Thursday's Children

I'm new to the Thursday's Child thing, but thought I'd give it a try.

I was asked what inspires me, and while there's a ton of answers I can give to that question, today's answer is Evergreens.

They are magnificent, mystical, full of history, and just downright magical. While hiking, I know I'm in the presence of greatness. Muse-feeding greatness. 

My manuscript, DEADLY SPLENDOR, is about a group of sisters who are descendants of man-eating folkloric women. They derive from a few different types of creatures, but one in particular was said to live in the mist surrounding evergreens. The huldra. The backs of the huldra looked like bark, to help them blend in. A huldra woman would sit on the lower branches or rest against the trunk of a tree, at the edge of the woods, waiting for a man to cross her path. With a wink and a come-hither hand gesture, she'd lure the man deeper into the forest. He'd trail her as the evergreens grew dense and the sunlight withered to nothing more than strands of yellow filtered through layers of branches. That's where her sisters would lay in wait for meal time. 

You'll see evergreens in every book I've written. Because they inspire magical stories. What inspires you?

*I took these pictures during a hike*

      

Poverty in YA Fiction?

This isn't the lean-to. It's a pump house on
my parent's property.

Today I read a post stating that YA fiction deals with bullying and other social issues, but not poverty. Is that true? Have you read a YA story with a character living in hunger and poverty? I'm assuming the author wasn't including dystopian or post apocalyptic stories.  Just a guess. ;)

I'm asking, because I did write that kind of story. It's my work in progress, Shattered Choices. My female main character never mentions her hunger, but you certainly see she's living in squalor.

I loosely modeled my MC, April, after the girl living across the street from me. I was in high school and she was too. I lived in the boonies. Way out. And across the country road from me, was a shack. Normally it was empty. It had barely any windows still intact. The roof was caving in. Blackberry brambles had taken over the rotted front porch and grew up the outside walls.

The history lover in me would stand in my long, gravel driveway and stare at that lean-to, wondering what it had looked like when it was newly built. Who had lived in it.

My parent's driveway & my muddy dog. :)

And then one morning a new girl stood at my bus stop. She was quiet and my age. After a few days of getting on the bus in silence, I started a conversation, excited to make a friend who actually lived near me. Because NOBODY lived near me. I don't remember her talking about herself much.

I do remember her greasy hair. How she wore too much makeup, and applied it on the bus, after the sun lit up the dark morning sky. I remember how her clothes carried the scent of mildew. How during the one time she'd let me in her house, I'd noticed they used a lantern for light and sheets of thick plastic stabled over the window holes to help block the cold wind keep any kind of heat in the home. When I asked how they were able to shower without electricity and water, she explained that her family took rolls of quarters down the street to the lake camping grounds and used the public showers, once or twice a week.

After maybe a month or two, she stopped boarding the bus. Stopped walking the woods with me. And I

never saw her again.

The woods behind my parent's house at twilight.

I knew her for such a short time, I don't even remember her name. And the lean-to doesn't exist anymore, it was bulldozed. But she definitely left an imprint on my heart, because the night I dreamed what would lead to Shattered Choices, she was the girl Lucas would cross dimensions for. She was the girl he fell in love with. And she was the girl he'd risk everything to save.

Maybe one day Shattered Choices will be published and teens will be able to learn about, or relate to the painful reality of poverty in our country.

So what YA novels have you read dealing with poverty and hunger?    

Allura & David's Song

Reminds me of the way Allura feels about David in DEADLY SPLENDOR.

Be In The Know

So much going on this week, guys. At least for the writer who has a finished manuscript and is ready to query. :)

It's the last day to submit a query for Write On Con's Pitch Fest. Need more information? Go here.

Then we've got Brenda Drakes Pitch Madness kicking off this Friday. Check it out here.

Also this Friday, those writers who submitted a snarky sample of work to Liz Pelletier in hopes of being chosen to write her spec book, will be notified as to who made it to the next round--the interview round. Haven't heard about this one? It happened really quickly. I think it started on Twitter then turned into a blog post and then BAM the submission window was over. Still, Liz reported receiving 118 samples. Want to be in the know? Check it out here.

If you're thinking about entering Pitch Fest and/or Pitch Madness, let me encourage you to do it. If your manuscript is query-ready, of course. I entered Pitch Fest, I plan on entering Pitch Madness, and I threw my sample in the ring for Liz's spec book opportunity. And let me tell you, I am NOT LUCKY at these blog contest things. Thankfully, I've done well in regular conference writing contests, but for some reason I fail miserably with the whole online avenue.

But it's fun, anyway. I get to meet other writers. I get to encourage and critique. I get to receive encouragement and critiques. :) And I think it helps me to become a better writer and build that thick skin everyone's always talking about.

Is there anything else happening this week in a writerly way? Have you entered any of these?  

*And now an adorable picture that made my morning.*

Readjusting My BIG-GIRL Tights

*sigh*

I think it's time to readjust my big-girl tights. (They're black with sparkly mermaid tails, by the way.)

For the last eight years my family has been moving around the country. A lot. Every six month to two years, in fact. During that time I did not work outside the home. Oh, I did births as a doula and taught childbirth classes, but that wasn't even part time. It was here and there. 

But before all the moving around, I was an optician. 

And now we're done moving. We're settled. My kids are both in school. 

It's time to go back to work--part time--as an optician. 

Ask me how I feel about this and you may get different answers from one moment to the next. Because despite the fact that I've been looking forward to joining the workforce, I'm incredibly scared that it'll do away with my writing time. That the responsibilities of life will gobble up my dream and spit me out. 

I know this doesn't have to be true.   

My best friend and critique partner works full time. Many authors have careers outside of writing. I get that. So why do I feel as though I'm unwillingly trading one future for another? 

Because I'm sick of these flip-flop feelings, I need your help. Do you work outside the home? What do you do? How has it changed your writing? Good or bad? Thanks guys! I really look forward to hearing about your experiences! 

The THING I Do

There's this thing I do. 

No. Not that. 

*Blushes*

The OTHER thing. 

I do it when I'm having a tough writerly day. Or maybe even a good one. I do it for inspiration to keep pressing on. Or the guts to dare to dream. 

You can do it too. 

Think of one of your favorite authors. They have to be living and breathing and fairly current. Okay, got one in mind? Next go to their webpage. Find their blog. Scroll down to see when they started their blog. Click on it. The very first month of the first year. And read. Was it before their first book came out? Was it before they even had an agent or a first book? 

Yeah, those are the best. 

Read their hopes and wishes to one day get an agent. To one day get a book deal. Note the lack of comments they received on their posts. Connect with them in their frustrations over waiting and desperately wanting. 

And then read their good news. The day the planets aligned for them. And how they got there. 

I promise, it'll plaster a hopeful smile on your face. That fire burning inside, pushing you to introduce the world to those characters in your head, will increase till it's a roaring blaze.      

A Rough Week

Last week was rough. And yes, you can go ahead and assume what type of rough, because it was such a hard week, I'm sure more than one explanation applies.

So I vowed something to myself. I vowed not to check my email all weekend. And since it's become such a regular part of my day--like every five minutes--I even moved the email icon on my phone to the last app page. Did I still pick up the purple iPhone to check? Yes. But by the time I swiped to the last page in a fog of email addiction, I was coherent enough to remember my vow.

I can't say that this impromptu weekend fast from all things email has given me any perspective. But it has temporarily lifted the weight of the "What's in my inbox? Is it a rejection?" burden.

And you know what? Maybe it has given me an ounce of perspective.

In my four years of trying, I have not had as rough a week on my path to publication as I did last week. I think that counts for something. It's another notch in my belt, if you will. An algae covered, slippery stepping stone on a river whose stream I'm traveling against, and I didn't fall. I slid a little. But I quickly gained my footing, stilled myself to correct my balance, and decided more than ever to press onward.

My critique partner/best friend recently reminded me of my favorite saying: The darkest hour is before dawn. And I'm hoping this time, it's true. :)

Does that saying encourage you? Have you been on a writing high lately, or a writing low?  

PS. After you comment, this post is VERY good. I suggest giving it a read, especially if you're in the query trenches or submission hell.