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My Clocks Hate Me! I Don’t Have Time to Write! Step One Continued

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Step 1 – Admitted we were powerless over our art and our creative lives had become unmanageable.

Now, my friends, we talk about the time card. I can’t write because I don’t have time. That’s playing the time card. You can put this under powerless, but really, the time card is more about unmanageability. Or really, a perceived unmanageability.

More and more, I’m seeing playing the time card as a cop out. I have a friend who writes novels on his cell phone when there is a lull at work. On his cell phone. With his thumbs.

Let me repeat that.  HE WRITES NOVELS WITH HIS THUMBS ON HIS CELL PHONE!

Another woman I talked to writes whenever she has a spare moment, like waiting in line to pick up her kids from school. Yeah, whips out her laptop and types a couple of words while in the carpool pickup lane.

If you aren’t blocked, if you feel fearless and inspired, you’ll find the time. Yes, you might not sleep as much as you want, and yes, your TV time might get clipped, but the bottom line, there are people, right now, with less time than you, doing more. So more and more, when I play the time card, it’s because there’s something else going on.

One old idea that I had that relates directly to the time card is the all-or-nothing idea.

If I can’t write for eight hours a day, I won’t write at all. I would fritter away my writing time, then look at the clock, and sigh. Only two hours to write? Why even bother? And so I wouldn’t write that day. Artists are people who create art. When I’m writing, I’m a writer. When I’m not, I’m just a human being. We have lots of humans on this planet. Be an artist. Create.

I love the stories about Anthony Trollope.

He was just like us, he had a day job, but every day he would write for two hours in the morning. He was a machine. If he finished one novel, and he still had fifteen minutes left in his writing time, he’d start the next one, and homeboy produced those Victorian novels you can murder people with. Lots and lots of words, two hours a day.

Once I realized I was playing the all-or-nothing game, I swore that I would use whatever time I had to write. Sometimes I only had forty-five minutes. Sometimes less, but I would put the time in because every minute counts. And once I got into a rhythm, I would naturally drift into writing.

The reality is this: most of life is stupid habit. If you get into the habit of art, even when you don’t want to create, you’ll find yourself just doing it anyway because it’s just what you do from 6 a.m. to 8 a.m. Stupid, blind habit. And the minutes pile up fast, just doing a little bit every day.

Use the time you have wisely. A friend of mine says he wastes his life in ten-minute increments. You could write epic novels in ten-minutes increments. Go forth. Write. Create. Use your minutes.

Because before you know it, they will be gone.

Mondays Are Hell – The Demons I Met at the 2012 RT Book Lovers Convention

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Demons were everywhere at the 2012 RT Book Lover Convention, no really, the place was full of them, smoking, dripping hellfire, eating Chicago-deep dish, and at the bar, oh lord, at the bar, drinking cranberry juice before heading out onto the dance floor to wiggle it with LMFAO…

“I’m a demon and I know it!”

Here are just some of the demons and devils I met at RT.

 

Embrace the Blond

Of course, I have to start with the blonde demon that captured my heart, the blonde demon that is Elizabeth Cheryl.  Actually, she was a demon, but then a Wiccan priestess cast a spell and transformed her into an angel.  She’s my BFF at RT until the end of the world and beyond.  I heart her so much.

 

And then, this one time, at RT, I was in the big Saturday Book Fair, and demons were everywhere, but then Kathryn Falk walked in, the woman who started RT, and the demons took one look at her and fled because she is the personification of power, poise, grace and has been in the book business a long time.  And once you’ve wrestled with authors, reviewers, agents, editors, readers, and aspiring writers, well, demons are easy after all that.

Being a writer is sometimes like walking through hell.  Lucky I have friends.  Jeanne C. Stein and Jodi Thomas were at RT.  They help me with the demons.  And they’re bestselling authors.

Kendaaron. Oui.

Hey!  Is that Kendall Gray?  It is Kendall Gray!. SHE WRITES BOOKS ABOUT WHALES!  Whales, elementals, brave battles to save the world.  With her brassy humor and her hard-girl bravado, well, I thought she was possessed by a demon at first because her hair was green, and green-haired demons are common in Chicago.  But then, when she talked about her book, and how passionate she is about whales and life, well, I knew, she was another angel, and green-haired angels are common in my books.

 

We’re Kendaaron when we’re together.  Kind of a big deal.

Welcome!

Ciara Knight had a hard time with a demon for a minute, but then she pulled through.  Writers conferences are all about laughing, crying, and the bar, oh lord, the bar.

 

 

 

Lynn Rush, Kendall Grey, Jordan K. Rose, Cole Gibson

And Cole Gibson, who is awesome, also had a run-in with a demon, and it was hard, but this world can get hard, and  we’re just writers trying to make it through another day to string words together on a page.  Which Cole does so well.

And then Liz Pelletier, who is cool and calm, stared down a demon at the bar.  Liz is one of the co-founders of Entangled Press, and we chatted.  All the while, she stared down that demon until it slithered off.  She is a warrior.

Liz In The Middle

Mark Johnson, who has a CD out, and who was a cover model, well, we talked God, Jesus, demons and he bore witness to his beliefs and I haven’t heard a good testimony in awhile, and it felt good.  Like walking in a clean, spring rain, warm with summer.  I hope he reads my book.  I’d like to talk to that guy about it.

 Lori Witt.  Lori, Lori, Lori.  Lori doesn’t believe in demons.  She believes in working hard, writing books, and living in Omaha.  Believe me, it takes faith to live in Omaha.  We talked and she turned out to be incredibly quotable.  “I don’t like flesh people”.  Ha!  And, “Writers are expected to be rock stars, but they’re designed to be roadies.”  Except for me.  I am the rock star writer of the 21st century.  Hmm, the balding rock star writer of the 21st century.

Karina Cooper, well, she and I found a dirigible built for two, and we rocketed around the convention center, killing demons with ether pistols, and she drove and worked the gun, and I kept her and the furnace loaded, and we both killed tons of demons until we ran out of coal and crashed.  And when we walked from the wreckage, we pulled off our smoke-blackened goggles, sang heroic Abney Park songs until the hotel staff shushed us.  It was epic.  Epically steampunk!

And do you know who brought us tea after the crash and shushing?  Suzanne Lazear.  It was Earl Grey.  Hot.

You’d think my conversation with Lori Perkins, High Priestess of Ravenous Romance, would be fraught with demons.   Sexy demons who sparkle.  Nope.  Our conversation was spicy, but very real, and demons don’t like reality.  They prefer illusion and deception, and our conversation was anything but that.  She’s another warrior of the industry who understands a thing or two about life and love.

I got possessed by a demon.  I stole Hildie McQueen’s awesome green clickable sharpie.  I owe her one.  I am going to buy a box of them.  But keep the green one.  Because I got possessed by a demon.  Hildie had the brightest smile and best laugh at RT.

Hildie McQueen

Heather Savage, who is the editor-in-chief at Staccato Press, came up to me and told me she was a rogue demon hunter.  I asked her, “What’s a rogue demon?”  She slapped me.  Then returned to slaying demons.  Which is prolly a lot like editing.

Heather Savage and Two Rogue Demons

 

 

Jordan K. Rose

Jordan K. Rose tolerated my demoness, which I’m grateful for.  I needed kindness and Jordan was kind.

 

 

 

For the most part, it’s too cold in Canada for demons, but Joanne Brothwell proves that all Canadians have a little evil in them.  She fought to sign books, and she sold books, and she wooed everyone and she walked around RT red hot.  She has a nice smile as well, but if you look closely, you’ll see a little demon when she smiles.

Joanne, A Fairy Demon, A Blonde Demon

I talked with Kayla Perrin, Naomi James, and Mimi Tremont and we talked about how the demons of history can haunt us.  I had a lovely conversation with them all and I’m a better man for it.  If you haven’t gotten out of your zip code in a while, it’s time to go across town and shop at a different store for a change.  Demons look for people who hide in their homes.  Demons love the stagnant and close-minded.

Clay and Susan Griffith, who write steampunk vampire books, talked to me and encouraged me.  I needed it.  I go despairing sometimes.

For a long time, people thought women were demons.  I know, weird, huh?  They even burned some.  I talked with Delilah Marvelle and Maure Clairmont about the 19th century, sexual oppression, dark gothic romance, and lesbian prostitution in post-apocalyptic America.  We agreed.  People can get a little kooky about sex.

For a long time I thought all book bloggers were possessed by the Devil.  I mean, reviewing books and crucifying writers?  Sounds like demon work to me.  But talking with Jackie Morgan and Rayna Scherer, I realized book bloggers love books.  Simple as that.  Can’t be too evil if you love books.  I mean, you can, but it takes work.

Two Women.  Cropped.  I feel snark coming on.

Cecily White and I have a love/hate relationship.  I love her.  She hates me.  The demon who made me steal Hildie McQueen’s pen makes me tell that joke over and over and over at the conference.  Cecily just smiled, snarked it up, which made me love her even more.  Which made her hate me even more.  It’s a good setup.  I think I took a picture with her and Noelle Pierce, but I’m not 100% sure.

 

Jenna Barton sold a book at the conference.  Which proves that even though there were some demons at RT, there were also the angels of God blessing us all.  Especially erotica writers because God loves sex.  Why do you think He/She/It/They give it to us in the first place?

Jenna? Yes. Sold!

So yes, lots of demons, angels, drama, tears and laughter.  RT was the most satisfying writers conference I have ever been to as a published author and I will keep going back there until I die.  And then I want my ashes scattered there.  I know I missed a ton of people I talked to, and I feel bad for that, so if you feel slighted, next year in Kansas City, you get a free punch.

Thanks for the camaraderie, friendship, support, and love.  Hugs, cuddles, and kisses to you all.

Or was that too girly?  Okay, gotta butch it up.  Beer, football, and grunting to all, and to all a good night.

 

 

Heavenly Fridays – Angel in a Corner – J.D. Watts Presents!

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So, here I am, looking for cool people to follow on Twitter, and I come across a woman, J.D. Watts, who is writing angel books. And I pause. Oh yes, I pause. And I realize, I should ask her to guest blog. But she doesn’t know me. I could be Lucifer, trying to tempt her (who says I’m not, bwa-ha-ha), but I want to live a life of courage and risk, so I emailed and asked her to guest blog. She agreed. And the rest is this blog right here, right now.

J.D. has always been a writer, always dreaming and thinking of ideas for stories or plotlines, she just never sat down and put pen to paper until the fall of 2008. Eventually she gathered her courage to enter the first part of her original novel into the 2010 Original Fiction Contest at The Writer’s Coffee Shop. That story won the young adult category and led to her contract for the first novel in her Children of Creation series: Convergence.

I was raised in church and reading the Bible, so I was always curious about angels. To be honest though, what really piqued my interest was an event that happened when I was young. It’s practically family legend now. I’ve heard the story so many times that I feel like I remember it, but I don’t have a first-hand memory of the event since I was only two. The little details of the story, however, are at the heart and soul of the concepts of angels, fallen angels, and guardian angels that I used in my Children of Creation book series.

Even to this day, 31 years later, my mom still shivers a little when she tells the story.

When I was little, my dad was an over-the-road truck driver and was gone more than he was home. Mom and I got used to being on our own and handling most situations. One day, we were getting ready to run errands. Mom was rushing me to put on my shoes and head out when I stopped. I kept staring at this one corner of our living room. There was nothing of interest there to stare at, and yet I seemed spellbound.

My mom called for me to stop messing around and get in the car, but I wouldn’t budge. Finally, she walked over to me and asked me what I was staring at and I pointed and said, “The man in the corner.”

My Mom looked in the corner and saw nothing. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing there, baby.”

As serious as could be, I looked up at her and said. “Yes there is, Mommy. Can’t you see him? He’s all white.”

Mom said chills went down her spine and she just couldn’t really deal with what I was saying. She just sort of made a joke of it. She told me to stop being so silly and pulled me by the hand out the door, but it really disturbed her. She kept thinking about everything that happened and how serious I was, and yet I wasn’t frightened at all. We really don’t know for sure, especially since I don’t remember it happening at all, but we’ve often wondered if I wasn’t seeing an angel in our midst. Every night in our prayers, Mom always asked God to send his angels to watch over us. Maybe, just maybe, he’d answered her…

With a story like this in my history, not to mention my upbringing, I don’t think it’s all that surprising that once I sat down to write a story of my own design it ended up being about a teenager who could see angels when others couldn’t. I really enjoyed making my lead character, Dani, an embodiment of that little girl who saw someone in our house that nobody else could see…only, unlike two-year-old me, she was charged with a mission.

 

J.D’s website
On twitter
On Goodreads
Buy Convergence on Amazon