Forcing Myself to Learn

So, you know how my publisher went out of business last fall? At the time, I knew very little about self-publishing. But thanks to the good people at Rhemalda, I knew a LOT more about publishing than I had before I signed with them. They were very good to keep me involved in the process, patiently explaining all the hows and whys of everything they did, and because of that, I learned. And I took that knowledge with me.

Now I’m getting ready to release Birthright, the sequel to Descendant, and I’m really missing my Rhemalda family. Besides the support and friendship, I am realizing all over again how much I have left to learn. Some days it’s overwhelming. But I still know the things they taught me, and I’m adding to that arsenal of experience every day. I have some amazing, wonderful, talented friends who are patient and kind, and who have all contributed in one way or another to my success as an author. Without them, I couldn’t do this. Not the way I need to.

Even so, there’s a lot that I still don’t know. I can’t continue to ask others to help me with certain things, or have them do it for me. I have to figure out how to be a grown up author. And it’s both scary and exhilarating at the same time. There’s a certain feeling of accomplishment with each mountain of frustration I conquer and each new thing learned.  

I’m not going to lie. Publishing a book is hard. That’s why publishing houses hire entire teams of people. But I’m getting there. I’m forcing myself to learn it. Because I have no idea what’s in my future, and knowing these things can only help me grow.

Suddenly, I remember what it’s like to be in high school again, and I have a renewed sympathy for my young adult children who are having to do this kind of learning in every aspect of life. It’s hard. It’s scary. It’s exhilarating.

What about you? What scary things have you learned lately?

One of the many things I've learned this month.

Where I Was Standing

Word is spreading about my publisher’s recent announcement that they are closing. I have only had days to process, and because there are a lot of details and options to sift through, I can’t tell you with any certainty what will happen next with my newly released baby, DESCENDANT. (But don’t worry—I won’t let it just disappear!)

I’ve remained relatively quiet about this news because frankly, I’m a bit in shock. Less than a week previous to receiving this notification, my publisher and I discussed details about me turning in the sequel to DESCENDANT, which is about finished. Also, the way I found out was… less than ideal.

You see, I was at WorldCON, a science fiction and fantasy convention which happened to be held in San Antonio this year. It was midnight, and I was attending a social gathering, surrounded by other authors, fans, readers, and generally AWESOME people. At some point, amongst our giggling and chatting, I pulled out my phone to friend one of my new acquaintances on Facebook and my eye landed on a notice in the private Rhemalda Authors Facebook group. I won’t go into details, but I will just say the notice was lengthy, detailed, and devastating. And yes, I saw it first on Facebook.

Standing in a dark room, surrounded by excessively happy people, the floor fell out from under me. And for a few very long seconds, I couldn’t breathe.

I don’t remember exactly what happened next, but I handed my phone to a friend, who whispered something to my brother and cousin (who both awesomely accompanied me to the Convention—along with my awesome friend), and then all these arms enveloped me in a giant group hug while I cried.

When the fog lifted and the arms were removed, a swarm of supportive people joined in. Not just my family, but so many other supportive people, some of whom hardly knew me at all, but who were genuinely concerned for my welfare and happiness. Everyone in that place hugged me at some point, even though few of them knew why.

I received support from a woman who works for a company specializing in publicity, from a number of successful authors, from a Hugo winning artist, and also an editor. I was serenaded with a Monty Python sketch, and saluted, and cheered on, and held up until the tears turned to laughter, and my feet somehow found the floor again.

That night, a friend reminded me that there are no mistakes, only happy accidents. And by the time he said it, I knew that no matter what road I choose from here, I am going to be okay. My career is still moving forward, and I can still look forward to celebrating enormous success.   

The world righted itself because I realized that no matter what happens, I will never have to stand alone.

In the days that followed, I received more proof in the form of messages, phone calls, texts, and emails and so much verbal support I almost can't keep up with it. 

There will be news in the future, and soon I will go through the painful process of making decisions and figuring out details. But for now, I am more than okay. I am amazing and wonderful and zen. I’m happy with all my future possibilities. And I attribute that in large part to where I was standing when I got the news, and where I continue to stand daily. Completely surrounded by love.

Confronting the Things

In the previous post, I talked about small things, and how much harder everything else becomes when we try to cram in too much. It’s easy to say we’re going to cut out those small things, but not as easy to implement those changes. Every so often, this involves confronting people, or behaviors, or inner demons, or real ones  or whatever whatever.

Most of the time, I’d prefer to hide my head under a pillow and ignore the thing until it goes away. But. Doesn’t generally work, because when I remove the pillow the THING is still there. And it seems bigger. Like it grew when I wasn’t looking.  (It’s a THING in all caps.)

And then it’s harder to confront. But it still needs to be done. Vocally, physically, emotionally confronted.

*grumbles and whines*

It takes courage to speak up. To disagree. To *gulp* say no (especially when you originally said yes out of guilt or fear or whatever). But courage is one of those bricks we need. A really important one. So, it needs to be molded and fired to just the right shape.

I think I have that courage. But my well is running a little dry, so I’ll have to scoop way down to find it. But when I do, I’ll confront all the THINGS that consume me, and vanquish them. And then, my friends, I’ll figure out where to put the next brick.

What about you? Do you have a hard time confronting your THINGS? 

Adapting

I’m Back! Well, Sort Of.

*waves from sunny Texas*

Yep, that’s right. We survived the packing/loading/driving/unloading/traveling portion of our move from Northern Utah to South Texas. I kind of feel like we’re still moving, and will continue to be moving for like, another year. Or maybe more. And I’m not 100% sure we’ll ever find some things we packed, because, well, they never seem to be in the boxes we thought they were in or whatever. But we are on the other side of our long, long (did I say LONG?) moving journey, and in the process of adapting to our new environment.

To give you a new idea of what this adaptation involves, we went from this:

And this:

To this:

And this:

But even more than environmental adaptations, we’re getting oriented with our new town and surrounding areas, learning about the culture, and trying to integrate ourselves into the community.

Yes, it’s a lot. My brain = way past capacity. (And I am SO glad I didn’t do NaNo this year.)

But things are starting to calm a bit, and I’m planning to dive back into writing here soon. In the meantime, I want to leave you with a thought that’s been swimming in my head this week.

I think it takes sacrifice and service to do great things, and in order for us to become great (as people) we have to experience a lot of both. Opportunity doesn’t always come knocking on your door. More often than not, we have to search very hard to find it, and then decide to do take it, even if it means making that big sacrifice, or a number of sacrifices, and doing things that are hard, hard, HARD.

Sometimes, that’s what it takes to make a difference.

Sometimes, that’s the only way to break a monotonous pattern.

Sometimes, that’s exactly the kind of growth our souls crave.

It’s a personal character arc!

So, um. Now that I bore my soul for the week, have any of you recently experienced a personal arc of that variety? Do share!  

The Best Outcome Starts with a Hard Choice

Last weekend, my family and I flew to Texas to scope out the city where we will be moving, and to look for a rental house to live in until our home in Utah sells. It’s a beautiful place, close to the water (I’ve always dreamed of living near the ocean) and small enough to not be overwhelming, while near enough to a bigger city to not make us feel isolated. Sort of the best of both worlds.

And if it weren’t for all the comforts and people we’re leaving behind, our decision to move there would have been a no brainer.

But we are leaving behind people we love, and a place where we’re established and comfortable. Where my kids have friends and we all know what to expect of things as small as seasonal changes, and as big as cultural expectations. And I’m not going to lie. It’s not an easy thing to do. Even with all the benefits to our family (there’s a really good job involved) it’s hard.

So why are we doing it?

Because we know that the best results usually start with the hardest decisions. And though I know I’ve said it before, it bears mentioning again. We can do hard things.

We. Can. Do. Hard. Things.

These are the things that make us strong. That define us. That determine our future. And as much as we humans might wish otherwise, this is the way dreams are discovered.

This move isn’t an easy one. There will be tears and heartache and grief. But it’s nothing we can’t handle. Because we’re dreamers, and it’s just what we do.

What about you? What hard thing are you doing this month?

One Last Secret

So. Um. We’re still celebrating at our house. But it’s a different kind of celebrating than I did when all this happened. More like a holy-crap-what-did-we-get-ourselves-into? kind of celebrating. And a pack-your-entire-life-and-family-in-a-truck kind of celebrating.

Because people, the Giles family…

Is MOVING TO TEXAS!!!

That’s right, y'all.  Portland, Texas, to be specific, which is right outside Corpus Christi. Best part?

This.

We expect to be there just before Thanksgiving. Which means I will not be writing a novel this November, but I will totally be cheering on all my NaNoWriMo friends. So I’m dusting off my cowboy boots, donning my hat, and uncovering my long buried y'all drawl. Or, er, um. Okay, maybe I’m really just packing, but still. I’m SO. Excited.

Except the part where I have to leave behind people I love. That is not excitement. There will be many tears on moving day. (And hugs to all of you!)Remember how I told you all to do something big? Well. Yeah. This is kind of big, I think. Now it’s your turn, because after this, I’m going to need a long, long nap.

Now tell me. What new and exciting thing are you going to try this month? 

Fear of the Unknown

I think it’s safe to say we all have fears. Lots of them. (Not that some of us would admit to them, but they exist.) But have you ever made a major life decision based on fear? Or maybe you went with courage instead?

Seriously. Life is scary. Success is scary. Failure is scary. Commitment is scary.

Some people fear staying in one place long enough to matter, while others fear leaving that place in order to spread their wings, make more of themselves or their lives.

Playing sports, or letting our kids play them = scary. Skydiving, scuba, traveling to new countries, learning to drive, riding on a motorcycle, skiing, anything you’ve never done before. Starting a new project, changing careers, anything that signals the beginning of a new phase of life can be REALLY FREAKING SCARY.

Because once we do those things, there will be some kind of result. Good or bad. And sometimes, when we do something big, the results can be ridiculously terrifying.

But if we don’t take those chances, do those things, how boring would our lives be? And more importantly, how would we ever discover the most amazing parts of life?

Sometimes we all have to take the scary road.

Submit that novel. Query that agent. Apply for that job. Move to a new city. Ask out that guy/girl you like. Plan that party. Go somewhere foreign.

DO SOMETHING BIG.

This weekend, I challenge you go do something you’ve been putting off because of fear. And when you do, I want to hear about it.

Well, what are you waiting for?

Go! Go now!

Good luck.

Every So Often

We all have dreams. But every so often, we have to take a minute to stop and wonder if those dreams are meant for us, or us for them, or whatever.

Every so often, our dreams take over our lives, and then we wonder what we were thinking when we started dreaming like that anyway.

Every so often, we decide to take a break, turn a corner, or do something differently than we planned.

And every so often, thinking outside the box helps us make more progress than anything else we’ve tried, renewing our sense of creativity, our sense of adventure, our ability to dream big.

Every so often, we are given a lesson in succeeding, rather than one in failing.

Every so often, we win.

And then it all becomes worth it.

When’s the last time you won?

Made By Sheer Determination

Did I ever tell you my daughter Sneezy plays soccer? I know we’ve discussed basketball and softball, but all truth be told, soccer is her game. It’s the sport that makes her smile even as she tapes her blisters, dresses turf burn, and ices deep purple bruises.

This year she’s heading into high school as a sophomore (our HS here starts with sophomores, and freshmen attend the junior high—but don’t get me started on that) and decided she wanted to try out for the JV/ varsity soccer team.

At the beginning of June, Sneezy had a large tumor (non cancerous, yay!) removed from her neck. The surgery resulted in tendon and nerve damage in her neck and face that has left portions of those areas either in pain or completely numb. As a result, Sneezy has a tough time fully rotating her shoulder (a bad deal for a keeper/goalie), and occasionally when she runs, the insides of her neck throb like they’re going to "fall out".

Within a week of her surgery, summer conditioning started. Five days a week from 8-10:00 am, players proved their dedication by showing up and working their butts off in preparation for the soccer season. Sneezy missed almost a month, and worried about falling behind. Still, she determined she had to try.

So as soon as she could, Sneezy got up early every summer morning and went to conditioning, worked extra hard, then came home and spent the rest of the day with Ice packs taped to her shoulder and neck until she stopped needing the ice, and stopped needing the painkillers, and started to catch up.

Last week was try out week, which meant two hours in the mornings and two in the afternoons, of very seriously difficult work. At the end of each day, the coaches made cuts, and only those who made it through were invited back the next day.

Monday: Sneezy didn’t get cut. But one of her best friends (who is a phenomenal player) did.

Tuesday: Sneezy didn’t get cut. But another of her best friends did.

Wednesday: Most of Sneezy’s friends got cut. But Sneezy was invited back.

Thursday: Sneezy made the team and was given not just one, but two playing positions, ensuring her playing time as both JV and Varsity.

Friday: To celebrate, the team ran five miles around the city before starting their regular workout routine. But Sneezy got both her keeper jersey, and her forward one.

Sneezy still has pain and numbness. And she’s so sad her best friends got cut. But she has dedicated herself to working hard, moving up, doing her best to be the best soccer player she can be, despite any obstacles or challenges that come her way.

We’d all do well to learn a lesson from my fifteen-year-old Sneezy. I certainly have.

**All you Utahns, don't forget to stop by the big event and say hi!

The Art of Juggling

My daughter Sneezy is into sports. Like, way. Into. Them. Basketball, soccer, softball, track—she’ll try it all. And do it all. And be good at it.

Awesome, right? Except not always. We recently had to have a talk about how impossible it is for one person (me or her or anyone else) to be in two places at once. Because she has finally reached the point where that has become an issue. Thing is, it’s hard for anyone to dedicate themselves to two different teams. Even if the sports compliment each other in every physical way except practice times.

At some point, we all have to make hard choices like this. Where best to dedicate ourselves, to what team we give our all, and which pursuit will bring us the most happiness, or if not happiness, at least the best opportunity for success.

And it’s hard, you know? It really is hard to make that decision. Sneezy will probably have to choose between soccer and softball. One she truly loves, and the other is more popular among her best friends and would mean taking a fun out-of-town trip in the spring. Which one to choose?

I find myself at a similar crossroads. There’s this thing I love, writing, and it requires probably more than I’ve been able to give in the past, because I’ve been so busy taking care of a team I love (not my family—they’re always top priority). There was a point in time when I believed I could do both things, equally divide my time between them. But I have now reached a crossroads. I can still be a part of the team, just not the captain. Instead, I need to allow someone else a turn. Doing so will give me an opportunity to focus on my love, finish some projects I’ve started, and move forward in my career.

It’s completely possible to be equally good at two things. But in order to be the best at anything, most of us have to dedicate ourselves to just one at a time.

Like I told Sneezy, it’s not about being selfish. It’s about progressing to the next level.  About juggling the things in our lives to the best possible outcome. What do you think?

Being Braver

Recently I realized that hanging out with other writers—all in different stages of the quest for publication—makes me feel braver than I really am. Or than I think I am. Or something.

Associating with like-minded people builds my strength and confidence, before I even realize I need it.

It’s kind of like when you and your spouse—or best friend or a family member or whatever—eat dinner at a new and exciting restaurant. Or when you decide to visit a new vacation destination. Or when you attempt to learn a new skill. Having the support of someone else who is sharing a similar experience gives you a boost in confidence, or courage, or…something. Anyway, you find yourself doing things you never would have believed yourself capable, or brave enough to do.

Have you found this to be true in life? What new brave things have you tried lately? Discuss.

I Can Do Hard Things

This week I did something I’ve been putting off for at least a month, probably more. I started submitting again. Not that I ever stopped, but after another round of revisions, it almost feels like a whole new adventure.

Once again, I needed a bunch of people to tell me I could do it. Elana, Heather, Rachelle, Keith, Danyelle—they all rallied around me to tell me that yes, I can do it. And they’re right. I can.

When I really think about it, sending submissions—and consequently getting rejections—isn’t any harder than ninety percent of the other things I do in life. It’s not harder than that thing I did last week, or last summer, or two years ago or four.

I’ve lived through a lot of stuff I’ll never talk about here. But I’m not unique in that. We’re all human. We all have to deal with difficult things. And for the most part, we do. Something comes at us and we take it, deal with it and react in our own distinct way. Hopefully, we’re then able to grow and learn and become better people. Or different people. Whatever.

The point is, as stupid as it sounds, whenever I get ready to send more submissions, I have to psych myself up. I remind myself that this process is really only as hard as I allow it to be. Some submissions are harder than others because I’ve pinned more hope on them. But in the end, even if I only ever get rejections on this book, I am still a writer. I’ll write other books. I’ll keep submitting, and eventually, I’ll find someone who loves my stuff enough to represent it, and then someone else who wants to publish it. I believe in myself enough to know that.

I would be lying if I said rejection isn’t hard to take. It is. Very, very hard. But as my good friends remind me over and over again, I can do hard things.

Then I look around, see my family and friends and know they’ll still be here even after a thousand rejections. And I remember all the harder, more life-altering things I’ve lived through, and I think, meh. Agent / publisher rejections aren’t as bad as I like to pretend.

Then I click send, and laugh when I get my first rejection an hour later—even though it’s eight o’clock on a Saturday night.

I do not curl up and die. My life isn’t forever ruined or destroyed, or even altered in the least. One down, a hundred more to go. No worries. You know why? I can handle it. I can do hard things. And so can you.