The Writing Part
Anyway, here’s something funny and ironic. How many of you caught the typo in my last post?
“Despite all the work, I know stuff it still going to get missed.”
Wow.
Jul6
Writing and Martial Arts
Category Archives: Writer life
Jun25
Bookblock and book cover
The email from the publisher began:
“We have now begun the production cycle for your book, Wish I Was Here. Your submitted final manuscript has been professionally formatted into a custom PDF bookblock and attached here for your review.”
I had been texting with a coworker when this email popped up, prompting me to hastily exit that conversation and clock out of my day job.
The cover was also attached. Naturally, I began there. Oh, how I wish I could show you the cover, but it’s still a work in progress. When I saw it, I didn’t hate it. But I didn’t love it.
I sent it to my Faithful Few for feedback. (Isn’t it wonderful when alliteration happens naturally?) I got varied responses:
Jun3
I guess it’s time I blogged something.
Jan25
This is real stress
The deadline looms for turning in my final-final manuscript of Wish I Was Here to the publisher. The feedback I’ve gotten from beta readers has been good, but that’s mostly been men in their fifties. Clearly, I need to expand my friend group.
But the harsh reality is, I should get the reaction of my target audience: teenage girls, especially ones who are well-read.
Gulp.
I needed to let my own children read this thing.
Jan15
Insulting Thoughtful One
Thoughtful One arrived after me, and since I saw him coming, I grabbed his card from the box when I grabbed mine. His card was full save a few Fight Simulation boxes on the bottom.
I handed him his card and said, “Nice and full.”
“What?” he said, tossing his card onto the bench in a manner that made me think, “Ooookay.”
“Your card. It’s practically full.”
“Oh.” He relaxed. “I thought you were commenting on my stomach. I appreciate the honesty, but…”
I laughed. “Yeah, man, big breakfast or something?”
I would never be rude to any of these people, if not for self-preservation, for basic human decency, and because none of them give reason for rudeness.
~~~
When the gym had a Christmas party, I brought my son so he could play with the Little Instructors again like on our two park days. Thoughtful One brought his wife and, after introducing me to her, added, “She’s a novelist.”
Dec1
Early book reviews and utter craziness
You may or may not have noticed I’ve done some site upgrades, including a new title to reflect the blog content, new about/contact (which is sort of funny), and a page called My book.
At My book, I have the synopsis and a few early reviews from kindly fellow authors. One guy wrote me in October saying he would read the book in December. A few days later, he wrote, “Got hooked. Will finish it this weekend.” The next day, he wrote, “What a fun read. Loved it. I think you have a hit on your hands.”
I didn’t mind that.
My kidlit author buddy, Mike Allegra, is currently reading it and said, “This book is fast-paced and fun!” He has been emailing as he goes, making predictions, which is both great and frightening, depending on how close to the truth he gets. I’m gratified that his guesses at plot twists are not the same as another reader’s.
This other reader emailed with subject line, “Wow,” followed by:
Oct9
The birth of Ilsa Rey
I know I’m supposed to do My Birthday Month, Part 2, but something came up.
Months ago, I was chatting with one of my favorite thought-provoking blog buddies, Endless Weekend, about the novel I was working on and what author name I might use should this project come to fruition.
I was considering using a pseudonym to distinguish my fiction from my three non-fiction books. Today, I confirmed that decision with a little thought, a little prayer, and a coin toss. (Best way to make all major life decisions, really. My husband would still be single if not for me flipping heads. Kidding, kidding.)
Endless Weekend helpfully sent me a link to every derivation of my name used throughout the world. I sloughed through a TON of names, nearly giving up before sitting up straight at the sight of “Ilsa.”
May5
E. T. is becoming a problem
No, I’m not talking about the famous movie where the people in space suits freaked me out as a kid. I’m talking about Enthusiastic Teen whose fervor in our Jiu-Jitsu classes has taken a turn.
I used to see ET sparingly, but he’s been showing up more often than not lately. Because we don’t bring out the best in each other, I try to avoid him. Thankfully, the next class after the scolding was when Jack the Black Belt volunteered to work with me. However, near the end of class, we did a musical chairs-type thing, which led me to interact with ET. I told him what happened after the “Ugh. I got ET” comment. He grabbed both my hands and said, “I am so so sorry you got in trouble.” Then he said more and tried to grab my hands again, but I wouldn’t let him.
ET is becoming a problem.
In the next class, I arrived a bit late and so lined up at the end. ET stuck his head out from farther down the line to look at me, but I averted my eyes. At a pause in instruction, he moved to stand next to me.
ET is becoming a problem.
When instruction was over, ET asked, “Want to work together?” I wasn’t prepared for how to say no, so I felt I had no choice but to agree. He’s sort of difficult to work with in that he messes around too much.
He did, however, teach me (or rather remind me of) a valuable hook technique (I forget the name) that helped me lift his leg, which is probably about half my entire body weight, so I could sneak my leg out from behind his.
“Nice, Betsy. Using the ___ hook,” Instructor said as he walked by on his rounds.
ET is sometimes not a problem.
Sep11
Birthday card, my parents’ style
My mother clearly put a lot of thought into choosing just the right card for her youngest child’s birthday.
See what she wrote on the inside.
Nov26
The Write Spot, Part 2
Last week I wrote about my failed attempt to get serious writing done at home. The following week, I decided to venture back to the library.
Instead of sitting in the back corner in the section marked “Silent Zone,” I found a more central area, not directly under the AC, that was, at least initially, quiet.
Then someone I couldn’t see carried on a phone conversation at full volume. Minutes later, a librarian, of all people, explained to a patron the organizational system of the book stacks at even greater volume. And finally, an older gentleman asked if the seat next to me was taken. When I said no, he responded, “Now it is,” and plunked down with a waft of week-old body odor, dropped his pile of newspapers next to him, then crinkled through them one by one, all the while taking rattling breaths that twice made me check to be sure he hadn’t actually fallen asleep and was snoring. Read the rest of this entry
Writing and Martial Arts 