I will ever have a moment like that again in my life. I immediately called Mr. Gloria at work (pulling him from a meeting – but OH MY GOD!!) I screeched at him and freaked out a bit. Okay a lot. But it’s all new for me, I’m allowed. I am trying to find the words to express my emotions in that moment. Overwhelming happiness, disbelief, pride, fear, anxiety and joy all rolled up into a big old ball of “oh, my GAWD!”
I guess I am still in that stage of being unable to believe it is happening. I keep expecting the publisher to turn around and go “oops, sorry. We made a mistake.” Or “Bazinga! Fooled ya!” Not that I don’t think Supernaturally Yours is a great book, I do. It’s just this shit doesn’t happen to me.
Although I seem to be the only one with these secret doubts hiding inside me. I was talking to Mr. Gloria about it and he says. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.” When I asked him what he meant by that he clarified, that he’d always known he would see my work published somewhere. From the time he read the first poem I ever shared with him he saw something in me that would be more. He said that he knew how special I was and that the world would discover it as soon as I let them see it, instead of hiding the real me behind a mask of normalcy. - As if he wasn’t sweet enough without all the honeyed words, then he has to go and say things that almost make me cry. Bastard. But a really great bastard nonetheless.
I was kinda shocked by his admission, for a few reasons. First, I never saw anything special in me, I am just me. Second, that the bugger has known I could do so much more, and in the twenty years we’ve been together he never told me to get off my ass and do it. Third, that he could have such faith in me is truly humbling.
So I sit in my coffee shop, almost drinking coffee and going over all the ways my life has changed. Wait that’s not right my life hasn’t changed, I have. I am learning to accept me and love myself and believe in myself and maybe that is where the difference is. I like the person I am, a year or two ago I would have hidden from myself, behind a wall of everyday mom, instead of embracing the wookie wearing scooter riding freak that I am. I would never have believed that I deserved any of this. The fact that the world will soon be able to read my work (which is like reading inside my brain, my mind, my soul) is terrifying to me but I’m not afraid of it. Sounds like a weird sentiment, but I’m terrified of putting myself out there to be ridiculed, to be thought of as ‘less than’ but I am also not afraid. I know this is the path I am meant to take, the one I have to take. This is where I was meant to be. I only shake my head at how long it took me to get here.
As October speeds along, things for me are just getting more and more real. Only seventeen days until the official release of Supernaturally Yours. (Which by the way is available for preorder in eBook format on www.musapublishing.com – here’s the direct link . My nerves are a little ruined; I am still in a total state of shock.
I was doing up posters for the novel when I thought I’d better put a web address on them, so I faithfully went to my publishers website (just to make sure I had typed it in right) and while there I thought “What the hell, let’s put my name in the search bar.” Just for (as my mother used to say) ‘shits and giggles’ and lo to my surprise the cover pops up. Along with my blurb, excerpt and link to the book trailer. There was also a little red button for “buy now”. I nearly peed my pants. Quite honestly I screeched (and for those of you who know me, know I NEVER screech). It was an honest “Oh my god.” Moment. (which I said at least four times – each progressively screechier. There it was. My book. My love, my soul, my brain child, bane of my existence, my focus for the last two years. RIGHT THERE! I don’t think I will ever have a moment like that again in my life. I immediately called Mr. Gloria at work (pulling him from a meeting – but OH MY GOD!!) I screeched at him and freaked out a bit. Okay a lot. But it’s all new for me, I’m allowed. I am trying to find the words to express my emotions in that moment. Overwhelming happiness, disbelief, pride, fear, anxiety and joy all rolled up into a big old ball of “oh, my GAWD!”
I guess I am still in that stage of being unable to believe it is happening. I keep expecting the publisher to turn around and go “oops, sorry. We made a mistake.” Or “Bazinga! Fooled ya!” Not that I don’t think Supernaturally Yours is a great book, I do. It’s just this shit doesn’t happen to me.
Although I seem to be the only one with these secret doubts hiding inside me. I was talking to Mr. Gloria about it and he says. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.” When I asked him what he meant by that he clarified, that he’d always known he would see my work published somewhere. From the time he read the first poem I ever shared with him he saw something in me that would be more. He said that he knew how special I was and that the world would discover it as soon as I let them see it, instead of hiding the real me behind a mask of normalcy. - As if he wasn’t sweet enough without all the honeyed words, then he has to go and say things that almost make me cry. Bastard. But a really great bastard nonetheless.
I was kinda shocked by his admission, for a few reasons. First, I never saw anything special in me, I am just me. Second, that the bugger has known I could do so much more, and in the twenty years we’ve been together he never told me to get off my ass and do it. Third, that he could have such faith in me is truly humbling.
So I sit in my coffee shop, almost drinking coffee and going over all the ways my life has changed. Wait that’s not right my life hasn’t changed, I have. I am learning to accept me and love myself and believe in myself and maybe that is where the difference is. I like the person I am, a year or two ago I would have hidden from myself, behind a wall of everyday mom, instead of embracing the wookie wearing scooter riding freak that I am. I would never have believed that I deserved any of this. The fact that the world will soon be able to read my work (which is like reading inside my brain, my mind, my soul) is terrifying to me but I’m not afraid of it. Sounds like a weird sentiment, but I’m terrified of putting myself out there to be ridiculed, to be thought of as ‘less than’ but I am also not afraid. I know this is the path I am meant to take, the one I have to take. This is where I was meant to be. I only shake my head at how long it took me to get here.
Friday, 26 September 2014
Back to reality.
So I’ve been struggling with a few things, which is one of many reasons why my online presence has been absent. First my mundane life (the one I live every day instead of the fantasy life, writing and being super creative 24-7) has been crazy.
I own a shop, a small shop but mine nonetheless and I have been crazily trying to keep up with the day to day (and playing catch up from vacation). Which, added to the decision to create a whole butt ton of products myself, has left me a wee bit tired, overwhelmed and frankly just a wee bit cranky. I tend to be a touch obsessive and want everything to be perfect, professional and DONE. When I think of an idea there is no putting it off – I want it now. Instant gratification girl right here.
So I come up with this brilliant idea to make incense (only 21 scents, no big deal) then I think, while I am at it why don’t I make a bath salts and a smudge spray (involving a sage infusion which takes a lot of time and energy), oh and rose water would go nicely along with that, and if I am making all that I may as well make Florida water and abramelin oil, and four thieves vinegar too. So what started as a “let’s do a couple of fun things” has exploded into a massive overwhelming undertaking. Please don’t misunderstand, I love doing all this – it’s just my eyes are bigger than my proverbial tummy. I am getting it all done- it’s just slightly boggling.
My vacation in Spain was great, also overwhelming and not what I expected. The views were spectacular, there were surreal moments interspersed with lows and highs so extreme they left me off kilter. Sometimes things don’t happen the way I think they should and I get let down easily. My feelings have always been my downfall, I can’t help but be the person who takes things personally and gets hurt regularly by things no one thinks will hurt. Mr. Gloria always warns me about wearing my heart on my sleeve and how he doesn’t like to see me disappointed. I try to be a duck (nothing sticks to a duck – everything just slides off its back) but I’m not. Anyways my vacation was exciting and everything – just not what I thought.
Although on a side note – the apartment we stayed at had a five piece bathroom (with a bidet and all) now I’ve seen these bidet things on television and heard about them but never had the opportunity to -ahem -test one out. So while I had one residing in the same space as me I thought, “what the hell – let’s give it a whirl.” Well, ladies let me tell you. It was not at all what I expected.
I have thought a lot about the experience and come to one conclusion – I am not high class enough to enjoy a bidet. The water temperature left lots to be desired, that and the spray wasn’t forceful enough to reach the bits it was supposed to be reaching, which left me splashing around like a child in an incredibly weird wading pool. But more than anything the awkward, demeaning and potentially dangerous position one needs to contort oneself into, in order to perch on the torturous device left me cringing. And incredibly thankful that I had preemptively locked the door so Mr. Gloria did not walk in on that fabulous view. Now that I have allowed you a glimpse inside my weird and odd bathroom escapades I will return to the topic on hand…what was I saying again? Hold on while I read the beginning and remember what I was talking about….
Right, that’s it.
So vacation wasn’t what I thought, and in my everyday life I’ve been incredibly busy. I also have been working away on some new stuff – finished my initial draft of a novella I hope to have edited and ready to send off to publishers soon. I've been plotting away, getting to know my next main character, who I think is pretty fabulous. I received the cover art for Supernaturally Yours (which I am super excited about by the way). Thing 1 started grade 12 and Thing 2 is now a high schooler. My babies are growing so big and old and mature that it scares me. These are some of the things I have been struggling to balance. I know I am not the only one who has issues finding harmony between family and work and passions. It has been quite a journey for me to learn how to do just that.
I also struggle with self-confidence (a lot) it’s one of the reasons it took me so long to actually send something I wrote to a publisher (or even let anyone including my besties or Mr. Gloria read my words.) I mean for God’s sake I just turned 40, who in their right mind starts a career path like 'writer' at this ripe age? I even have problems calling myself a writer or God forbid an Author. An author is someone like Katie Macalister, like Patrick Rothfuss, Charlaine Harris. These amazing creatures who can string together words like popcorn while sitting on the pedestals I thrust them on. It isn’t me, awkward, uneven, plain old me. I am not that person, and being able to see myself that way is a real trial. It doesn't happen easily. The past month has been a real trial with, and on, my esteem, believing that I am good enough, that I deserve this is a daily struggle that I encounter. I try so hard to not be down on myself, to believe, but it is difficult.
The publisher has delayed Supernaturally Yours publication date by two weeks. Not a big deal I know (in my head I know) but my emotions immediately went to the “What did I do wrong?” “I’m not good enough.” “This is all a joke, I’m gonna wake up tomorrow and find it never happened.” Place. It took a lot of internal self-boosting talk and listening to Mr. Gloria for me to put those thoughts aside and keep going.
So I’ve avoided posting, trying to think happy and be happy and post happy and most of all trying to be gentle with myself. Finally I couldn’t ignore it any longer I had to blog. SO here I am, emotionally naked, letting you all know what I can’t hide from. I’m not looking for pity (I can give plenty of that to myself) but rather just wanted to show you all I am human. I also wanted to explain my absence so that no one thought I was ignoring them.
Wow reading this blog back makes me sound right certifiable – I swear I’m not. I get down, and today (this month) has been a down time. I will survive, and will perk up by the next time I write.
An incredibly long post and for that I apologize and hope everyone can forgive my blabbering on. I promise next one will be happier. To ask for forgiveness I will include a couple of pictures of me in Mijas Pueblo and Ronda in Spain. As I said, unreal views and unbelievable moments. That’s what I need to hold onto rather than the low points.
I own a shop, a small shop but mine nonetheless and I have been crazily trying to keep up with the day to day (and playing catch up from vacation). Which, added to the decision to create a whole butt ton of products myself, has left me a wee bit tired, overwhelmed and frankly just a wee bit cranky. I tend to be a touch obsessive and want everything to be perfect, professional and DONE. When I think of an idea there is no putting it off – I want it now. Instant gratification girl right here.
So I come up with this brilliant idea to make incense (only 21 scents, no big deal) then I think, while I am at it why don’t I make a bath salts and a smudge spray (involving a sage infusion which takes a lot of time and energy), oh and rose water would go nicely along with that, and if I am making all that I may as well make Florida water and abramelin oil, and four thieves vinegar too. So what started as a “let’s do a couple of fun things” has exploded into a massive overwhelming undertaking. Please don’t misunderstand, I love doing all this – it’s just my eyes are bigger than my proverbial tummy. I am getting it all done- it’s just slightly boggling.
My vacation in Spain was great, also overwhelming and not what I expected. The views were spectacular, there were surreal moments interspersed with lows and highs so extreme they left me off kilter. Sometimes things don’t happen the way I think they should and I get let down easily. My feelings have always been my downfall, I can’t help but be the person who takes things personally and gets hurt regularly by things no one thinks will hurt. Mr. Gloria always warns me about wearing my heart on my sleeve and how he doesn’t like to see me disappointed. I try to be a duck (nothing sticks to a duck – everything just slides off its back) but I’m not. Anyways my vacation was exciting and everything – just not what I thought.
Although on a side note – the apartment we stayed at had a five piece bathroom (with a bidet and all) now I’ve seen these bidet things on television and heard about them but never had the opportunity to -ahem -test one out. So while I had one residing in the same space as me I thought, “what the hell – let’s give it a whirl.” Well, ladies let me tell you. It was not at all what I expected.
I have thought a lot about the experience and come to one conclusion – I am not high class enough to enjoy a bidet. The water temperature left lots to be desired, that and the spray wasn’t forceful enough to reach the bits it was supposed to be reaching, which left me splashing around like a child in an incredibly weird wading pool. But more than anything the awkward, demeaning and potentially dangerous position one needs to contort oneself into, in order to perch on the torturous device left me cringing. And incredibly thankful that I had preemptively locked the door so Mr. Gloria did not walk in on that fabulous view. Now that I have allowed you a glimpse inside my weird and odd bathroom escapades I will return to the topic on hand…what was I saying again? Hold on while I read the beginning and remember what I was talking about….
Right, that’s it.
So vacation wasn’t what I thought, and in my everyday life I’ve been incredibly busy. I also have been working away on some new stuff – finished my initial draft of a novella I hope to have edited and ready to send off to publishers soon. I've been plotting away, getting to know my next main character, who I think is pretty fabulous. I received the cover art for Supernaturally Yours (which I am super excited about by the way). Thing 1 started grade 12 and Thing 2 is now a high schooler. My babies are growing so big and old and mature that it scares me. These are some of the things I have been struggling to balance. I know I am not the only one who has issues finding harmony between family and work and passions. It has been quite a journey for me to learn how to do just that.
I also struggle with self-confidence (a lot) it’s one of the reasons it took me so long to actually send something I wrote to a publisher (or even let anyone including my besties or Mr. Gloria read my words.) I mean for God’s sake I just turned 40, who in their right mind starts a career path like 'writer' at this ripe age? I even have problems calling myself a writer or God forbid an Author. An author is someone like Katie Macalister, like Patrick Rothfuss, Charlaine Harris. These amazing creatures who can string together words like popcorn while sitting on the pedestals I thrust them on. It isn’t me, awkward, uneven, plain old me. I am not that person, and being able to see myself that way is a real trial. It doesn't happen easily. The past month has been a real trial with, and on, my esteem, believing that I am good enough, that I deserve this is a daily struggle that I encounter. I try so hard to not be down on myself, to believe, but it is difficult.
The publisher has delayed Supernaturally Yours publication date by two weeks. Not a big deal I know (in my head I know) but my emotions immediately went to the “What did I do wrong?” “I’m not good enough.” “This is all a joke, I’m gonna wake up tomorrow and find it never happened.” Place. It took a lot of internal self-boosting talk and listening to Mr. Gloria for me to put those thoughts aside and keep going.
So I’ve avoided posting, trying to think happy and be happy and post happy and most of all trying to be gentle with myself. Finally I couldn’t ignore it any longer I had to blog. SO here I am, emotionally naked, letting you all know what I can’t hide from. I’m not looking for pity (I can give plenty of that to myself) but rather just wanted to show you all I am human. I also wanted to explain my absence so that no one thought I was ignoring them.
Wow reading this blog back makes me sound right certifiable – I swear I’m not. I get down, and today (this month) has been a down time. I will survive, and will perk up by the next time I write.
An incredibly long post and for that I apologize and hope everyone can forgive my blabbering on. I promise next one will be happier. To ask for forgiveness I will include a couple of pictures of me in Mijas Pueblo and Ronda in Spain. As I said, unreal views and unbelievable moments. That’s what I need to hold onto rather than the low points.
Tuesday, 16 September 2014
Cover Reveal!!
I am back from Spain and am desperately trying to get everything all caught up and back in order - so unfortunately I do not have a post for you today - but I didn't want to make you wait any longer so here is the artwork for Supernaturally Yours, to be released October 17th 2014.
And for those who have been wondering - here's the blurb:
Anna is your average small town girl, she works at a bookstore, likes to cook, she is quiet, klutzy, and unassuming -the girl next door.She is also a Supernatural Creature.Becoming a Zombie has brought her nothing but heartache, her family life, her love life even her self-esteem have been shattered as a result of her transformation.After sitting on the side lines of life for too many years trying to not attract attention Anna, with much badgering from her best friend Jenny, decides to take control and begin dating again.Unfortunately her foray into the world of Supernatural Singledom is met with disaster.Thrown into the proverbial arms of the one man who hurt her more than any other, by a psychopath bent on her destruction, Anna is forced to reevaluate her opinion of Nathan.Much to Anna’s surprise the unbelievably hunky officer is not at all what she thought and she has a hard time keeping her hands off his delectable body.Their steamy chemistry is overwhelming as they discover that together they can find out and overcome the fiend who is behind the attempts on Anna’s life.
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