Sunday, August 13, 2017
I couldn't sleep last night thinking about them being out there, not knowing how many of them are, not knowing where they are. They're all over.
Out and about yesterday, it struck me that POC can't know whether the people they come across are Nazis are not. Anyone they see could be one of these white nationalist, white supremacist, unapologetic Nazis. I literally wanted to hug every POC I saw and tell them I wasn't a Nazi. Thankfully, I restrained my weird self. But the thought was horrifying. That is no way for people to live in this country or any other.
Using Your Skills
I searched for things to do about this much of yesterday. What can everyday people even do about this? It isn't enough to send money to organizations who fight this. I don't have all that much money to send. I have a bunch of offspring and pets and teenagers eat so much it's seriously unreal. They NEVER stop eating. Hopefully the ACLU can buy some office supplies with what I sent.
But in reality, both sides have money. Both sides have resources and people and money and office supplies. It occurred to me that to really do something, people have to analyze their skills and figure out how they can apply them to fighting Nazis.
Unfortunately, I really have only two skills, if I'm being honest. I can write and I am good at staying organized. That's pretty much it. I kept thinking last night there was little that someone with those skills to really do anything.
But waking this morning, it occurred to me that writers can do what they've always done to fight wrongs. They can write. That's more powerful than sending money, and it has the power to reach further than attending a rally. That's what I have to bring to the table.
Days Off Are For the Weak
For many, many, many years I worked seven days a week. Hey, I love my job. And hey, I do have a bunch of offspring. But beginning this year, I decided to take Sundays off. Sundays have been for catching up on crap like laundry and organizing the offsprings' rooms. But starting today, I'll be taking on something else.
I'm starting a website to keep tabs on neo-Nazism. I've started the content today and am searching for a good domain name. Sundays can be devoted to laundry and fighting Nazis.
It's what I can do.
Maybe it will go nowhere, and maybe it will change a mind or two. Hopefully, it will help a few people recognize this evil for what it is. If you're a writer, write about this scourge. Get your voice out there. It may make a difference for a few people. It may just put your thoughts out there amongst the other voices. Either way, it's better than doing little outside reading about the problem.
Monday, May 8, 2017
So, why is it so stressful? I'll tell you exactly why. Because no one WILL EVER DO THEIR JOBS. I spend a good bit of my time trying to get other people to do their jobs in between doing my own. Today is a great example. I had a rabid raccoon in my yard. It stared at me. For FIVE HOURS. You'd think the city or county or state or Superman or whomever would come right out and get it, right? Oh hell no. No one wanted anything to do with it.
It took me those five hours to get someone to agree to come out and get it, and that's after contacting the state and getting a state game warden to beg the local animal control to come and get it. Did he get it? No. He tried, but it scampered away somewhere. I helped to look for it, but we never found it. If it comes back, well, it'll be back. That's it. No one will help, and I'll get rabies. It's fine.
The Tale of the Materials
Another case in point: when my father passed away recently, I inherited some materials. That's all I can really say. Some materials. These are not materials that should really be in a house or even a lab, really. So, you'd think someone would want to take them. Um, no. No one in the city, county or state would take them. The local university wouldn't take them. Freaking Oak Ridge wouldn't even call me back. Even local hazmat companies said no.
Does it matter to anyone that I could basically build a specific type of device in my garage if I wanted to? Oh good God no. It does not. After weeks of calling and emailing various agencies, organizations and people, I've given up. Those materials just live in my garage now. What are they? I'll never say. I just have to keep them safe and live with them. If you want to report me to the authorities- PLEASE DO. Maybe they will do something about it. But, don't bet anything on it.
Today Has Been Awesome
In between staring at a rabid animal and calling everyone in the world to see if they could do something about it, I've been trying to make an appointment to get a passport for one of my kids. Guess what? They won't do their jobs, either. I have been calling for almost seven hours, and they refuse to answer the phone. Once they even picked it up and hung up. I guess it was irritating to hear the phone ringing at work.
I don't know if this is how other states work. I don't know if anyone else has a garage housing materials, a rabid animal in their yard and no way to get a passport, but I'm guessing that most other states run more efficiently than this. It's tough to write anything at all when you spend so much time begging other people to so the simple jobs they're paid to do. I get up and do my freaking job every day, and I don't even have a boss.
What's really odd to me is that people rarely take freelancers seriously, like we don't have real jobs. And yet, I work every day, usually excluding Christmas, and get more done than any of the seven people I talked to on the phone today about rabies. Maybe this state should be run on a freelance basis? Maybe people who don't need a boss could take matters into their own hands and get stuff done?
Saturday, March 25, 2017
Monday, August 3, 2015
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
I do love crafting a short stories, but there are a few problems with doing so. I am considering not creating as many of them to focus more on the two novels I've been working on for the last couple of years.
Here's the trouble with short stories:
- They pay crap. It's unbelievable how little most publishers will pay for a short story. I generally won't submit to a market that pays like five bucks (yes, there are tons of those). There are actually a lot of them now that pay nothing at all- and they are still choosy and demand your best work. Nope, not subbing to them either. I always sub to the high payers first, get rejected by them and then start subbing to the mid-paying markets. Those markets, however, are still going to be low paying and not truly worth the time it took you to write the work and submit it out from a monetary standpoint. I have bills, man. Lots of bills.
- The submissions process is grueling. Speciality magazines, ezines and fancy literary magazines are the markets that I have primarily been submitting to with short stories. They are so specialized in both topics and voice that it's tough to get on with most of them. This has made it necessary to submit most of my work to dozens of them, and that takes dozens of hours. This has further reduced writing income by keeping me from doing my paid, non-fiction work to spend hour after hour querying, signing up for every site's submission system and altering cover letters to suit each. Again, bills, man.
- It's been a distraction from my novels. Since I've been writing and subbing out short stories, I've sold five or six and have another four or so that I've been subbing out. That is a significant amount of time that has been taken away from the novels that I need to finish. One of them is a strong edit away from being done, and the other is still just an adolescent learning to walk in high heels. They both need time and attention.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
I started submitting short stories to publishers in my late teens, and in those days you had to physically print the stuff out and mail it in. It was tough for me to afford as a student, and I didn't grab much interest from publishers. I gave up in pursuit of non-fiction, and I haven't submitted any fiction again until last last year. These days, it is so much easier with electronic submissions. I had two short stories that I shopped for months, and I kept getting rejections for them over and over again.
One of the stories I believed in with all of my heart. I just believed that it was worth my time and trouble and the dozens of rejections it was getting. I got comments from publishers that it was basically useless, and one publisher actually said "No one wants to read about vampires anymore." I got several rejections because my protagonist wasn't some kind of warrior woman. No, she was just a regular woman without any super powers or astonishing strength. Isn't there any room for that in fiction, I started to wonder? Do all female protagonists have to be warriors or superwomen? Really?
But I believed in that story because it was intricate and extremely detailed and full of truth. I believed in it because I felt it and because I saw something in it that was rich and full and engulfing. I submitted it to various publishers for 10 months and finally gave up. They weren't seeing what I saw. I wasn't going to submit it anymore.
Then, one day, after I had given up, a publisher sent me an email that made by throat catch. I was sitting down with my laptop when I saw what I thought was the third rejection I'd get that day. It wasn't. It was the most amazing email I've ever gotten. It was from a publisher who went on and on and on about how amazing the story was and how lucky they'd be if I sold it to them. I had to get up and walk around because I couldn't tell if I was breathing. Someone else saw what I saw, and they wanted to pay for it and put it in print.
Within a few days, the second story I wrote was accepted by another publisher. Then, two little flash stories that I had submitted were accepted by still another. All four acceptances happened within about a week.
One of the more interesting things was the reactions that people had when I told them the news. When I first start telling people that I had sold some fiction, the first question every single person asked was, "For how much?" I wasn't selling a lamp on eBay. Selling fiction isn't really about the amount you get. To put it in perspective, the other day I wrote an article about how to write fiction, and that sold for more than any one fiction story that I've sold so far. Non-fiction may pay the bills, but it's amazing to know that publishers believe in your fiction so much that they will pay for it and foot the bill for publishing it.
The other question I kept getting when I announced subsequent sales is whether it was the same publisher who was buying it all. I don't know that people understood how insulting that was. No, family and friends, there are multiple publishers willing to pay- not just one guy somewhere who wants to buy it all. WTF?
Being able to sell some fiction has given me a serious boost of confidence for the two novels that I've been working on. It's shown me that believing in a work is a real force, and that if you have a strong piece that you really believe in, it's possible to find a good home for it even when that home seems unlikely. It's possible to find a publisher who sees it for exactly what it is.
Friday, March 28, 2014
I can't do it. I can't even tell people in person that I would be good for their projects. I have had two new projects locally in the past month, and both times I just gave them a couple of sentences about my experience and let them make up their minds. I can't bring myself to do more than that to promote myself. Sooooo, rather than be stopped by the discomfort and nausea that comes from self-promotion, I'm going to start promoting someone else.
I chose a kick-ass pen name that totally sounds like a real person, and I started building a Web presence for her this week. She has a Twitter account now, and she actually has a decent number of followers already. I will next get her a Facebook page, and then I can start shouting into passing cars. By the time I'm finished with the two novels that I am almost finished with, I will be able to point out "my" Web presence and show that I will be able to market the material. I don't know how I will feel yet about actively promoting her and telling my followers to read my stuff and all of that, but I think I can do it if I pretend that I am promoting someone else entirely. I've never had a problem promoting others through PR writing, press conferences, etc., so it should be a lot easier and less nauseating.
I hope this means that I'm not a crazy person. It seems a little schizophrenic to do things this way, but I don't really see an alternative at the moment. Plus, it seems like it will be kind of fun. And if I am a little crazy? Eh. Everyone interesting is.
UPDATE: It just occurred to me that she should have a blog! What should she blog about? How awesome she is? How much fun is to buy books and short stories? I think she'll have seven dogs and enjoy hiking or some other outdoor crap.