headed back to dfwcon: a throwback

headed to dfwcon ’13 today, and i’m wicked excited! i thought this might be the perfect time to repost my experience from last year, because it was such a positive and encouraging one! enjoy!

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what dfwcon really taught me - posted may 21, 2012 (at the old ugly blog)

it would be far too easy for me to come here and report on everything i learned this past weekend at dfwcon. admittedly, that’s probably what most people want. we want advice and tips—all the little things that will help us be better writers. and while those are wonderful things to want, i think there’s something else we need to learn and/or remember about writing.

i’ve heard it said countless times that writing is a solitary endeavor. that we, as writers, are lonely and often starve ourselves of social interaction for the sake of finishing a scene or chapter or manuscript. I do this all the time. i pass up happy hours, nights out downtown, movie dates, skype dates, and get-togethers simply because i must get [insert project] done. but what dwfcon both taught and reminded me (in equal parts) is that writing is not as solitary as we sometimes lead ourselves to believe.

this past weekend i connected with a truly amazing group of writers i’d been corresponding with via twitter for the last couple months. some of these women i knew longer, and some i see on a regular basis, but no matter how far we traveled or how long we knew each other, there was an instant connection. magic. (yes, magic.) we spent two and a half days attending workshops, classes, and gong show panels, all the while carrying on a constant conversation that included almost anything. no topic was safe. there were times when my stomach ached from all the laughter these ladies brought me. and when sunday evening came and it was time to head back to austin, my stomach ached for different reasons. the weekend suddenly felt too short. everyone was leaving.

having writing friends, i realize, is different from having regular friends. it by no means lessens the worth of either—friends are friends and i love mine dearly, no matter which they are—but they are different. when it comes to my writing, my regular friends are supportive. they will listen to me talk about my books or other books, but invariably reach that point of saturation when their eyes glaze over. i don’t blame them. i’m sure there are times i do the same to them. but with writing friends, that never happens. this conference taught me that a writing friend (or writing acquaintance, or even a writing stranger) loves to talk books, pitch sessions, and conference classes. they understand your passion. they share your passion.

so it’s funny to hear someone say writing is a solitary endeavor when i’ve just come off a weekend that was anything but. now, more than ever, i feel very much surrounded. my cellphone keeps blowing up with notifications of tweets and e-mails, reminding me that my friends are still there despite the hundreds of miles that separate us.

writing can be a solitary thing if you allow it to be. i’m thankful that because of these ladies, i know it won’t be.

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a year later, and i still 100% feel this way. these girls have been my saving grace this past year and i’m so thankful for each and every one of them. some of them are returning to dfwcon this year and words cannot express how freaking excited i am to see them.

the writer’s voice: what comes after

so i never thought i’d be writing this post today: i made it through the rafflecopter selection for the writer’s voice! it’s a contest modeled after nbc’s the voice and is hosted by cupid of cupid’s literary connection, brenda drake of brenda drake writes, monica b.w. of love ya, and krista van dolzer of mother. write. (repeat.) i’m wicked excited to have made the first round, and admittedly a little queasy.

as per contest rules, i’ll be posting my query for what comes after as well as the first 250 words. know what this means? proper capitalization (lest the coaches think i’m a grammar failure.) so, without further what not, here we go:

query

Dear Coaches,

Seventeen-year-old Caroline Webb works hard to keep her life exactly how it’s always been: predictable, comfortable, safe. But when her best friend Evan returns from astronomy camp with a girlfriend and a pretentious attitude, Caroline senses a shift in her once-reliable universe.

Now Caroline sees the beginnings of cataclysmic change everywhere, and she has to stop it. Convinced that if she can fix just one thing, everything else will come back together, she sets out to reclaim her easy friendship with Evan, and restore him to his original, cooler self. Her plan: co-captain Whimsicality Club’s Poor Man’s Paintball tournament with him.

But instead of helping put things back together, strategizing for the event drives them further apart. Evan steps down as co-captain, leaving Caroline stuck with Luke, the camera-toting, manga-wielding Whimsicality newcomer who replaces him. Luke is full of outrageous ideas, like spying on rival teams and infiltrating enemy lines—but Caroline doesn’t have time for outrageous when her friendship is at stake. Yet when Luke pulls her along on his top-secret missions, Caroline finds herself facing one new challenge after another—and loving it.

Embracing change was supposed to mean allowing uncertainty to wreak havoc in her life, but if Caroline can trust herself long enough to let go of her fear, she just might discover that change can usher in the biggest, most exciting adventures of all.

WHAT COMES AFTER, a YA contemporary, is complete at 80,000 words. Thank you for your time and consideration.

first 250

There is nothing even remotely awesome about stargazing.

Maybe once upon a time I thought there was something magical to it, but that must’ve been before my best friend Evan told me everything his cosmos-obsessed brain knew about space. Call me crazy, but it’s hard to go all weak in the knees about those twinkling lights when my brain is trying to reconcile all those stars, moons, and planets moving around in their orbits, each with its own gravitational pull that would gladly suck me in and burn me up if I didn’t run out of oxygen, lose consciousness, and succumb to hypoxia first. There is nothing awesome about that.

“I’ll never go up there,” I told Evan once. I think we were twelve. Maybe thirteen.

“I will,” he whispered. “Someday.”

We spend almost every Saturday night on the roof of our building, staring up at that infinite vacuum while Evan rattles off all the latest facts he’s memorized from his Encyclopedia of Outer Space. Not surprisingly, Saturday nights almost always end with me waking sweaty from some stupid nightmare where I’m cast adrift in space with nothing to hold on to and no control of where I go and the whole infinity of the universe to float through, alone.

“I’ll rescue you,” Evan always tells me.

“You’d be too busy staring at all the stars to even see me float by,” I always say, and he laughs. Probably because he knows it’s true.

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so, that’s it! best of luck to all other contestants!

dfwcon: sixty tips in sixty minutes

i’m really excited to tell you all about something that’s happening this weekend. the lovely kayla olson & i are facilitating a class at dfwcon! for those of you who don’t know, dfwcon is a writer’s conference in the dallas/ft. worth area, but it’s not a conference exclusive to dallas/ft. worth writers! after all, kayla & i live in austin! i attended last year’s conference and met so many people from all around the united states. it was my first official writing conference, too, but i was so impressed by how everything came together. i had a fantastic time.

so naturally, i was thrilled when our suggestion for a class was accepted in this year’s line up (which, by the way, you can find here.) here’s the blurb:

60 tips in 60 minutes

all writers–beginners and seasoned professionals alike–have two things in common: we all have a writing process, and we all have difficulty with it at some point along the way. lacking discipline? struggling to stay motivated? curious about tools like scrivener (or good, old-fashioned note cards)? need to turn your internet addiction into something productive? in 60 tips in 60 minutes, writers will walk away with tips on all of these things and more. not merely a presentation, the class will emphasize discussion and the sharing of tools/practices that have worked for others–it will be a great opportunity to draw on the collective knowledge and experience of the attendees. be thinking of your best tips, and come prepared to share in the conversation!

pretty cool, right? things to note about this class is that kayla & i in no way consider ourselves experts on this crazy thing called writing. we each have different methods and tools that work for us, and we recognize that even with those tools, we sometimes get stuck. this class really is meant to be a discussion in which attendees can offer up suggestions or ideas they have, and where they can also jot down ideas that sound interesting to them. we’re merely there to keep the conversation going. sure, we’ll have a fancy slideshow and a handout or two, but the real success of the class will be in the attendees.

so if you’re headed to dfwcon this weekend, stop by our class! it’s saturday, from 4:30-5:30. we hope to see you there!

writing in secret

i have a confession that is three months overdue.

i did nano.

and i didn’t tell anyone.

well, mostly no one.

there were reasons, but this was the main one: i needed to write something new. at the time, i’d been in the trenches with what comes after (and its various forms) for almost two years. and while i’d written new scenes and new dialogue, i hadn’t written anything differently new, if that makes sense. i needed to prove to myself that i was capable of writing something other than caroline, food carts, and broken hearts. i also needed to be accountable only to me. keeping it a secret kept it… i don’t know… on the level? as much as i crave accountability and love talking about my stories as i write them (i’m a total talk-things-out writer), it was nice to relieve myself of the pressure of updating others, or feeling like i had to share my progress only to realize i wasn’t as far along as i’d hoped.

i didn’t win nano–i only managed 30k words–but i did finish the story. it took three months and some change, but i managed to knock out the first draft of in the still, which sits pretty at about 63k.

and?

i love it.

i never knew i could love something as much as i love this project. even though i know it is deeply flawed and in need of some serious editing, i love it. even though i know two months from now i’ll be cursing it from the ugly side of revisionland, i love it.

i. love. it.

this project is a lot of firsts for me, too: 1) first story i’ve finished start to finish without abandoning it for another shiny, 2) first story to take me less than a year to draft–3 months! i still can’t believe it!, and 3) first time i’ve ever sent my ugly first draft to my crit partners.

that last one is so huge, i can’t even tell you. i usually don’t share anything until the third, fourth, or even fifth draft. maybe it’s the perfectionist in me, or maybe it’s fear that if it isn’t polished and somewhat decent, my friends will think i’m a crap writer and tell me to quit while i still have my dignity, but that’s such bunk. of course it’s crap–it’s the first draft. but it’s only through help, insight, and feedback that i’m able to grow this story into something more. and i’m infinitely lucky to have some completely kick-ass crit partners (one of which–kayla, i’m looking you–is 93% why i finished this draft so soon & without giving up. that girl is a true drill sergeant with a heart of gold.)

y’all, i’m so in love with this story, it’s ridiculous. and it takes place in alaska! ALASKA! and there are moose, cute boys, trysts, and time travel. i mentioned that, right? yup. in the still is a time slip adventure set in the alaskan wilderness (which means i’m required to now visit for research purposes, right?)

the trajectory for the next few months is to revise (pending crit partner feedback.) there is still so much to research and flesh out. dfwcon is in may, so hopefully i’ll have in the still in decent enough shape to pitch.

so yeah, that’s what i’ve been up to & why i haven’t been around lately. what about you? what’ve you been up to?

it’s two-thousand thirteen

life is all sorts of fun & crazy right now, emphasis on the crazy. i’m in a mad, mad dash to reach my 70k on my alaska story (currently kissing 50k)(and yes, i realize this means i totally gave in to the shiny but i don’t regret and i’ll have more on all of that once i’m looking at 70k from the other side.) more information about the project (though its mostly just playlists and pretty, pretty pictures of trees and water and sky) can be found on my projects page.

in other exciting news, 2013 is shaping up to be an awesome year. i’ve got really good vibes all around about what this year holds, both for my writing and for me.

what about you, dear sweet readers i’ve missed so? what do you think about this new year?

the curse of the shiny new idea

confession: my shiny idea isn’t new, but i wager this talk is applicable no matter how long you’ve been sitting on an idea.

the shiny new idea is a seductive beast. she waltzes in at the first sign of weakness or doubt and turns everything upside down. she’s simultaneously hated and adored, and she’s to blame for the folder of half-finished ideas currently residing in my hard drive.

i’ve been struggling with what comes after revisions lately. there’s several scenes that need to be repurposed and a dozen new scenes to write and sometimes i just want to whine, “haven’t i already done all of this already?” (answer: yes. but corey, you were the one who wanted to make all these changes.)

a couple weeks ago, i hit a particular rough patch and i (stupidly, foolishly) decided to step back and look around.

and that’s when i saw her: my shelf of alaska travel books, picture books, and narratives. my tumblr of beautiful scenery pictures. my stack of plotcards. my pile of legal pad scribblings.

she was gorgeous and tragically unfinished.

my alaska story is tricky and layered and fast paced and intense and so many things what comes after isn’t. and in a moment of weakness, i let myself think about the epic ending that i’d been trying to sort out forever and BAM! the answer came to me! i got a pen and scribbled out the outline for the last 1/3 of the story and it finally, finally works!

so now i’m screwed.

the alaska story is reserved for “new year, new book 2013″ and while i’ve scraped together enough willpower to shelve her despite the epic revelations, i can’t stop thinking about her. part of me whispers, “just give yourself a few days to toss out some words, then you can come back,” but that is such a lie. i’ll get sucked in. what comes after will continue to be this unfinished mess of broken hearts and food carts.

how do people stay on point when it gets rough? it worries me that i can’t seem to buckle down. it worries me that maybe i don’t have what it takes to do this whole writing thing as a legit career. it worries me that i’m going to have all these stories and characters and voices trapped up in my head forever.

i’ve got a little over a month until my december 1st what comes after deadline, and have only just started to scratch the surface of revisions. maybe i need a planner. maybe i need to get organized. milestones. small rewards.

i need something shinier than a shiny new idea to keep my eyes on the prize.

sometimes you have to give yourself a break

i wake up every morning with an expectation of what i’ll accomplish in a day. it’s both a good and bad thing.

for the good: it gets me out of bed. it often gets me to the gym. it makes me clean my apartment. and most importantly, it plants me in front of my computer to write.

but the bad? the weather is overcast and drizzly and i just want to curl up for another hour. i’m tired and my legs are sore from the barre three video i did yesterday and i don’t want to workout. cleaning is for suckers. and the absolute worst–when my mind just isn’t there.

i’m talking about when you set goals or makes plans and it doesn’t happen. that stinging sense of failure as you look back at the day and feel like you accomplished nothing. when you kick yourself again because it’s been a week and you still haven’t finished that stupid planetarium scene.

and then, big things loom in the distance.

acl is this week, and it’s the first year i’m actually going. my older sister is coming into town and we’re going to spend three days in sunny (and hopefully not too hot) zilker park with thousands of other people, rocking out to bands we love.

and that’s why i’ve wiped my goals sheet clean for this week.

because no one likes feeling like they failed.

there’s too much going on this week between my  big kid job and tracy flying in and figuring out the whole acl thing, and i don’t want to feel like there was all this stuff i didn’t get done.

so, if i happen to get writing done this week, awesome. if i happen to make it to the gym, great. but this week i’m making it a point to wake up with nothing on the agenda but living (and surviving) the day.

because sometimes you just have to give yourself a break.