Robin Puelma's Blog - Posts Tagged "creative-writing"

You all have been AH-MAAAZING. Buying paperbacks on Amazon. Buying Kindle copies. Buying ALL THE COPIES AT VROMANS. And the list goes on and on. The retweets; the GoodReads entrances; the amazon reviews; the key surveys. It all makes my heart SO happy. And motivates me beyond motivation to keep. On. Writing. Keep on figuring out this social media nonsense. (Like SnapChat. Um. This was the hardest to start, but I think one of the most fun to use. Who knew?? RobinPuelma if you wanna follow the craziness.)

This self publishing journey is definitely that. A journey. I've been up; I've been down. I've cried. I've freaked out. But I'm beyond loving every second of it. It's mostly been so special to feel the love (cheesy, yes.) and see strangers mark my book as "to-read" on GR. At this point, I'm just thrilled other people are reading my words. It's up to you if you like it or not -- you may not. But you're reading it. And that's two thumbs up.

This week I've added an email updates form. That is, if you're interested in learning more about my writing process; my up coming books; my writing life; you name it. A bit of a behind-the-scenes right to your inbox, kind of thing. If that's your jam, I'd love it if you signed up on the main page. We'll get to know each other. And I'd really like that.

Until next time.
​xxoo

(A repost from my former wordpress blog.)
​
When I wrote The Naming of Colton Black, I knew right away that the character of Breslin would be based (loosely) on me. Her personality; her insecurities; her anxiety. All mine. However, her struggle to connect with her dad and his inability to show how much he loved her are the exact opposites of my relationship with my own dad. It was odd, writing so much of myself into Breslin but drawing on other experiences to create such tension between her and her dad.

True, no relationship is perfect. My dad and I both hate confrontation, so many of our resolutions have come through my mom. (Thanks, mom.) But we both love to laugh, write, encourage, pray, travel, spend quiet hours at home, stroll the streets of a busy city, reminisce, budget, listen, stay up late, sample Mexican food, maintain our privacy, hug, go to Disneyland, are highly sensitive people…and the list goes on. Much of who I am is because of the time and attention and love he gave me every. single. day. of my life.
​
The part that I pulled from then? The desperation to please the people I love. Including my dad. Breslin is desperate to please her dad. And she’ll do whatever it takes to do it–even put herself in danger and attempt something with little chance of success. But in a weird way, I know how she feels. No, my dad is never one to manipulate me into doing something for him. Ever. But I can’t help but want to please him. Isn’t that how we all are with someone? So desperate to make them proud of us. So desperate to do whatever it takes to gain their approval. Even put off discovering who we truly are apart from them.

It took me a long while to naturally separate from my parents. I’m attached to them. Like crazy. What they believed, I believed. What they liked, I liked. Maybe most importantly, what they didn’t like, I didn’t like. And so on. I respect them and their opinions beyond belief. But it finally dawned on me that it’s OK if I liked something different. Even something they didn’t like. It scared me, at first. Scared me into thinking that they would love me less, if I liked or thought something different from them. But of course, it wasn’t true. If anything, it helped reshape our relationship as adults. And that’s what I hope I conveyed in my story. Breslin needed to find herself a part from her dad. And once she did, she could happily reshape her relationship with him. In a healthy, loving, and independent way.

I knew when I read dystopian novels that things get ugly. Things ​have to get ugly. The Government has to inflict evil. People have to die. Viruses have to run rampant. Yada-yada-yada. The list goes on. So when I sat down to write my own dystopian beast, I had to decide something. Was I ready to write something so ugly?

More importantly, was I ready to make a statement about Things. Life. True, I never want to turn a book into something preachy. Not the place for it. But writing a dystopian novel means making a bit of a statement about the world around you. So I chose a theme. A theme I see running throughout our country. I won't tell you what it is--but I'll be interested to hear your thoughts when this manuscript is finished.

Which hopefully *crosses fingers and toes* is set to be published February 2017. *_*

So, as I've already announced, I'm working on the sequel to The Missing Crimoire. And loving it. After feeling frustrated every time I sat down to write, it's starting to feel good again. Fun again. I know that it's not always going to feel that way. BUT, it's so freaking awesome buddy-ing up with Luke, Gwen, and Wood again.

Since I'm still trying to stick to a February publish deadline (EK), I'm hoping to spend this week solidifying my three act outline; reintroduce myself to my subplots ; and prep as much as I can for the first draft.

Which I'll start on Monday the 18th.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

From then on out, I'll be madly trying to finish a first draft by October. A second draft by December. And finalizing everything by late January so I can publish this beast in February.

Um.

We shall see. I'll update you along the way (with some fun goodies, of course!). Aaaaand don't forget to sign up for August's newsletter -- there will definitely be some sequel-ness reveals happening in it :D

xoxo

Guys. Keeping things honest here. Because I never want life to appear perfect or more pretty than it actually is. While working from home as a freelance writer has its definite benefits, it's also got its lows. And I'm feeling some of them right now. Nothing big. Nothing anyone else who freelances doesn't understand. The money comes. And the money goes.

I should know by now. That this is one of those life lessons God wants me to constantly learn. That my income--my career--doesn't come from anything I do. It comes from him. I don't often write about my beliefs and such, since I want everyone to feel comfortable reading my posts. But when things like this hit, I don't ever want to gloss over them. And pretend that I'm something that I'm not.

I tend to view my earnings as mine. As my accomplishments. As my safety net. And as long as I'm earning x amount, I'm set. We're good. Life can go on. When small things fall by the wayside--like freelance jobs--and less is coming in each month, I have no one else to lean on but God. He knows I need to pay bills. He promises to provide. So. I wait. And trust. That he will.

And he always does.

That's the funny thing. It never comes in the way I'm expecting. Or in the time line I'd like it to be in. But he provides. Sometimes to the exact dollar. Nothing more. Nothing less. And that's all I need to remember.

Happy Friday, guys. Love that you're with me in this journey.

​xoxo

Today's the day! It's National Book Lover's Day, guys! Which means...

The Naming of Colton Black is now FOR SALE!

GAHHHHHHH!

What more can I say? Except THANK YOU! Today is a HUGE day for me -- not only because my second book is out (WHAT), but because you've been along for the ride, supporting me and loving me.

If you'd like to celebrate NBLD by purchasing The Naming of Colton Black, I will love you forever (all the heart eyes).

Head to Amazon to purchase the paperback or Kindle version or to Vroman's Bookstore in Pasadena or to their website to purchase the paperback as well.

With the release of this new book, I've got all sorts of goodies coming your way too. Starting with a detailed post about my book signing on August 24th. (FREAKING. OUT.) Plus, fun, new content to the site! EEK!

Until then, what do YOU plan on doing to celebrate National Book Lover's Day?

​xoxo

Ahhhhh. The feel of my fingers on the keys is as life giving to me as Spring is to nature. It's been too long. And yet, it's been just the right amount of time away. I've been able to unplug, enjoy precious time with family, and see how God truly wanted me to spend that writing break.

Verdict? With people.

I spent it with my parents and family first and foremost. And while health continues to be an issue with my Dad, God has showed up in amazing ways over these last few months. As he does. Always. We went on a trip to Vegas; Dad and I started our own book club; dinners and sleep overs and sweet times were had on numerous occasions.

I spent it with my friends. Having a clear calendar allowed me to say yes more. Yes to coffee dates. Yes to house visits. Yes to impromptu gatherings. Honestly, this has been such a blessing. God has given me some amazing friends, both close and far. And having the freedom to say yes has allowed for me to be truly encouraged by the women in my life. Weekly phone calls with my best friend; coffee dates in Pasadena with sweet ones and their babies; long texts late at night that encourage my soul; sleep overs; game nights.

Now? I'm not sure. I don't have a story idea. I didn't have a break through. I still feel a bit lost and creatively empty. But. It felt time to come back. It felt good. It felt right. It felt exciting. And honestly, I hadn't felt that until today.

So, here's to a new season of writing. Let's see what comes.

Love you, readers.

This is the longest I've ever gone without writing. Six months. Six entire months without putting pen to page, creating a new story, or editing an old one. I didn't journal. I didn't doodle. All I did was let my mind wander.

Sometimes, that's necessary. Sometimes, when I'm deep in a project, I can be so focused on an edit or a sentence or a period that I forget the creativity part of it all. That what drew me in to writing the story in the first place was imagining. Dreaming. Wandering. Observing.

I think one of my favorite things to do as a writer is observe. I am a nosey, eavesdropping observer in cafes, on street corners, in grocery stores, etc.. Wherever I am, I let my ears and eyes observe. (Don't judge. I bet you do this too.) It might be two people arguing in a tiny chic restaurant. It might be a family resembling a circus at a cafe. It might be nothing but the growing line of a Starbucks.

And while most of it is mundane, it feeds my soul. It reminds me that I create. That I create out of nothing. That I can take the mundane, the mediocre, the modest, and give it life.

Because that's really what storytelling is, isn't it? Taking the everyday and breathing new life into it? Most of the time, to me, that means a bit of magic. I can't help but want something fantastical to happen in every one of my mundane scenes of life.

So durning this break of mine, this six month break, I observed. I let my mind wander.

And now? I *think* I know who I want to write about. She's come to me a few times during this break. A sense of a girl. A strong girl who's not ready to let her insecurities break her. I've had no clue to anything else of her story. But, that's where now comes in.

Now is the time to create. To say goodbye to the slump and hello to the magic. Now is the time to meet my character and discover her story.

This is the longest I've ever gone without writing. Six months. Six entire months without putting pen to page, creating a new story, or editing an old one. I didn't journal. I didn't doodle. All I did was let my mind wander.

Sometimes, that's necessary. Sometimes, when I'm deep in a project, I can be so focused on an edit or a sentence or a period that I forget the creativity part of it all. That what drew me in to writing the story in the first place was imagining. Dreaming. Wandering. Observing.

I think one of my favorite things to do as a writer is observe. I am a nosey, eavesdropping observer in cafes, on street corners, in grocery stores, etc.. Wherever I am, I let my ears and eyes observe. (Don't judge. I bet you do this too.) It might be two people arguing in a tiny chic restaurant. It might be a family resembling a circus at a cafe. It might be nothing but the growing line of a Starbucks.

And while most of it is mundane, it feeds my soul. It reminds me that I create. That I create out of nothing. That I can take the mundane, the mediocre, the modest, and give it life.

Because that's really what storytelling is, isn't it? Taking the everyday and breathing new life into it? Most of the time, to me, that means a bit of magic. I can't help but want something fantastical to happen in every one of my mundane scenes of life.

So durning this break of mine, this six month break, I observed. I let my mind wander.

And now? I *think* I know who I want to write about. She's come to me a few times during this break. A sense of a girl. A strong girl who's not ready to let her insecurities break her. I've had no clue to anything else of her story. But, that's where now comes in.

Now is the time to create. To say goodbye to the slump and hello to the magic. Now is the time to meet my character and discover her story.

I've been discouraged lately. With writing, creating, blogging. That jealousy monster is creeping in again and I don't like it. Not only does it rob me of my own happiness, but it also kicks me down and keeps me from creating.

Anyone else deal with this?

I'm trying to come up with ways to combat this. Besides stuffing my face with cake, that is. (Though, that is an excellent temporary fix.) I've got a few in my back pocket that I always go to, that I'll share in a minute. But what honestly is the hardest for me is actually doing them. I can let discouragement rule. Start to mope. Drown myself in self pity. But when I actually apply my list of "Discouragement Fighters," I come out a different person. Stronger. Ready. Excited.

So, here's my list. I'd love to know what yours are!

1. MUSIC -- my first go-to to shed discouragement is always music. Putting on a playlist or album that takes my mind away from the noise helps me refocus. Currently, I'm loving Sarah Bareilles' "Waitress" album. Odd? Maybe. But Bareilles wrote all the music and lyrics to this musical about a woman rediscovering herself. As I listen to the songs, I almost feel as if I am this woman she sings of. Soon, I'm more excited about creative possibilities than swimming in my own discouragement.

2. DRINK -- stepping away from my laptop to make a cup of coffee or tea is one of my favorite things to do. There is something entirely comforting about filling the kettle / coffee maker; waiting for the waiter to boil / the coffee to drip; taking that first, delicious sip. I find if I can step away and take part in a small tea/coffee ritual, I become lost in the comfort of creating and shed the discouragement I was feeling minutes before.

3. READ -- I think when discouragement hits, it's mostly due to others' success. At least, for me it is. (Which sounds so selfish. But, I am human.) And it instantly makes me doubt my skills. If I take a step back and reread some of my pieces, I find myself reminded that I am talented. That I am a writer. That I am worthy of this craft. I get lost in my characters, in my prose and am excited to return to whatever project I was working on instead of dwelling in discouragement.

Share some of your discouragement fighters below!