Looking forward to 2018

I'm not gonna lie.  I was done with 2017 by about January 27th. And March 12th. And I'm pretty sure I begged for 2018 about 37 1/2 times throughout the year. Somehow I survived with all my fingers and toes still attached, though some family members didn't kept all their body parts. 

I've spent years telling myself, "As soon as I get through this, I'll (insert goal here)."  My great epiphany of 2017 was that life is not going to settle down for me. This is my normal and I'd better figure out some way to cope and move forward.  If things haven't settled down after seven years, they're not going to settle down. 

So I pulled up my big girl panties until I had a wedgie, pulled back my shoulders, and decided to push onward.

This year, I refuse to look back. Only forward.  Goals are set and excitement is building.  Instead of enduring the torrential downpour, I choose to dance in the rain, puddle-jump to my heart's content, marvel at the lightening shooting across the sky, and howl with the thunder as it vibrates through my bones.

No matter what life throws at you, I hope I find you dancing in the rain with me - it's always more fun when you have someone to splash with. May your new year be amazing and filled with wonder.

Happy New Year!

Dealing With Writer's Block

I knew this would eventually happen.  After five years of constant obsession over writing, editing, and improving my craft, I knew I would eventually hit a wall.  And, in true Susan Allred fashion, this writer's block is spectacular. Not spectacular as in, "this is so much fun I must do this every winter." More like "is this ever going to end? I have stories to write this century."

And it hasn't been just novel writing. The inspiration for our mystery game business has dried up, I have difficulty editing for more than fifteen minutes at a time, and I posted all of 238 words for NaNoWriMo in the month of November. Sigh. That's still 238 more words than I wrote in October.

Every day I sit at my computer with a list of different topics I could be writing about. And every day, I stare at a blank screen. I've plotted my Tim Reaper book twice, hoping to get the creative juices flowing. I've read other author's books. I've listened to a variety of audible books. I consider story lines as I'm driving and falling asleep, and have post-it notes all around my work space with ideas and prompts to motivate me to work.

I pray. I read my scriptures. Yesterday I went to the temple in hopes of finding the peace I need to begin working again. This blog is the closest thing to writing I've done all month. I'll take it.

As I struggle to find the creativity I need to push through this quagmire of creative mud, I'm reminded of those in the scriptures who endured hardships much more difficult than mine for years, sometimes decades, before finding relief.  I'm reminded that this minor struggle is a twinkle in the fabric of time, and it will pass. 

Until then, I take a deep breath, set my stories aside, and focus on my family during this holiday season.  Maybe what my mind is really telling me is that I need to spend more time with the little ones while they're still in my home. Make new Christmas memories, bake cookies, visit friends and loved ones, and serve those around me. 

What is a few months of writer's block if it means strengthening family and relationships and truly celebrating the birth of our Savior? So, I guess for now, I will continue to plot my stories while they're fresh in my head. And the true writing will begin in January. Sigh.  This too shall pass.

My Black Thumb Strikes Again

Autumn is one of my favorite times of year. Crisp air turns noses red, dense fog blankets the earth and hovers over the river. Leaves turns brilliant hues of yellow, orange and red. Homes are decorated with pumpkins, gourds, corn stalks and hay bales. Crunching footsteps tromp through piles of dry leaves. Children chatter about their Halloween costumes, and the smell of pumpkin pies and warm, spiced cider waft through the air. I can almost feel the heat on my face from the crackling fire in the fireplace, flames dancing over a log, casting shadows on the pages of my book as I read nearby.

In Spokane, the metamorphosis from Summer to Autumn occurs almost overnight. One week, sweat rolls down my back, soaking into my shirt from triple-digit weather. The next week, frost covers the green grass, and I'm scraping car windows before I take kids to early morning seminary.

But by ten in the morning, the weather is perfect. 65 degrees F. Vivid blue sky with puffs of clouds and a brilliant sun brightening the day. It's the kind of weather that makes me want to go outside and do something.

Courtesy of: http://parkseed.com

Today, I only had two appointments, which means I had a few hours without (gasp!) anything to do.  So, I went outside for the first time since...well, who are we kidding? It's the first time all year. And, it's October. Ahem. Anyway, I went outside. To do yard work. I'd had a box of Red Hot Poker plants my sister had given me two months ago. They'd been sitting in the dilapidated cardboard box, slowly dying, changing from deep green, to pale green, then to tan, and a few of the stalks were now brown and brittle.  I'd walked by that pathetic, wilting box several times a day going to and from my car with my kids. I'd scurry from therapy sessions to school, seminary, church, and everything in between, promising myself I'd plant those poor flowers tomorrow. 

Tomorrow was today.  I grabbed a shovel, drug the box with my half-dead plants over to the side of the house where it gets the most sunlight during the day. I cleared out all the weeds vines, and debris from a year's worth of neglect, and planted those darned plants. 

As I stood, staring at the side of my house, dotted with green, wilting stalks, I shook my head.  It'll be a miracle if these poor things survive the winter.  Heck, who are we kidding? It'll be a miracle if they survive a week. Especially with my black thumb. But at least they have a fighting chance. Something they weren't getting in that stupid box!

I went into the garage and put away my shovel, lamenting over how I'd managed to neglect another set of plants. As I opened my front door, I glanced at the rock garden where my rose bushes used to be, and spied an itty bitty little purple stem from a burgeoning rose bush! The very same plant I've uprooted
four times, placed landscape tarp over, and then covered with about 2,000 lbs of rock. And yet somehow, this tenacious little plant has found it's way to the sunlight again. 

I think I snorted. I guess if that thing can survive me intentionally trying to kill it, my Red Hot Pokers have a chance at surviving my unintentional murderous tendencies. Either that, or I'm going to have to put a cape on that little rosebush, because that bugger has super powers!

The Main Thing I Took Away From the ANWA Writers Conference

I've been home from the ANWA conference nearly a week. If you recall from my last blog post, one week prior to the conference, I was running around screaming and waving my arms in the air. Okay. This is not unusual for me, but there was a sense of urgency the last time around.

Now I'm home, the deed is done, and the pitches complete. I cannot undo what has been done, and quite frankly, I don't want to. I'm happy.

Not because we got one full and one partial request for our non-fiction, or because they wanted the first fifty pages for my YA novel.

 My happiness doesn't stem from my little sister and I getting first in our respective genres for the BOB (Beginning of Book contest), or from the new writerly friends I made, or even the dozens of pages of notes, ideas, and inspiration I gained while I was there.

I am happy because I took a huge, monumental, earth-shattering (for me) risk and put myself and my writing out there. Nearly every writer fears sharing their work; giving it to someone and risking rejection.  It's almost as scary and walking up to the person you've secretly adored for years, looking the in them eye, and declaring your love to them.

Your heart stutters, stomach clenches, knees wobble, and a cold sweat forms all over your body as you scrutinize every nuance of their body language, mentally screaming for them to love you...er, your work. What if my writing isn't strong enough? What if I misspelled something? What if they don't like the storyline? What if there's a giant, gaping plot hole? What if...?

The what ifs can eat a person alive, bit by bit, piece by piece, until we're crippled with fear. Horrified by the self-perceived shortcomings of our work. We grip our pages tightly to our chest, afraid to show even a scrap of it to those around us. Heaven knows rejection runs rampant in the publishing world.

Writing is painful, at times tedious and, at least for me, the learning curve was much like climbing Mt. Everest. But so is losing weight and/or getting healthy, striving for the Celestial Kingdom, and any other truly worthwhile endeavors in our lives. To grow, we must be willing to endure a certain amount of discomfort or pain.

I've discovered 'no' from one person may be 'where have you been all my life?' from another.  No two people's tastes are alike. And, much like the dating game, we need to be willing to kiss a whole lot of frogs to find our prince (or princess).  But we still have to put ourselves out there and kiss 'em.

So, in a long, winding, convoluted way, I'm trying to say the main lesson I took away from the ANWA Writers Conference is to look fear in the eye and take the leap. The answer will ALWAYS be 'no' unless I ask. And to ask, I must put myself and my writing out there.

Last year the answer was, "not yet." Time will tell what the publishing world currently thinks of our work.  But I have a story to tell, and by golly I'm gonna tell it!

I hope you will join me on this journey and put yourself out there. Somebody is waiting for your story, wishing it would be told.  You don't want to disappoint them, do you?

Jumping Into the Fire

I don't know what I was thinking. If' I'd stopped for even a moment and considered what I was signing myself up for, I would've screamed and run the other way. Apparently, I wasn't thinking. That part of my brain must be defective.

Why do you ask? Because I'm planning on pitching two books at the ANWA conference.  A non-fiction with my sisters, and a YA novel I've written myself.  

Remembering back to last year, I should've known this was a bad idea. The stress of pitching one book can be staggering.  But two? Just shoot me now.  Or at least tie me to a post and walk away.  Apparently I'm out of my mind. 

Not only is it two books, but the submission process is completely different, so I'm learning two things at once.  A non-fiction involves a query, a proposal, and a few sample chapters. A YA novel involves a query, and a completed story.  Even the query formats are different! Ugh. 

And yet I persist.  Sleep is highly overrated, right?  I'll catch up when I die. Which, at the rate I'm going, may be sooner than anticipated. 

Here I am, one week away from pitching, and I'm running around with my hair on fire, screaming like a banshee, wondering how I'm going to pull it all together.  Or if I even can.  

Check on me in ten days. If I answer, you'll know I survived. If I'm huddled in the corner sucking my thumb, you'll know survival is a highly subjective term. 

Twitter Pitches: An Entirely New Experience

I've seen mention of Twitter Pitches in other writing forums. Usually I hear about them after the fact. A few months ago, after missing another one, I decided to do some research.

For those who have never heard of a Twitter Pitch before, is where those who have a completed, polished manuscript create a Twitter-length (140 characters) pitch about your book (you must leave room for hashtags describing genre, and twitter pitch hashtag).  For example, one of my pitches looks like this:

Homecoming Dances, Bullies, Kidnapping, and the Mexican Mafia are a typical day’s work for this teenaged spy. #IWSGPIT #YA #Ad

It's not fantastic, but I had all of 20 minutes to come up with my pitch because I forgot the Twitter Pitch was today. It ultimately doesn't matter though. What I'm really gearing up for are the Pitch Wars, and PitMad which occur in August and September.  Brenda Drake ( http://www.brenda-drake.com/) has a lot of great information on how to participate in a Twitter Pitch.

Today, I am taking part in the Insecure Writer's Support Group Twitter Pitch (#IWSGPit).  This is the first time they've hosted a Twitter Pitch and with more than 30 Literary Agencies represented, I thought I'd give it a go.

At the very least, I'll work on my elevator pitch or hook.  At the most, I might get one or two agents to request more information.

I'm two pitches in (I can submit one pitch per hour) and the only people liking my pitches are people who follow me on Twitter. But I'm treating this much like any other query prospect. It's a long shot and a learning experience which will better prepare me for the Twitter Pitches I'm preparing for in the future.

Have any of you participated in a Twitter Pitch? What did you think of it? Did you get any feedback?  I'd love to hear from you in the comments.

Reading Through the Generations

Much of my childhood was filled with books, listening to stories, telling stories, and falling asleep to stories. On trips, my parents would play children's books, narrated on colored audio cassette tapes, each tape color coded for it's respective story.  We'd spend hours in the car reading along with the lively storyteller, letting the words come to life in our minds.

Before I was old enough for school, Mother would pile four or five of us on her lap or at her feet to read a few chapters before nap time, often featuring scripture-related themes. Colorful illustrations would fill the pages for us to view while Mother spoke.

At bedtime, Dad would come home, gather us onto a bed, and proceed to tell us lively renditions of The Three Billy Goat's Gruff, Goldilocks and the Three Bears, or Little Red Riding Hood.  If we were particularly lucky, he'd make up an adventure of his own.  One all-time favorite was the Green-Handed Monster From Piccolo Street. Dad would gesture, change voices, and provide lots and lots of tickling. Then he'd tuck us into bed, kiss us goodnight, and our dreams would continue where his imagination left off.

As we got older, reading became second nature.  Mom and Dad had bookcases filled with layers of books in all shapes, sizes and genres.  I remember one particular wooden book case with scroll work and doors.  I'd spend hours pulling the books out and reorganizing them by shape, name, or color - depending on my mood.  When my father passed away, that was the item I requested from his estate.

In their closet, another bookshelf filled with the paperbacks, displayed their favorite titles.  Dad had nearly every Louis L'Amour book written.  Mother preferred romances, particularly Barbara Cartland stories.  As soon as I was old enough to read, I began sneaking into their paperback stash and borrowing a book or two.

Between my library books, and the borrowed books, I was constantly reading. While some children got in trouble for causing mischief, we were scolded for staying up till three or four in the morning reading.

Now that I'm a mother, I work to find new ways to introduce the love of reading to my children. There was no Internet, cellphones, and little TV for me growing up.  Now a days, these items seem to be the babysitter, entertainer, teacher, and friends to people of all ages.

My third child is now eight.  This year she began reading chapter books and exploring independent reading.  This opened new worlds to her, especially this summer when we limited her use of electronics and television.

Now, she's started her own blog, YouTube, Instagram, Facebook Page, and Twitter Account to review each of the books she's read and to give her opinions.  I don't know where she gets her ambition from (ahem), but she seems to be thriving. She mentioned to one of the local librarians that she was starting a vlog, and now the person in charge of author spotlights for all the libraries in the county has requested an interview. My sweet little pipsqueak is loving every minute of it.

I don't know if the vlog will continue past the end of summer, but at the very least Courtney is exploring new genres, authors, and books.  Plus she gets to wear lots of different outfits when she vlogs!

If I am lucky, she will continue her love of literature into adulthood and beyond. Hopefully she will share that love with others around her, reminding them there is more to this world than smart phones, vines, and Snapchat! And she will understand that with each story she reads, entire worlds will open up to her.

What things have you done to encourage reading and literacy with your children, grandchildren, and young ones? I'd love to know!  And if you happen to be a children's author and want Courtney to review your book, drop me a line!

18 Ways to Improve Your Writing Efficiency

We had our monthly ANWA meeting today. As usual, it was wonderful. A sister returned who hadn't attended in nearly a year, and we discussed our writing progress.

A common thread emerged during conversation: "I need be more productive when writing."

 So I decided to brainstorm ways we can become more efficient to increase our writing output.

1.  Turn off the Internet. Okay, this is a no-brainer.  For many reasons. For the purposes of writing a book, you should disconnect your Internet for at least seven years, just to be safe.  Imagine how many hours you can devote if you're not reading the news, talking to other writers, reading writing prompts, or connecting with family. The internet is evil. Eeeeeevilllll. 
2. Get rid of children. Speaking of family, your kids are impeding your productivity. Get rid of them. Dump them on your spouse, your older children, introduce them to the television, or confine them to the backyard. Parenting is highly overrated anyway. Leaving them to their own devices is the only way to prepare them for the cold, dark world around us anyway. As long as they are alive, and relatively well fed, then you're good. 
3. Get rid of spouses, friends, and anyone else who likes to talk. While you're at it, it might be best to sever all ties to your spouse, friends, relatives, and anyone else who sucks time away from writing. Consider removing the dog's vocal chords. There's nothing more annoying than catching up on Aunt Alice's latest fashion disaster when all you want to do is work on your current WIP.
4. Remove pets from your writing space. C'mon. Fluffy does NOT need to be on the keyboard.  She will be perfectly fine confined to the bathroom.  Better yet, send her out back with the kids. They'll take wonderful care of her. No, those scissors little Billy snagged are not intended to give Fluffy a haircut. And Sally is fast enough to stay out of his grasp. Her ponytails will be just fine. Honest. 
5. Read Books. We hear it all the time.  Read read read! In fact, I've heard 36-hour reading marathons work wonders on one's relationships, writing ability, and housekeeping skills.  If you're lucky, maybe you'll find an author with a 15 book series.  You might have to binge. Oh, the sacrifices you must make in the name of your craft!
6. Listen to podcasts, and read articles or blogs on productivity. This is much like a Netflix binge. Find a podcast or author you like and listen to every podcast produced since the beginning of time. If one podcast is good, then 7,894 is better, right?
7. Quit your full-time job. To be a serious writer, you must sacrifice for your craft.  All true artists make sacrifices. The greater the sacrifice, the more committed you are a a writer, right? So go ahead. Quit your job. Lose your house, eat less food, don't pay the bills.  In the end you'll have massive pools of experience to draw from for future stories.
8. Ignore your church callings. Heavenly Father will understand. He wants what makes us happy. And writing makes us happy. He won't mind if we take a small hiatus from our callings...or church for that matter.  As long as we're doing what makes us happy. 
9. Starve. Wait. Scratch that. Indulge.  Make sure rich, chocolate, caffeinated sodas, savory chips and goodies are always within reach while you're sitting at your computer.  Use those extra calories to maintain your energy and keep you from being distracted by annoying things like family dinners. If your cup doesn't runneth over, buy more soda. 
10. Don't clean your house or do yard work. Oh the hours you'll save if you leave the housework and domestic responsibilities to someone else!  Just put on a set of blinders, or better yet, situate your desk facing a corner. You'll never see the chaos around you. Or the rats and bugs. I'm pretty sure the health department can't enter unless you let them in. 
11. Holidays are highly overrated.  Holidays require a person to go to parties, socialize, make extra food, shop for presents, and spend time with (shudder) family.  Holidays are no bueno.  Avoid them at all costs. 
12. Limit your sleep to three hours per night or less. Utilize time originally spent doing nothing. Sleep is a perfect example.  You were accomplishing nothing during those hours anyway. Instead, rise several hours early. Or better yet, pull an all-nighter and hammer out a few thousand more words. 
13. Type until your fingers bleed. Breaks are for lazy, un-dedicated amateurs.  Carpel Tunnel? All in your head.  Need a break? That's why God created potty breaks. Fingers tired? Rest them while you're grabbing a handful of Cheetos. Then get back to work! Sit down at 5:00 a.m. and type until your fingers bleed.  
14. Never ever ever write by hand. Oh heavens. There's a reason why typewriters were created. Then replaced by word processors, which were replaced by computers. Who needs the tactile input pen and paper offers? Plus, you're killing trees.  Tons of them!  You don't want to be responsible for decimating an entire rain forest, do you?
15. Steal, if you must. Sometimes writer's block becomes unbearable. Or you get lazy. Whatever. In that case, plagiarism is okay.  But only if you don't get caught.  If you get caught. Well, then. You're on your own buddy!  Don't say I didn't warn you. Because if anyone asks, I totally threw a hissy fit telling everyone to never ever ever EVER steal someone's work. That'd be just wrong (wink wink).
16. Let the words flow like a waterfall. Trust your initial instincts.  the most ineffishent use of ur time iz editing ur first & subsequant drafts.  1000's ov people submit there NaNoWriMo 1stdrafts to publishers & lit. agents mere days after completing they're first draft.  Thousands of people can't be wrong, can they????????
17. Never ever ask for help. Forget about it. Nobody wants to help you.  They're only interested in your final draft. You are an island.  Suck it up and do this by yourself. 
18. Ignore me.  In fact, do the opposite of everything mentioned. Utilize the Internet for information and resources as needed. Take care of children, nurture family and relationships.  Fulfill your callings. Go to work. Take care of yourself and pets. Take breaks. Ask for help and edit like crazy. Learn along the way. Take your time, and go at your own pace.

Writing is most efficient when done in moderation, fully dependent upon your particular life, priorities, and lifestyle permits. Writing is an activity that can be a hobby, a profession, an obsession, or any variation in between.  The key is to make sure you don't burn out, and you don't ignore the other priorities in your life. The only requirement you have to be a writer is to write. Put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard. One word, or 500,000 words; it doesn't matter. Just write.  

Good luck!  Enjoy the journey, and be sure to take time for yourself along the way.  Everything else will come in it's own time. 

All the best, 

Susan 

I Will Not Compare Myself To Others

Normally I'm a pretty confident person.  My life is not perfect. I know it. I've come to terms with the things I cannot change, and I work harder to change what I can.

But for some reason, this last couple of weeks, I've struggled with comparing myself to others.  I don't know if this is because I spent the better part of that time with strep throat and the flu, while also caring for my youngest who had strep throat and a staph infection.  I do know this means I'm about seven pages behind on my to-do list.

I know part of my problem is that I'm spending too much time on social media. It's hard not to compare your rough draft to someone's final product.

I listen to stories from my writer friends who are cranking out a book or two or three a year, and I'm thinking, "Hey! I think I added 2 pages this month."

Plus, I'm working on a book with my sisters. Each of us has a specific list of things responsibilities for the book.  We also have a mountain of other responsibilities in addition to writing this book.  As we do our daily/weekly check-ins, I continually struggle with internal dialogue accusing me of not pulling my weight and doing as much, or as well, or as often...well, you get the picture.

Finally, last night around 1:00 a.m., as I was staying up extra late to close the self-perceived gap between me and my sisters, I threw my hands up in the air.  I closed my eyes, wishing I could go to bed and get some sleep. But my mind kept saying, "Just a few more minutes.  You're almost caught up."

For one brief moment, I remembered a conversation with my husband earlier in the day. We'd been talking about the atonement, but it just as easily related to my desire to 'keep up'.  He told me, "What you do is good enough.  It doesn't need to be  your very best, or 100% all the time.  As long as you are trying, that's good enough."

And with that thought, I drug my butt out of my chair, and shuffled to bed.

This morning, without the fog of exhaustion seeping into my thoughts, I see the error of my ways.  Why am I comparing myself to someone who isn't living the same life I am? They're not fighting my battles. They don't have the same demands on their time.  Yes, there are people who write better, more prolifically, and publish more often than me.  I will be there one day.  But there is a time and a season for everything.  This is not my time or season to be a full-time writer.  I am a full-time mother, and a part-time writer.  Full-time writing will come in time.  I just need to be patient. Comparing myself to others is like opening the front door and welcoming Satan to make himself at home.  Nothing good will come of it.

5 Ways I am Working To Become a Better Writer

If you talk writers, nearly all of them are constantly learning about their craft.

At the 2016 ANWA Writer's Conference, I listened to Anika Arrington confess not using pages from her past books as examples for her class because her writing had changed too much over the last several years.

I remember thinking, "Your books are published. How are they not good enough?"

Since then, I've seen my writing change drastically. For the better, I hope.  Below are some ways I've worked at becoming a better writer

1. Read.  I often thought I could read or I could write, but I didn't have time to do both.  Um, No.  Find time.  Always find time.  Though I don't read as prolifically as most, I do my best. Even if it's a book in the car while waiting for my kids, or on the stairs as I wait for my youngest's bus to pull up.  Every bit counts.  Especially when I'm actively writing.  I'll nearly hyperventilate when I get to a scene that grabs me, then obsess over it for days, dissecting the scene until I know exactly how it was written to evoke such emotions.

2.  Listen. It took a while to realize I should "plug in" during my 30-minute work commutes with an audio book, a TED talk, a conference talk, Podcast, or anything that may cause my creative juices to flow. Now, I multitask. I'll try to listen while doing housework, driving, or any other time where I'm doing mindless activities.

3. Don't Listen. Some of my best inspiration is found during those aforementioned drives when the radio is off and I let my mind wander, replaying my current scene until I have the dialogue just right. I may consider 'what if' scenarios for future books, or add layers of interest to characters I'm working on.

4. Learn. I spend way too much time on Pinterest. Ask anyone who knows me. Or several who don't. I agree.  Anyone with more than 40,000 pins has a problem.  I'm sure I'll have an intervention soon.  But Pinterest has a crazy amount of resources and links to writing-related tutorials, material, information, tips, and ideas.  At last count, my Board,  "The Writer In Me" had 4,950 links to writing-related resources. Plus, I have 25 other writing-related boards. Several of the pins I've read, and others I haven't, hoping to come back when I have more time.  My goal is to read 3-4 how-to articles a week.

5. Apply.  After learning something new, I invariably end up back at my current WIP, sifting through the pages to see how I can apply my new-found knowledge. Sometimes I feel like I'm spinning my wheels, re-editing the same pages. Other times, it's as if angels are singing from Heaven.  Either way, it's forward progress.

No matter how I look at it, writing is a fluid process.  For someone who loves to learn, I couldn't have chosen a better hobby/obsession/wanna-be profession. The writer I was seven months ago at the ANWA Convention versus the writer I am are two different people. Hopefully for the better. But I know this progress is due to the efforts I make, bringing me one-step closer to being the writer I want to be.

Anger and Rage From a Writer's Perspective

For those of you who don't know, I have a son with Down syndrome. I've been blogging about him  from the moment I discovered he'd have Trisomy 21. I've discussed Jacob-related miracles, stories from the three months he's spent in the hospital, his open-heart surgery, and numerous milestones that make up his life. As a result, I probably love Jacob more fiercely than my other children because I've had to fight so hard to keep him in our family.

In addition to blogging, Jacob has his own Instagram Account so I can share him with others also touched by people with disabilities. Not only can I share and rejoice with family and loved ones who had a hand in Jake's development, but there are people whose lives are similar to mine. Together, we rejoice in the triumphs, mourn the lows, and pray for miracles as needed.

Today, I experience my first troll on Jacob's account.

Last week Jacob's big sister had a pirate themed birthday party. So, I took a picture of Jake with a patch over his eye, looking fierce. The caption was, "Arrrr! I'm a pirate!" and posted it on his Instagram account along with a couple of Down syndrome related hashtags.

The troll, someone who doesn't follow my account, then proceeded to say something nasty about Jacob, and tag one of his friends to come look at Jake's picture.

Arrr! I'm a pirate!!

In that split second, when I realized what had happened, my blood boiled, ears burned, jaw pulsed, stomach roiled, and heart surged with adrenaline. My fists balled into fists and lips pursed into a tight line. I'm pretty sure I may have suppressed a growl too.  This was an honest-to-goodness fight-or-flight reflex, and Mamma Bear was ready to rumble.

I resisted the urge to hunt that troll to the ends of the earth and inflict unimaginable amounts of misery on them. How dare they say such mean and hurtful things about a child who cannot stand up for himself.  Instead, I blocked the troll and immediately made Jacob's Instagram private.

And then I spent the next several minutes, from a writer's perspective of course, examining that instantaneous reaction I'd experienced. In essence, I dissected my emotional reaction, noting each physical and emotional reaction I'd felt.

It's been decades since I've felt rage. I hope never to feel it again. But, should I have a character in one of my stories who needs to show and feel rage, I now have first hand documentation of what that emotion feels like.

Sharing the Writing Process With My Teenaged Son

Nathan's books - well, 1/4 of them, anyway.

Connecting with my son through writing has been one of my biggest rewards.

Nathan is 17 1/2 now. He's at that age when most boys hold up in their rooms, blast music or play video games, and block their family out of their lives. At least that's what my brothers did growing up.

Nathan, on the other hand, reads.  He's been fanatical about reading from the moment he discovered new worlds unfolding on the pages in front of him. At one point, he had thousands of books downloaded on his phone. He keeps telling me he needs another row of shelves along his bedroom walls for books.  I continue to put it off. If I build a shelf, he will want to fill it. And that gets expensive fast!

As I've written my Unleashed! series, Nathan has always known at least one of the books would be about him.  He's been a good sport so far, bless his soul.  He's endured photo shoots, questions about hypothetical situations and how he would handle them. We've had actual arguments over how my imaginary characters would or would not act. The boy has an incredible grasp of human nature and strategy.

This weekend, I mentioned to Nathan how I didn't think my first chapter of Unleashed! was strong enough to catch the Literary Agents' attention. To my surprise, he agreed.  Then, he proceeded to tell me four different areas that were weak, or unbelievable. After hearing his reasoning, I hung my head, and trudged to the computer to create an alternate beginning.

I've spent the last week slaving over my laptop, and finally have it finished.  Nathan likes the new start much better.

If you're interested in offering up your opinions, let me know and I'll send each of the versions to you. I'd be interested to hear what you have to say.

Now, I'm off to go pick a fight with him about whether or not a seven-year-old girl is physically capable of taking down a 300 lb man.  Wish me luck!

Building My Writer's Platform

Unleashed! is written, and I'm submitting to Literary Agents.  However, as many of you know, this part of the process is slow going.

It can take upwards of a month or two or six before I'll get a response on my book, if I get one at all. So, in order to keep from going crazy, I'm building my writer's platform. Ugh.

This means, building and maintaining my website, working on my blog, building a mailing list, and increasing my reach on social media.  I don't have 11K followers on Twitter, like Brandon Mull.  I don't have thousands of people on my e-mail list. Technically, I don't even have one. Yet. But I do have almost five thousand followers on my Pinterest account. Does that account for something?
I hope so, because what I learned from building followers on Pinterest is this: The first thousand followers are the hardest. After that, the ball begins to pick up momentum on it's own. Any work a person puts in after that, only increases the momentum.

It took a month of hard work - hours upon hours pinning and following others until they started finding me on their own.  Now, I average a few hundred new followers per month, putting in minimal work. If only I can translate that effort into an e-mail list.

At the ANWA Northwest Writer's Retreat last Fall, Leah M. Berry presented her book, Story Marketing: How to Have Fun Marketing Your Fiction Book. I was fascinated, enthralled, and excited by all the ideas she presented. Marketing has always been the hardest part of running a business for me. But she presented it in a beautiful little package that sang to my introverted soul!

I bought the book then went home and drafted a list of ways I could use her ideas for my book. Now I have 110 blogs, and a year's worth of tweets, Facebook posts, and Instagram ideas.

I know what you're thinking: "That's a lot of work!" But Seriously? If you're like me, you already spend hours in front of a computer editing, writing stories, and building entire new worlds. You've already done the work.  Why not use some of the material that didn't make it between the cover of your book to draw more potential buyers?

Right now, I'm in the throws of website creation and integrating the mailing list to the website.  I'll keep you posted on my progress.  Hopefully it will be good news!

Until Next time...

To Cuss, or Not To Cuss, That is the Question

Recently, I sent one of my stories to a beta reader.

She pointed out that my character cussed at the beginning of the story, and then just...stopped.  No event precipitated this action. No one complained or corrected her in the story. The character just stopped.

This one comment caused me to pause.  I'm pretty sure my character cussed only three times in the entire book. All biblical - i.e. words you can find in the Bible. However, because I am LDS, and my beta reader was LDS, this was something she was acutely sensitive to.

Then I got to wondering about what kind of message I want to convey to my readers. I know swearing probably won't even register on most readers' radars. And that's fine.  But as a writer, I fully expect that my status in the LDS church will be known. 

And if I want to be published, I also expect to be telling everyone and their dog that I've written something worth reading.  Am I okay with letting my kids read my book, knowing there's swearing in it? How about my Relief Society President, or my Bishop? My niece? Other impressionable teens? Am I okay with letting my protagonist's language be an example to her readers, or am I choosing to model current language standards?

My answer may not be the same as yours.  And that's okay.  No two books should ever be alike. I guess because I am LDS, and because language and morality is integral to my belief system, this particular subject, struck a chord with me. It was a reminder to be aware of who I am and what I want to stand for. Because people will be watching, and hopefully one day reading, what I have to say.

Learning to Love the Journey

I've been working on Unleashed! for nearly 5 years.

That's a long time to be working on a single story. In my defense, I had no real writing experience. I needed to learn how to tell a story. Everything, up until now, has been through hands-on learning.  Critique groups, ANWA meetings, articles, pod casts, videos, more articles, reading other's work, then reading more books about writing.  I've fluctuated from 50,000 - 125,000 words, and everywhere in between, so many times, I have whiplash.

But, you know what? I wouldn't trade it for the world.  This journey has had enough highs and lows to qualify as a world-class roller coaster ride. But that's the beauty of it.

As a child, people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up.  I wasn't really sure, but I knew I didn't want to be bored. I figured I'd be a firefighter, or go into the military, or maybe even SWAT.  I never imagined I'd find my excitement sitting at a desk for hours at a time.

In my imagination, I can flit from a romance novel, to a comedy, to an action flick, then into a world of fantasy, all without skipping a beat.  What am I in the mood for? Let's create it!

I may have authored 19 different drafts of the very same story, but each one is unique in it's own way, building my characters from a one-dimensional concept, to a three-dimensional person a reader can connect to, root for, and laugh with.

Have I mastered this writing thing yet?  Not by a long shot. But by golly, I'm having fun figuring it out.

So Many Stories, So Little Time

Courtesy of publicdomainpictures.net

By Susan Allred

Today, I was driving to my daughter's school to pick her up. Like many of us do, I had a spark of inspiration, and a story idea came to mind.  While in the parking lot waiting for her, I pulled out my cell phone and dictated the basic story line onto my phone, then saved it for review later.

I glanced down at my phone when I was done and realized I'd somehow accumulated 42 notes--story ideas created on the fly while in my car. This is in addition to the 28 stories I'd put into my last phone, and the 68 I have on my computer. Um, seriously?  Can I just finish the story I'm working on right now?

I have enough stories to keep me busy for several life times. And that's if I don't imagine another story in the future.  But it begs to wonder, how many story ideas do my fellow ANWA members have?  I can't be the only one rolling in ideas, can I?

Please comment, I'd love to know.

Slashing Word Count is Much Like Losing Weight

Resource: Pixabay.com

By Susan Allred

About eight years ago, I was on a quest. Over the course of my marriage, I'd managed to pile on an extra 130 lbs. I was tired of being winded after climbing the stairs, or holding my breath to tie my shoes, or avoiding sports all together. I wanted my life back!

I began working out, eating right, and learning new skills to become healthy.  It was torturous at first. There were many habits I'd grown to enjoy, and foods I did not want to give up.  I'd lulled myself into a sense of complacency by saying I was fine the way I was. In the beginning, I was able to lose lots of weight by making minor changes. But as the pounds came off, it took more work to earn the same losses. I had to stay focused.

Soon, responses from friends, family, and strangers began to pour in, driving my desire to push onward.  After several months, I'd lost nearly 90 pounds and 8 pant-sizes. I was a new, improved woman with a renewed sense of purpose.

I've spent the first weeks of 2017 cutting nearly 20,000 words from my manuscript. That's more than 25% of my story.  It was a story that, up until October, I thought was perfectly fine just the way it was. There were characters and vanity scenes I didn't want to give up, but I fooled myself into thinking it was fine to keep them. Eventually I acquiesced. Quit frankly, I was tired of writing this book, and I wanted to write other stories.

In the beginning, I was able to make major cuts by taking out scenes, or deleting characters who had no purpose. Those changes resulted in massive losses to my word count. But there came a point in my journey when I had to work harder.  Each sentence was examined, and every gesture considered, until I lost 19,763 words and had a tighter, more focused story.

My new and improved manuscript is the result of hours of work, learning new skills, and a willingness to remove things that didn't enriching the story. Learning to cut words mirrors that of losing weight.  The journey is often agonizing, but results in a tighter story, more praise, and a quality work that we can be proud of.

Is getting rid of the extra baggage easy? Not by a long shot. But I promise you, it will be worth every ounce of effort you put into it.

Is it 2017 Yet?

Elisha and Jason Lee, Married 12/17/16
at the Spokane, WA temple

I want to apologize for missing my last two blog posts.  I don't know about you, but these last few months have been crazy, busy for us. I came home from the NW Retreat at the end of October and kicked it into overdrive.

Somehow, I managed to find time to work, finish NaNoWriMo in November, have Thanksgiving (that's the holiday with a turkey dinner, right?), taking my daughter through the temple for the first time, plan for and have a wedding the week before Christmas, THEN have Christmas, followed by sending my husband and son off on their "Christmas gift": a trip to Denver to watch the Broncos play football.

I'm sitting in my chair, nearly comatose, my house looking like a tornado hit it, and a pile of un-finished writing assignments and tasks screaming for my attention. My neglected to-do list is pages long, and I'm ready for it to be over already.  Much like 2016.

And although 2016 had many incredible highlights, I am ready to move forward onto bigger and better things.

This year I hope to focus more on my health, strengthening my family, and carving out more time for writing.  In 2017 my youngest daughter will get baptized and my oldest son will be a senior in high school.  This will be the year I hope to have my first book published - either traditionally or independently.

When I look back on 2016, I'm tired; weary from the struggle of growth and endurance.  But when I focus on the next year, my spirit lifts, and I envision so many hopes for the future, and all it's possibilities.

I hope that as we say good-bye to the old, and usher in the new, we can take a moment to reflect on the lessons we learned, the blessings we received, and the lives that we touched.  May you find strength and peace in last year, while experiencing giddy anticipation for what lies ahead.

Happy New year everyone!  I'll see you next year!

Acrostic Poems and Gratitude

Photo attribution: Pexels.com

My friend Mary introduced us to poetry at our last Chapter Meeting (and at the NW Retreat, if you were there).  One of the types she introduced were acrostic.  Which, for me, is almost do-able. In an effort to broaden my horizons, and to celebrate one of my favorite times of year, I've written a few to share.  Happy Thanksgiving!







Thoughtful teachers who challenge my children
Hot cocoa on a cold winter night
ANWA sisters and brothers to lift me up
No more political posts!!
Kneeling to converse with my Father in Heaven
Friends who offer undying support
Unadulterated love from my family
Laughter until my stomach hurts

                     
 ***

Turkey until I'm bursting at the seams
Holiday cheer fills the air
Apple cider warms the tummy
November frost nipping at our noses
Knee-deep in mashed potatoes
Sweet and savory delights makes mouths water
Gratitude is the attitude
Introducing young ones to Thanksgiving parades
Victory dance after football games
Icicles dripping to puddles in the snow
Not quite Christmas
Grateful for my abundance

My First Rejection Letter

I'd been waiting nearly six weeks.  I'd tried not to let my hopes get up, but it was my first query, ya know? Every night--who are we kidding--every few hours I'd check my in box, wondering if they'd responded.  Then I'd check the Spam folder, and any other folder the e-mail could have possibly been filtered to.  Just in case I'd inadvertently missed the acceptance letter, and the agent was waiting for me to respond.

No such luck.

You can imagine my open-mouthed surprise when I discovered a response tonight in my inbox. I'd been closing down my work computer and it was there. Poof! Just like that.

I read the e-mail. Then I read it again.

The agent was really quite kind, for a rejection letter.

I sank back into my office chair and stared at the screen, waiting for the burn of embarrassment to rush to my face.  Or a pit of shame to form in my stomach. After all, I had not meeting this agent's expectations. What other emotion is there after a rejection?  But shame and embarrassment didn't come.  That, of all things, is what shocked me the most.

I dissected my emotions, or lack thereof, while driving home, but I was still clueless when I walked through my front door.

I relayed my rejection to my daughter and she asked, "What are you going to do now?"

What was I going to do?  My story had been rejected.  Am I not as good a writer as I thought? Maybe I was right to doubt.

Maybe not.

I recalled an article I'd read before I'd even considered publishing.  The writer ranted about how they had a 1 in 10,000 chance of being published traditionally.  I remember thinking, "I guess that means I need to send out 10,000 queries. Thank goodness we have e-mail instead of snail mail."

To my daughter I said,  "I guess that means I have 9,999 queries to go."

Of course, it's more than that.  I'm pretty sure I know what I need to cut, and where I lost this agent in my story.  I lost her at the vanity scenes I'd kept because I wanted them, not because they furthered the story.

I'd submitted this story because it was good enough to be published, but knowing it wasn't my best work.  Now, I will go back and re-write it, not to be good enough, but so readers will fall in love with my characters the same way I have.

Am I going to stop doing queries? Nope.  Look at the incredible morsels of knowledge I learned from one rejection.  Imagine how much I could learn from several.  Besides, the more rejections I get, the closer I am to my goal. Only 9,999 to go!