Ginger Scott's Blog - Posts Tagged "coming-of-age"
The Importance of Being Strong Women
Truth is, it took me years to write "Waiting on the Sidelines." And I think maybe that was for the best -- I wasn't ready.
I knew I could tell a story. I've told lots of them -- all non-fiction. Through my journalism career, I have been honored to tell the stories of others, sometimes during their darkest hour. I have been their funnel to share their emotions, strength, their passions, their fears, their hopes with the world. But there was always that certain something deep down telling me I had more.
I had the guts, if you will, of "Waiting on the Sidelines" written for a long time. I knew what the crux of the story would be. I could write a great love story, full of passion and romance. But as I matured, and as I watched my friends' daughters endure the difficulties that come along with being a girl growing up, I started to uncover the purpose and the power my story could hold.
Girls can be cruel to one another. So very many of us are. And it's not something that stops when we're 18, when we're 22, when we're 40. We all too often tear each other down. I don't know how we learn it (I suppose it's a trait we pass down, though often non-admittedly). But the damage we do to one another is unforgivable.
I have a few teenaged girls in my life that I consider dear friends, God daughters and family. And I've watched them love the boy that would break their hearts and be bullied by the girl who would get the boy. And that's when it hit me -- this...THIS was what my story needed to center on.
To say I am proud of "Waiting on the Sidelines" would be a profound understatement. Yes, writing books is my dream. And yes, I've taken that step now (and intend to continue, full steam ahead). But more than anything else, I hope this book gets read. Because I think it's something us women (our daughters and the teenaged girls we still are or remember being) need to read. And I think we need to talk about it. And then I think we need to start respecting each other just a little more. We're sisters, and together we are mighty.
I knew I could tell a story. I've told lots of them -- all non-fiction. Through my journalism career, I have been honored to tell the stories of others, sometimes during their darkest hour. I have been their funnel to share their emotions, strength, their passions, their fears, their hopes with the world. But there was always that certain something deep down telling me I had more.
I had the guts, if you will, of "Waiting on the Sidelines" written for a long time. I knew what the crux of the story would be. I could write a great love story, full of passion and romance. But as I matured, and as I watched my friends' daughters endure the difficulties that come along with being a girl growing up, I started to uncover the purpose and the power my story could hold.
Girls can be cruel to one another. So very many of us are. And it's not something that stops when we're 18, when we're 22, when we're 40. We all too often tear each other down. I don't know how we learn it (I suppose it's a trait we pass down, though often non-admittedly). But the damage we do to one another is unforgivable.
I have a few teenaged girls in my life that I consider dear friends, God daughters and family. And I've watched them love the boy that would break their hearts and be bullied by the girl who would get the boy. And that's when it hit me -- this...THIS was what my story needed to center on.
To say I am proud of "Waiting on the Sidelines" would be a profound understatement. Yes, writing books is my dream. And yes, I've taken that step now (and intend to continue, full steam ahead). But more than anything else, I hope this book gets read. Because I think it's something us women (our daughters and the teenaged girls we still are or remember being) need to read. And I think we need to talk about it. And then I think we need to start respecting each other just a little more. We're sisters, and together we are mighty.
Indie Authors and Midnight Oil
Good thing I have always been a bit of a night owl. When I finally got my act together and wrote the book I had been harboring in my heart for years, I needed to burn quite a bit of midnight oil. But the creative part is nothing compared to the marketing life of an indie author.
Not wanting to ever forget the blood, sweat and tears that gets me to whatever place my road leads, I thought I'd document the anxieties, projects, posts and whatnot that come with self-publishing. And if my posts happen to help the next author looking for help and guidance, then I am honored to pay it forward any way I can.
1. Pushing the publish button is just the beginning. I was pretty sure I had things lined up when I finally selected my launch date and sent my manuscript off into the cyberlands of Amazon's self-publishing aerospace. And I did have a pretty good head start. Facebook fan page, check. Twitter transformation, check. Goodreads account set up, check. Talking points, graphics and a thick (albeit not thick enough) skin...check, check, check. But just as I have learned from working on both sides of the fence in journalism and public relations, you have to constantly feed the beast. If you want to push your hard work out to the world, beyond your closest circle of friends, you need to make some noise, waive your freak flag, if you will. Set up is just what it sounds like: set up. Then comes the marathon.
2. Test it, try it, move on. This whole indie author thing is new for me. My journalism work was always already in a proven and read publication. Getting someone to read something they have no reason in the world to even know exists is another story. So, I'm trying anything and everything (at least once). I'm throwing a launch party -- look for posts and wrap-ups on that on my facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/GingerScottAu...). I'm trying to pay attention to this blog, and use it for education, engagement and maybe a little pot-stirring in the future. I've committed to try Kindle's Select program for 90 days before I post my book to iBooks and Nook. The jury is still out on how well this works, but I will be scheduling some great promotions through it in the coming weeks (look for those announcements soon). So just be open to trying new marketing roads, there are hundreds out there and every single project requires a unique mix.
3. Finally...breathe!I am sure this is true for most indie authors out there. Getting your book in the hands of strangers, and then maybe catching the attention of an agent, is the dream. It's such a vibrant and, let's face it, obsessive dream that it starts to interfere with sleep, thought and relaxation. I have found I can become so focused on my daily to-do's that I often forget to sit back and enjoy the ride. I've made it this far and have accomplished goals I thought seemed impossible. Before I launched my book I reached out to a few of my favorite authors, many who found success through the same indie road I'm on. Some wise words from author Katja Millay (Sea of Tranquility) stood out and ring in my ears on a daily basis. She told me to be sure to enjoy every moment and not get caught up in the stress of it all. So, while I'll admit to falling off of the stress wagon a few times, I will say I am trying damn hard to heed her advice.
With that, I think I'll start right now. It's a beautiful day outside, and I haven't read for my own personal enjoyment in weeks. I plan to do so starting now.
Not wanting to ever forget the blood, sweat and tears that gets me to whatever place my road leads, I thought I'd document the anxieties, projects, posts and whatnot that come with self-publishing. And if my posts happen to help the next author looking for help and guidance, then I am honored to pay it forward any way I can.
1. Pushing the publish button is just the beginning. I was pretty sure I had things lined up when I finally selected my launch date and sent my manuscript off into the cyberlands of Amazon's self-publishing aerospace. And I did have a pretty good head start. Facebook fan page, check. Twitter transformation, check. Goodreads account set up, check. Talking points, graphics and a thick (albeit not thick enough) skin...check, check, check. But just as I have learned from working on both sides of the fence in journalism and public relations, you have to constantly feed the beast. If you want to push your hard work out to the world, beyond your closest circle of friends, you need to make some noise, waive your freak flag, if you will. Set up is just what it sounds like: set up. Then comes the marathon.
2. Test it, try it, move on. This whole indie author thing is new for me. My journalism work was always already in a proven and read publication. Getting someone to read something they have no reason in the world to even know exists is another story. So, I'm trying anything and everything (at least once). I'm throwing a launch party -- look for posts and wrap-ups on that on my facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/GingerScottAu...). I'm trying to pay attention to this blog, and use it for education, engagement and maybe a little pot-stirring in the future. I've committed to try Kindle's Select program for 90 days before I post my book to iBooks and Nook. The jury is still out on how well this works, but I will be scheduling some great promotions through it in the coming weeks (look for those announcements soon). So just be open to trying new marketing roads, there are hundreds out there and every single project requires a unique mix.
3. Finally...breathe!I am sure this is true for most indie authors out there. Getting your book in the hands of strangers, and then maybe catching the attention of an agent, is the dream. It's such a vibrant and, let's face it, obsessive dream that it starts to interfere with sleep, thought and relaxation. I have found I can become so focused on my daily to-do's that I often forget to sit back and enjoy the ride. I've made it this far and have accomplished goals I thought seemed impossible. Before I launched my book I reached out to a few of my favorite authors, many who found success through the same indie road I'm on. Some wise words from author Katja Millay (Sea of Tranquility) stood out and ring in my ears on a daily basis. She told me to be sure to enjoy every moment and not get caught up in the stress of it all. So, while I'll admit to falling off of the stress wagon a few times, I will say I am trying damn hard to heed her advice.
With that, I think I'll start right now. It's a beautiful day outside, and I haven't read for my own personal enjoyment in weeks. I plan to do so starting now.
Making Local News!
I don't have much to say, which is probably well and good as my iPad typing skills are fairly poor and that's my only device on hand. But, I just wanted to share the great story my local paper did on my book. I have been in the Glendale Star twice in my life now: this appearance and my high school state volleyball championship... Go Patriots!
Check out the story: click here
Check out the story: click here
Win a FREE Kindle Copy of Waiting on the Sidelines
I'm starting the countdown to book 2 early with a fun giveaway of a few Kindle copies of my book. Check it out on my website at www.littlemisswrite.com and enter for a chance to win. If you already have a copy, enter for or tell a friend! Enter by July 3 so reading can start by July 4!
My apologies for the abundant use of exclamation points. I am just excited to see so many people interested in more Nolan and Reed.
More posts coming soon!!!
-Ginger
My apologies for the abundant use of exclamation points. I am just excited to see so many people interested in more Nolan and Reed.
More posts coming soon!!!
-Ginger
Teaser for 'Going Long' - Sequel to 'Waiting on the Sidelines'
I'm excited to share the first teaser from "Going Long," the sequel to "Waiting on the Sidelines." Reed and Nolan's story continues as they navigate the challenges that come along with a long-distance relationship in college and the growing pains that come along with truly growing up.
It was important to me to stay true to the coming-of-age genre with the first book, giving you an honest look at every heartbreak and pivotal moment in Nolan's life as she matured from naive tomboy to woman in love. In "Going Long," you'll get to see the rest of the story unfold from both Reed and Nolan's perspectives. Here's a small taste to hold you over until the fall, and I'll be sharing more before the book's planned launch sometime in October.
Reed's perspective:
Nolan and Sarah were waiting on the leather sofa at the main entrance to the athletes quarters, their feet folded up in their laps. The girls had grown closer in college and even more so when Sienna moved in with her boyfriend. I was glad that Nolan had someone like Sarah to look after her. She’d told me off a time or two, and I’ll be honest, it made me nervous. I wanted that same toughness at Nolan’s side when I wasn’t around.
“Well, how’d I do?” I asked, kicking at Nolan’s folded legs a little.
She stood up, pulling her shirt down over the top of her shorts, always modest and still so damned unsure of her beauty. Chewing at the inside of her cheek a little, she put her thumb to her lip like she was considering something. “Hmmmm, I don’t know, Johnson. I’d put you at about eighty percent,” she nodded, acting with disappointment.
“Eighty percent, huh?” I said, rushing her a little and swinging her over my shoulder to carry her through the doors. Her giggling started then, the best sound in the whole damn world. “Eighty percent?”
I took off running, leaving Sarah behind. Nolan knew exactly where I was going as she started slapping at my back and threatening me that I’d ‘better not.’ When we got to the main fountain at the center of campus, I pulled her back over my shoulder and held her in my arms as I pulled off my shoes with my feet.
“Reed Johnson, don’t you dare!” she screamed as I stepped over the concrete edge and waded in the water, sliding closer and closer to the main spray. Her screams and giggles only egged me on.
“You want to rethink that B minus, Noles? Eighty percent? You sure about that?” I said, freezing in place, just one more step away from the full effects of the waterfall. I looked her in the eyes and watched as she flinched, just for a minute, and then finally did it.
“OK, maybe I was being a bit unfair. You were really more of an eighty-two,” she said, baiting me.
Our eyes locked, I pushed my lips tight into a disapproving grin and shook my head. “Oh, now you’ve done it,” I said, stepping forward and stopping us underneath the force of the fountain’s shower. Nolan wasn’t mad. Sure, she screamed and smacked at my chest as the freezing water poured over us. But my playfulness never rattled her. If anything, it had the opposite effect, which I was counting on as she reached around my neck and pulled my head to hers for a forceful kiss. Her hands grabbed at my soaked T-shirt, pulling me closer. I let her body slide from my arms so I could wrap my fingers through her hair. It was a good thing Trig and Sarah reminded us we were in public.
“God, you two. It’s bad enough that I don’t have a boyfriend, but do I really have to be the uncomfortable third wheel on our way to the bars, too?” Sarah broke us up.
“Sorry, Sar. I get carried away, what can I say,” I said, grinning.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, reaching for Nolan’s hand to help her climb over the edge of the fountain. But I wasn’t about to let her go. I grabbed her back in my arms and dunked her once more, pushing my forehead to hers as she slid her hair back out of her eyes and blinked the beaded water from her lashes, laughing. I swung her back and forth in my arms as I carried her back to the dry side, the tips of our noses touching and my lips tingling just watching her bite her lower lip. Unable to take it, I had to kiss her once more, the soft and slow kind I did when I forgot others were watching or when I wanted everyone to know she was mine. And she was…she had my whole entire heart.
It was important to me to stay true to the coming-of-age genre with the first book, giving you an honest look at every heartbreak and pivotal moment in Nolan's life as she matured from naive tomboy to woman in love. In "Going Long," you'll get to see the rest of the story unfold from both Reed and Nolan's perspectives. Here's a small taste to hold you over until the fall, and I'll be sharing more before the book's planned launch sometime in October.
Reed's perspective:
Nolan and Sarah were waiting on the leather sofa at the main entrance to the athletes quarters, their feet folded up in their laps. The girls had grown closer in college and even more so when Sienna moved in with her boyfriend. I was glad that Nolan had someone like Sarah to look after her. She’d told me off a time or two, and I’ll be honest, it made me nervous. I wanted that same toughness at Nolan’s side when I wasn’t around.
“Well, how’d I do?” I asked, kicking at Nolan’s folded legs a little.
She stood up, pulling her shirt down over the top of her shorts, always modest and still so damned unsure of her beauty. Chewing at the inside of her cheek a little, she put her thumb to her lip like she was considering something. “Hmmmm, I don’t know, Johnson. I’d put you at about eighty percent,” she nodded, acting with disappointment.
“Eighty percent, huh?” I said, rushing her a little and swinging her over my shoulder to carry her through the doors. Her giggling started then, the best sound in the whole damn world. “Eighty percent?”
I took off running, leaving Sarah behind. Nolan knew exactly where I was going as she started slapping at my back and threatening me that I’d ‘better not.’ When we got to the main fountain at the center of campus, I pulled her back over my shoulder and held her in my arms as I pulled off my shoes with my feet.
“Reed Johnson, don’t you dare!” she screamed as I stepped over the concrete edge and waded in the water, sliding closer and closer to the main spray. Her screams and giggles only egged me on.
“You want to rethink that B minus, Noles? Eighty percent? You sure about that?” I said, freezing in place, just one more step away from the full effects of the waterfall. I looked her in the eyes and watched as she flinched, just for a minute, and then finally did it.
“OK, maybe I was being a bit unfair. You were really more of an eighty-two,” she said, baiting me.
Our eyes locked, I pushed my lips tight into a disapproving grin and shook my head. “Oh, now you’ve done it,” I said, stepping forward and stopping us underneath the force of the fountain’s shower. Nolan wasn’t mad. Sure, she screamed and smacked at my chest as the freezing water poured over us. But my playfulness never rattled her. If anything, it had the opposite effect, which I was counting on as she reached around my neck and pulled my head to hers for a forceful kiss. Her hands grabbed at my soaked T-shirt, pulling me closer. I let her body slide from my arms so I could wrap my fingers through her hair. It was a good thing Trig and Sarah reminded us we were in public.
“God, you two. It’s bad enough that I don’t have a boyfriend, but do I really have to be the uncomfortable third wheel on our way to the bars, too?” Sarah broke us up.
“Sorry, Sar. I get carried away, what can I say,” I said, grinning.
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, reaching for Nolan’s hand to help her climb over the edge of the fountain. But I wasn’t about to let her go. I grabbed her back in my arms and dunked her once more, pushing my forehead to hers as she slid her hair back out of her eyes and blinked the beaded water from her lashes, laughing. I swung her back and forth in my arms as I carried her back to the dry side, the tips of our noses touching and my lips tingling just watching her bite her lower lip. Unable to take it, I had to kiss her once more, the soft and slow kind I did when I forgot others were watching or when I wanted everyone to know she was mine. And she was…she had my whole entire heart.
My Favorite Parts - Waiting on the Sidelines
I shared this over the weekend on my author Facebook page. It's a little tidbit from "Waiting on the Sidelines" that happens to be one of my personal favorites. You see, I'm a big fan of anticipation. I love those moments right before, and I am a sucker for the almost. While writing "Waiting on the Sidelines," there were a few chapters that I would think about all day and just get giddy with excitement over knowing that I would get to dive in at night and move my characters through something special.
A moment.
Well, for me, this is one of those moments. The kind you wish you could write for your own life, how you wished it happened...and if it did for you? Hell, I'm jealous. I plan on sharing a few other 'favorite parts' over the next few days in my countdown to my cover release for "Going Long." And soon, I'll be sharing something big from "Going Long" -- before it's big launch in October.
So, for those of you who've read "Waiting" I'd love to know if this was one of your favorite parts, too. And if not, please let me know one that is. I'd love to dig it up and share it with others on Facebook. Thank you all for reading! You're dream-makers, just so you know :-)
Excerpt from "Waiting on the Sidelines"
Reed just stared down at me, shifting back and forth from eye to eye because we were so close. The music and screaming from other swimmers in the background started to fade out. It was the same sort of feeling I got when I was about to pass out, but I knew my head felt fine. Reed leaned his head forward, pressing his forehead to mine, closing his eyes for a bit. He just sort of spun us, ever-so slowly in a circle, with our lips breaths apart. My lips were tingling, almost numb, but not from the cold water. I bit my bottom lip to try to stop the twitching and keep myself from shaking. I felt Reed shift, getting an even stronger grip on me, somehow holding me closer, which didn’t seem possible.
I was frozen, the tip of my nose touching Reed’s, as we swayed slowly in the water to some sappy pop song about standing in the rain. I knew the song, it was one of my favorites. But ask me the words right now, and I’d only be able to spit out gibberish. I bit my lip again, licking it a little from this unbelievable, beautiful suspense. And then Reed’s lips were touching mine. Not hard, but so incredibly softly. It was barely a kiss, but it was still the best one I’d ever have. He tilted his head up, just barely, taking my top lip between both of his and leaving them there for a few seconds, sucking me in faintly so I felt the tips of his teeth.
When he pulled back, he leaned his face to look at me, still cradling me in his arms. I opened my eyes slowly and couldn’t hide my smile. I wanted to cry, the type of cry from a release when you’ve waited so long for something. He just reached up and brushed water from my face with his thumb and stared at me until finally breaking our silence. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he smiled gently.
“You have no idea…” I paused. “Well, there’s just so much you have no idea about, Reed.”
A moment.
Well, for me, this is one of those moments. The kind you wish you could write for your own life, how you wished it happened...and if it did for you? Hell, I'm jealous. I plan on sharing a few other 'favorite parts' over the next few days in my countdown to my cover release for "Going Long." And soon, I'll be sharing something big from "Going Long" -- before it's big launch in October.
So, for those of you who've read "Waiting" I'd love to know if this was one of your favorite parts, too. And if not, please let me know one that is. I'd love to dig it up and share it with others on Facebook. Thank you all for reading! You're dream-makers, just so you know :-)
Excerpt from "Waiting on the Sidelines"
Reed just stared down at me, shifting back and forth from eye to eye because we were so close. The music and screaming from other swimmers in the background started to fade out. It was the same sort of feeling I got when I was about to pass out, but I knew my head felt fine. Reed leaned his head forward, pressing his forehead to mine, closing his eyes for a bit. He just sort of spun us, ever-so slowly in a circle, with our lips breaths apart. My lips were tingling, almost numb, but not from the cold water. I bit my bottom lip to try to stop the twitching and keep myself from shaking. I felt Reed shift, getting an even stronger grip on me, somehow holding me closer, which didn’t seem possible.
I was frozen, the tip of my nose touching Reed’s, as we swayed slowly in the water to some sappy pop song about standing in the rain. I knew the song, it was one of my favorites. But ask me the words right now, and I’d only be able to spit out gibberish. I bit my lip again, licking it a little from this unbelievable, beautiful suspense. And then Reed’s lips were touching mine. Not hard, but so incredibly softly. It was barely a kiss, but it was still the best one I’d ever have. He tilted his head up, just barely, taking my top lip between both of his and leaving them there for a few seconds, sucking me in faintly so I felt the tips of his teeth.
When he pulled back, he leaned his face to look at me, still cradling me in his arms. I opened my eyes slowly and couldn’t hide my smile. I wanted to cry, the type of cry from a release when you’ve waited so long for something. He just reached up and brushed water from my face with his thumb and stared at me until finally breaking our silence. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he smiled gently.
“You have no idea…” I paused. “Well, there’s just so much you have no idea about, Reed.”
Waiting Gets a New Look!
Waiting on the Sidelines will always be my baby. I love that book with all my heart, so I feel a little bit like I'm sending it off to the prom in this post. The book is getting a little cover refresh. Nothing too crazy, but I think it gets a little more of the mood in the mix. I'm working on getting it updated on the Goodreads entry (thank you, Librarian status friends!). But in the meantime, here's a little taste. You can also find the new cover on Amazon, Smashwords, and very soon on B&N, Apple, Sony, Kobo and more (seems it takes a little time to ingest).
I hope you all like it as much as I do! I'm busy working on my new project, but should be at a place where I can reveal the title soon...and then maybe just a little tease. Thank you all for reading...I'm honored!
I hope you all like it as much as I do! I'm busy working on my new project, but should be at a place where I can reveal the title soon...and then maybe just a little tease. Thank you all for reading...I'm honored!
What a Year!
I did a lot of scary things this year. Like most of us, I make a lot of promises to myself, usually right about this time of year. Lose the baby weight (my kid is 10, by the way), learn to deal with stress, learn to better deal with stress, slow down and live in the moment--I've actually managed to keep most of these promises, though some are works in progress.
But there was this one thing that I wrote down every year and carried with me on scraps of paper in the depths of my wallet: Finish my book. I know this is one of those "scary things" that a lot of people carry around, but for some reason, my personal note got heavier every year I wrote it. It wasn't the writing that scared me. I'd done that. I'd done that a lot, my byline showing up in magazines, blogs, newspaper front pages. There's nothing filled with more pressure than a deadline breaking news story set to hit print in a few hours on the front page for a million-plus subscribers.
No, the writing was the easy part. For me it was the rejection. From those amazing people I read and admire and from the reading public in general. Every year I tackled my promise to myself to the ground with "it's impossible to get published" and "why go through all of that just to write something for your family and friends?" I smothered my promise--my dream, really--until it seemed so damned impossible that I almost quit writing it on scrap paper every year.
Almost.
You see, I have one of those kick-ass husbands who is one hell of an optimist. Don't get that confused with being delusional--he's very much a realist. He read the blogs with me, read the success stories of some of my favorite authors, and we talked about the odds. We talked about the odds A LOT! And when we were done, we decided that putting something personal, my book, out there for the public wasn't hard to do, and it might even get a few looks from strangers, but probably not anything crazy. And at the very least, nothing would be lost.
So, I talked an extremely savvy PR friend into joining my crazy cause, picking her brain over lunch, over text, over email, late at night, during the drive into work--all to make sure I wasn't aiming for impossible. And, of course, because she's such a super savvy PR person, she tried to talk me into moving my bar a little higher.
But I kept it where it was--I kept it comfortable, attainable and real. It's become a joke between the two of us, and I'm a little embarrassed to even write it now, but I started this whole thing a year ago with the hope that 17 people (they had to be complete strangers) would read my book. My friend's goal was much higher, and my husband's was somewhere in the middle.
We all missed the mark. And we missed it by a landslide.
It happened slowly at first, but over those first few weeks, I watched my number come and go, and my husband's next. My friend's took a little longer, but we've left that one in the dust, too. And it's because of you--amazing readers. I underestimated you, and I'm sorry. I was scared. Afraid you wouldn't notice, afraid you wouldn't care. But you did, and you do. I read your passion about books in your blogs, on your Goodreads posts, on Twitter and Facebook. And I pay attention.
And I read the stuff that's hard to take, too. The lumps. Ooooph, sometimes those are really tough. But I soak it all in. I read tips from fellow authors, and I read their reviews--especially critical ones of the books I truly love. Because I can learn from it--the good and the bad.
It won't change me. And I won't change what I write, or how I write. My tone, the emotion, the character depth, the detail--that's important to me, and if I messed around with my recipe, I would be disappointed in myself. And then I'd lose the whole reason I ever wrote my dream down on the scrap of paper in the first place.
But I will learn from it all. I already have. And I'll finesse, adding a dash here, taking away a dash there, doing my damnedest to deliver something that I'm proud of and you enjoy. Because I owe you so very much--more than you could ever know. You made something scary a whole lot less intimidating.
And it was the best resolution of my life.
Happy new year, to each and every one of you! I promise less quixotic sappiness with my next post, and instead a teaser for my next book--Blindness.
But there was this one thing that I wrote down every year and carried with me on scraps of paper in the depths of my wallet: Finish my book. I know this is one of those "scary things" that a lot of people carry around, but for some reason, my personal note got heavier every year I wrote it. It wasn't the writing that scared me. I'd done that. I'd done that a lot, my byline showing up in magazines, blogs, newspaper front pages. There's nothing filled with more pressure than a deadline breaking news story set to hit print in a few hours on the front page for a million-plus subscribers.
No, the writing was the easy part. For me it was the rejection. From those amazing people I read and admire and from the reading public in general. Every year I tackled my promise to myself to the ground with "it's impossible to get published" and "why go through all of that just to write something for your family and friends?" I smothered my promise--my dream, really--until it seemed so damned impossible that I almost quit writing it on scrap paper every year.
Almost.
You see, I have one of those kick-ass husbands who is one hell of an optimist. Don't get that confused with being delusional--he's very much a realist. He read the blogs with me, read the success stories of some of my favorite authors, and we talked about the odds. We talked about the odds A LOT! And when we were done, we decided that putting something personal, my book, out there for the public wasn't hard to do, and it might even get a few looks from strangers, but probably not anything crazy. And at the very least, nothing would be lost.
So, I talked an extremely savvy PR friend into joining my crazy cause, picking her brain over lunch, over text, over email, late at night, during the drive into work--all to make sure I wasn't aiming for impossible. And, of course, because she's such a super savvy PR person, she tried to talk me into moving my bar a little higher.
But I kept it where it was--I kept it comfortable, attainable and real. It's become a joke between the two of us, and I'm a little embarrassed to even write it now, but I started this whole thing a year ago with the hope that 17 people (they had to be complete strangers) would read my book. My friend's goal was much higher, and my husband's was somewhere in the middle.
We all missed the mark. And we missed it by a landslide.
It happened slowly at first, but over those first few weeks, I watched my number come and go, and my husband's next. My friend's took a little longer, but we've left that one in the dust, too. And it's because of you--amazing readers. I underestimated you, and I'm sorry. I was scared. Afraid you wouldn't notice, afraid you wouldn't care. But you did, and you do. I read your passion about books in your blogs, on your Goodreads posts, on Twitter and Facebook. And I pay attention.
And I read the stuff that's hard to take, too. The lumps. Ooooph, sometimes those are really tough. But I soak it all in. I read tips from fellow authors, and I read their reviews--especially critical ones of the books I truly love. Because I can learn from it--the good and the bad.
It won't change me. And I won't change what I write, or how I write. My tone, the emotion, the character depth, the detail--that's important to me, and if I messed around with my recipe, I would be disappointed in myself. And then I'd lose the whole reason I ever wrote my dream down on the scrap of paper in the first place.
But I will learn from it all. I already have. And I'll finesse, adding a dash here, taking away a dash there, doing my damnedest to deliver something that I'm proud of and you enjoy. Because I owe you so very much--more than you could ever know. You made something scary a whole lot less intimidating.
And it was the best resolution of my life.
Happy new year, to each and every one of you! I promise less quixotic sappiness with my next post, and instead a teaser for my next book--Blindness.
'Blindness' Cover Reveal
I'm so excited to share this with everyone. It's the 'Blindness' cover reveal! Book will be live in February - please feel free to shelve it like crazy now, though. I'll let you all know when pre-orders are up on Barnes & Noble and iBooks.
In the meantime, here's the cover and synopsis:
It takes a while to know who you really are. And when you lose your way, sometimes it’s hard to find it again.
Charlie Hudson was on the verge of figuring that out when her dad—the only parent and friend she ever had—died suddenly. She was barely 18, and she was alone. So she went for easy—playing life safe, running away from a home that harbored nothing but bad memories and challenges and loving a man who would take her away from it all forever.
It’s funny how chance takes over when you need it most. And that’s exactly what brought Cody Carmichael into her life. A former motocross super star, Cody was now happy to be living the blue collar life, spending his days finishing up school and his nights under the hood of some classic car, just trying to keep everything his father taught him alive. Cody and Charlie were living parallel lives, until they finally collided. And the moment he smiled at her, Charlie knew he was the one who would change everything. But was she willing to take the risk?
Cody saw through it all. He saw her—all of her. But would letting him in be too much to take? And if Charlie let herself love him—really love him—could he love her back?
In the meantime, here's the cover and synopsis:
It takes a while to know who you really are. And when you lose your way, sometimes it’s hard to find it again.
Charlie Hudson was on the verge of figuring that out when her dad—the only parent and friend she ever had—died suddenly. She was barely 18, and she was alone. So she went for easy—playing life safe, running away from a home that harbored nothing but bad memories and challenges and loving a man who would take her away from it all forever.
It’s funny how chance takes over when you need it most. And that’s exactly what brought Cody Carmichael into her life. A former motocross super star, Cody was now happy to be living the blue collar life, spending his days finishing up school and his nights under the hood of some classic car, just trying to keep everything his father taught him alive. Cody and Charlie were living parallel lives, until they finally collided. And the moment he smiled at her, Charlie knew he was the one who would change everything. But was she willing to take the risk?
Cody saw through it all. He saw her—all of her. But would letting him in be too much to take? And if Charlie let herself love him—really love him—could he love her back?
Darn You, Matthew McConaughey
I've been wanting to write this blog post for a while. I've started it and stopped it in fits, completely deleted it a few times, started again and, well…here we are.
I love telling stories. It's what drew me to journalism in the first place--and I've told some pretty unbelievable stories of some real people who have lived some fantastical lives. I've told of their survival, their demise and their love. And when I was in the thick of my journalism career, notebooks full of quotes for the next magazine deadline, I thought to myself, "Wow…this is amazing. I've done this! But…I still want to do more."
You see where I'm going with this. Matthew McConaughey. I waited up on Oscar night knowing he was probably going to win just to watch his speech. I didn't really expect to have it stick with me for weeks. Honestly, I just wanted to see him say "Alright, alright, alright." (Which he did, and yes, we can all agree it was totally bad-ass!)
But damn him. He had to go and get all kinds of poetic. Yes, he may have been a little more quixotic than some care for, but the point of what he said was pretty potent: Be your best self, and then move the bar and be better.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be Judy Blume. When I was a journalist, I wanted to be Curtis Sittenfeld. Most recently, I want to be Colleen Hoover. All amazingly talented women authors who I admire, respect and aspire to. And it's good to have inspiration. It's good to consume art made by those you look up to and to let it guide you and educate you, maybe even influence you. But then…then there's Matthew McConaughey.
In case you missed his amazing speech, he basically said he always chases himself, 10 years in the future. Chase myself, 10 years in the future. Hmmmmm…. that seems….hard. That seems scary, with all sorts of possibilities for disappointment. And failure, as I've shared before, scares the daylights out of me.
I've thought about this for days--alright, weeks, hence the start-and-stop of this blog post. I'm always chasing someone else, because I feel like they are so amazing--better, cooler, more talented, on top...pick the positive adjective and insert it here. But, oh you wise Matthew McConaughey, you--in the world according to Matthew, I don't have to be anything other than whomever I end up being down the road. And I'm bound to have learned a thing or two, accomplished something, and become a better writer than I am now.
I've written three books, and I'm enormously proud of them. I've learned from feedback--both the positive and the tough-to-take. I'm in the thick of finishing my forth novel, my most personal and emotional story yet. And this year, I took a leap, finally making good on that promise to myself to see what it's like to be a writer full-time. I bet me 10 years ago would be in awe of the me I am right now.
So what the hell…I'm going to start chasing myself...10 years later. I'll probably chase Colleen Hoover for a little while, too. You can't make the shift to full-on Matthew overnight. But maybe, just maybe, one day I'll feel worthy of running alongside her.
I love telling stories. It's what drew me to journalism in the first place--and I've told some pretty unbelievable stories of some real people who have lived some fantastical lives. I've told of their survival, their demise and their love. And when I was in the thick of my journalism career, notebooks full of quotes for the next magazine deadline, I thought to myself, "Wow…this is amazing. I've done this! But…I still want to do more."
You see where I'm going with this. Matthew McConaughey. I waited up on Oscar night knowing he was probably going to win just to watch his speech. I didn't really expect to have it stick with me for weeks. Honestly, I just wanted to see him say "Alright, alright, alright." (Which he did, and yes, we can all agree it was totally bad-ass!)
But damn him. He had to go and get all kinds of poetic. Yes, he may have been a little more quixotic than some care for, but the point of what he said was pretty potent: Be your best self, and then move the bar and be better.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be Judy Blume. When I was a journalist, I wanted to be Curtis Sittenfeld. Most recently, I want to be Colleen Hoover. All amazingly talented women authors who I admire, respect and aspire to. And it's good to have inspiration. It's good to consume art made by those you look up to and to let it guide you and educate you, maybe even influence you. But then…then there's Matthew McConaughey.
In case you missed his amazing speech, he basically said he always chases himself, 10 years in the future. Chase myself, 10 years in the future. Hmmmmm…. that seems….hard. That seems scary, with all sorts of possibilities for disappointment. And failure, as I've shared before, scares the daylights out of me.
I've thought about this for days--alright, weeks, hence the start-and-stop of this blog post. I'm always chasing someone else, because I feel like they are so amazing--better, cooler, more talented, on top...pick the positive adjective and insert it here. But, oh you wise Matthew McConaughey, you--in the world according to Matthew, I don't have to be anything other than whomever I end up being down the road. And I'm bound to have learned a thing or two, accomplished something, and become a better writer than I am now.
I've written three books, and I'm enormously proud of them. I've learned from feedback--both the positive and the tough-to-take. I'm in the thick of finishing my forth novel, my most personal and emotional story yet. And this year, I took a leap, finally making good on that promise to myself to see what it's like to be a writer full-time. I bet me 10 years ago would be in awe of the me I am right now.
So what the hell…I'm going to start chasing myself...10 years later. I'll probably chase Colleen Hoover for a little while, too. You can't make the shift to full-on Matthew overnight. But maybe, just maybe, one day I'll feel worthy of running alongside her.
