Something Different

I've promised everyone an interview with Liz Kales, and it's coming. It should be up next week. I met with Liz, author of Destiny's Weave, yesterday, in person. She is the epitamy of grace, determination, strength, and charm, so stay tuned. In the meantime, I just had to blog about my experience at dinner earlier this evening.

My husband and I went to Earls Restaurant, a Canadian chain that serves consistently good food. I think their target consumer is 30 somethings, but they get families, seniors, and a mixed bag of people because of the quality of what they serve. They're a couple of steps up from family dining, and probably only one step down from fine dining. Yeah, whatever, restaurant critics...that's how I see it.

Anyway, when you visit Earls you are always certain of two things. The food will be great and the wait staff will be female, and gorgeous, and their boobs will be falling out of their tops (or at least be threatening to). Earls isn't the only Canadian restaurant that has this claim to fame. We have Hooters (at least they have the gumption to admit this is what their claim to fame is), Cactus Club, Joey's, and a few others. Walk into any of these establishments and you'll have models serving you. Until tonight, it's been no big deal for me. There's been a silent wishing on my part that the owners might mix things up, and my assumption has always been that males weren't applying for waiting jobs.

And then tonight, at Earls, Chad arrived at my table. Standing 6 feet, tattooed to the nth degree, and built like a line backer, he said hello and asked for our drink order. My brain crashed. This was not the usual order of things. I gaped. My husband glowered. Chad smiled patiently as my synapses kicked back into gear and I ordered a drink. He left, and I, in my glee at not having to have cleavage shoved in my face during another dinner out, expressed my surprise to my husband. He in turn yowled about wanting to be put in another section.

When Chad returned to our table, I asked him how he managed to become employed by an establishment that up until now, only hired from the top 10% of female beauty. I turns out Chad has an amazing amount of restaurant experience, has worked all over the place, and he knew someone at Earls who was finally willing to give him a break and let him wait, which is what he's always wanted to do, but never been allowed to do. (I'm thinkin a few of the beauties were too busy partying late at night, didn't bother showing up for their shifts, and management finally went for reliable).

The reason Chad hasn't been giving a waiting job? Apparently male business customers, and male customers in general, are quite vocal about wanting to be served by sexy female waitresses. That's right girls. Your dinner views are being controlled by the squeaky wheels of male gender.

Now maybe some of you are going to say "Good on it for females!" They make good money waitressing, and leave them their territory. Me, I'm not quite so inclined. I'm not that comfortable with the reverse discrimination going on, and I'm not that comfortable learning that the reason for it is again being controlled by men. But....the only reason that this is happening that I can see, is that men are more vocal. So...when I meet up with one of my best friends for our friday lunch at a restaurant where we always yak about the amount of hours the waitresses must put in to getting ready for work, and the fact that even though we've been lunching there for over two years none of them look familiar, I'm going to be very naughty. I'm going to very politely state that I would like to be served my a male. Fair is fair. Us women put a lot of money out to dining establishments, and we have our needs too. And the squeaky wheel gets the grease.

News....

Hello world,

It's been awhile. This is a pic of my dog Kita when she was a baby. If you look close you can see the mischieviousness in her eyes. She's still a baby, but a lot bigger now.

I've joined a writer's critique group, in the hopes that I'll learn even more about writing. . . and maybe get to the point where my manuscript gets more than a rejection from agents or partials. I'm not submitting anymore at the moment. I found a publisher who will take full manuscripts to read, so I've sent mine in, and am now doing the waiting game.

My apple trees are flourishing, leaving and blooming - they are happy in their new home. If you want to know what that's about, you have to dig into my archives of postings.

At the moment I am in human experiment mode. Trying out web remedies for teeny ailments that are creeping into my body. At the moment, I'm experimenting with toe fungus and Vicks Vapor Rub. It seems to be working. Read the ingredients before you ever rub it on your child's skin.

I'm twenty pages into book two, and am now attached to it. Don't know where it's going yet...how close is that to child rearing? This book is more of a challenge, not so much humour as the first, and there is a war of my mind wit to see where I might end up.

I've got a new interview coming up, and I'm really excited. I'm interviewing Liz Kales, author of Destiny's Weave. She's my neighbour, a very refined silver haired vixen, and I get to meet with her in person.

I've met some terrific people in the writing field, authors working toward publication and some who have been published. I swear some of them never sleep. They are too busy writing, promoting, giving of their time to other authors, blogging, networking, and doing a gazillion things to make it in today's world of book-selling. If nothing else, I am learning so much about the passion, dedication, commitment, emotional rollercoastering, hard work, and love that goes into creating a book. I'm hoping I can begin to show some of that in the interviews that I do. I'm starting to realize that authors don't sleep much, and when they do, they dream of writing, they dream of creating that book that will hold you captive, entertain you, make you laugh, cry, react, want to turn the page.

Cheers to all the writers I have met and that I am meeting. Thank you for letting me walk among you.

Urghhhhhhhhhh!!

Wanted to do some housecleaning on my blog...make it all pretty, but am frustrated with the limitations (both mine and bloggers) of what can be changed and shifted. I see some blogs that are so pretty and everything is properly in its place.
I can relate to closet cleaning. Help me Blogger! Design this like my closet where I can chuck, shift, move, destroy, etc. That would be much more fun.

A Writer's Reality 101: The Stories behind the Stories.

A warm welcome for Ms. Jocelyn Rish, my brave second victim in this interview for the ongoing series: A Writer’s Reality 101: The Stories behind the Stories. Yes, I have re-named it. It’s my blog and I’ll do what I want to.

Jocelyn, my dog Kita likes cats, and I like cats, and you apparently like cats too, so here you are. Luckily, here, is somewhere in cyberspace, so you won’t have to endure any of Kita’s incessant licking. That’s what happens when you smell like a cat, which I am not saying you do…anyway, on to the interview.

Lisa: Whatever made you enter into this life-sucking, soul-snatching, 1001 ways to find rejection occupation (oops, sorry, had another ‘no thanks’ response to a query last night. It’s obviously impacting my biases today) called writing?

Jocelyn: Even though it’s clichéd for a writer, it’s true: I was one of those kids. The one with my nose buried in a fascinating book causing me to ignore irrelevant things like eating, homework, or sleeping. Somewhere along the way, I decided I wanted to write stories that inspired that same type of passion and obsession. Unfortunately, fear kept me from doing anything about it until the day I saw an ad for the Institute of Children’s Literature that changed my life. I completed their course Writing for Children and Teenagers, and I was ready to get started.

Then I heard about National Novel Writing Month in 2006, and I completed my first novel, a YA horror, in an exhilarating month. For NaNo 2007 I wrote my rough draft for The Hunt, a YA thriller that is a quarterfinalist in this year’s ABNA. And in 2008 I tried my hand at writing a YA fantasy, but it is pretty much crap.

Lisa: For those not in the know, ABNA is short for Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award. Authors with unpublished or self-published novels can enter their works for a chance at a publishing contract. Congratulations on making it to the quarter finals. How do you feel about that?

Jocelyn: I’m not gonna lie – I cried a little. Nothing over the top, just a nice shimmer in the eyes that welled up until one glistening tear escaped and trailed down my face. But seriously, I entered last year and didn’t make it past the pitch stage, which was a crushing blow to my poor writerly ego. So this year I’ve gotten emotional each time I learned I was still in it. First the fist pump, then the crying, then the laughing and dancing with my dog as she comes to check out why ‘mommy’ is acting crazy. I’m really excited about it even as I dread what the PW review might say about The Hunt.

So see, I’m a prime example of why you shouldn’t lose hope. When I entered last year, I was sure my novel was in top-top shape. But after a light bulb moment about my character’s voice and several revisions, my novel is MUCH better this year. So as much as it hurt to not make it past the pitch last year, it was really a blessing in disguise, because in retrospect, I’d have been embarrassed if any strangers had read last year’s excerpt.

Lisa: I lose hope frequently, but luckily I’m a moody person, and my state changes every three minutes or so. You also do some script writing as well, don’t you?

Jocelyn: Because of NaNoWriMo, I found out about Script Frenzy, where the goal is to write a feature screenplay in a month. I’d never thought about trying that, but it seemed like fun, so my brother and I teamed up to write a horror movie about a local SC legend. We had a blast and found a new calling. Since then we’ve also written an action thriller and a ghost story.

I also write short stories and had my biggest success with a short I wrote called Saying Goodbye. I’d read about the true story of Oscar the death predicting cat and was inspired to write a story from the perspective of a woman in a nursing home coping as a cat predicts the death of her friends. The story ended up one of the 2008 South Carolina Fiction Project winners and was my first time being published – sooooooo exciting!

It was my brother’s idea to turn it into a screenplay. Once we’d rewritten it as a script, we entered it in a competition for a grant from the SC Film Commission and we won!! We were awarded the money to make our short film. Filming was a CRAZY but amazing experience. We are currently in post right now editing the film (which is a little like revising a manuscript again and again and again). If people want to find out more about the project, they can visit www.sayinggoodbyemovie.com.

Lisa: I looked at the site and was really intrigued. It sounds like a wonderful story. If people would like to read Saying Goodbye how can they do so? And the short film, once it’s complete, how can people view it?

Jocelyn: My short story can be found at http://www.postandcourier.com/news/2008/sep/21/fiction54338/. As for viewing the film, we’re still not sure about that. Because it’s only 20 minutes, it will never be theatrically released. However, we do plan to submit it to film festivals around the country, so some people might be able to see it that way. Then after a (hopefully very successful) festival run, we hope to make it available online. So the best way to keep updated on how to see the film is to keep tabs on our website or become a fan on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Saying-Goodbye/119785993310

Lisa: Having just read Saying Goodbye, it is an absolutely beautiful story. It moved me to tears.

Jocelyn: I'm so happy to hear you were moved by Saying Goodbye. The main character has a lot of my grandmother in her, and she had passed away in a home not long before I wrote the story, so I cried while I wrote it. I sometimes still get teary when I reread it, but then I worry I'm being all self-indulgent and stuff.

Lisa: Your Young Adult novel – The Hunt- what is it about?
Jocelyn: My one-line pitch for The Hunt is: After the body she discovers in the woods disappears, seventeen-year-old Breanna must prove it was not the product of her notorious overactive imagination, but rather the handiwork of a killer who plans to silence her.

Basically Brea is well-known for her "stories"- so no one believes she found a body in the woods. She decides the only way to save face and prove everyone wrong is to investigate the murder on her own. She discovers evidence pointing to a classmate, so she joins his team for the school's video scavenger hunt hoping to uncover the truth about him. There are a lot of funny moments throughout the scavenger hunt, but there is always the undercurrent of danger as she tries to unmask a killer.

Lisa: What’s the toughest thing you find about being a writer?

Jocelyn: The toughest thing for me is getting my butt in the chair. I’m a big time procrastinator - trimming my dog’s toenails, cleaning the crumbs out of the toaster, scrubbing the grout with a toothbrush – I’ll pretty much do anything to avoid sitting down and writing. And it’s all so ridiculous, because I love to write and I hate doing those other things. But, man, I have the hardest time making myself start a writing session. Maybe I should seek professional help about this issue… oh, hi Lisa! ;-)

Lisa: I'm in total agreement with you about the procrastination for writing so I won’t be much help – I still need to work at my own. Kita is howling at me to find out what kind of dog you have, so put her out of her pain, and me out of mine...what is yours?

Jocelyn: Freya is a pound puppy. She looks like a big cream-colored German Shepherd with blue eyes. My mom, dad, brother, and sister each have their own pound puppy, so for Christmas this past year I got everyone a doggie DNA kit. It was so much fun guessing the various breeds and seeing who was right. Freya’s primary breed turned out to be Siberian Husky and then she had two minor breeds – Chow and Miniature Poodle. Yes, my 95 pound dog is part mini-poodle! Freya sends Kita big, slurpy kisses.

Lisa: How are your family and friends with your writing? And how are you with them, in terms of talking about it?

Jocelyn: I quit my job to focus full time on my writing, so my friends and family all know how important writing is to me. They are all extremely supportive, even if it does make my dad super nervous that I have no steady income. I bounce ideas for new projects off of them, and several of them are beta readers.

Lisa: Any tips, comments for people thinking of entering the world of fiction writing?

Jocelyn: My advice is to run far, far away! No, not really, but you have to really love writing to pursue it. The odds of it making you rich or famous are miniscule, and the pursuit of publication is more likely to leave you frustrated and depressed, so you have to be passionate about it. But if you do decide to do enter the writing world, make sure you study the craft: take classes, read books about it, attend conferences, join a critique group. It's important

Lisa: Thanks so much for doing this interview with me Jocelyn.

Jocelyn: Thank you so much for interviewing me! It has been so much fun thinking about my writing in a different way.

There's a new interview coming with a new author. Git your pants out of their twist, and make yourself presentable.

I'm interviewing authors who are 'yet to be discovered,' getting into the grit and the everyday reality of those of us who are working our way toward publication.
Welcome to an undiscovered world. If you like Indie films, you'll be blown away by the world of Indie Publishing.

Thinkin' About Going Kindle...It'd be Better Than Going Crazy.

As I continue to query agents, I've been thinking about uploading and selling No One in Particular in Kindle form. It might be a great way to begin building an audience. In the meantime I'm poking at potential covers for the book.

In Memory of Curtis - April 13, 1962 to December 19, 1997

During the last month, I’ve been feeling out of sorts, struggling against a sense of loneliness that seemed to arise out of nowhere. Being the sort of person I am, I examined my life, analyzed it, and worked on connecting more with those people who are important to me. And in that connection, my loneliness continued – nothing could appease it, end it, lay it to rest. This feeling of wanting, needing something different, yet not knowing what, stayed with me - a continual gnawing sense of wrongness and emptiness that nothing, no one, has been able to take away.

This past weekend, driven by a compulsion I had (at the time) no insight into, I bought three trees to plant in my backyard. There was no question of whether they fit in my budget (they didn’t), no question as to whether I could actually pick holes in the clay and rocks big enough for them, no question of anything other than this need to plant trees in my backyard. Trees that would survive. Trees that would thrive. Trees that would grow, bloom, drop leaves, and provide some sort of sustenance.

Yesterday in a fit of physicality my body hasn’t seen in ages, I dug, picked, scooped, hauled dirt, and planted. Three apple trees. Three glorious, starting to bloom, beautiful apple trees that will survive and thrive. I will make sure they do. I am their keeper.

And yesterday, for the first time in a month, I didn’t feel as lonely.

And today, I understood why.

When I was 6 or 7, I can’t remember my age for sure, my grandfather painted two pictures. One for me, one for my brother. We received them as Christmas presents. My painting was of a kitten. My brother’s picture was of him, climbing a tree, with a dog standing up against the trunk, barking at him. My grandfather had captured the essence of my brother in that painting, and to this day, I can see it clearly in my mind.

Curtis was all about adventure, laughter, charm, and the good things in life. Curtis was my best friend. And when he died thirteen years ago there was a hole left in my life. And even though my life has carried on, changed and shifted, there isn’t anything that fills the place he left, except at certain times a profound sense of loneliness that no one and nothing can take away. Other than trees.

The year he died, I planted a willow in the yard of the house where I was living. I no longer live there, but I do have to go there, due to personal circumstances, and every time I see that Willow and how big it has grown, I smile a bit, and in my mind I see the painting of Curtis climbing his tree. And it is there that he lives on.

I have a big huge hole in my life. Especially today, on his birthday, when the world is whizzing by in all its busy-ness, and I hold back, watching. Missing someone terribly thirteen years after they are gone. If Curtis was here, he’d bump me upside the head and tell me to buck up. But he’s not here, so I sit back quietly, dig my holes to show the world what I’m missing, and then I fill them with trees.

Happy Birthday Curtis. I miss you.