So come play with me! My newest Twitter column is called “Everything You Need to Know About the Retweet.”

Hopefully my blog-doggie won’t mind hanging out for a bit. And hopefully I’ll pick the leash back up next week. (See what I did there? Gif metaphors FTW!)

<3

The problem with speed-reading, as I understand it, is that it’s actually more like speed-skimming. People who read very quickly seem to miss things. They can tell you what the book is about, but they might not be able to tell you how the color of the secondary character’s dress affected them emotionally. They might not even be able to tell you the color of the dress. Because with speed reading, you don’t stop. You don’t pause to think. (Or am I wrong? Any speed readers out there who know differently?)

I’ve talked a little before about writing as a physical thing rather than a passive one. I feel the same way about reading. I like this post by Natalia about marking in books as you read – like a love letter to the work. I like the idea of pausing to respond, of underlining things that seem significant, of stopping to let the impact of a powerful scene sink in before your turn the page. I want to be an active participant.

So maybe this is why I’ve resisted jumping on the “reading challenge” bandwagon. For those of you who don’t know, a reading challenge is exactly what it sounds like. People will set a goal, often 50 books a year, and try to meet it, like a New Year’s resolution. There’s a spot for this in Goodreads, too, where you can keep track of which books you read.

Reading challenges can be wonderful. The main benefit, of course, is a renewed vigor. A refreshed desire to read much and often. It’s a way to rekindle the passion, which I certainly appreciate. It’s all too easy to let a couple weeks go by in between books.

Yet… I’m very anal retentive. If I’m going to do a reading challenge, I’m going to do it right. I’ll count my books, make sure I’m on schedule, and really strive to meet whatever goal I set for myself. And that’s where the problem comes in.

Do reading challenges promote quantity over quality? If I know I have to read fifty books a year, won’t I choose shorter books? I mean, if I pick up Elizabeth Kostova’s 700-page beast The Historian instead of a nice easy paperback, I’m setting myself back at least a week. So then – assuming I don’t have unlimited time to dedicate to reading, which would be awesome – my options become: should I read faster, or should I choose shorter and/or easier books?

Isn’t challenging myself as a reader more important than challenging my reading?

To me, it is. Not to mention that going through Goodreads limits what I can count as “a book.” What about the 7-8 unpublished manuscripts I read last year? They don’t count. What about the literary magazines I try to familiarize myself with? They don’t count. What about all of the stray poems I read online? They don’t count either. But shouldn’t they?

In short, I like the idea behind reading challenges – reinvigorating the love, so to speak – but I don’t like what it does to my choice of materials.

My solution so far has been to maintain reading goals that involve ideas rather than numbers. I aim to always have one novel and one book of poetry going . I’ve noticed that, for me, it’s the time between books that ends up slipping away, so I also have the goal of starting a new book the same day I finish an old one. That way I have to get it out and put a bookmark in it so I don’t get sidetracked. I also aim to read thoughtfully. I try to read widely – a nice blend of heavy, struggle-to-understand literary fiction and fun, edge-of-my-seat commercial fiction. And everything in between.

Those are my goals, and I suppose the drawback to them is that I’m the only one accountable for them, since it’s not a number I can post on Goodreads or my blog. Or maybe that, too, is a good thing. What do you think?

Have you ever participated in reading challenges? Did it work for you? And if you’ve never tried them, what’s holding you back?

It feels weird to continue on in such horrible news. First Boston and now West, which is a small Texas town about an hour and a half south of where I live. Everyone I know is sad right now, myself included. These are days to go dark, spend time with loved ones, and reflect. But of course I have no control over the timing of tragedy, so I hope you’ll understand where my heart is when I share my news and publications with you.

[I’m no expert, but I imagine that unless you’re a first responder or a trained disaster relief worker, staying away (physically) is probably more helpful than driving down to West right now. Last I heard they have serious traffic problems with all of the emergency vehicles. The best information that I’ve gathered, if you’re in the area and wanting to help: you can donate blood at any of these locations or donate funds to The Salvation Army. If you're around Denton, you can also drop off water and goods at UNT.]

I have a guest blog up today at Deep South Magazine. It’s called “The Poetry of Place,” and it’s all about what we often call “landscape poems.” I talk about why poets are drawn to them, what makes them good or weak, and a few tips on how to get inspired to try one of your own. I hope you’ll join me there.

They’ve also published the second of my poems accepted in Southern Voice. “Rust Never Sleeps” is a small poem from my manuscript The Alcoholic’s Daughter, a collection about my dad that I hold close to my heart. Unlike “Nights in Texas,” this one isn’t free verse. It’s actually a single stanza of a form called the ottava rima. The ottava rima is traditionally used for long, epic poems, and using a single stanza is an unusual choice on my part. I hope that you’ll go read it, and that perhaps you’ll agree it served this poem well.

Maybe these Texas poems and post are not so irrelevant, today. Personal and public are all tied up in knots. My heart goes out to West. I think of how every time we drove through we’d eat kolaches at the Czech Stop, where the culture of the area was celebrated through food (is there any other way?). Like so many tiny Texas towns settled by Czech and German farmers, West embraced its heritage. My heritage. I’m Czech and German and I come from Texas farming stock – Neugebauer (the name I got from my dad; yesterday would have been his 58th birthday… knots, see?) actually means “new farmer” in German – and these are my people. These are my people and they’re hurting.

I wish I could do more.

Love and peace,

Annie

So if you’ll forgive me, I’d like to take a moment to introduce them and share their good news – and plug their books a little. Just a heads up: this post looks a lot longer than it is because of the bios I’ve pasted in, but feel free to skip over those if you’re in a hurry. Just click on those book links!

Kelsey Macke

About: Kelsey Macke (@KelsNotChels) has been creative for as long as she can remember. From an early age she was on stage singing, penning poetry, and writing notebooks full of songs. When the idea for her debut novel, Damsel Distressed, popped into her head, she was undeterred by the fact that she had no idea how to actually write a novel. Her bff, the internet, was her guide, and after much trial, error, and candy, she finished it, and set out to get it published… a process far more difficult than, the internet (now her mortal enemy), had led her to believe. She’s represented by Jessica Sinsheimer of the Sarah Jane Freymann Literary Agency.

How I know her + the news: I met Kelsey through my local critique group, and (thanks in large part to her outgoingness, since it takes me months to work up the nerve to ask someone to hang out) we quickly became friends and CPs outside of group. Kelsey announced some pretty spectacular news on Wednesday; she’s just signed a contract with Spencer Hill Contemporary for her YA novel Damsel Distressed. And not only that, but the deal is special. It involves not just a book, but a companion album by Kelsey and her husband Daron (Wedding Day Rain). This is cutting edge stuff, guys!

This is the manuscript that I swapped with Kels (she read Once the Darkness Comes and I read this one), so I can personally vouch for it. It’s an emotional, funny, beautiful story told by a character whose voice doesn’t often get heard. If you loved Jandy Nelson’s The Sky is Everywhere, you’ll love Damsel Distressed. If you’d like to learn more about Kelsey’s book, which comes out in October 2014, you can read about it here (be sure to watch her super cute announcement video) or even add it to Goodreads.

Beth Honeycutt

About: A graduate of the University of North Texas, majoring in both English and History, Beth Honeycutt has enjoyed the magic of words for most of her adult life. Beth has written poems that have been included in several editions of the Texas Poetry Calendar through Dos Gatos Press, as well as the Wichita Falls Literature and Arts Review, Encore, several editions of A Book of the Year by the Poetry Society of Texas, The April Perennial, Illya’s Honey, Collections I, Collections II, Collections III, and BorderSenses. Her poetry has won recognition in local contests with the City of Denton, Denton Writes, and North Central Texas Community College. Beyond her enjoyment of wordsmithing through poetry and as a family law paralegal, she is happily married with two fantastic adult children. Beth applies her awareness not only to her intuitive inner voice when writing poetry, but also in practicing alternative therapies of energy medicine with life coaching through her business, The Calming Center.

How I know her + the news: Beth and I meet weekly in a small private group for poetry critique. Over the years, I’ve read more of Beth’s poems than I can count, and they’re a delight every time. So of course I was thrilled to hear that she’s recently had a chapbook manuscript Finding Direction accepted for publication at Finishing Line Press.

This collection explores the boundaries between the physical and metaphysical – playing on the edge of two worlds. I think her poetry is beautiful and would be meaningful to anyone, but if you’re a poetry and fantasy fan, you absolutely shouldn’t miss it! Finding Direction will be out this June, and you can preorder a copy here.

Regina Richards

About: Regina Richards spent a good part of her childhood with her nose in a book. At least when she wasn’t dodging her brothers’ attempts to land darts in her skull or fleeing her sister’s efforts to turn her into a girlie-girl. Growing up in a large family, though sometimes dangerous, was also fun. And those dart-wielding brothers and curling iron armed sister turned out to be surprisingly nice adults. Today Regina lives in Texas with her husband, three children, and two jolly beagles. She is a National Excellence in Romance Fiction Awards finalist, a Hot Prospects winner, an Enchanted Words finalist, a Happily Ever After winner, and a Brenda Novak Mentorship Contest finalist.

How I know her + the news: I met Regina at my local critique group as well. When the two of us decided to swap betas, I was pretty freaking excited. Not only does she give phenomenal feedback, but reading her novel Blood Marriage, a gothic vampire romance, was one of those “I can’t believe this counts as part of my job” moments. It felt like a vacation – fun, atmospheric, and deeply immersive. And totally professional; Regina’s craft is first class!

Blood Marriage is available on Amazon for quite a steal. It’s getting great reviews, and since I already knew it was a gem, I wasn’t at all surprised to hear that Regina is a finalist in the Best First Book category of the National Excellence in Romance Fiction Awards. Recognition well deserved!

Alex Langley

About: Alex Langley (@RocketLlama) can control gravity, swim at over eight-hundred miles per second, and has a dangerous, borderline nuclear passion for writing. He’s the author of The Geek Handbook and its upcoming follow-up, Geek Lust, both by Krause Publications. He also writes tons of fiction, and about movies, television, and anything that catches his fancy for Fanhattan.com, retro and modern gaming for Arcadesushi.com, and news, interviews, & comics for rocketllama.com. He has over 20,000 followers on twitter, edits content for geek girl/web celebrity @actionchick Katrina Hill at actionflickchick.com, and is the head editor of Nerdspan.com’s gaming section as well as being co-creator of the webseries Geeks and Gamers Anonymous. Thousands follow his work online, and he has been a speaker on panels at conventions, including Wonder-Con, and San Diego Comic-Con International. His published works also include academic papers.

How I know him + the news: Alex is my long-time book bro. We’ve been swapping novel manuscripts for several years now, after meeting at critique group. He’s also shopping around a graphic novel project that I just love. So you can maybe imagine how pumped I was to hear that he’d been asked to write a nonfiction book for Krause Publications. The Geek Handbook was born, and though I didn’t beta it, I’ve read it, and I can promise you it’s flipping hilarious – whether you’re a geek or not.

But the good news doesn’t stop there. The Geek Handbook has been so successful that’s it’s gone into a fourth print run! (Holy cannoli!) And on top of that, Alex recently signed a second book deal for a follow-up called Geek Lust. Hells yes! You can buy The Geek Handbook on Amazon as well as preorder Geek Lust.

Jan Spence

About: After a long career in various aspects of education, Jan Spence is happily retired and enjoying more time to write, teach yoga, and soak up the vibrations of cats purring on her lap. Her husband of 40+ years is an avid canoe and backwoods enthusiast, and she is an avid yogi and writer. A perfect match! She considers herself blessed to be able to follow her passion to travel the world and take in new experiences. When not at home in Denton, Texas, she also loves spending time with her grown son and daughter and their families, especially her lovely granddaughter. Jan has work appearing or forthcoming in A Book of the Year 2009, A Book of the Year 2011, Versifico 2008, Merging Visions: a collaborative exhibit of art and poetry, Red River Review, Collections I, The Senior Voice, and the Texas Poetry Calendar.

How I know her + the news: Jan, too, is a weekly part of my life; she’s part of the poetry crit group I mentioned above. Jan’s poetry chapbook, Navigating the Old Road, was published by Finishing Line Press last year. I’ve critiqued many of the poems in it as well as had the opportunity to sit down and read the finished chapbook cover to cover. It’s beautiful.

Navigating the Old Road is a collection about aging, but that doesn’t have to be a chief concern in your life in order to appreciate this book. Jan writes with wit, wisdom, and that emotional honesty thing I’m always yapping about. It’s really a touching read. You can buy it on Amazon or through Finishing Line.

~*~

Okay, I’ve finished plugging for today. Dang, I feel privileged just to know so many awesome writers, much less be CPs with them. What an honor.

Congratulations to all five of you for your recent successes, and here’s to many more to come!

You may or may not have noticed that I changed the tagline of my website. It used to be The madness. The heartbreak. The writing. I decided it was time to take it from writer/blog focused to writing/works focused. I tried to find something that encompassed and represented the majority of my various genres and projects. You can see the new one in the header at the top of the site, under my name. I hope you like it!

I recently had a free verse poem, “Nights in Texas,” published in Deep South Magazine. It’s since been shared over 100 times! That makes me happy. You can read it for free here. You can also expect a second poem, “Rust Never Sleeps,” to come out in the same place later this month – plus a guest blog by yours truly. If you’re not familiar with Deep South, you should check them out. They describe themselves as a combination of Oxford American and Southern Living. Swoon.

Speaking of poetry, today marks the beginning of National Poetry Month. My local poetry organization, the Denton Poets’ Assembly, is participating in our sixth annual Merging Visions Exhibit. This is a really cool project where we collaborate with the Visual Arts Society of Texas to pair poems with artwork. All work is done by members of the two organizations. The pairings are hung in our local libraries, so if you’re near Denton, I invite you check it out. The exhibit is open during library hours and free to view. (More details at the link above.) I have two poems in this year’s exhibit, one of which is the poem I linked to from Deep South. The other is a short free verse poem.

And keeping with the poetry theme, I just got more good news. One of my horror poems, “Shades of Blue,” has been accepted for publication in issue three of a new online literary journal called Hello Horror. I really dig their vibe and was super impressed with their first issue, so I’m pretty excited about that! So look for that poem to come out this June. (As a side note, you can see an updated list of all of my available works plus upcoming publications on this page.)

What else? Well, currently some more revisions on my second novel, Scarcliff, are keeping me busy. I realized that I never sent that manuscript out very much (Hardly at all, actually. What’s wrong with me?), so I plan on polishing it up and pitching it at this year’s DFWcon in May. I’m also super way behind on poetry and short story submissions, so that should keep me juggling for a bit. And, you know… life. Spring has sprung here, so I’m busy cleaning house, filing taxes (ugh), frolicking with kittens, and playing outside with Hub-a-dub. I may not be good at keeping up with poetry subs, but I’m excellent at frolicking.

What’s going on with all of you?

But there are other qualities that are equally valuable. Of course, this is all subjective, but (in no specific order, really) I’m going to talk about the top five artistic qualities I wish were more appreciated.

1. Emotional Honesty

I first noticed this in poetry. I began bringing it up a lot in my poetry critique group, as well as to myself while judging various poetry contests. Sometimes the most basic, quiet poem can touch you all the way to your bones, and it feels like you can see into the poet’s soul. Other times you can appreciate the technique and skill in a poem yet feel little on an emotional level – or worse, feel as if you’re being manipulated somehow. There are shades of gray here, but in my experience emotional honesty almost always trumps showboating.

Once I gave this concept a name in my own mind, I started recognizing it everywhere. Flash fiction, short stories, novels. Indeed, I can see it (or see it missing) in movies, sculptures, and even stand-up comedy. And I think, on a most basic level, it’s this emotional honesty that draws us to our very favorite art and artists.

2. Humor

Now there are plenty of artists who appreciate humor. Many of them call themselves comedians, humorists, or satirists. And strangely, for putting this rather rare and valuable quality at the forefront of their work, the artists or art pieces are often deemed lesser than more “serious” works. Why?

No, really. Why?

I think there’s a huge difference between silly and funny. Silly can be great too, but I’m talking about funny. Really, truly, deep-in-your-gut funny is hard to come by, and I wish people would demean that less and appreciate it more as an artistic quality.

3. Simplicity

I love a rich, complex novel. But I also love an elegantly simple poem. And most of all? A deceptively simple premise. And while I have no desire to undermine the work and effort that goes into artistic complexity (did you see my rave about House of Leaves?), I also would love to see well-done simplicity get more praise these days.

Using House of Leaves as the example, I believe that many of the most unique and creative ideas are stunning in their simplicity. An overworked, forced premise might get the job done, but a pared-down premise with a fresh take is so much more appealing.

I like pomp and circumstance as much as the next girl, but I think simplicity is often erroneously thought of as stupidity. In all forms of art, I believe, there is great beauty to be had in the bare bones.

4. Atmosphere

My roots are showing. In gothic fiction, the atmosphere is so rich, so real, so inescapably important that it becomes its own character. That’s why you’ll see so many gothic novels with a place name as the title (Wuthering Heights, The Castle of Otranto, Northanger Abbey). So maybe my love all gothic art has made me especially keen on artists who can weave an unforgettable atmosphere.

Either way, it’s present in many different genres and types of art, and I think it’s one of the first things we sense but one of the last things we notice. And that’s a shame, really, because getting totally sucked into a play or book or painting’s atmosphere to the point that we forget where we are… well, it’s magical. And hard to do, as an artist. Which is why I think it’s underappreciated.

5. Self-Editing

At first, this might seem like a switch. The first four are qualities of the art itself, while this one seems like a quality of the artist, rather than the art. And I suppose, technically, it is. But the result is really what I’m talking about, rather than the skill. I’m going to use the art of fashion design as my example.

Who watches Project Runway? And how many times have we heard the judges tell the designers that they wish they’d edited the styling before sending their look down the runway? Countless. Even if the garment they made is exquisite, cheap accessories – or simply too many accessories – can ruin it. I believe that applies to all art forms.

Part of being an artist is knowing when to stop. Knowing how to self-evaluate what you produce. Deciding which work to put out for public consumption and which to keep to yourself is just as important as creating masterpieces to begin with. A brilliant book is dulled by a bunch of crappy follow-ups, just as a brilliant dress is dulled by a tacky plastic necklace.

I guess what I’m saying is that what’s underappreciated here is the lack of crap. Good artists know when not to show us their work, and sometimes we take that for granted.

~*~

So there you go, five artistic qualities that I think are way underrated. Do you agree? What qualities would you like to add to the list?

My copy of House of Leaves.

This isn’t, per say, a book review. I don’t know this author personally, nor am I published by Random House (I wish). No one sent me this book; I paid for my own copy – at a whopping 30 bucks, too (full color, huge book: totally worth it). I’m not opening up to submissions for book reviews on my blog, either. I quite simply loved this book so much I had to share its existence with you – just in case you might love it too. That and I’m dying to talk about it.

Okay, so, the basics. As much as it pains me to say, I really don’t think this book is for everyone. I would categorize House of Leaves as the epitome of “literary horror.” If you love both of those things, it’s worth checking out. If you don’t like being scared – like well and truly disturbed in an under-the-skin psychological way – you probably won’t like it. And if you don’t like making your mind work double – maybe you prefer fun commercial reads, etc. – you definitely won’t like it. Since I like little in this world better than getting both my ticker and my thinker racing, you can see why House of Leaves is so up my alley.

And because I’m willing to bet many of you are already underestimating how truly intellectual of a read this novel is, I’m going to reiterate. I’m certain I could spend a college lit class analyzing House of Leaves the entire semester and still not understand every nuance. And if I ever hear of such a college course offered in my area, I’m auditing it for sure. This Spin blurb sums it up pretty well: “Stunning… What could have been a perfectly entertaining bit of literary horror is instead an assault on the nature of story.”

That’s the root of it, right there. An assault on the nature of the story. House of Leaves is an experimental novel. (Notice “a novel” on the cover; remember the “assertion” reason from this post?) I’m going to try to break down the basics without giving anything away.

There are three main layers of story. At the center is the scary one. Pulitzer Prize-winning filmmaker Will Navidson, his partner Karen, and their two children move into a house with a startling oddity: their new house is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. (That, dear writers, is what you call a high concept premise!) To capture this phenomenon, Navy sets up a bunch of cameras in the house. The story unfolds as a documentary; only what Navy catches on tape and still can be told to the reader.

The second layer of the story is an old man named Zampanò who is studying and retelling this supposedly famous documentary. But not just that; he’s writing a book on it. A whole, huge book called House of Leaves. And he gets obsessed. He tracks down relevant references and allusions and footnotes the central text. He corrals criticism of the film. He offers his own analyses. He basically turns it into his life’s work. His notes are almost pompously scholarly, but wonderfully thoughtful.

The third layer of the story is who I would call our narrator, a marginalized youth named Johnny Truant. Johnny finds Zampanò’s unbound work when the old man dies… and takes up his task. His wry, jaded voice is a wonderful counterbalance to the pretention of Zampanò.

As you can imagine, with three different storylines and multiple narrators, the stories become entwined. Footnotes abound, and often get in the way of each other. Appendices and indexes send you bouncing back and forth like a pinball. Strangeness and madness grow. Uncertainty strengthens. Lines between narrators blur.

It’s fantastic.

And I think at the root of it, that’s the trick to enjoying House of Leaves as a reader: let it take you. Let the fear seep in. Let the footnotes send you back and forth until you’re lost. Let the wild experiments with format really get to you. Let yourself pause often to think about why something is done, and what effect it has on you. Reading this book was a physical experience for me. For example, at one point I was literally holding the book upside down, so turning the next page felt like going backwards. I was reading backwards; why would Danielewski do that? What does it mean?

It’s my new favorite book. Well, expect for my homeboy Poe, if you count his collected works as a book. He can stay. I guess I should say this is my favorite contemporary novel (written in the past 100 years, I think that criteria is, right?). Speaking of Poe, did you know that the female musician known as Poe is Mark Z. Danielewski’s sister? Her song “Haunted” is about this book. The quote in House of Leaves, “No one should brave the underworld alone,” is commonly misattributed to Edgar Allan Poe, but it’s actually lyrics by the artist Poe. Fun fact.

This is so much more than “just” a horror novel. It’s a love story. It’s a war cry against tropes. It’s heartbreaking and terrifying and shatteringly brilliant. It simultaneously makes me thrilled to be a writer and despair that I didn’t think of it – that I might never write anything this good. It’s grit shot through with magical realism and poetry.

With a book of this size and caliber, buying it and deciding to give it a try is definitely a commitment. As I said, it’s not for everyone, but I simply had to share how much I love it. If you’re intrigued, I encourage you to get a hold of your own, and I definitely think it’s worth the extra dough to find the remastered full-color edition.

Have you read House of Leaves? If so, what was your favorite part? (If it contains spoilers, don’t tell me in the comments!) And if not, does it intrigue you or send you running? What book have you read that blew you away like this?

It was a lovely time. The beach was beautiful. My condo was kind of a hole, which is why it was so cheap, but aside from the one lively roach I had to battle (barefoot!), that didn’t bother me. The view is what mattered, and I had a gorgeous one.

Top left: sunrise from my balcony. Bottom left: from the rocky pier. Right: working on some new freckles.

The first two days I was there, I spent most of my time staring at my computer screen and metaphorically pounding my head against the wall. I came to work on Meadow of Eden (previously The Seaman’s Daughter). I felt sure I would explode with inspiration, since that book takes place on the beach and I’d set up my computer to look out at the beach. I’d unplugged completely from the internet and I was alone. No distractions. So why weren’t any words coming?

Literally hours a day were spent getting maybe 2,000 words total. This is really bad for me. Usually when I’m drafting I have a word count minimum of 3k a day. On my last retreat, I wrote 5k every day. And this time I was getting 1k and not even loving it? I planned to be working on what I’m calling in my head “my life’s work.” Instead, I found myself drafting a very early reader called “The Sounds of Pooping.” O__O (Don’t ask.) Needless to say, something was off. More than my sanity, I mean.

Luckily, the hub-a-dub and I planned for him to come stay with me for two nights in the middle of my trip. By the time he got there I was so mad at myself I’d nearly given up. I felt guilty and awful for wasting this trip I felt so lucky to have. Then it occurred to me: I’d been comparing my retreat to my last retreat, in which I was revising an already existing novel. I was writing thousands of words a day because I knew what to write. It was not a retreat of inspiration, but productivity.

I was also comparing my retreat to my past vacations. I came up with the idea for Scarcliff on a ride from my hometown, and then The Echoing on a trip to Colorado. On these trips, I didn’t write anything. I just absorbed inspiration like a sponge and let ideas tumble around my head.

What I was trying to do with this retreat was both. I wanted the magical rush of ideas from old vacations, but I also wanted the dedicated productivity of word count from my last retreat. I suddenly felt sure that this was the problem. I couldn’t have both.

So I spent the next two days enjoying the beach with my husband – almost no writing at all. We went to an aquarium, a museum, a couple of restaurants. We had a blast, actually. It was an unexpectedly fun mini-vacation for both of us. When he left, I felt refreshed and less stressed.

Poetry started pouring out of me like blood. I couldn’t have stopped if I tried. I put together a new chapbook. I got two new short story ideas and started them, letting them drop when inspiration turned into work. I decided that, hey, I can work at home. Inspiration is what I really needed. New energy, the tank recharged by solar power. I woke up to see the sunrise every morning. I layed out during the warmest part of the day. I took walks on the beach every night.

I realized that I’d tried to keep my muse on a leash, like I often do at home. But she wanted to play. I wanted to play.

Instead of sitting at my computer and writing new words, I started storyboarding for Meadow of Eden. Yes, I have Scrivener for this, but it really isn’t the same. I wanted to walk around, gesture, get mumbly. I wanted to pick up my pages, run a thumb over the words, fucking roll in it.

My Meadow of Eden storyboard once “finished.” (Which isn’t finished at all; I’m missing about 10k words worth of plot.)

There’s a quote by Tom Gauld: “I love using the computer but I try to stay away from it till I’ve done most of the thinking for an idea, looked at it from all sides, because I feel that once the computer is involved things are on an inevitable path to being finished. Whereas in my sketchbook the possibilities are endless.” Yes. That’s what I had been feeling.

I didn’t use my computer much after that. Just notepads, pens, sticky notes, sand, sun, and gray matter.

Meadow of Eden isn’t ready to be drafted yet. I don’t want it to be on the “inevitable path to being finished.” It has always been my “background project,” the one I come back to when I feel inspired. I was hoping that maybe over the past 6 years I’d gained enough to piece it together, but I haven’t. And this WIP means too much to me to force it. So instead, I relinquished the reins and played. And the rest of my trip was sort of magical.

The muse, after all, has wings; every once in a while you’ve got to take off the leash and let her use them.

~*~

On an unrelated note, I’m trying to figure out how to juggle my posting schedule. I don’t like to link to myself overmuch. I keep links to my new posts to 2-3 tweets each, which leaves me more than half the week where I don’t have to be promoting anything. But now that I’ll be blogging for Writer Unboxed every other month, that’s about 1 out of every 8 blogs I post here. My question to you all is: Should I *add* those posts to my own (meaning once every 8 weeks I’ll need to promote two things in one week), or *replace* my posts here with those, sending my readers there? In other words, which is the lesser evil: over-promoting or providing less content here? If you have thoughts about that, please let me know!

It’s good to be back. =)

I’m back from the beach! I’ll tell you all more about that in my usual post on Monday, but I wanted to let you know before then that my very first post as Writer Unboxed’s Twitter columnist is up: “My 5 Unshakable Beliefs.” I talk about balance, quality, authenticity, and sad robots.

Photo by rnv123.

I’m so nervous and excited, and I hope you like it! If you get a chance in the next couple of days, I would love for you to check it out, maybe drop me a comment.

And if you’re here visiting because you found me on Writer Unboxed, welcome! I’m so glad you stopped by. Comments will be closed on this post, but feel free to browse around and leave me a note on other posts. Here are all of the blogs I’ve posted about Twitter in the past, right here at home base:

Twitter Tips Part 1: How to Get Followed Back
Twitter Tips Part 2: How to Keep Your Followers 
What the Way You Retweet Says about You

And you can also visit my old guest post at Writer Unboxed, “Be a More Confident Writer: 5 Choices That Might Be Hurting Instead of Helping.”

Thank you all so much. Have a great weekend,

Annie

Always, he would wait until I was finished. He didn’t interrupt me; he let me get out my tirade or woebegone mope. Then he would look at me, raise his hands out, palms flat, and say, “Pippy, make it happen.” (Pippy is my family’s nickname for me.) He always said it with such confidence.

I suppose there’s a chance that if you didn’t know him, this might sound arrogant. And indeed, there were times when this annoyed the crap out of me. “I can’t just ‘make it happen!’” I’d say. “I have no control over this.” Which would only bring about a repeat. “Just make it happen.” After much pouting and flailing and possibly a long list of rebuttals, I would invariably find a way to make it happen. Because if you want something bad enough, you can almost always find a way to make it happen.

And for the record, there was a sister phrase to this. If I was talking to him about a situation that I genuinely had no control over – and there was any possible way that he could help me where I couldn’t help myself – his response was an equally confident, “I’ll take care of it.” If I protested, “But Dad…” he’d repeat, “Pip, I’ll take care of it.” And he would. It’s one of the things I miss so greatly about him.

Recently, I’ve been itching to get away. I mentioned my February super-mega-slump-of-doom, which is part of it, but I also feel a floundering. A restlessness. An aching desire to be inspired and start something new, holed up by myself somewhere with a beautiful view, stuck in my own head with silence and ideas and characters I’ve yet to get to know. I want to go to the beach. I don’t know why, but my mom agrees that this feeling is bred into my DNA, that something in the ocean water calls to something in my blood.

But of course, I told myself there’s no way to go to the beach right now. For one thing, it’s winter. No one goes to the beach in winter. Plus, I can’t afford to go on vacation. I can’t spare the time away from home and my various writing groups. It would be selfish and self-indulgent and self-important to spend money on me in this way, as if I can’t be creative and get work done at home. I tried to talk myself out of it.

It wouldn’t go away. I heard my dad telling me to “just make it happen.”

So I thought, what the hell? I’ll at least post something on Facebook and see if any of my friends or family happen to have a beach house I could stay in for free. Probably not, but it’s worth asking, right? I posted a status about it and got nothing but jokes, which is about what I expected. I don’t exactly run in the circle who own their own vacation homes.

So… I tried. I needed to let it drop. But my dad’s can-do attitude kept nagging at me. Obviously, I can’t vent to him anymore. Instead, I vented to others. After looking at rentals online, I discovered that off-season is significantly cheaper, and that I could get a super tiny efficiency condo for just a few hundred dollars for a whole week. I told my husband first. And you know what? He told me that we should make it happen.

Hub-a-dub pointed out that I made a couple hundred dollars on my most recent short story, and that we could count the trip as a work expense. (I have this fantasy that I’ll write thousands and thousands of words on a new project. I don’t know how realistic that is, but it’s definitely a working trip.) He instantly saw that this isn’t a whim for me, but a very deep need I can’t explain. He told me we’ll find a way to make it work.

But I still felt guilty. So I told my mom, gauging her reaction. She, too, told me that she thought it sounded like a wonderful idea, and that I should pursue it. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have been gifted not one but two ultra-supportive parents, but I was.

Of course, there were immediate hitches. The first being that the super cheap price I first saw was so cheap because it was not actually on the beach. It was a bit of a walk, and there was no view. The view was integral to my plan; I needed to see the coast while I worked. That was the whole point. An extra couple hundred bucks seemed too much. But in the spirit of “making it happen,” I made a self-conscious request to my husband, my mom, and my brother. For my birthday this year, could they contribute to my beach-stay fund?

Three resounding and immediate yeses.

I know that I’ll never stop missing my dad, but in the sweetness and support that my family shows me, I see him. So to my mom, my brother, and my husband: thank you for encouraging me to “make it happen.” And when that wasn’t enough, thank you for “taking care of it.” I love you all so much.

I’m going to the beach.

~*~

Blog readers, this means I won’t be posting next week. (I plan to unplug.) Hopefully I’ll have some good stuff to talk about after my trip, so I’ll see you all on the flip side!

When was the last time you did something important for yourself? Is there something that you desperately want? Do you think you can find a way to make it happen?