Story Shopping Update or Apex Is A No Go

So I Got This E-mail...

You may recall that I did a very bold (impetuous...crazy) thing on February 17, and it is chronicled in a post called "Writing, Publishing, and Facing Fear" right here on this very blog. If you haven't read that post, please take time to read that first or this will make very little sense. 

(Go on. Read. We'll wait right here and have some tea while we wait.)

At 3 pm today, I got an email from Apex Magazine (which still rocks, by the way), specifically from someone named Sigrid and copied to a guy named Michael. It politely said that my story was not what they were looking for at this time. Pretty standard fare. 

My Feelings

I'm really okay about this. I can take the story, work on a new draft, try a few other magazines, and maybe someone else will take it. It's not a crushing or even bruising (on second thought, yeah, it's a bit bruising---my ego twinged a bit) blow. 

I wish I'd gotten constructive criticism from the publishers, but maybe, just maybe, the story actually doesn't fit what they are doing for the next few issues. That's fine. I already have a few ideas of how to make it stronger. Still, I'd love to know what it is that doesn't work for the people at Apex. 

Even with out real criticism, I'm proud because I made the attempt. It's a step. Now I have to take another step and send it out again. 

At least I'm not afraid. Usually rejection makes me want to crawl back in the cave and not try for a while. This time---I feel different. Maybe I've reached an age where it doesn't mean as much when someone says no. Maybe I believe in my skill a bit more. I don't know exactly. I just feel like this is nothing that can hurt me long term. 

Thanks, Folks

I need to thank those of you who cheer me on and push me forward to keep doing this kind of thing. It's easy for a writer to convince him or herself that her journey is a singular journey. We do the actual work of putting the words on paper alone with music and our computer (or typewriter for the oldsters) as our companions. What is important for the writer to remember is that if they only work alone, then their writing cannot grow, change or get better. Writing begins as a singular journey, but, if the writer is honest, the journey is one that should be filled with people--those who cheer, but are straightforward and honest about those times the writer trips or falls along the way and are willing to pull the writer off the ground so they can continue. 

I am blessed with many people who surround me with love and honesty and encouragement. 

We'll get 'em next round.

Knitting or Witchcraft or Both

Knitting

I woke up one morning in January, 2012, knowing that I had to get some knitting needles and knit. 

Seriously. 

This was an odd experience because it's not often I follow on such urges. Usually, things like this pass over me, and then go away. That day was different. I got up, got dressed, thought about it, and then drove to Hobby Lobby, bought some US 13 (big) needles and some yarn, and came home to search for instructional videos on the computer. 

I spent several weeks doing four things:

1. Watching and replaying YouTube videos on knitting basics.

2. Attempting to use my very oversized needles and yarn in a way that looked vaguely like what I saw on my computer screen. 

3. Cursing quietly when I had to tear out everything and start again.

4. Watching Downton Abbey in between all this craziness. 

So now, my first knitting memories are inextricably linked to memories of Mr. Bates, Lord Grantham, and the Dowager Countess. 

About a month in, I realized that I needed a real teacher, and found one at the local Joann shop (which is still one of my favorite places to shop for supplies). After that, things started taking off, and I began knitting in earnest. Since that time, I've moved from small things, like cup cozies (which I still make on request) to larger things, like my first sweater (which I finished in time for my first knitting anniversary). 

Why Knitting?

I tell most people that I knit to relieve stress. This is mostly true. I think I came to knitting last year because I'd promised myself that I would learn more about relaxation, more specifically how I could relax more, in 2012 (it was not a resolution...I don't do resolutions). When I had that moment of "go, knit," I knew nearly nothing about the craft. After I started though, I noticed that I was generally happier and...yes, calmer (except when I was tearing out something or trying to figure out how to do a stitch left-handed when all I had was right-handed instructions). Apparently others have noticed this trend in their own lives too. Knitting, according to Herbert Benson, physician and author of Relaxation Revolution , "reduces stress hormones and releases endorphins that make you happy." He also asserts that the repetition found in knitting "breaks the train of everyday worry." 

What I don't say often is that I knit because I like the idea of making something with my own hands. Anyone can buy a sweater, a hat, a pair of socks. Anyone. Not so many people can make these things. There is a satisfaction I get from taking a skein or two of yarn, and turning it into something that is useful and pretty. Crafting, making, runs pretty deep in my family. We like working with our hands. My dad makes furniture. Gina paints and embroiders. Mom sews. Stuart works with leather and wood. I knit. I'm pretty sure this need to make is genetic. I know that some people don't get this need. Some people have this idea of "Why should I make what I can go and purchase and be done with?" I guess that thought has merit. I'm just not a pure consumer. I love the process (which is probably why I love writing too---the process) of making something. 

Witchcraft

Yesterday, I was working on one of a pair of gloves I'm knitting for Stuart. This particular project uses double pointed needles (basically four sticks pointed on both ends hold the project together while I use a fifth pointy stick to pull the new stitches. If tiny tiny vampires enter the house, I'm set.) and looks complicated (it's really not, but when you watch, it's hard to know that). Gina was watching me, almost transfixed at one point. 

I said, "What are you looking at?" 

She said, "I'm not sure how you do that. What is that witchcraft?"

Later I mentioned this on Facebook, and Bryan (from the Kiss the Roof of Georgia adventure) observed that some consider magic as a form of weaving. I'd not really considered this, but I see his point. I'm putting a few different basic elements together to build, make something new and (hopefully) useful. It is sort of magical. There is a sort of power to it too, though not the type I'd use to rule the universe or control people or that  absolute power that Shakespeare so aptly observes corrupts absolutely. 

When I knit,  there is the power of happiness. When I share or sell my knitting, that happiness (hopefully) spreads to those who receive my projects. When I knit, I learn more about myself and my own ability to be happy in each moment. Every knit, every purl reminds me that, in that moment, I did something kind of cool and awesome. 

Yeah, I know this is pretty metaphysical. 

Knitting has also helped with my writing. It reminds me that mistakes can be dealt with, and that if I work a little every day, that my skills get better and I'm less afraid to continue. I know these things, really, but my knitting projects are physical reminders of these really internal struggles. 

I also praise myself a bit more. This is something that is hard for me---praising myself. I was raised to believe that tooting my horn was pride (I wish I could make this word have flames coming off of it). Pride is a bad thing, and so thinking that your work is awesome and that you are somehow good was also a bad thing. That is nonsense. I make beautiful things and am a beautiful person. Pride is really when you think you and your stuff are better than anyone else and you have no room to learn and grow and expand your awesome. 

I'm far from the best knitter or writer or person. I have a lot of things to learn. I fail a lot. Still, I know that:

1. I am a pretty awesome person. Quirky? Yes. Struggling? Daily. Awesome? Every day. 

2. I am a good writer. This is something I have to say in my head all the time. It helps to have all of you millions of readers commenting and reading my ramblings. Thank you. 

3. I am a good knitter. Every day I knit, I get better. Every day I get better, I want to knit more. 

Both

Knitting has helped me change a lot of my internal dialogue. How can you really be dark inside long when you are raising your endorphins consistently? When I start hearing the internal dialogue turn to self-loathing (believe me, I can be the queen of self-loathing at times), I just hold up my knitting project and say, "Wow. That's beautiful. How can I be awful and boring and all the other things you, oh self, want me to wallow in? I made that (whatever project). Get over yourself." It doesn't always work. It's not a cure all by any stretch, but it helps. 

So maybe knitting is witchcraft or maybe it's just the endorphins talking. 

Time to get back to the glove... (pictures later, I hope). 

Writing, Publishing, and Facing Fear

Writing

I've been writing for a good portion of my life. I say that I started writing when I was eleven, but it really was before that. I started writing when I was probably six. I got down my World Book Encyclopedia, read up on dinosaurs, and wrote a short (not sure how long, actually) essay on dinosaurs based on what I'd read. I did it to show off to the adults in my life, who thought it was pretty cool. Seems like I tried to illustrate it as well, but don't really remember. 

Words, writing, stories...they've all been a part of my life for always. 

When I was eleven, I began to think seriously that writing was the thing I should do as, perhaps, a career. I also had teachers who encouraged me. I wrote my first sci-fi story when I was twelve, mostly because I got the idea that I could do it as well as anybody, and wanted to see if I was right. Apparently, I was because I got two stories published in the school magazine. A lot of my early stuff was me mimicking those who I admired. I attempted the cool logic of Asimov (that was rough...he knew more than...well, any of us). I worked on imagery based on Bradbury (it's his fault that my story telling is sometimes flowing) and dabbled in epic tones I'd picked up from Burroughs. 

I began to write every day, and even wrote a mystery novella when I was thirteen (it was lost. If I become famous, perhaps one day someone will find a spiral bound notebook with a photo of an owl on the cover in their attic. Hopefully, they will take it to Antiques Roadshow and the experts will recognize it as my lost novella. It'll be worth more because it's handwritten. Good luck!). 

Then I worked on the high school literary magazine for three years. It was awesome, and I published several stories. I look back on them now and sort of cringe a bit, but there you go. A girl's gotta start somewhere. 

The writing continued until I got married. I lost my voice. My muse left in disgust. My bravado was replaced by uncertainty in my craft and my skill as a writer. I could blame my ex-husband, who shot me down a lot, but ultimately, I blame myself for allowing him to shoot me down. I was young, and doubted myself just enough to hold on to his lack of support. I wasted ten years because I became afraid. 

Fear is a killer. 

After my divorce, I went back to school. School is a great place to find your courage. I was surrounded by people who were writers like I was. My professors were awesome. I published two stories while in undergrad, and wrote two plays between undergrad and my Master's program. The hard part was maintaining any sort of writing routine. I was raising two small children, teaching grammar (full-time by the time I was working on my Master's), going to school, and trying to find time (ha) for a personal life. I had periods where I wrote consistently, and other periods when I just had nothing. I marvel at people like J.K. Rowling. She has a discipline that I do not, and it shows. She has a world-famous series of books, and I have---a career at a local technical college and lots of bills. 

Lack of discipline is also a killer. 

Since grad school, I've continued this sporadic writing thing I do. I start a blog. Then I lose interest. I write a little on the side, and then stop. I get so frustrated with myself. 

Currently, I'm working (slowly) on a book with my friend and co-writer, Melissa. I'm so happy she is a patient woman who also struggles with the things I struggle with. This may mean that our project will be years in the making. At this point, that's ok. It doesn't matter as long as our product is readable, publishable, and, most of all, gets us a table at Dragon*Con (John Barrowman better watch out!). This project has really made me contemplate my lack of discipline and work to figure out how to get past it. 

I also took a challenge this week from someone I've befriended on Twitter. I follow a lot of writers who are either self-published (which isn't always as bad a thing as I once believed) or are published in magazines. He said something about the undead and I responded by saying, "The undead have no dignity." This lead to a discussion about how awesome a title that was, and then he threatened to steal the title if I didn't use it within a week. I took that as a challenge, and we agreed to both write stories from that title. This was Wednesday night. He cranked out a 1200 word story in less than two hours---and (as I discovered the next morning) he was drunk. The crazy part is that it's a really good story! I took a bit longer and wrote sober (promise). Yesterday, I finished a 1928 word story. It took me hours of thinking and feeling my way through this microcosm world I'd discovered. I was thrilled, but realized that I was basically an out-of-shape writer. Still, I did it, and, so far, my trusted readers are giving positive feedback. 

Publishing

The last time I was published was back in 2010, and, sadly, I was not paid. That's the toughest thing, especially when you are still figuring how to get published. Lots of places will publish you if you are willing to accept no pay. It's easy to talk yourself into believing that getting published in this no-pay situation will get you out there so that other, paying publishers will notice you. That's kind of like the message a lot of those movies from the studio era of Hollywood tried to present. Go to Hollywood, get a job at a restaurant where, supposedly, producers and directors eat a lot, and you will get noticed if you have talent (my question is how these folks can see your talent when you're simply delivering food, but I digress). Word to new writers--paying publishers will not see you on a non-paying magazine's site. They will see you if you submit your stories to their paying magazine. In a way, my publishing with no pay is a way I held on to my fear. 

Loosing your babies on the world is scary because there are going to be people who really don't like your babies. 

Soon, life took over again, and I stopped writing or trying to be published. I was scared and it was a lot of work I wasn't disciplined enough to keep at. Publishing was a "one day" sort of thing, not a right now thing. 

Facing the Fear

My drunk friend had no idea that I was in that mode. He just challenged me to write. And I did. I kept thinking of something Neil Gaiman said--"One word in front of the other," every time I bogged down and wanted to stop. I wrote during classes when I wasn't dealing with students. I wrote in my office between classes. When I didn't write, I was thinking. Gina gave me suggestions as I bounced ideas off her. I sent my story to several people who are slowly commenting (Thank you. Love you.), and I sent it to my now-sober-drunk friend. He read it, and almost immediately suggested that I send it off to a magazine. 

I was floored. 

I know I'm a good writer. If I were not such a good writer, I wouldn't have my millions of readers on this blog (right, guys?!). Still, it was an experimental story. I was just messing around, right?! 

He sent me a couple of suggestions for possible magazines that might pick it up---and they pay! So I went and looked at the magazines. The submission requirements were not difficult, and soooo...

A draft of my story has been sent to Apex Magazine! If this magazine rejects me, I'm on to another and another (after some rewriting, I'm sure). No more sitting back and saying, "One day." 

So, in thirty days or so, I should have an answer. For now, I'm going to move forward and try not to worry. I'm hoping for good news, but maybe I've already gotten good news, and that is that I need to not fear and just do this. 

I Will Not Be Sad or SAD or Whatever...

Valentine's Day

Hearts, candies, flowers and all those other thing that are marketed to us on this "special day" are everywhere. It would be easy (really, really easy) to post something that is bitter and nasty about this holiday (a created holiday, I might add) and spew about being alone once again...you all know the drill: single woman whines about these things and makes people around her feel sad or maybe uncomfortable (if she does it well, readers will laugh uncomfortably while feeling sad or thinking she's dark and needs psychiatric help). 

I will not do that this year, mostly because I love my friends and, hell, if they have significant others who love them and shower them with gifts or just hugs, HUZZAH!

What I Thought of Writing

Originally, I was going to post a short list of what should not be said to single people and possibly rant about how singles are often treated in a manner that seems to indicate that we are less than because we are not with someone. I even asked my lovely facebook friends (most of whom I actually know in real life and are part of my millions of readers) to help me construct this list. This exercise was educational. 

What Jess Learned 

1. A lot of my single friends and I share similar experiences:

   

   a. Having people who barely know us attempt to set us up with someone they know is perfect for you. 

   b. Having people comment about your singleness and/or not having children.

   c. Having people observe that the "right" person will eventually come into your life...if you wait. 

   d. Having people thinking that there is something wrong because you are single. 

At this point, I want to say that I'm not passing judgement on anyone. I'm just recording my research. 

2. That I may or may not be oversensitive about how I take the things people say and do in regards to my singleness. Some of my married friends observed that perhaps comments that hurt should be ignored or allowed to pass. These observations are valid. I think that it is easy to whine and be hurt by comments that are meant as attempts to support or encourage or express concern. Sometimes, however, I think our complaints are also valid, especially when comments are made by persons who have not taken time to learn our individual situations. Perhaps such comments are more bearable when we know that the commenter knows who we are and what our singleness means to us personally.

Most of the time, I can and do shake off the hurt and just chalk it up to the commenter not knowing the situation or attempting to be kind. Sometimes, however, it's hard to paste my "happy pastor's wife smile" (yes, this is a real thing that I learned when I was a pastor's wife [you heard me]). 

3. That when asked what things singles love to hear said in regards to their status, there were only a few answers:

    a. My friend, Beth, who was recently remarried (I love that!), said that she loved being told that she was a strong, brave woman because she faced raising children alone. I have to agree with her--those comments were often the ones that allowed me to keep going, especially in the early days after my divorce. 

    b. My friend, Jennifer (who is one of the coolest people I know) said that a friend once said to her that a if a straight man isn't married, there's something wrong with him, but if a straight woman isn't married, she's smart. I would observe that this could actually go both ways. I've met perfectly awesome straight, unmarried guys and really messed up straight, unmarried women. It's an interesting observation, however. 

Singles Awareness Day

So many people observe tomorrow as Singles Awareness Day. To me, this is just kinda wrongheaded because the term spells SAD. While Valentine's Day does make me sad at times, I've made a conscious decision to refuse to accept that tomorrow is sad or SAD. Why the hell is it sad that I am single? 

Instead, tomorrow is a day that will be awesome because:

1. I will be creative and work on this awesome story I'm writing. 

2. I will embrace being River Song (my friend Kathy has said that I am River Song, probably because I am a flirt and love good banter), and banter as much as I can tomorrow (not with my students---good grief, people, what DO you take me for?) because it's fun and I can and why not?

3. I will be AWESOME. I do not need to know that every kiss begins with Kay. I know that I am awesome. An actual kiss will just be a bonus on top of knowing that I am AWESOME. (The all caps only proves that, right?). 

4. I will most likely wait until Friday and purchase some chocolates for myself (at 50-75% off the retail the rest of you spent previous to Thursday) and revel in the fact that I will not have to share them. 

Tomorrow should not be Singles Awareness Day. God, that sounds so clinical, huh? Why not Singles Awesomeness Day? I wonder if we could get Neil Patrick Harris to do a PSA for that? 

And now a PSA

Conclusion(s)...

What I've come to over the years is that I'm not defined by my marital, relationshipal, or other -al status alone. Yeah, I'm single. Have been for (counts fingers...counts most of toes) a while. I'm also other things too. I'm a mom. I'm an artist. I'm a teacher. I'm funny and weird and love games (not the kind that screws with people, although I can also be a bit of a prankster) and learning (life-long student). 

I cannot let being single hold me back. Life is just too short. 

Sometimes, I am not going to lie to you, I am going to be sad or frustrated about being single. I will have to change the channel so I don't have to hear another woman squeal about how "he got it at Jarrod." I will look at certain holidays and miss certain rituals because I'm not with anyone and kissing a complete stranger is just weird as hell. 

Still, I will not allow myself to let it consume me. I hope, those of you in my millions of readers who are single like me, you will not allow it to consume you either. I hope that you will, instead, go out, have a lovely time, maybe have a beer and kick back while all those other schlubs scramble around tomorrow to find something to get their sweeties because they forgot. If we take off early from work, we can get a front row seat for that action, and it should be really fun. 

Cheers, my dears! 

King of the Nerds or Being a Nerd is Hot (At Least It Is Now)

Life-Long Nerd Watches Cynically

When I heard about TBS creating a "reality" (translation:what sells; not necessarily related to actual happenings or people) show called King of the Nerds, I rolled my eyes and thought of all the ways a show like this could be used to make really intelligent and interesting people the butt of the on-going joke that involves anyone on tv who presents as intelligent, interesting, or different. What made it worse is that the hosts were going to be Lewis and Booger from Revenge of the Nerds (which, for the record, is a really funny movie). For those of you who are unfamiliar, here's the trailer:

Now, I want to point out that Revenge of the Nerds, by my estimation, did not do anything bad for nerds. In fact, it was a pretty positive movie. The nerds won by doing what they do best--being themselves. 

Still, I was worried that the new series would take things a step or two backwards. Nerds have stepped into the spotlight a lot in the last few years. The Internet has made nerds and the things many nerds are interested in,  like science, gaming, and comic books, almost mainstream. There are even famous nerds like Wil Wheaton (if there is a possible King of Famous Nerds, he's it) and the lovely Felicia Day. I think my reaction was fair. As a nerd myself, I have to fight the whole thought that while people might love me now, there is a good chance some sort of humiliation I did not anticipate while on my acceptance high is coming to punch me in the stomach and remind me that I'm not really as cool or acceptable as all that. 

My son convinced me to watch the premier episode anyway, and I told him I would watch until someone was treated poorly or was publicly humiliated (as I feared someone would be). 

Nerd Surprise

As the contestants introduced themselves, I realized that a wide-range of nerdom was addressed. There are gamer girls, LARP girls, an world-famous Internet hacker (although someone mused that if he was world-famous he must not be that good of a hacker), a neuroscientist, and math and science majors. These people take gifted to a new level. It's kind of cool. I know people like these people, and I know how cool they are, even as they are awkward and unsure sometimes. I speak their language and get their jokes. I still braced for some sort of nerd take-down. 

I was pleased that never happened. 

Nerdvana, the house where the contestants live together while they compete (this is something that must happen according to the Laws of Reality TV), is filled with all sorts of gadgets and computers and things that the contestants will find interesting and make them feel safe. The hosts extend that safe feeling by actually seeming to have a knowledge of what the contestants are talking about and doing in and out of game. Expectations are flipped on their head early, when one contestant is the last to be chosen for a team. I like that this happened because it's something that anyone who is a nerd has experienced, and it's soul-crushing, especially as a youngster. Instead of making this another soul-crushing experience for Alana (who is now famous for saying, "I've been losing all my life. That's why I'm a $@)#*! nerd!"), she is given immunity for being last. 

I found myself cheering! The show is respectful and funny. The contestants are people I'd like to know (except maybe Virgil, the hacker-guy. I think he's not nearly as cool as he thinks he is). Maybe the show will eventually turn ugly, but I doubt it. There is a positive vibe that is much like that of Revenge of the Nerds, and the best part is that the contestants don't have to face off against the "beautiful people." They just have to show off their mad skills. 

Being a Nerd is Hot

It's still something of a shock to see how being a nerd is now not necessarily a punishable offense. I probably am taking that idea a bit far, but I can honestly say there have been times that people have been less than kind because I enjoyed things or thought of things that were different than mainstream. I even had a teacher in high school who, in real plain terms, told me that I was probably going to hell for reading fantasy and science fiction novels. Looking back, I wish I'd looked at him and told him that I'd ride proudly into hell on the back of a dragon wearing armor and wielding a laser rifle in one hand and a hardback copy of Fahrenheit 451 in the other. Instead, I ignored him and continued to read my Piers Anthony in his class. As of yet, I have still not made it to hell (except that one time I went with a party during a game of Dungeons and Dragons my friend Ed DM'd. We kicked some demon ass, and one of my friends smacked a demon with a boat---no kidding). 

Present day, I'm told that Nerd Girls are hot. I wonder why this didn't happen sooner! We've always been hot. As much as I adore Felicia Day, we were hot long before she was around. We are shy and awkward and dance funny and sometimes dress in ways that are different, but we are hot. What makes us hot? We know stuff. We can fix your computers and teach your children (if you'll allow us). We are students of people and science and literature and life. We grow into people you want to know. We create things and dream really strange wonderful dreams that become the stuff of the amazing. 

Nerd guys have always been hot too. Look at Tesla and Franklin. Brilliant men who were attractive and engaging. You have to be impressed by a man who can create a death ray, or invent things like libraries and bifocal glasses. Nerd guys also know stuff. Knowledge is power. It's also really attractive when used properly. 

Conclusion

Watch the show. Make your own conclusion. If you don't know any nerds (something I cannot believe), get to know a few. We hang in places like bookstores, coffee shops, libraries, and parks. You may see some of us sitting around a table playing games and rolling dice. If you're nice, we may let you play too.