FRIDAY FX: Have a Literary Nosh When You’re Feeling Bookish

Hello, people of the world!

Before we begin, might I make a small request of you? Something has been going wonky with WordPress for the last few weeks. Some of my posts, primarily the recent Writerly Wednesday posts, aren’t getting seen. I’m not sure if the stats are accurate or not, but I’m curious if people are getting the email notifications or seeing the links to the posts on my Facebook and Twitter feeds, as before. So, kindly blink twice if you’re getting the posts alright, or better yet, please contact me, if you can. It’s one thing if people are viewing the posts and just not commenting or liking them, but from what I’m seeing, the posts aren’t even reaching you guys like they did a couple months ago. Please and thank you!

On with today’s post.

Last week, I wrote about an opportunity for a summer internship program at a literary agency. While it did change my initial writing plans for Camp NaNoWriMo, and April, in general, I sent in everything on Easter Monday. Part of the submission requirements for the internship application was to provide a writing sample in the form of a book evaluation. We were allowed to pick a book, published in 2018 or later, in the genre we’d like to focus on, and to match my MG Fantasy WIP, I went with kidlit.

Given the limited desire to foray into the sometimes unmasked civilization, I decided to check for options online. I was perusing a half a dozen or so ebooks because that meant I’d get them instantly rather than waiting for a certain online store to accidentally ship my books to a different address–again.

Then it occurred to me to tap a resource that was right in front of me–and by “in front of me,” I mean, on the internet and some clacking of the keyboard and clicks to the right “in front of me.”

I’m loathe to admit that I haven’t picked up a book, physical or otherwise, in such a long time. The content I’ve read in the last few years were from medical websites and journals, non-fiction writing craft books or news and entertainment articles on the internet. But to grab a book for leisure and immerse myself in a different world? To escape from the insomnia, the stress and anxiety, from the frickin’ global pandemic? How in the frilly heck did I manage to go so long without reading a good book?

Right! Sure! But hang on a sec. It dawned on me that since being stuck in this geographical location for over a year now, I haven’t gotten myself a library card yet. *facepalm*

Onto the interwebs I searched and when I got to the public library’s website, I was tickled to discover that one could apply for a digital library card and instantly get access to a world beyond the daily doldrums.

I was a kid in a candy store. So what if most of the latest titles were already checked out? I now had the opportunity to discover new authors, especially writers of color and, for the first time in forever, I was excited about reading again.

Off I went and, naturally, checked out four ebooks. You know, to give myself a chance to dabble. Also, I always like to have options. Although I had only a few days to read a book, I checked the page count and figured I could get it done. Each book was an average of 200-300 pages. I gave myself the first two chapters to decide if I wanted to continue or not with that title. I ended up inhaling two books in as many days. I paused on the other two to keep going with my Camp NaNo plans already in progress.

Mind you, there were times that I might have been pulled out of the story because my Writer Brain activated. However, it’s interesting to read books again after years of learning how to become a better writer. You’re able to identify the writer’s specific tools, the word choices, the mechanics, that stitched their tale together. Unfortunately, it was for that same reason I was pulled out of the initial story I thought I’d review. The protagonist was young Asian girl who wanted to become a famous writer. And while I understand that precocious youngsters can have an expanded vocabulary beyond their years, I found myself unable to enjoy her world because she, an 8 year old, was talking like a 15 year old. It was too much an ask of which to suspend my disbelief.

What makes these analyses so important to me now, as a writer, is that I can see what my contemporaries are doing, what’s working and what isn’t, and how to craft my own stories to ensure that I effectively relay the desired message to the readers.

I’ll get back to that book, in question. I still have the third of the four to finish. When the craziness of April has settled, I’ll likely pop back on here and share some book reviews.

What books do you enjoy reading? If you’re also a writer, do you like to only read in your genre or prefer to dive into other realms of existence? Has the continued joy of reading helped or hindered your writing process? I’d love to know the hows and whys behind why writers read.

For now, I will continue to read in my downtime. I’d forgotten what a joy it was to do so. And being an avid reader will undoubtedly help me to become a better writer.

Stay creative, stay weird, be kind to yourself and others.

Until next time,

T out.

FRIDAY FX: Then It Sneaks Up On You

Feliz cumpleaños, Pedro!

Welcome to the inaugural Friday FX post. Considering I’m writing this amidst a fan-freakin’-tastic ocular migraine, SPOILER ALERT, these posts share the good, bad, and ridonkulous aspects of my writing journey. It’s cathartic for me. Maybe you’ve had similar incidents happen and can relate to the struggle. It’s a reminder that while writing can be an isolating endeavour, we, as writers, are never alone.

For instance, the voices in our heads keep us company, whether we want them to or not.

Let’s skip the opening crawl and jump straight to

Episode V: The Self-Sabotage Strikes Back

In my last Writerly Wednesday post, I talked about my strategy for Camp NaNoWriMo this month and emphasized the importance of flexibility when making writing plans. Some wouldn’t dare admit this, but there is life outside of writing, even if it’s currently socially distant and somewhat monotonous.

I haven’t been this excited to be writing in a long time. We’re talking years. Years of my life when I just stopped writing altogether. Of course, there were many things going on, at the time, but I never thought I would push writing so far out of reach. I tried to get past a major illness by diving into work. I didn’t give myself the time to process what had happened. My life had gone sideways and it took a physical, mental, and emotional toll on me. Sure enough, that’s when I decided it was okay to compartmentalize. Oof. The whole hindsight thing is a kick in the teeth sometimes, no?

The last five years or so have been a broken roller coaster ride. The haphazard twists and turns, the sudden stops with me teetering over the edge, just waiting for the world to drop from under me. I’m finally on the meandering road to recovery, but I’ve taken active steps at proper self-care this time around.

I can write about galaxies far, far away, create brand new places where my characters live, yet the “anywhere but here” stories that I write are what anchor me to this world. Writing is as fundamental to me as nutrition and breathing, yet I deprived myself of it for so long.

I thought it would be great to be back in the saddle again. I went in all hyped up, determined to take on anything that came my way.

But, it’s been more like this:

And with far less flourish.

It’s one thing to take note of an intriguing idea as soon as it comes to you. However, when an idea pops into your noggin right before regularly scheduled bedtime, as a bonafide insomniac, I advise against indulging the sudden motivation to do a deep dive on the internet at 3am. You know how that goes, one click turns into several and you’ve gone so far down the rabbit hole, not even the rabbit can keep up.

Saw a couple opportunities that looked intriguing. A submission to a literary agent and a potential internship. Click here, scroll there. Then I found myself on Twitter sifting through hashtags like #mswl, #querytip, #amquerying, and #literaryagent. Click here, link to submission guidelines, link to submission deadlines.

Okay, I got this. Just switch around my Week 1 and Week 2 plans to give myself more time. Oh, I gotta do this thing, too? No problem. First 20 pages? Sure. Query letter? Got it. Synopsis? Yup.

Hang on, didn’t I want to rework my characters, infuse more of my heritage and folklore into the narrative? The base is pretty straightforward. That’s good. But with these revisions, there are those aforementioned flourishes that have yet to be expanded upon, nuanced, to dress up the now naked tree. Research. Gotta do more research. Yeah, it’s fiction, I have leeway to write what I want, but I’d like some ties to the familiar, so the folklore needs to be the right fit, but which ones? Which concepts work best with my plot line? So, it’s pretty much a complete overhaul and I’ve got two weeks. Less, if we’re considering the other thing. Right. That deadline’s sooner. And there’s a writing sample that involves evaluating a book. So I need to read a book in the next couple of days. And the resume. That’s gonna be fun given the last five plus years of absolute chaos.

And…

Yikes.

So, here we are, two days into a new month of crippling anxiety–I mean, the continuing adventures of this writing life. I had a nice talk with a trusted confidante and they reminded me that just the act of making these goals and taking those steps forward is already a win. I overwhelmed myself, overloaded and fried my circuitry, as it were, coming up with all sorts of scenarios and I shut down. It’s probably what led to my only getting a couple hours of sleep lately and most likely the precursor to the migraine, among other things.

I need to remember to breathe, then write. Maybe include some food and water, every now and then. I need to point out that a year ago today, I was slowly adjusting to a new normal–my recovery process that coincided with a global pandemic. Two years ago today, I was still suffering from agoraphobia. If I take the time to appreciate the progress I’ve made since fully committing myself to live my passion and return to writing, I’ll be okay. I can overcome the self-sabotage, one word at a time.

Stay creative, stay weird, be kind to yourself and others.

Until next time,

T out.