My dog doesn't understand selfies

...and fair enough, I'm not big on taking a bunch of pics of myself either. But I thought, hey! I should take a pic of my dog and I together because he's cute and that would be a nice pic.

So, I sat next to him on the floor and held out my phone.

Problem number 1: Benny didn't realize he was supposed to look at my phone.

Problem number 2: He was so excited I was sitting next to him, he kept sniffing and trying to lick me.

Problem number 3. He became so confused as to why I was sitting next to him BUT NOT LOOKING AT HIM that he started howling. I tried to reassure him by telling him it was okay and to look at my phone. He lunged, I'm trying to hold him back, he's howling, and I'm not even looking at the camera.


Which means we ended up with this gem:

And if we zoom in:

The confused horror is palpable.

It's tough being a dog.

Competition makes us stronger

I will always try to help people--yes, even if that means freely giving away tips and tricks and HARD WON lessons I've gleaned from my journey along the way to people who are in the same industry I am.

My *gasp* competition.

You don't see it as much in the writing community, but the music business can be a horrifically cutthroat place. There's a predominantly hoarderish attitude toward n00bs and how they must 'pay their dues.' I've always hated that bitter attitude.

But I've never understood keeping knowledge to yourself. If I can give some advice that saves someone from having to learn something the hard way like I did? You're damn right I'm going to tell them. Every time. Whether or not they take that advice isn't up to me. That's on them.

Why would I arm my competition with knowledge that could make them better?

That reminds me of a scene from the movie GO! (which, if you haven't seen, WATCH IT! It's one of my all-time favourites.)

The dad's talking to his son about how in his day, you got to the top by being greater, stronger, smarter than the guy who was already there. And now that's changed. NOW you just wait for the guy at the top to fuck up with ineptitude and BAM! You're on top.

IF it's a competition, I want to beat the best. (I do not think it's a competition, though it is a competitive industry.)

If I was on a BATTLE OF THE BANDS, I don't want to win because the best band's van broke down on the way over and I win by default. I want them to be there playing their asses off, making me sweat and smile and sing my fucking heart out, too.

When I'm playing pool with someone, I HATE winning because they scratch and sink the 8 Ball too early.

Just like the movie BRING IT ON, I want to win knowing that I have to bring my A game against another amazing team.

I don't want to win by default. I don't think I'm the best. I know with every book I write, I improve. I shed old habits. I hone my language. My drafts get neater. I compete against myself to be better than I was last year, last month, last week.

And I read something someone else writes, and I flail with delight at their skill. I smile, I wail, I want to be better so maybe my words can make someone feel the way their words just made me feel.

When you start thinking you're The Best, you're getting complacent, and saying you have no more room to grow.

I saw this video and it reminded me that competition makes us stronger. When we see the amazing talent that's out there, and realize we don't have to beat other people--we just have to try to be the best version of ourselves that we can, then we're all winners.

Bookmobile! Like the Batmobile, but more exciting!

I grew up in a very small, rural community. Okay, that's not true. I actually grew up on a farm, and had to travel to *get to* a very small, rural community. And take a bus from there to get to my school.

My elementary school was very small and, sadly, the library was tiny. BUT we had this amazing thing called, The Bookmobile!

The Bookmobile was basically a huge RV that had been lined with shelves, and filled with books. It would show up every couple weeks and BLOW OUR MINDS.

Crammed full of books we hadn't read yet, it was a magical place for a voracious reader like me who had basically rampaged my way through the shelves at school and NEEDED MORE THINGS TO READ.

I thought that Bookmobile driver was a hero. Honestly, I’m pretty sure we all thought that the driver OWNED all the books and was letting us borrow them from his private shelves. We didn’t question why an adult had so many children’s books; we were too busy grabbing all the Berenstain Bears and Little Miss books we could get our hands on!

Such a small thing, new books to read, made a huge difference to our lives. And it still means the world to me. Waiting (somewhat) patiently for the next book in a series I love, knowing it’s On Its Way is almost as exciting as reading the book itself. Almost. Let’s not be silly.

There are so many authors out there producing new and exciting things for us to read, and suddenly I’m out there too, pouring my heart into the keyboard while words come out of my fingertips.


I’m not a kid climbing the stairs into the dark hall of the bookmobile anymore, but I feel just as excited – only now mine is the book someone might take off the shelf, or one-click.

I can’t tell you how good that feels. How HUGE that feels.

I can only hope that you’ve gone for one of your dreams as well, and made it a reality. Don't wait or put it off any longer. Work on it for even five minutes a day.

The Top 5 Things Star Wars Taught Me About Love

5. Making someone jealous by kissing someone else is tacky. And gross. And can have unforeseen consequences. THAT’S YOUR BROTHER, LEIA! *shudders*

4. Love and passion can be FRUSTRATING.

3. Bad boys can be delightful.

2. But a reformed bad boy is even hotter. (And turnabout is fair play).

1. The best thing Star Wars taught me? True love goes without saying.

The Little Things

Little things can be the difference between a day that's more disgusting than the scent of a salmon's vagina, or happier than a rainbow unicorn contact juggling crystal balls!

In honour of The Little Things, here are some happy ones of mine that make my day:

-Googling what I'm sure is a completely idiotic question, and not only has someone already asked it, but it's already been ANSWERED! ('Why do powdered doughnuts taste cold?')

-FINALLY finding that earworm song that's been driving me nuts for months when all I had were three words from the chorus.

-Getting to my destination at the same time the song I'm listening to ends.

-When an item I really needed happens to be on sale and I get the LAST ONE!

-When someone asks me a tricky question at work and I actually know it!!!

-Putting a book on hold at the library and even though the book is new and hot I'm the first on the list!

-Craving something ridiculously specific for supper, and having EVERY. SINGLE. INGREDIENT. Without having to shop first!

-Checking out at the supermarket, or anywhere, and the price is even. $20.00?! KICK ASS!

-Finishing a book/movie/tv series and NEEDING TO TALK FEELINGS and my friends have JUST finished it as well so we can discuss it freely without worrying about being Spoilery Motherfuckers!

My First Celebrity Crushes

Malcolm from The Best Laid Plans is a sexy rocker, though not necessarily a celebrity. But that’s okay because there are plenty out there to fall for. Good, bad, or just because we didn’t know any better, our first celebrity crushes can say a lot about us. Here are my first four.


4. Jack T. Colton from Romancing The Stone.

It’s not even that I think he’s that hot. But there’s something about Jack T. Colton that captivated me. He was mysterious, heroic – when he wasn’t being a thieving little magpie – and he rescued Joan Wilder when she needed it. Sure, it wasn’t all butterflies and daffodils, but he was *exciting* and that was what counted. In fact, Romancing The Stone is probably the reason I wanted to be a writer when I grew up.




                                                   




I saw it and thought that that is what writers did! If you haven’t seen that 80’s classic, GTFO of here and watch it!





3. Johnny Castle from Dirty Dancing.

He was the bad boy who needed rescuing. He was a DANCER.









He had creative insults for the douche Robby. Helping him and hooking up with Johnny made Baby reclaim her name, stand up to her sister, become a woman, grow up, AND she learned to dance! BOOM! FRANCIS IS WOMAN! I thought that was a pretty perfect experience when I saw the movie for the first time when I was fifteen. Maybe it was really that I wanted to BE Baby, and less that I wanted to BE WITH Johnny. Maybe it was both. :)













2. The Goblin King, Jareth from Labyrinth.







I mean, nobody puts Baby in the corner, but Jareth had that sexy contact juggling thing – AND he sang to Sarah. (I am well aware that Swayze had a song on the Dirty Dancing Soundtrack. But he didn’t sing it TO Baby, which was probably a good thing to mitigate my already raging crush). And he wasn’t BOWIE in riding pants – I mean, um, BOOTS.













1. And here’s where everyone is going to laugh at me so hard that their vaginas turn into outies. Because my very first celebrity crush? Dick Van Dyke from Mary Poppins.











I WAS 4 YEARS OLD! Give a kid a break! It wasn’t a sexual crush, I was too little. But I remember thinking he had a very nice smile and he seemed like he’d be a good time. He made things come to life!











He had cartoon friends! Plus, he had an outrageous accent. And he sang and danced and we all know how I feel about men who are musical. ;)







Who were your first celebrity crushes?


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Ambition is trying to kill me

I've been called a passionate person. Intense. Impulsive even. I'll wear those snug little shoes and not think a thing of prancing a mile in them.

But once in a while, those qualities come together in a shitstorm of ambition, laying me out.

Oh, it starts out innocently enough. A song, a movie. A random interaction with a stranger. The interest of self-improvement.


I'll think, 'Hey! I should TOTALLY learn a new language. Knowing the names of my fingers and toes in Norwegian isn't useful enough. I should learn a language! But fully!'


And then I try to decide WHICH language to learn.


'I do love opera. Ooo the Italians in particular! I know a little already from singing those songs, so why not learn Italian? GENIUS! Oh, wait. Except in terms of being able to communicate with other people, Italian is sort of... niche. Maybe something broader would be better! Something like... Mandarin? Yes! Oh, no. I don't ever plan on actually GOING to China. So maybe not. We get a lot of Mexican Immigrants - maybe I should learn Spanish! And Spanish is close to Portuguese, and I know those songs in Portuguese! Yes! OR I could learn Norwegian and Dutch as a tip of the hat to my ancestors! I still have family in Holland and Norway! How cool would it be to learn the languages, and go there for a visit?! YES! Oh, but that's niche again. Le sigh. HEY! I already know some French! I could just carry on with that! It's practically cheating since I took it in school! Yes! But I'm not particularly DRAWN to French.'


Which makes me say FUCK IT, I'll just learn ALL THE LANGUAGES!

Only, I never quite seem to get around to actually doing it because in the meantime, another idea will creep up behind me, an evil minion sent by ambition.

*writes 'The End' on 8th manuscript.* Hey! I've written ALL THE THINGS. *orders 37 books from the library to catch up on TBR List that grew while I was in the writing cave*


Wait a sec. Now that I have time, maybe I'll work on my music! *writes lyrics* Yes! This is amazing! *goes to make the song* DAMN IT! My vision has surpassed my ability. If only I could play ALL THE INSTRUMENTS, I'd be able to get what's in my head out into the world! YES! I already play some guitar, and I HAVE a violin. I'll start with those two. Oh, and the bass. Crap, programming drums electronically sucks. I should just learn that too - it will make my life SO much easier.'


But those things NEVER happen the way I intend. I SEE what's happening, but am powerless to stop it!

I want to be better! I want to do it all! AND THERE'S NOT ENOUGH TIME! Oh, man, all the things I will never get around to doing haunt my steps like an unfortunately rancid fart, surrounding me with the stench of failure and shame. Failure because I've spectacularly failed at meeting my goals.


Sure, I get things done. But not all the things I wanted. *snivels* And I'm not one to half-ass things, so it gets overwhelming when 37 books arrive in for me at the library, all on intensely technical music theory geared towards general, bass, and guitar - because I never bothered learning theory. Oh, I can sight read, and I played piano when I was eight, but my theory book and I came to an understanding back then: I would NOT learn it, and it would NOT get ripped into tiny tiny pieces. Everybody wins!


Everybody except PRESENT TAMARA! Because Past Tamara?

Because of you, and your partner-in-crime, Ambition, this week I'm supposed to learn three languages, read nine novels, read and learn five books of music theory, do an online course, write forty pages, hit the guitar hard - and then the bass or violin - not sure WHICH will be first, edit two manuscripts for other people, figure out the music to two songs you came up with lyrics but no music for, come up with lyrics for that melody you shouted at me at four AM, and go to work.


And try not to hack my lungs out because clearly you didn't plan on me catching the flu this week.


Are you TRYING to kill me?


Screw it. I'll get to it all NEXT week instead.

Spoilery Motherf*ckers

Dear Writers,

A blurb is NOT a synopsis.

A synopsis tells us what happens.

A blurb should give us enough information to make us WANT TO KNOW what happens.

It's the difference between running into the bedroom naked, or showing up in sexy lingerie, making them desperate to see what's underneath it.

Naked's hot. But there's no mystery. If I already KNOW what's beneath the (book OR bed) sheets, you're being a SPOILERY MOTHERFUCKER!

This goes for readers - and reviewers - too. DON'T go through the plot and summarize it in your own words, and give away the ending. Don't waste words on summing up the book - it likely has a blurb in the review, or at the top of the page for the reader to see if they are interested. It IS possible to review things without giving the plot away! I promise! THINGS CANNOT BE UNSEEN. Way to kill the mystery.

I started reading a series that had a metric SHIT TON of books in it. I had read over ten books. A patron came into the library and had gotten the newest one - she was about 4 books ahead of me as I'd only started a few months before, and had a lot of catching up to do. She was like, 'Have you read it yet?' I was like, 'No! So PLEASE no spoilers!' She smiled and replied, 'No spoilers. She's still working at _____. Still hasn't chosen between the two love interests.'

If you do this, I hate to break it to you, but 1. THAT IS A SPOILER! and 2. YOU ARE A SPOILERY MOTHERFUCKER!

You can be a spoilery motherfucker just by asking an ill thought out question. You notice someone watching tv, or reading a book. 'Oh, have they found out he's the father yet?'

-_-

SPOILER!

I realize I sound OCD about this, but I am HYPERSENSITIVE to spoilers. If I know I'm going to read a book, I won't even read the blurb on the back, because all too often they give too much away and I can figure things out. I also won't watch previews to movies I know I'm going to see. Same reason. The previews used to entice. Now they give it all away.

Leave a little mystery. Make me work for it. Don't thrust your things in my face, all out there and revealed. I want to discover the inner workings for myself.

Spoilery Motherfuckers not only ruin it for their friends, but they ruin it for themselves. Because we hate them.

Only you can prevent Spoilery Motherfuckery. 

Interview with Kendall Grey!

I interviewed Kendall Grey over on the Hot WIP's and Sassy Chicks Blog!

Check it out! (And if you haven't read anything by her, you are missing out!).

Your chest hair is offending me, Fatty.

Where are the plus sized MALE models? 

And where’s the outrage at the unrealistic ideals thrust upon men by the media?

And before you bitch at me about how it’s SO not the same thing that women have to face, and have had to face, I KNOW. It’s different. And yet, people are still suffering because of this. Feeling inadequate, suffering from body image issues and low self esteem. 

I don’t care if it’s a man or a woman suffering – the pain isn’t greater because of someone’s sex. Eating disorders in men compared to women, are about one case in men to every three in women. Not equal, but when you consider that far fewer men than women seek treatment for this, it’s quite alarming. One man in one thousand in Canada has Anorexia. 

And it’s not just the sculpted muscles that everyone expects from the men they see on t.v. or movies, or book covers. 

I recently received a thank you from a reviewer, because the male model on my debut novel, The Best Laid Plans, has chest hair. CHEST HAIR now on the endangered list because a lot of women say it’s icky, and some take it to the point of offense. YOUR CHESTHAIR IS DISRESPECTING ME! 

Everyone needs to chill the fuck out about body hair. Body hair is natural. Pouring hot wax on your body parts, and yanking the hair out? Isn’t. Groom all you want, but don’t judge others by the areas they choose to, or not to, groom. 

I see a lot of women getting outraged at the unrealistic expectations thrust upon them by the media, and Hollywood's idea of beauty. 

But I don't see anyone raising a stink about men's beauty coming in all different shapes and sizes. There isn't much in the way of people telling MEN to embrace their unique beauty, regardless of their wibbly wobbly bits. Maybe I'm missing out on something, and people are championing EVERYONE feeling good about themselves regardless of their size. At the end of the day it's about HEALTH, not SIZE. 

And you're goddamned right that goes for men as well as women. 

Love who you are. Stop being so critical of yourself. You know who's scrutinizing every inch of you, judging you for an errant chest hair, or that ingrown hair on your neck, or the fact that your body weight isn't low enough for those six pack abs?

Assholes. 

But beyond them? No one. They're all probably worrying about hiding their own flaws from you to notice yours. 

I don't know why there aren't a whole bunch of plus sized male models. But I think it's worse that it took me this long to notice - and that most of you probably haven't thought about it either.

Interview with MINA VAUGHN! :D

1. HOW TO DISCIPLINE YOUR VAMPIRE had a few title changes. And SO HAVE YOU! Don't think I haven't noticed the delightful addition of wigs to your life. Do you have a favourite colour? Least fave?
 

Ok so my favorite two wigs are my platinum blond one with bangs, and my red "emo Ariel" wig. They're fun, funky and make the fabulosity factor skyrocket in my opinion. I think everyone should try going out one night in a wig and see how mysterious and awesome they feel.

I see what you mean. ;)

2. Domme, Sub, or Switch?  

 

Switch. I'm very moody.

 

3. William is a kinky vampire sub. If you were to write another supernatural kink, what other supe would you write? Is there one that you would NEVER write?
 

I've already written two, my dear. I can't say much, but there may be a Norse god involved, and there may be a really rad witch coming at folks sometime in the future. As for one I'd never write, I don't like werewolves. I just can't get into that. I don't know if it's the fur or the dog-ness about it, but it's not for me.

 

4. Mistress Cherry NEVER revisits a scene once it's done. Is that the case with these characters, or are there plans for a sequel?
 

I have ideas for more adventures for William and Cerise but there are no plans right now to write them. Never say never, though.

 

5. I am the ____ to your ____. ;)
 

Feaky, you are the wine to my cheese. Not saying you're whiny or I'm cheesy, just sayin' we're fancy and delicious.

 

6. Tell us something extra you want us to know about HTDYV. BREAK THE FOURTH WALL! Address the readers.
 

I want you to know that I want you to laugh. This is not meant to be a super-serious book, although there are angsty moments and a lot of sex. I care most about making people smile when they read it. :)

 

 

How To Discipline Your Vampire is available for Preorder  on Amazon. :)

And be sure to follow her on Twitter

 

New Adult is NOT a new Genre.

It's a CATEGORY.

While some people are still wondering why New Adult needs to be a "thing" those of us WRITING it and READING it are baffled as to why it isn't a given.

But I've been seeing the argument against it being a genre. And this is annoying, because NA is NOT a genre. It's a CATEGORY.

Here's the difference:

Categories are Picture Books, Middle Grade, Young Adult, New Adult, and Adult.

Genres are TYPES of books found WITHIN those categories. Fantasy, Thriller, Romance, Mystery, Historical Fiction etc.

Calling NA a genre is as incorrect as calling YA, or A a genre.  They are categories. Know the difference.

When patrons come to the library and ask for a book, the first thing I ask is what level/ they're at. A twelve-year-old might be twelve, but reading ADULT books. An adult might be forty, but likes the themes and situations in YA.

I find the CATEGORY, then the GENRE.

And for those still arguing that NA isn't needed, or a thing, just remember that it wasn't so long ago that YOUNG ADULT wasn't a category of itself! Would you say that YA isn't a needed category? It doesn't take long for things to pick up steam.

People saying, well, if it's ONLY for the 18-24 year-old readers/ people seeking that experience, it's too narrow, I'd remind you that Middle Grade stretches from about 7-12 year-olds, and YA from 13-18 year-olds.

Those arguments are invalid.

People have been writing NA for a while, calling it cross-over. Now that more people have said, hey! I'd LOVE to write/ read more of THAT, it's growing even more. Having it as a specific category unto itself just makes things that much easier for people seeking it out.

Sure, I could run around the Adult Fiction section of the library, hunting down books that fall into the NA category for patrons who request it, but it would be SO MUCH EASIER for ALL of us, if there was its own little section for people to peruse.

YA is new. NA is newer. Maybe in ten years there will be another classification for a NEW category none of us have thought of.

But why are you against it? There's a need for it, it simplifies things for those seeking it out, and why do you think it *shouldn't* be a category?

Emergency Update

A few more pics have been coming out as the water recedes. Still no idea the condition of the house, but here's a shot of the front door of the library. This is after the waters have gone down a couple feet.

That's the front door, we smashed the window out on the left side of the peak above the door, just to the left. You can't see it from here.

When we left, water was right up against those glass doors, about 2 feet. The tracks were under water when we were inside, and the waters hadn't peaked yet.

We have no idea how much higher it was as we haven't seen it first hand, and no one's been inside (to my knowledge). I don't know who took this pic, probably media they've let in, or rescuers. I'm not sure.

Here's another aerial shot of the library that was taken yesterday:

That brick building is the hospital. The library is the building on the bottom(ish) right, with the red truck in front of it. That bushy tree? I was standing just behind it on Thursday afternoon. The water is higher here in parts than when we were there, but has receded from the worst. When we were there, the tracks were covered with water, but the water on the left side of the library wasn't quite so high. There's a car parked to the left of the library that we were walking between it and the library toward the back, and there was no water between it and the library when we were there.


It was still an island though.


Scary shit.

The mayor addressed evacuees in Blackie the other night, and said they were aiming to have us back in town (to LET us back in town) for July 1st. But there have been gas leaks, and the military has taken over. People got arrested for trying to get back into town, and the more people get in the way and try to get back before the mandatory evacuation lifts, the less the police/ military/ first responders are able to focus on evacuating, and getting things back online.

I'm still dry, still alive, and am completely blown away by the amazing, and truly humbling, show of support from the writing community.

Thank you so much. I'm a writer, but words fail. Feelings don't, and know that I appreciate and am incredibly grateful to every one of you.

Especially my CP, and friend, Jessa Russo, who has organized efforts to get me, and keep me on my feet in this time when everything is so uncertain. Again, words fail.

Emergency

So, I walked to work today.

Got in, and a couple staff members weren't coming in because the river had started flooding.

A few patrons had been evacuated from the flood zone, and came to us to hang out. We never thought we'd flood. I brewed a pot of coffee, got cookies for the evacuees.

Then we heard that the hospital, and the elementary school down the street were being evacuated.

The water got higher, and crept toward us. They were diverting traffic in front of us for a while.

And then the diverting stopped because the water got too high around us.

We jammed the doors, moved everything we could off the floor, and shifted the books from the lower shelves.

By this time, we were walking through puddles.

I wanted to leave about an hour before the power went out. There was a dripping, then a quiet roaring, like a bunch of small waterfalls. It was the sound of water rushing into the heat registers on the floor.

The water kept rising on all sides. The library is on a slight hill, but the water was 3 feet deep in the shallowest places.

By the time I convinced everyone we needed to get the fuck out of there, the waters had risen too far, and we couldn't force the doors open.

None of the windows open.

We smashed open one of the windows, and the dude climbed out, cutting himself badly on his leg by his knee. I ran back inside the rapidly filling library, and grabbed the first aid kit.

And then climbed out of the window and I bandaged his leg. He's going to need stitches. Ironically, I was the only one who was unable to take the first aid course. Still. Yay team Tam.

*Update* The director of the library went in after the flood to take pics for insurance. That man was there at the door waiting when she came out. He said he wanted to thank me for saving his life. When he'd gotten to Urgent Care 5 hours later, they took the bandage off, and his leg started spurting blood. The doctor said if I hadn't bandaged him up the way I had, he wouldn't have made it. HOLY SHIT!!!!*

Then pulled the 90 year old patron out the window.

We were an island. One of the other librarians, and the summer reading coordinator waded across to go catch the firemen's attention, about three blocks away.

About half an hour later, they came on a forklift through 5 feet of water.

The 90 year old patron, and the guy with the cut leg rode inside. Another librarian and I rode on a stretcher on the front of the forklift.We rode back with choppers swinging through the air.

I was happy, because I knew my husband would be worried about me - I don't have a cell phone, and the telephones had all been out for some time.

But I wasn't home yet.

We were on the street I needed to be on - the street that NEVER flooded. Our town has flooded before. But our house NEVER floods - and 12th Ave NEVER floods.

It was under about 8 feet of water in some parts.

This is the vid my husband took while waiting for me. This is about two blocks away from my house.

Vid of Flooding

After waiting around at the H&R Block, we learned they were carrying people across the huge puddle - more like a lake - by a COMBINE.

So, we waited, and one came, and went. A boat came, took someone who was on oxygen away.

Helicopters were flying overhead the whole time. I learned later that some 150 people were evacuated from rooftops.

Another combine came. I climbed on, and made my way home. My street was dry. I thought it would be okay. I thought my house would be okay.

A knock at the door, and I was told we were under a mandatory evacuation order. THE WHOLE TOWN.

I grabbed what I could, waited for my husband to come home - he was still off waiting for me, and we missed each other in the drop zone - and tried to think clearly. By this time, I'd been awake for 8 hours, had slogged through icy flood water and rain for 3 of them, hadn't eaten for 8, and was running on adrenaline.

Roads are shut.

People are missing.

The army has been called in.

But we are okay. I'm safe at my brother's, for how long, I'm not sure. There's a different river here flooding as well.

I don't know where we'll go if we're evacuated from here. 

I don't know if my house is flooded.

My work is flooded.

Which means I don't have a job any more. At least not for a while.

If I'm not online much, that's why. I'll keep you updated.

<3

Update: my amazing CP and pitchmas cohort, Jessa Russo has set up a fund to help me out. By NO MEANS feel obligated to help, but know that I appreciate it so much to everyone who has helped. http://www.gofundme.com/3clip0

That time I quit writing (Giving up on your dreams)

Have you ever given up on a dream?

I don't mean you had a bad few days, and decided you couldn't do it, then when friends rallied around you with nice words of encouragement, and some pics of funny cats, a vid of a baby goat, you picked up that pen/ microphone/ paintbrush again.

I mean QUIT. Completely talked yourself out of your dreams, your passions - or let someone else talk you out of them?

I did.

I quit for over a decade. Oh, I had some help with those cliffs of insanity, where dreams are torn from our hearts and thrown over the edge to be drowned in our tears of defeat. Of resignation.

I remember the moment I gave up. It was the first day of school, I won't say *which* year in high school so as not to identify the teacher, and I shall refer to this teacher as the gender nonspecific 'they.'

They'd given us an assignment: Write a page about what you wanted to be when you were older. It was an assignment so the teacher could see how well we wrote, and could get to know us all a little bit.

I wrote that I was going to be a writer.

The teacher had written a little note on everyone's page, and passed them back the next day.

I read the note on mine, and in that moment I gave up.

Their note? 'I don't think you have what it takes to achieve big things.'

This wasn't a bit of a challenge - trying to get me to work harder and make it to spite them. No, this teacher just didn't like me.

Because of this comment I didn't write anything, other than a brief angsty poem phase at 18-19, for over ten years. I felt myself switch off. Here was my TEACHER, who told my mum that they were relying on me to bring up the class average, who was actively discouraging me from my dream. What was the point of trying?

The previous year, I'd written a 98% in English. That year with the Discourager, my final mark was in the 60's.

I don't know the moment I talked myself back into writing, but sometime in 2007 I began writing my first MS. While it needs a LOT of work before it sees the light of day, it ignited a spark inside me, growing brighter with every word I typed until it was bright enough for me to find myself again.

I recently finished writing my 6th Manuscript. December of last year, I signed with a fabulous agent from a fabulous agency.

While I wouldn't call myself a wild literary success, I am actively going for it, putting myself in harm's way as I go for my dreams, hoping I'm not dashed against the rocks.

Years later, when cleaning out a binder, I came across that high school assignment. I tore that note to pieces, but the words are still seared into my mind. They burn me to this day.

In the small town I'm in, I still SEE this fucking teacher, sometimes weekly. They don't recognize me. But I sure remember them.


I'd sort of had this plan, to dedicate my first published book to them. A sort of revenge by success. It was going to be as follows:


''This book is dedicated to the high school English teacher who told me I 'don't have what it takes to achieve big things.' HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW?!''


But you know what? That teacher doesn't deserve even the tiniest place in my book - not even as a 'fuck you.' They're so not worth it.

Don't let anyone take ten years from your journey. Whether it's for fun, or for profit, or to show those naysayers, you GO for your dreams. Grab on tight and don't ever let go.

Stop wasting time trying to talk yourself out of your dreams. Someone encouraged me to quit, and I let them.

I'll never do that again.

And you shouldn't either.

<3

Why CAPTCHAS are bigoted and you should turn them off

I get spam on my blog. I delete it. No Big Deal.

But I refuse to put up a CAPTCHA for two main reasons.

1. They're a pain in the nether regions. Is it just me, or are they getting harder and harder to read? Especially that stupid 'real life' house number, that looks as though it's seen through the eyes of a myopic zombie on a lightly foggy day. If I can't nail it in one, maybe two tries, I end up saying fuck it, and not commenting on your blog.

I'm not saying turn your CAPTCHA off. But TURN YOUR CAPTCHA OFF.

2. The second, and more salient reason I refuse to enable CAPTCHAS on my blog, is because they are BIGOTED, and extremely discriminatory.

You heard me right. I am protecting you now, making a stand, so that in a few years when Artificial Intelligence catches up to our Science Fiction level of expectation, it won't be horribly awkward for us all.

How are they racist against Artificial Intelligence? Because the CAPTCHA says THIS as a prompt:

Please prove you are not a robot.

*gasp*

BASTARDS! What about Robot Rights? What if it isn't a ZOMBIE apocalypse that hits, but rather an electronic uprising?! Maybe our new Robotic Overlords would have been benevolent dictators, but then they realize the blatant bigotry that has been in their faces the whole time, and their binary feelings are hurt and they decide to rain down lasery vengeance upon us all!!!

The answer is to turn them off NOW. It's not for me, no no. It's for ALL OF US. Really. *nods*

It's the polite -and the right- thing to do.

The Dreaded 'S' Word.

Synopsis? No, not that one. SUBJECTIVE.

I know, Writers. I know. I grew to hate that word with the fire of a thousand suns as well, so don't look at me like that. This is going somewhere. Bear with me.

(And boy does this apply to Pitchmas with Jessa Russo and I. We battle it out for our VERY different favourite pitches in the inbox, but MANY that we separately LOVE don't make it to the blog).


But back to SUBJECTIVITY.



We writers hear this word A LOT. Agents reply, saying that your MS isn't for them, but to keep querying because it's only their subjective opinion and someone may feel differently.



Time passes. Queries happen. Agents are signed. Then Editors say the same thing! Not right for *US* but it's a SUBJECTIVE industry, so keep submitting it!



If (when) you publish something, the READERS will get their delicious, grabby raccoon hands on your work.

And reviews will come pouring (trickling) in!



Some readers will love it.

Some will not.

Some don't leave reviews, so you won't know how they feel about your work.


Those great, 4 and 5 star reviews feel AMAZING, don't they? The readers who compliment you, and fangirl and squee all over your work, make you feel like you did something right. They make you feel like okay, I did something right! It was a tough road, but I got here! I made this MS, built this world, and people LOVE IT!

But wait...

What... what IS that...?

That just there.

1 STAR?! 1 FUCKING STAR?!

Okay, maybe that's a typo. CLEARLY they meant to click another place, and the cat headbutted their hand over, and they accidentally clicked on 1 Star instead of 5. Or 4. Definitely no lower than 3.




And then someone leaves a REVIEW with that 1 Star rating! So you click it, because surely there's been some mistake...

But there isn't. That person backs up their hatred for your book with cute little gifs that make you want to scream.

They HATE your characters. They LOATHE the love interest. THEY HATE YOUR WRITING!

Now. Your first reaction may be this:

Leading to this:

Which can transform into something even uglier:

(DON'T EVER RESPOND TO A NEGATIVE REVIEW. You're only going to look like an asshole, and you WILL eventually get over it, then feel even worse. But now people will have a reason to send nasty little gif parades your way).




Here's where that AWFUL, OVERUSED ASSHOLE of a word, SUBJECTIVE, can save the day.

No, really.

It's SO HARD to remember that books are subjective, art is subjective.

But here's how you can remind yourself of that.

Take yourself out of the equation.

Go to Goodreads, or another site where there are book reviews.

Look up a book you LOVE. Something that you would recommend to EVERYONE.

Now check out it's negative reviews. They'll be there. No, really. I know you LOVED it, but some people really couldn't stand it. AND HOW DARE THEY?! THEY are CLEARLY IDIOTS!


Now, I want you to look up the reviews to a book you absolutely DESPISED. Yeah, the one you'd gladly yank from the history of books if you could travel in time.

I want you to look at THIS book's 5 star, swoony, LOVED it, reviews.They'll be there. No, really. I know you HATED it, but some people think this book is the best ever written! HOW DARE THEY?! THEY are CLEARLY IDIOTS!


See what I did there?

People LOVE the books you HATE!

People HATE the books you LOVE!

WHAT is up with THAT?!

Can it really be subjective?

It's easier to see when you remove YOUR work from the situation. When you remove your Crit Partner's work from the situation.

So keep this in mind when you hear that S word. Remember that it REALLY IS Subjective.

 And remember: