Conference Hopping

Upon retirement from teaching I set aside some money to go to a variety of writing conferences.  I have been working on novels, but I thought it would also be interesting to investigate some other types of writing-short story, articles, and not poetry.  I already know poetry is not a genre for me.  By visiting other conferences and becoming familiar with other writing groups and authors, I hoped to see what types of writing appealed. 

I have done that. 

But I also have had an experience that showed me what I do not want to do and the kind of writer I will NOT be.

An old-fashioned snob.

I have done enough writing at this point to know that each writer has to find their own techniques and practices to produce their craft.  Some use typewriters or desktop computers or laptops or voice recorders or fancy new writing programs or there are few who still write their novels out long-hand.  Some writers embrace Blogs, Twitter, Facebook, and other social media.  And when it comes to publishing there are the agent-led traditionalists, there are the staunch self-publishers, and there are a growing groups of those who do a combination of both.  I support differences in styles and practices.

And there are those who are published, while I am not, that think they know what writing and publishing is in today's market.  And some of them are wrong.  The industry is changing and changing quickly and previously published writers, as well as those in the pre-published category, need to pay attention to what the writing market really is today and not what they want it to be.  If they don't they will be left behind.  Good writing is important and in a perfect writer's world it will be published and successful, but our world isn't perfect. 

Writers should take a good look around and find a path that works for them.  I don't think they will see it if they choose to put their head in the sand.  The world looks a lot brighter with your head up and looking around at all it has to offer.

School Start Thoughts

School started today and I didn't.

I am not quite certain how I feel about this.  I have been starting school each year for forty-three of my forty-eight years of life.  I know retiring at this time was the right decision for me and I am happy about it.


I have been in a setting where good schools act as a community.  Overall this is a good thing, but being a teacher takes so much of your life that at the end you aren't simply leaving a career, you are changing your lifestyle.  Drastically. This is probably true for many retirees.

Oh God, am I a "retiree"?  It sounds so much like the end.  I am going with "Leisure Enhanced Lifestyle Embracer."

I am blessed to have great friends who won't forget me nor will I forget them.  I do realize things will change.  I still will worry about my educator friends. Will the year be good for them?  Who is going to break up chick fights and tell all the girls to pull up the tops of their shirts and pull down the bottoms hems of their shorts?  Will teachers still feel comfortable using my old classroom as the shortcut to the library?  Most importantly, who is going to drive to lunch on workdays, now that my van isn't there?

Next week the students will come to school and I think I will feel unsettled about this too.  One gift I always gave myself was the joy the students brought to my life. I will still see my students, but I won't get to meet a whole new group each year.  That will be different.

I know that being a teacher of some sort isn't going completely disappear from my life.  It can't.  Teaching is a part of me.  And I think it will always be one of the best parts.

For now I am off to write.

The Magic dies!. One of my magic wishes.

I understand escapism.  That great feeling of being in another world where someone else is in charge of granting your every need is great when you are on vacation and I would be willing to pay for it.  I think everyone has those moments when we wish we had a magic wand or a Genie in a bottle to fix something or someone in our everyday lives!  Magic would be great on those days!

But I don't like the number of Paranormal books that have flooded the writing market!  I know, blasphemy.  Sorry all writers of the genre and there are a bunch of you.  And I get that you are published because of your talent and great writing too, when I am not.  But I am not a fan of the genre. Especially the number on the YA markets.

I would like to say it is due to age...48...if you must know, but I have never really been a fan of the make believe world as much as I was of a more realistic world.  And yes, I understand the definition of fiction is fake not real.  I've read through out my life, but never really cared much about talking rabbits or hobbits or magicians or aliens or lions, witches, or were anythings. And I still will get up and leave the room to keep from watching another of the numerous SciFi series my husband so carefully records.

So what have I always enjoyed?  The Box Car Children, my beloved Trixie Beldon, Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, and Lois Duncan were a few from my youth. I concede sometimes these were not the most believable.  But remember Shawn Cassidy's dreamy hair in the tv version.

Now I read numerous genres including romance, but still prefer the ones where the people live in "real" places and make "normal" amounts of money.  I sometimes question how all of those ex-Special Forces, Seals, and secret commandos have time for all these romances, but I still like it better when they choose to change their lives, than when someone morphs into a leaf or vicious badger or something.  Don't judge. You know somebody thought of using a badger at some point.

I just wish there were more books and the top lists had more representatives of more realistic people using their intelligence and skills to change and better their lives.  I think that is a much better thing for kids to pin their hopes on than being hopeful that something or someone is suddenly going to make their world perfect.  I am of the belief that hard work does that and that is a concept that seems to be skipping some people.  Popular series of a more realistic type do exist and YA readers are reading them, but I hope for the sake of the not-so-magic-believers, more are coming.  Realists need fiction too.

Mistakes A'Plenty

Today I am going to do two things.  Paint my bathroom and work on my book.  And I am going to do something I don't enjoy.  Make mistakes, mess up, and then work on cleaning up my messes the best I can.  In some cases I will simply do it over, move something around, or wipe it out entirely.  In painting, I am comfortable with the whole process. 

In writing, not so much.  And this has hindered me greatly.  I don't like to make mistakes in general. And those of you who know me and are now laughing. I do recognize that I make mistakes.  At times.  Having been a teacher and an English one at that, I try to edit and proofread and edit and proofread and proof what I send out some more. I have lived a life of people who take such joy in finding a typo or a mistake in spelling or grammar that an English teacher made, I just obsess over not making them. The fact that I revise and revise has been a bonus to me.  I can pretty much find the words for any message I want to send out to the world.  And they can be kind or deadly depending on my purpose.

But in actual novel writing, revision after revision after revision holds me back.  I realized this week during edits I was feeling unsuccessful, because I keep writing some scenes over and over. And over.  Then I realized there wasn't much different in the variety of scenes I was producing and the lack of forward motion was making me dislike what I was doing. I don't think rewrites will ever make me thrilled, but I can trust the process of utilizing critique partners and beta readers.  I am giving myself permission to send out something that I know is not perfect.  Oh the horror!

History truly is full of great things that happened because someone was willing to try something and make a mistake or several and then continue on.  I may not find the Americas like Christopher Columbus or invent Coke or penicillin or Post-its or even Silly Putty, but I can give myself permission to remember I am learning a new career and it is okay to make a few mistakes along the way.  Honestly, I already figured out how to make the mistakes successfully, I just need to master the acceptance and forgiveness portion of the process.

Go out and make some mistakes today.  You may be surprised by the end result of your efforts.

Almost, but not quite

This post is out of order.  Should be for Nov. 29, 2011.
So I have finished my novel but not my Nanowrimo word count. I have until tomorrow at 11:59. I have been cheating a little at Nanowrimo anyways. I think all 50,000 are supposed to be from my novel. But they aren’t. (My HeRA wordcount is from my novel.) There are two reasons why not all of my words for Nanowrimo aren’t just the novel. One: My Nanowrimo work is a rough draft and I have discovered that probably due to my history of writing, performing, and directing plays, that my first drafts look more like screenplays. (Maybe I need enter the Script Writing Frenzy in the Spring too…Nope trying to do that and keep up with school activities in the Spring would do me in!) Second: I have found a do a LOT of writing that isn’t part of my novel in a month. This probably explains why I have so much trouble writing a novel in the first place, but I decided maybe it was worth including in my Nano count, so I have. This year I included an original Readers Theater I wrote about Veterans and my students performed for them. I also included some of my blog entries too. I haven’t included the ones I wrote for our family blog and I haven’t included emails either. I could have reached 50,000 words a whole lot faster if I included emails for sure. And even faster if I counted my Facebook and Twitter words.
One thing that put me behind for Nano was I got sick with a bad cold in the middle. Of course it had to be right when my students were practicing the Readers Theater, but it meant that after I dragged myself home to and from work, I was simply too exhausted to write…or breath much either. And then I found myself desperately behind and I really wanted to give up. Again.
Giving up is something I have found myself doing a lot as a writer. It is ironic that all my life I have been told I have talent as a writer and the task of becoming a writer is taking years. Years. In all the time I have been truly trying to become a writer I have only written what I would call two completed novels and I finished one of those today. Neither is edited and polished enough to send out yet. That is my next goal, mind you. But I very nearly gave up on the novel I finished today. I wanted to. I wanted to let myself accept that I was going to fail to meet another deadline I had set for myself in my writing career.
Now my time trying to become a writer hasn’t been all wasted. I joined a great writing group. I learned to talk the talk even if I wasn’t always walking the walk. I’ve met many of my literary heroes. I have learned a lot about writing. And I have managed to teach some people about writing to.
And I have written. I started a fabulous murder mystery and if I ever get it done I know exactly what I want the cover to look like. I even know what my celebratory tattoo will look like when I make the New York Time’s BestSeller List. Please note, as yet I have no tattoos, but if I ever did make that list I would have tattoos. And I have such a large canvas I could put some great tattoos on it. Although, if I become well known enough to be on such lists, I will have enough money to drastically reduce this canvas…Hmmm. Oh, and then I wrote my first book. And I really like it. I think it might even sell if I can commit to making a final product. And I wrote some other things too over the years…Some programs for school, some obituaries, some funeral poems, and some decent year end Christmas letters too.
I also took on some leadership roles for my writing group and judged a number of contests.
But I haven’t taken the time I need to do what I do best. Create and revise and refine.
Other people come to me for help with all of these things and I do it for them. But I don’t do them for me.
And I need to. So I am. I started the day earlier this month when I decided that come hell or high water or family or school or sickness I was going to finish my 50000 words in 30 days.
47, 525…Onward.
Nanowrimo has made some things suffer around here. The good news for me at school is that I am caught up. I have my grades current and I know the next couple of week’s lesson plans. I even have a pretty good idea of what’s coming up on both the school and home calendars for December and I am looking forward to the events.
But I am making myself a list of all of the things I need to take care of soon.
First of all I am going to talk to my husband instead of saying however sweetly… I have to write. I don’t have time to talk to you right now.
Then I will complete the following in a random order.
Stop wearing my headphones everywhere I go including when I am alone in the house. I usually don’t have them on anyways. I just wear them to make people think I am not listening.
I’m going to watch the five Ellen shows I have DVR’ed and the Chopped Superstars Show from Sunday. I am not certain that is even the correct name, but I don’t have time to find the remote to check.
I am going to stop carrying all of our phones around with me when I move locations or computers. I haven’t wanted to take the time to get up.
I might actually cook something that isn’t microwaved or a Thanksgiving leftover.
I will visit the grocery store and purchase food to be eaten in our home.
I will buy the cat some cat food. We just ran out today and it will get ugly oh so very quickly.
I will purchase the Little Debbies I provide to my advisory students.
I am going to put air in the front tire of my van. I could have done it at anytime if I just turned on the compressor in the garage.
I am going to try to actually listen more to the grandchildren when they make their short visits. Sometimes grandma is thinking about people kissing or going to high school and only pretending to watch Kick Buttowski.
I am going to go outside and remove the pumpkins and gourds that make up our festive decorations.
I am going to wash my huge red sweatshirt material robe again. It’s been seeing a lot of action this past month.
I am going to figure out a way to get better insulation in my office. See clothing choice above.
I am going to take an inventory of what food is left in the cabinet and refrigerator. I may even check the expiration dates. I know some has to have been purchased in October!
I am going to discuss the Christmas wish list with husband, mother, children, and grandchildren. The cat gets nothing. He has been a little naughty.
I will pick up the new Janet Evanovich book that has been setting untouched on living room table for two whole days now.
I am going to put away the thirty scarves I have worn this past month for my own Nanoscarfowrimo. It began because of my belief that many people who think they are writers wear scarves. I wore one scarf a day in November to remind people to be writers. I wore a different one every day and took photos of the day’s scarf. Check out previous blog posts. I even wore them when I wore my pajamas all day because I was sick.
It became a thing with my students to see which scarf I would wear next. One student even strongly voiced which of my scarves she would like if I was to suddenly pass away to that big school in the sky. My students started wearing scarves too.
And I am going to celebrate my success with introducing the school-wide Youth Nanowrimo Program. All of my 100 plus eighth graders participated. And Monday through Thursday of all of the weeks but one sixth, seventh, and eighth graders came to write. Some wrote just a few hundred and some wrote around 15, 000 but they came of their own free will and wrote. And wrote some more. Maybe it didn’t hurt that there were snacks and prizes, but there most definitely writing too. I haven’t seen all of their work yet, but what I have seen shows me that their writings are just as unique as they are. And I am proud of them.
And I will rejoice that I stuck with it this time. That I didn’t just give up. That I can wear the shirt I ordered online announcing I am a Nanowrimo winner with PRIDE. Because I earned it the hard way. Good BIC club all the way.
For those who maybe confused that “BIC” is something elicit and dirty. It means “Butt in Chair” as in real writers are good because they put their butts in their chairs and they do the work.
May you find your own BIC moments in your life and keep multiplying them until you get it right. Trust me, you’ll know when it happens!

Ask and you MIGHT receive.

I write fan letters to people and companies I like.  I also write mean ones when people make me angry too.  But this post is about the nice letters.  I wrote the Queen when I visited England that I was available for tea.  I got a lovely NO back on Buckingham stationery.  I write to my favorite authors all the time and often receive replies.

This is my letter to the customer service department of one of the great loves of my life.  The Ticonderoga Pencil.  It is not my first letter to them.

Dear Ticonderoga Pencil Manufacturers,

I love your product.  No really, I love your product.

Not in a bizarre I want to date them or I am currently hoarding them in a bunker somewhere in a remote location, but in the "This is a FABULOUS pencil!" scream it from the school tops kind of pencil love. I have traveled across Missouri to get picture with your business sign.  

I know pencils.  They are the item most often stolen in the schools today.  This is why my Ticonderogas were always locked up tighter than my purse.

I recently retired as an English teacher and I was saddened to realize I can no longer stand up the first day of class and introduce my to students to great product that is the Dixon Ticonderoga Pencil. For many years I have explained the joys of a lead that does not break, the firm, mostly unbreakable wooden shaft (Okay, I never used the word shaft when teaching 8th graders and tried not to refer to wood either), with an eraser that stays in the pencil top when you use it AND actually erases without smudges or tears.

I love these pencils so much that students have bought the various varieties for me all over the country and I did receive numerous boxes for my retirement.  None of them knew of my secret stash already carefully hidden away.

I prefer the traditional yellow and green version, but often use the black when I want to be a little more cutting edge.  I have the metallics, the breast cancer survivor ones, and extra big versions. And I will keep looking for the next variations too!

Long live the Ticonderoga!

Goldie Edwards

#Number 2 Fan (I am really number one, but two seemed more fitting.)

I don't know if I am ready to let my Ticonderoga love just fade away.  If you need someone to write for your blogs, do appearances across the nation, or star in national commercials I am available. 

Editing-Packing in what is important!

Happy 100 degree plus June to you!  As the day gets brighter and flowers and people begin to wilt, I intend to do my best to hide inside and continue to edit my book, Mirror Images. To me, editing is serious and of utmost importance.  I have been guilty recently of whining and complaining about the difficulty.

Over the last few days I have come to realize there are more important things.

One serious disadvantage of so many warm days and dry parched ground in Colorado has been the horrible fires near Colorado Springs.  Myself and many of my fellow Missourians have driven across the abyss that is Kansas (Sorry, so not a fan of the I-70 drive.) to visit the very tourist places and towns now being burned.  It is frightening to think of the tens of thousands of people who are being temporarily or permanently displaced by something they cannot control.  My son in the Army is on the "safe" side of town, but has been working to help the people who have been evacuated.  He, like many other people of the city, is very busy these days.

I am glad that many people who have been evacuated had some notice to be able to remove some items from their houses.  But when I think how hard that really would be, it dismays me.  Would you try to keep the practical items or focus more on treasured things?  Would you know what was really important if you had to hurry?  I am not certain I would even know where I kept everything I would find important without some looking around.  How would you prioritize?  How would you be able to edit your whole life?

Today I am editing.  To me, my book is like a home I love.  And I am making the decisions of what practical things to keep, what lines and passages are my treasures, and I do have to sometimes search around to find and determine what is important to me to keep.

But it is just a book.  And that is a statement I won't always make.  I get to choose when and what to edit from my book.  If I am smart and save my drafts I can go back and get something if I decide it is actually important after all.  The fire victims don't have that option.  If my book were to disappear I would be upset and angry and sad.  But then I would do what so many people in Colorado and other places are going to have to do, grieve and start over.

Editing is simply a process I control.  There truly are more important worries in the world.