I have Robert Pruneda on the show this week. I had a lot of fun talking with him.
Enjoy the show!
I have Robert Pruneda on the show this week. I had a lot of fun talking with him.
Enjoy the show!
I’m stubborn, and I drive myself crazy.
“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off – then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.”
― Herman Melville, Moby-Dick
I wouldn’t say I’m having an off-day, but I’m definitely not having an on-day. I’m getting used to a lot of things and trying to accomplish a lot at once while managing to be a halfway, decent parent and partner.
—I’m feeling a little burned out, which frustrates me because I’m not quite where I want to be yet.
I’ve been talking about this a lot; it’s on my mind right now. I continue to hear back from agents, some requesting more, and some passing, but I’m still searching for a home for A Story Unwritten, a process, I know. The Immensely Powerful is out of my hands for the most part at the moment. It is ready for another set of eyes. I’m excited and anxious to share that with you guys soon.
I’ve been spending a lot of time putting podcast episodes together. I kinda love it. Way more work than I anticipated; I’ll be honest there, but I really like it. I’ll be at it for awhile. It’s a lot like writing short stories, but me instead of someone else. People terrify me, but they also fascinate me, so I’m happy to talk different people on the show. It is good times, and I like it.
I could on, but I probably shouldn’t. I overloaded my plate and the only way to calm my breathing is to check off some things.
Thanks for reading, you guys rock. I appreciate all the support.
On the review front, if you’ve read ‘The Highly Capable’ and liked it, I would really appreciate a review, same goes for ‘Too Many Words.’ Reviews help my career so much. Certain opportunities aren’t open unless I have a certain amount of reviews. If you do take the time to write a review for my book or podcast, thank you. Time is precious, and I really appreciate you taking yours.
Look for my podcast tomorrow. I have Robert Pruneda on the show this week, and I’m excited. It is going to be a good one.
Until Next Time!
I’m making my way through my Monday, but man, it is loaded with stuff. I’m in a funny place where I’m exhausted and working, or exhausted and thinking about work. Shutting my mind off hasn’t been something I can do easily.
I have a lot on my plate. I’m not complaining. It’s how I like it. I love it, actually, but sometimes I have to see what I have in front of me and say, “Okay now, no more.” I reached a point last week where all these lines I tossed out started coming back to me at once. At first glance, I want to jump on everything, but I had to slow down, look at everything carefully and decided what was worth my time and what could wait.
It’s hard for me to limit what I take on. I like to think I can do it all, but often I end up running myself into the ground. Well, I’d like to avoid that from happening. Falling apart is unpleasant and it takes more than a second to reconstruct myself. So, this week and last, I’m looking at what I’m doing really carefully and working in a way where I jump from thing to thing in a more organized and controlled fashion.
The thing with marathons is its best if you go about the pacing yourself approach. See, I like races better. I like to run as fast as I can for as long as I can. But as my career grows I have a responsibility not to burn out, mostly to myself and family who is dealing with having a wife and mother who works full time, which is new this year.
I find myself saying to them a lot lately, “Sorry, I’m trying my best.” I find changing expectations of myself is really helpful, but difficult to do realistically alot of the time.
If I can humbling say…I’m pretty good at it.
I’m still going to be spread thin, there is no magic answer to that, and truth be told I don’t want there to be. I want to continue to do it all, but I am going to do make a point to be aware of how I’m spending my time. This, I think will help with the blurred lines of my work and my hobbies, my down time, and my family time. Or at least, I can hope.
I have some prep work to do for my podcast. This week best-selling horror author, Robert Pruneda is going to be on ‘Too Many Words’. I’m super excited for that. ‘Elliot Granger and The Clueless Barcade’ will really, really be posted this Friday. I continue to do research for my new project and line edits for ‘The Immensely Powerful’. Maybe this week, ‘A Story Unwritten’ gets closer to having a home. Here is for hoping.
That’s it for now.
Until Next time.
This week kicked my ass. I also kicked its, I’d say, but I’m thrashed and really done for the night.
It is hard to know what the week will be, and how much those projects really use in terms of time and energy. There is a lot on my plate right now, different types of things I’m still at the early stages of figuring out how to handle them. I had a lot to get accomplished this week, and unfortunately, wasn’t quite able to get everything done, including Elliot Granger and The Clueless Brigade. I am not done editing it, something that inherently takes longer than anticipated.
This coming Friday, April 1st, the first chapter in full will be posted, without a doubt and every Friday until it’s done. New projects can be tricky regarding planning. The newsletter went out a little bit ago, so if you are signed up, you should be getting them in your mailbox over the weekend. I’m not going to feel defeated because I got really damn close to doing it all.
I really struggled focusing today. My mind was all over the map, and I need to do a better job asking for help. I’m pretty bummed I don’t have Elliot for you tonight, but I do have the first six hundred words edited. I had to stop because my eyes started doing the blurry, burning thing when I’d scrutinize each sentence. The whole thing could be ready, but it just didn’t work out that way.
I considered making coffee, but it’s time to sleep. This is one of the moments I need to accept and not fight it. I’m going to choose the right thing here. My brain needs a break. I’ll cross all my T’s next week—ir at least, that’s the plan.
The first part of Chapter One is below—like I said, the entire first chapter will be posted next Friday, which will officially kick off the serial.
Hope you enjoy your weekend.
Until next time.
Chapter One: Lost souls recognize others of its kin
The last words my mom spoke to me were, “I love you, have a good day at school.”
I wish I could honestly say that I knew somewhere in the depths of my stomach that was the last time I’d seen her alive. If I play back the memory of my walking down the stone steps and swear, there was a twinge of finality.
I can look back on the cloudy morning, and remember the winter chill wasn’t far from taking over entirely. My mom’s worn and freckled framed mouth twisted in a forced smile. The pain was getting the best of her, I knew that. Her eyes said it all. I heard all the adults talking even though, for some reason, they thought I couldn’t hear them. Even my kid brother knew what was happening. I wished it weren’t true. It didn’t seem right, and it certainly wasn’t fair. The truth kept finding its way in my head even though I couldn’t possibly begin to understand how much it was going to hurt.
I can still smell vanilla.
Right before going home for lunch, the office called me in and I knew mom was gone—that, I can honestly say. The emptiness swelled in all of my new holes that were just there instantly, open and raw.
I hate cancer.
Christmas lights coated the street in a forced cheeriness that made me want to curl into a ball after punching a lamp post. I wanted to scream. I couldn’t wrap my head around how the holidays could continue without my mom. The whole commercial twist on the holiday schedule uses “family time” as a vessel to sell everyone stuff. For every time, a commercial of a mom making cookies or gift shopping would air a metaphorical knife would bore itself into my chest. I bit at my thumbnail as I crossed the street. My eyes stayed focused on my feet as they walked over faded white lines.
I was too nervous to drive, so I walked everywhere. I did three hours of lessons and decided the way of the foot was for me—which for the most part fit my life fine until Glen’s new wife, Joan insisted I go to group counseling on account of my problems. Northern New Jersey, land of the malls, had terrible public transportation. It was basically unusable—in other words—it took me three buses to get to the group which was a trek I needed to make five days a week now thanks to my being a minor and having very little control over my own well-being. By car, it takes about fifteen minutes. As a recent high school drop out, my days were pretty empty.Glen and Joan didn’t know what to do with me, and I’m not sure they want to do a nothing other than getting through the next year and a half until I was eighteen, we all know I’m gone. At least, we can hope that will be the case.
The third and final bus dropped me in the heart of Clifton, one of Jersey’s rougher neighborhoods. North Jersey was a patchwork quilt of neighborhoods that are inside of gates that money drips off of, dirty towns that have streets lined with trash and graffiti, nothing-special collections of houses in between and the most elaborate retail assortment just all five minutes away. I felt like I was losing my mind like I was living in a box that everyone could see but me. I had eight, long blocks to walk past pawn shops and strip clubs to a large, crumbling building that held my support group for teenagers who abuse drugs. Not for ones dealing with grief. After three different therapists, my fill-in guardians decided group therapy was the best bet. Westfield’s group for lost teens is more of an out-patient program since me out of the cramped house for four hours was better than one.
Tune into next week!
The second episode of Too Many Words is up on iTunes, STICHER, and here. Author K.M. Randall and I talk magic, writing life,badass heroines, and how much YA has changed over the years.
It was a lot of fun having her on the show. I hope you enjoy listening.
Have a good day.
Inspiration and ideas, in my opinion, are everywhere. They aren’t always visible or assessable at that time, but they are there. I, of course, rely a lot on creativity. I need to be able to call upon it at will. This is sometimes possible, and other times I panic and clean house instead of producing words.
Something I didn’t realize early on in my career, and this is real, I didn’t understand why my first pass at concepts weren’t totally awesome the first time. This was hard for me to wrap my head around. I spent so much time longing to write a book, wanting to have something to add to the world’s library, I didn’t think about much how to get there. Not at first.
I’ve always been interested in writing stories. The pretend world is one I like. Fiction. We all seek in one form or another. Something made up to help us deal with our issues. This is a topic I cover in my podcast this week. I have fantasy author, K.M. Randall on Too Many Words. I’m excited to share it with you guys.Too Many Words will be up tomorrow. I’ll post a link here.
But, anyway, I was saying how the world needs fiction. I’m not saying this as a person who relies on people buying their fiction; I say this as a consumer. Escapes are needed. We all have different ones, but we all have them.
Everyone is so similar, all our needs are so basic, and most of our desires surround the mirroring goals. So many of ride solo boats in seas of the same kind. I also think social anxiety is something that affects everyone.
I often think of kindness, in the terms of how it as a spell that can be cast. I try to explain it to my kids this way.
This week is going according to plan, which means I don’t have much to complain about.
I’m going to do some prep to have K.M. Randall on the show. I will be recording with her in few.
Thanks for reading!