Wed. June 16, 2022: Work Day

image courtesy of StockSnap via pixabay.com

Wednesday, June 16, 2022

Waning Moon

Pluto & Saturn Retrograde

Cloudy and humid

Yesterday was a reasonably quiet day, especially as to where we were last year at this time. It wasn’t without its disappointments. A grant opportunity landed on my desk, and looked promising. But it’s one of those where they didn’t let the applicant read through the entire application nor did they list all the requirements. So after spending too much time filling out the application, I hit a requirement that was not mentioned in the guidelines that required unpaid labor to create something they would keep for their archives, whether they gave me the grant or not.

No. Just no. That’s exploiting grant applicants.

There’s a post on Creativity is a Business over on Ink-Dipped Advice. The profits that the arts have made, even in the year after the shutdowns, is astonishing. And too damn small a portion goes to the actual artists.

There’s also a post on Gratitude and Growth that goes into more detail about Tuesday’s visit to Berkshire Botanical Garden, and about the other garden stuff happening here.

Had to make another bank deposit, mailed my quarterly taxes (ouch), and attempted, yet again, to check out the new coffee place that opened a couple of blocks away. They were still closed a half hour after their posted opening times. This is the second time this has happened. Just proves that you can’t trust a “business” that only has a Facebook page and not an actual, professional website.

Got some writing done, wasn’t happy about any of it. Handled a bunch of email. I’m still at nearly 500 emails in the inbox, which will have to be addressed today. Turned around a script coverage. The pay period ended yesterday, and I nearly made my goal. Let’s hope I can hit it in the second half of the month.

The guy coordinating the World’s Largest Poem sent me information on a playwrighting workshop offered by a playwright from this year’s Williamstown Theatre  Festival. I took a look, and signed up. I’m feeling a little stuck in the stage play aspect of my career right now, as far as writing, and it would be good to shake that up a little. There are COVID protocols, and it’s at the Berkshire Atheneum down in Pittsfield, a space in which I feel comfortable and know that they have protocols in place, too, so it is a calculated risk that tips in my favor, rather than the virus’s favor.

Spent some time on BookBub. I’m adding authors to follow and recommending books I like. I think I will have to work my way author-by-author, because it takes time. I need to do it slowly.

But that’s how one builds sustainable accounts anyway, slowly and organically.

Had a bad night. First the fire alarm went off, for no discernible reason. I got it quiet, checked everything and double checked it, just to make sure. Had trouble going back to sleep, and then woke up every hour. Charlotte had her paws full, trying to look after me (and she is exhausted this morning). At four, I gave up, and moved to the sewing room, so Tessa could keep an eye on me. Charlotte joined me. Tessa forgot I was in the sewing room, and went back to my bedroom to wake me up, astonished I wasn’t there.

I gave up and fed them a little before 5.

After my first writing session in longhand, I was excited to hit my desk and do my second writing session on the computer. Only Windows11 decided to do one of its long updates, and then I had to “set up” the computer as though I’d never used it before, even though I set it up exactly the way I wanted it when I bought it two years ago. It was a ridiculous waste of time. On top of that, it’s trying to force me to synch with my phone. No. I don’t run my life from my phone, I resent the fact that I’m forced to HAVE a phone, and I don’t want my devices synched to the phone. No.

Not the start for which I’d hoped this morning. But still better than last year at this point, when we were in moving hell, and doing our second round trip to drop off stuff here.

But I have meditation group coming up, and then it’s back to the page. There’s plenty to do, and I need to get it done: working on The Big Project, finishing the anthology story, proofreading “Personal Revolution” so the re-release can happen on time, working on the Topic Workbooks, writing and submitting the book review so I can get my next assignment, turning around a couple of scripts.

Better get going then, huh?

Have a good one, friends.

Tues. Feb. 22, 2022: Creative Trajectories

image courtesy of SpaceX-imagery via pixabay.com

Tuesday, February 22, 2022

Waning Moon

Sunny and mild

2/22/22 – Pretty cool, eh?

Friday was kind of a disjointed day. A client issue that was supposedly resolved came up again, as though the initial conversation never happened. This is why I do everything in writing.

But, hopefully, it’s all actually handled now.

Got some admin done. The weather was nasty, but I managed to get out the garbage and go down to the end of the street to mail some necessary letters.

Finished reading the book for book club, and spent some time in the online forum discussing it, which was lots of fun. This book has inspired several new projects, about which I’m excited. They are all long-term, non-deadlined projects at this point, things I can work on as palate-cleansers in between other projects.

My mom’s new smart phone arrived. It’s a good one, a Samsung, much fancier than mine. But the “one step” setup/transfer from her old phone to the new phone took well over 100 steps and wasn’t complete until well into Saturday. And Tracfone’s “customer service” was, as usual, useless. But I think we might be able to unlock/take the phone to a different company, if things continue to be nasty.

I had a bad night Friday into Saturday, waking up every couple of hours, and then having trouble getting back to sleep. I think some of it is sense memory trauma – two years ago, I had the first of the cancer surgeries; last year I was stressed about the upcoming move. My body and psyche are reverting, because they believe they’ve been trained to do so at this point in the year.

Which means I have to do mindful work to disconnect the cycle of the year from previous cycles of stress and trauma, and build something positive.

Just what I need right now. More work.

But, in the long run, it will make for a more positive life experience, so I better dig in and do it.

On Saturday, I was supposed to head to the grocery store for N95 masks. They’d sent an email the previous day, saying they were giving them out. Only good thing I checked and found out that they weren’t do so at the one within walking distance. Because the next snowstorm came roaring through just as I would have had to leave, and I would have been stuck out on foot in whiteout conditions – and no masks.

I stayed inside instead, enjoying watching the snow fall. I read, mostly a biography of Ottoline Morrell. I’d read about her via diaries and letters of Bloomsbury folks, and I was annoyed then by the way they accepted her generosity and then trash-talked her. Reading her biography (the one by Miranda Seymour) made me even more annoyed. But then, talented as they were, hypocrisy and gossip were the standards of that group.

Allowed myself the day to rest and read and enjoy the snow. Other than changing the beds, I didn’t do much in the way of housework, although I did a bit of unpacking and rearranging. I am going to have to set aside a few half-days in the not-too-distant future to rearrange the filing. And I need more bookcases.

Did an online yoga/meditation session with a group I joined that’s for professional women who chose not to have children. It’s a solid group of people, and the session was good.

Did some research and pre-planning for a research trip I want to take in the spring of 2023. Figured out about how much money I need for it, how much time, breaking down the travel so it won’t be overwhelming. I’m hoping to build in a couple of days to see friends on the way, if it works for all our schedules. Both money and the curve of the virus will be key factors. I figured out how much I have to put aside every month between now and then to afford the trip and have a bit of a cushion. I want to make sure I enjoy the actual travel, not just push through to get to various destinations, and then am so worn out I can’t enjoy them. I’m not 20 anymore, and I can’t travel as though I was, just because that would be cheaper.

I also might be able to get a grant to fund at least part of the trip, so I will look into that and apply this year so the funds would be available next year, too.

It was a pleasant way to while away some time.

Did some collaborative work on the anthology. Grabbed a script to cover, and was also requested to cover another script, so that starts the week out well.

We got about six inches or so of snow, in a couple of bands. Not too bad, but the car’s all covered up again. I made a big pan of chicken enchiladas for dinner, with leftover chicken from the roast I did the other night.

Weird dreams again, Saturday into Sunday. One set of dreams was family-oriented, and not appropriate to discuss publicly, since the dreams aren’t just about me. In the other set, I was working at a conference, and trying to convince a speaker named Susan to let the sound tech wire her for her presentation (the mic pack freaked her out). Not sure what all that’s about.

Sunday was cold and sunny. Charlotte woke me around 6:30, tapping my face with her paw and head-butting me. Made scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and chives from our own plants.

Had a good, long, deep morning meditation session.

I updated the tracking sheets and Series Bible for The Big Project. That takes time, because the details are so important, but it’s necessary, especially if the project sprawls in the directions in which it’s possible (i.e., it’s a success, and goes beyond the first projected phase).

I unpacked two more boxes of books. These actually held books for current projects, and I was delighted that they made it up, and now I have them accessible on the shelves. Baby steps, right?

I did some brainstorming on the anthology, and sent an updated sheet of bullet points for the article on the theatre I created for that world.

I heard from the conference at which I’m teaching in August. They have decided to remain virtual this year. I’m perfectly happy with that. Even though they would have paid for hotel and most meals, I would have had travel expense, had to worry about clothes and makeup for four days (now I just have to look good for the Zoom session), and interacting/being “on” all the time for four days. Much as I would have liked to dip my toe back into the realm of in-person, virtual is a better choice for me personally this year, and for safety reasons for all of us. Plus, now I’m only teaching 2 hours (or maybe 4, if they want both courses) instead of 10. I’m perfectly happy about it, although I bet there will be grumblers. It also means more people from all over the country and world, who wouldn’t have been able to come in person, or would have worried about safety issues, can attend. I think it’s a positive all across the board.

I took most of the day, however, to rest and recharge. I needed it.

Yesterday was President’s Day and a holiday. Tessa got me up at 5:30. She has also decided she wants to hang out for morning yoga (which she always did at the other house), but Charlotte, who hangs out with me here, is not sure if there’s room for both of them. Believe me, there’s plenty of physical room. They just have to learn to give each other enough psychological room.

I worked on preliminary information for a large grant application for which I want to try. I need to figure out what I want to do with it.

It was sunny and mild out, and I took the opportunity to run errands: get the garbage out, pick up a few things at Cumberland Farms, Big Y, CVS, the liquor store, and check out some other stores I could get to on foot, in the hopes of finding cute little plant pots. No luck. The ones I found don’t drain, and that’s not an option.

Did some brainstorming on the anthology. Covered a script. It was sunny and mild enough to sit on the front porch in the afternoon and read there. The cats were as thrilled as the people.

I’m reading a book that’s supposedly a diary by the author, but is actually more of creative nonfiction. The headings have dates, but she admits they were written over the course of two years and change, not a single year. Because no one could travel back and forth across Europe and the country for month-long or semester-long residencies and be in different, far-flung locations so often. She uses something that happens in the day to trigger an essay built around it, and it’s well-written and engaging for the most part. But she’s one of those women who always has to have a man in her life and can’t be alone for five minutes. I have trouble respecting that kind of dependence. On top of that, most of the time, she’s a jerk to everyone around her, including the men. One would hope, in the process of writing the diary (or writing the essays that compromise the diary), that she would realize how badly she treats people around her, and try to be kinder. Learn from it. But she doesn’t. She just wallows in being a jerk. I mean, the diary is the best possible place to be a jerk, but hopefully, through the writing, you realize it and choose the path of non-jerkdom. Or at least attempt the path of being kinder. Not this woman.

I’m tempted to try reading some of her fiction, but I don’t like the “her” I’ve met on the page (which, since this is a journal for publication, is another created “her” rather than the actual person). I’m nearly finished with this book; but do I ever want to spend time with any of the “hers” again?

Highly doubtful. Although I’ve learned some good craft lessons for creative nonfiction by reading this book.

Woke up to a great article about a local entrepreneur I met last October. I’m thrilled for her! Looking forward to being able to support her business later this spring and into summer.

This morning, I have a Zoom session with fellow local entrepreneurs, which should be fun, and tonight, I’m signed up for a Zoom session via Titcomb’s Books (one of my favorite bookshops on Cape) for an author event with Nina de Gramont, the author of THE CHRISTIE AFFAIR. Two Zooms in one day! And a Zoom on Thursday for meditation! That fills my limit of not doing more than 3 Zoom sessions a week, whenever possible.

After the first Zoom, I need to head up to the library, to drop off and pick up books. Then it’s back to the page, and after that, another script coverage. It’s supposed to be mild for the next few days (although rain coming in tomorrow), but then another storm at the weekend.

One day, one step at a time, right? After all, I have books to unpack and projects to create!

Tues. Feb. 23, 2021: Die For Your Employer Day 278/MA Vaccine Distribution Fail Day 27 — Some Good, Some Frustrating

image courtesy of Gordon johnson via pixabay.com

Tuesday, February 23, 2021

Waxing Moon

Mercury Direct (as of Saturday)

Cloudy and cold

We have crossed the line of 500,000 COVID-19 deaths. The grief I feel is crushing. How can people shrug off such a loss? How can they be so horrible and selfish? Truly, I need to find a place where I can become a professional recluse, because people are awful.

Busy and weird couple of days.

Had to shovel us out again on Friday morning. Not too bad – took about an hour. I went over to the elderly neighbor’s and shoveled their drive, too. The only bad part was, again, the plow mashed about a foot of snow across the bottom of each driveway, and I had to get it out before it froze in place.

My mom felt better, still a little fatigued and dizzy, but the arm pain lessened.

I, however, was toast by lunchtime, and wound up spending the afternoon in bed. Completely wiped out. Read a bit, dozed a bit, Tessa kept me company. She was delighted.

Up early on Saturday morning. Another four inches of snow fell, so it was back outside with the shovel. It was fluffy, so it didn’t take long, except, yes, you guessed it, at the bottom of the drive, where the plow packed it in.

Did a curbside pickup at the library, and also at the liquor store.

Home, decontaminated.

After lunch, I started in on the boxes, because I was bad about keeping up all week. I purged 12 boxes, and it was frustrating. Lost two entire boxes of books to the damp. A metal trunk I’d stored down there rusted it through, and I lost the entire contents.

But I’ve started stacking the reorganized boxes on planks along the blank wall, and that’s working out well.

Unfortunately, I sprained my foot while I was carting things up and down, so not only was I purging boxes and running laundry up and down, but I did it on a sprained foot.

Not my idea of a good time.

 I was wrecked by the end of the day. Not to mention discouraged.

Woke up around 2:30 in the morning on Sunday, worrying, and couldn’t get back to sleep. Got up a little after 5. Did a dump run as soon as the dump opened, and then a quick grocery shop. Home, decontaminated, got out some LOIs (one to a place I really, really want to work).

Then, this buttercup had to buckle up and do more box-purging.

I had more plastic bins to work on in my quota stacks today than cardboard boxes. I emptied out several – kept a few things that were reorganized into other boxes, but tossed most of it. It feels good to get rid of what I no longer need.

Found some love letters and other correspondence around the time I was engaged to the English guy, way back when. What an optimistic idiot I was! Dodged a bullet there, when that relationship fell apart. It’s difficult not to have contempt for who I was then; it’s also difficult not to mourn her.

Worked on the article.

Finished the book for review, and sent off the review yesterday.

Fell into bed far too early Sunday night, which meant I kept waking up every few hours.

Up early yesterday, worked on the review, the article. Client work. Had to swing by a client’s office (while no one else was in) to answer questions that came in (Direct Response Copy Writing), but I needed to measure a piece in order to do it. Also packed up an order and dropped it by the post office, since the mail carrier no longer picks up packages at the business.

Home, decontaminated, back at the desk. Client work, LOIs (to some really cool places), keeping one ear on the Merrick Garland confirmation hearings, downloaded some of the digital contest entries – can’t wait to get started on them.

Trying to replace a couple of sources for one of the articles, and restructuring the piece. I can do something good with what I have; but those additional sources would take it over the top.

Over the weekend, I made a decision to cut loose the second grant proposal this session. I can do it fast or do it well, but not both. With the moving pressures on me, much as I want/need the grant money, I can’t do a realistic budget and source some of the information needed for the grant proposal to soar. Made a note in the calendar to see what I can do for next year – probably on a different project, but I should be in a better place to really write the grant. I also decided not to apply for the NEA grant. It’s too much right now.

As annoyed with myself as I am for not at least trying to write the grants, I’d rather not do it this year and write a strong proposal next year, than write a poor proposal this year. My time and energy need a different focus, and the grant committee doesn’t need a weak proposal.

Looked at real estate listings, which is terrifying. There’s a genuine housing crisis, and no one gives a damn.

Baker is making changes to the vaccine appointment/distribution system – and making it worse. I have no idea if my mom will even get her second dose.

There were NO appointments for Cape Cod open this week, except at the White Elitist Special Secret Number. This is not acceptable.

Worked on contest entries, and finished the print entries in the second category. There is one that is just magnificent. The rest of the incoming entries in that category are going to have to be spectacular to get ranked higher. It’s always so energizing to read a wonderful book.

I have a few print entries to read in the third category, and then I start reading the digital entries. I’ve got them all on my kindle.

Started reading my next book for review, which is quite good.

I got a response from an LOI I sent out last week, asking for script samples. They will go off today. I’d really like to land this client. I’d enjoy the work.

I’ve got client work today, but the bulk of the day will be spent on the articles. And scrubbing out the next section of the basement floor, so I can stack the re-organized boxes and get going on some more boxes.

Tomorrow will be a very stressful day on multiple levels, and I have to figure out how to get through it.

Have a good one, friends.

Thurs. Feb. 11, 2021: Die For Your Employer Day 267/MA Vaccine Distribution Fail Day 15 — Still Winter

image courtesy of Franz Bachinger via pixabay.com

Thursday, February 11, 2021

New Moon

Mercury Retrograde

Snowy and cold

The latest on the garden is up on Gratitude and Growth.

Yesterday was a stressful mess. Twisted communications messed up technology, fumbles, stumbles, frustrations. Nothing was really anyone’s fault – for the most part, everyone was doing the best they could. But it was a difficult day.

It was even more difficult not to beat myself up for not getting through it better and getting more done.

I forgot to mention that, on Tuesday, the Dig Safe guy came out in the snowstorm to plant little flags and paint the snow. Does he not comprehend that the snow will have to melt before any digging happens? That there’s no way I can keep track of all these little flags? Is there no basic common sense going on here?

Yes, the latter question is rhetorical.

Managed to get home in one piece, decontaminate, and made it to Remote Chat, albeit a bit late. The Chat was fun and restorative, as usual.

Spent some time on the acupressure mat. I’m sore from all the shoveling.  Tessa was happy for the company and very busy.

My mother’s blood pressure medication has brought down her blood pressure too far, so I have to call the doctor again to readjust it.

The Atlas coffee shipment arrived – Honduras is this month’s theme. It’s quite good, although yet another light roast. I wonder if I should shift to requesting dark roasts for a few months.

Noodling with ideas for the grants. I’ve blocked out some serious time to free write on them, my type of Writer’s Rough, so I can extract and polish the 250 words I need for each idea to fit into the proposal. Next week, I’ll get into some serious budgeting for the other grant proposal.

The Senate trial is truly chilling. What’s as enraging as the content of the evidence are the Senators with their feet up ignoring it. They put their feet up in the Chamber? Whack their kneecaps, make them sit up and pay attention. I’m sick of this entitlement. We already know it doesn’t matter to them, that they WISH some of their colleagues had been murdered. We already know they are traitors and need to be removed, imprisoned, and then exiled.

Governor Baker continues to screw the distribution of vaccines in the state. Two new sites are opening. Again, nothing on Cape. A mall in Natick will get 500 doses PER DAY, but this area gets 975 doses PER WEEK. Every other area of the state is getting increased doses EXCEPT Cape Cod. Anywhere else I try to get an appointment means a full day’s trip. I might be able to get vaccinated at the same time as my mom, since I am her caregiver, but how am I supposed to drive three hours to a site, and then three hours back after a vaccine, when one is supposed to sit and be watched for 30 minutes, and then rest for at least a day, up to three days? How am I supposed to expect a 96-year-old woman to take a day-long road trip with no facilities available that don’t put her at risk of getting COVID?

Last night, at the site in Danvers, 300 random people got to show up and get vaccinated because doses were expiring.  They weren’t on an official wait list. They just heard through word of mouth, that the doses were available and would expire, and had to wait out in the cold and snow to get them.

I’m glad the doses were used. I believe we all have the “right” to the vaccine and I have no problem with anyone getting it at any time. But why is the distribution so disorganized that there are doses expiring all over the state and NONE available on Cape, with its large elder population? A population that doesn’t have the mobility to travel all over the state in search of doses?

This is on Baker and his office. And he smirks his way through daily briefings, stating things that just aren’t connected to reality.

And these sites – you’re required to go back for the second dose, but what if there aren’t any appointments for the second dose? It makes no sense. The chaos is enraging and completely unnecessary. Like I said, I could do better with Google Docs than they’ve done.

And this is squarely on Baker. The state is getting dosage increases every week, and Baker is routing them badly.

Today, I have online meditation group, which I really, REALLY need. At noon, I have a virtual meeting with a potential new client – kind of feeling each other out, a preliminary meeting. I have to get out some LOIs, get work done on the proposals, and get out some of the interview requests for an article.

If it’s not too cold in the basement, I have to scrub the basement floor, and then purge at least 5 boxes. I’ve been lax about box purging this week.

I already spilled coffee on the light-colored rug in my office (that belongs to the house, not me), and have carpet cleaner soaking into it.

Not the start I hoped to the day, but let’s hope it gets better.

Mon. July 23, 2018: Dealing with Failure #UpbeatAuthors

Image courtesy of Cleverpics via pixabay.com

Monday, July 23, 2018
Waxing Moon
Saturn Retrograde
Pluto Retrograde
Neptune Retrograde
Mars Retrograde

As usual, this will focus on how failure affects us as authors, in our work and life. Some aspects can be applied to other parts of life, but the focus is on our art.

The first way to deal with it is to define it.

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines “failure” as:

Definition of failure

1a : omission of occurrence or performance; specifically : a failing to perform a duty or expected action 

• failure to pay the rent on time

b (1) : a state of inability to perform a normal function 

• kidney failure

 — compare heart failure 

(2) : an abrupt cessation of normal functioning 

• a power failure

c : a fracturing or giving way under stress 

• structural failure

2a : lack of success

b : a failing in business : bankruptcy 

• He was trying to rescue the company from failure.

3a : a falling short : deficiency 

• a crop failure

b : deterioration, decay

4: one that has failed 

• He felt like a failure when he wasn’t accepted into law school.

 

But do you?

I sometimes feel I fail if I let someone else down. If it’s because I was thoughtless or disorganized, then it’s on me and I damn well better find a way to make it right. But sometimes it’s because the other person put an unfair expectation on me and I wasn’t strong enough to say no right off.

Sometimes I feel that I failed if I don’t get an acceptance from a market or a publisher or a grant to which I applied. Yes, I failed to get that particular slot. Most of the time, though, another opportunity comes up that I wouldn’t have been able to accept if I had landed the previous one. Also, because I’ve worked on the publisher side of the table, I know that acceptance is more than just a well-written book: it’s about fitting the tone of a particular publisher, and fitting into the needs of a particular list. Most traditional publishers and some of the smaller publishers have to balance their list so it appeals to a spectrum of readers. If they have too many of one kind of book and none of another in any particular season, they will lose readers that season, and might never regain them. It’s about where your piece fits into the bigger picture, not just your piece.

Many organizations that give out grants expect you to apply (and fail to get an acceptance) over a period of years before they take the application seriously. This always angered me, even when I worked for such non-profits. But many organizations want to see that an artist can sustain work over a period of years before giving that individual money. They don’t want someone who will use a day job or another excuse not to work, or to accept the grant and not meet the requirements of the work that needs to be produced.

None of that knowledge takes the sting out of those refusals, or alleviates the sense of failure.

How do you deal with it?

Acknowledge that you feel angry, sad, whatever. Don’t get on social media and rant and rave against the publisher, agent, or organization. It’s fine to admit disappointment, but don’t attack. Save the venting to do in person, privately, with people you trust. Because there IS a need to vent; there’s just no need to do so publicly. Your feelings are your feelings; they are valid. How you choose to handle them has consequences.

If there’s any feedback, step away for a few days, and then re-visit it with a more objective sensibility. What can you learn from this? How can you apply it positively moving forward?

There are certain publishers and/or organizations that are not a right fit. Just “getting published” isn’t enough. It has to be a place where you have a positive working relationship and both the writer’s and the publisher’s needs and goals are met. Sometimes what starts out as a promising relationship deteriorates. It’s not that one side is “better” or “right” — it’s simply that the needs of both parties aren’t being met, and it’s time to part ways (hopefully amicably), so you can both move on to a better situation. That’s true in any job situation.

I think it’s often harder for artists to deal with failure because what we do is so personal, so much a part of ourselves. It’s difficult not to feel that it’s a rejection of us as human beings.

If something we wrote doesn’t sell well or sell at all, we feel we failed. After a period of time, we can look back. Could it have been structured better? Used stronger language? Have you learned something in the interim that makes it work now? If it’s a sales number, what can you learn from that book’s campaign that you can apply to future promotions? We are pushed to think in terms of immediate large sales numbers, instead of a steadily growing readership. There are plenty of books I’ve read with huge opening sales numbers — and I’ve never read anything by that author again either because I didn’t like the book or because the author never managed to get anything else done, feeling the pressure.

But there are a lot of competing needs and agendas out there, and we’re not all compatible.

When it comes to finding the right agent or publisher, I often compare it to dating — it’s unlikely you’ll find your soul mate the first time out. You need to meet a lot of people and date around. Finding the soul mate for your work is similar.

There’s no need to dramatize or villainize if something doesn’t work out (although, in the first flush of hurt and disappointment, we will). Happy yippy platitudes too soon to the hurt are counterproductive. But then, take a step back, look at the positives, and apply what you learn moving forward.

As a teacher, that’s the most infuriating aspect. When a student REFUSES to apply a correction moving forward. We all start somewhere. We all have things we need to learn. When something is explained (such as the difference between a possessive and a plural) — learn it. APPLY IT MOVING FORWARD. Don’t keep making the same mistakes over and over again and expect someone else to fix it.

The only true failure is REFUSING to learn from something that didn’t work and refusing to apply it moving forward.

Most other situations are disappointments or setbacks that can be overcome.

–Acknowledge

–Create objectivity

–Learn

–Apply

And then go on to create something wonderful!

Fri. Dec. 20, 2013: Solstice Blessings

Friday, December 20, 2013
Waning Moon
Jupiter Retrograde
Sunny and mild

Busy day yesterday, working on the novella and a couple of scripts. Got some reading/research done, client negotiations, grocery shopping, and finalizing the insurance switch. This insurance plan will serve me much better than the previous one.

Have to finish decorating the house for the holidays — I’m behind on EVERYTHING. I’ve done some ecards, but the bulk of the cards will be for the New Year rather than Christmas/Yule.

The NMLC got a grant to partner with me on the play. So that’s two yeses on grants for this project, one no, and one from whom I’ve yet to hear. Looks like it will be happening. Now I have to write the darned play! 😉

This morning, had to be out of the house early to take my mom for her bloodwork, and then head further into Falmouth to the Credit union, picked up a few things on the way back, and hit the library. We are so blessed to have such wonderful, vibrant libraries on the Cape.

Looking forward to the Solstice tomorrow, and having a thoughtful, creative weekend.

Devon

Thurs. Sept. 12, 2013: Yes, There is Such a Thing as a Stupid Question

Thursday, Sept. 12, 2013
Waxing Moon
Sunny and warm

Yesterday was a tough day. Painful. Best I could do was to stay quiet. My heart is still sore today.

It was, however, a good writing day. I got big chunks of projects B & C done — probably close to 6K. Project C is written too lean at this point — I’m trying to get plot, character, images down. I have to layer in sensory detail, because my primary protag relies on his senses and those details will make this piece unique and immediate.

Tried to read a book yesterday — premise was terrific, setting was superb, and the writing was so weak that I was frustrated. It had all the elements, and the writer didn’t have the skills to pull it off. Disappointing.

Had a grant meeting in the evening. Quick and nothing I didn’t already know. Always amazes me when people ask stupid questions that are answered in the packet. If you can’t count six weeks from the date of application, and don’t understand the concept of “six weeks”, maybe you’re not qualified to apply until you gain some cognitive skills.

I have an early morning meeting today, so I’m going to try to knock out 1K and then head out.

Onward!

Devon

Tues. Sept. 3, 2013: Hellish Weekend & Jeremy Renner Saves This Writer’s Bacon in a Dream

Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Waning Moon
Sunny and humid

A Hell of a weekend. A good lesson in not letting the b.s. get you down.

Friday, I had a fairly light workday. I was waiting for what I’d been assured was good news on a big contract that would take up most of my time in the upcoming months. I was clearing things off my desk, preparing to actually HAVE a holiday weekend.

A little after 5 PM, the news came — I did not get that contract. I’ve been jerked around all summer with assurances about how much they love my work while they went and hired someone with no practical experience, no track record of meeting deadlines, but with more degrees.

To say I was devastated and heartbroken is an understatement. First of all, I am the best person for the job. Period. End of story. I have the skills, the creativity, the ability to meet deadlines; they even said my proposal was so perfect they didn’t need to change even a comma. Yet they gave the contract – -which means the MONEY — to someone who has no practical experience, but a string of letters after the name.

That throws the rest of my year out of whack — I’ve got to scramble financially and find work to replace this. It wasn’t something that could be layered onto anything else — it would need my full attention, so I held back on long-term projects that would conflict. That was MY stupidity, and I’m paying for it dearly now.

Hurt, angry, frantic. That was my Friday night.

I didn’t get any sleep. I was too upset. I couldn’t pretend it was okay, because it wasn’t okay, not on any level. And I will NEVER believe them again until the check has cleared – -this is a big name house with a solid reputation. The fact that they fucked me over in this way means my price just went WAAAAY up in anything related to them in the future. I already know the person who beat me out for the gig can’t meet the deadlines or deliver solid work — they’ll find it out. Cold comfort to me, who has to find a way to pay the bills over the next few months, but, ultimately, I have to trust that the universe will find a far more interesting way to sort this out than I ever could.

Also, pretending it doesn’t bother me when it does would just make me sick. And I’m angry at myself for trusting them — although I trusted the person who set me up with them in the first place, because that’s what she’s paid to do. Don’t bullshit me with the talk of future projects. I need something NOW.

I was up before 5 AM on Saturday, and between 6:30 in the morning and about 4 in the afternoon, I wrote another book proposal and sample chapters. This is a book that I want to write, a book I’ve wanted to write for awhile, but was put aside for the moment when this other project came up. So I sat down and powered through it.

I was exhausted by the end of the day, but happy with it. It’s something I know well, something about which I love to write, and very practical.

I could have spent the weekend wallowing in my anger and self-pity, but I decided to take the frantic momentum and turn it around. I wrote something important to ME, something I want to do, and that also has huge market potential, so it has the best of both worlds, for the right partner.

I put it aside on Sunday, and made some notes on an idea I’ve been playing with for awhile. An idea that is FAR out of my wheelhouse, a huge stretch/leap for me in my work. But I’ve found the voice and it feels right.

I did 994 words on it Monday morning. I like where I’m going with it. It’s so far out of what I usually do, and in a POV I rarely use, but it’s working, and I love it.

And I pitched some article ideas — got to jump right back into the water, get back on the horse, all those cliches, right?

I had to stop then, because I had to drive Costume Imp back to Providence, so he could get his bus back to New York. The bus, was, of course, delayed, but I’m glad we got off Cape early, because by the time we returned, there were backups coming over both bridges that looked interminable. Plus, on the way home, we took a detour to Target.

Over the weekend, we gorged ourselves watching TORCHWOOD: MIRACLE DAY on demand. I can never get enough of John Barrowman and Eve Myles anyway, and their chemistry is terrific. But this show is one of the most terrifying, relevant, and best written shows I’ve ever seen. It was wonderful to be able to watch the entire season in just a couple of days.

NEWSROOM wasn’t on this Sunday, so I wound up watching the end of THE BOURNE LEGACY. I’ve seen bits and pieces over the past weeks, but still haven’t sat down and watched the whole thing from start to finish. I should — it’s got Jeremy Renner in it, and he’s one of my favorite actors. I liked his work well before HURT LOCKER and most people even knew who he was.

But anyway, note to self: don’t watch THE BOURNE LEGACY right before bedtime unless you want it to invade your dreams. Actually, it was the actor AS an actor, not as one of his characters who invaded my dreams. I dreamed that I wrote another show for the National Marine Life Center, but the actors didn’t show up for rehearsal, and I couldn’t find them for the performance. Which was sold out. For some reason, Jeremy Renner wandered past as I was running around looking for my actors, stepped in and cold-read all the roles in the entire script, bringing down the house.

Which he is totally talented enough to do, but since we’ve never worked together, I don’t know why he would! Even though it was a dream, I’m terribly grateful to him, and woke up with some solutions. I spent so many years working with actors, I don’t usually dream about them. Too much of a busman’s holiday. But if my subconscious wants to personify itself as Jeremy Renner, who am I to argue? 😉

I’m sure other people have dreams about Jeremy Renner in quite a different context!

Obviously, I’ve got some anxieties about remounting the play.

Upon coming back home yesterday, another idea blazed across the brain (because Ideas come in batches, always). I wrote an outline, and this morning wrote 4707 words (18 pages) of this project.

So, I’ve got two priority projects to juggle, plus the fantasy trilogy, plus getting the play up again, plus finding enough work to pay the bills for the next few months.

Which means I better get back to it, huh? I’ve got two book reviews to finish today, some contracts to resend, work on the play, work on the grant for the next play, invoicing for previous articles, and a final polish on the proposal I wrote on Saturday (that I still love) that I intend to have on my agent’s desk by the end of the day.

Power on.

Devon

Friday, October 30, 2009

Friday, October 30, 2009
Waxing Moon
Neptune Retrograde
Uranus Retrograde
Cloudy and cold

Important: If you get an email supposedly from me that has nothing in the subject line or just “Re:” and blank, don’t open it. I received an email this morning supposedly from my publisher with such a header. I opened it, saw a “prayer” — which is not something she’d send me — and then the line “there’s a virus in this message.” I deleted mine immediately — Macs don’t get viruses, so I’m not all that worried. But in case it somehow grabbed my address book and sent out reproductions, be aware.

Really struggled with the writing yesterday. Part of it was because I didn’t feel like it. Part of it was the noise problem. Part of it was that I was simply struggling. Oh, well.

I need to get over my worries about the grant proposals and just print them and get them out. Either I get them or I don’t. There’s no middle ground. But there’s absolutely nothing if I don’t at least try. I feel the playwrighting grant is solid. I’m waffling on the sample choices for the fiction.

Thanks for all the happy birthday wishes for my mom. She had a great day and thanks all of you. And invites you to come visit once we have the house on the Cape.

Was offered a gig for which I’m totally wrong, so I’m putting together a list of recommendations for the potential employer of really great people.

A few days ago, a friend sent me a submission call for a steampunk anthology. It sounded really interesting, the deadline’s not until April, it’s only 25K. Yesterday afternoon, the characters and the basic story came to me, so I jotted them down. I have to clear off “The Misappropriation of Talent”, “Lake Justice”, another 2500 word piece and the Christmas story before I can start it, but at least I can outline over the next couple of weeks. Steampunk is right up my ally, melding history and fantasy and wild west! I get to pull out all my research on steam trains — yippee!

So that has to be slotted in to next year’s roster. Depending on which grants or residencies come through or don’t come through, that roster may need to change. Plus, I have to keep up the deadlined, contracted stuff.

Sorted all the little post-its for 2010 and got them into the actual calendar. I have to confirm one more set of dates, and then I can start looking at where I need to fill in and book some additional bits.

Worked on my presentation for Monday — I’m speaking at the place where I used to attend middle school! And I’ve been invited to a local Election Night party, since we’re having some local elections and some of my friends are running.

Had some questions regarding the grants, was pleased by the quick response, but the answers didn’t really help. So I’m just interpreting as best I can and hoping for the best.

Working on my Christmas lists.

I’ve got a neighbor who lost her job a few months ago and has been really struggling. She had a hard time holding a job before the recession. She loves being a victim. I try not to engage too much, because my philosophy is “if something in your life doesn’t work, change it. Own your life. Stop blaming everyone else.” Anyway, I found a great, legitimate site for jobs in the arts and sent her the link. If I was looking for a full-time gig, there are at least 3 dozen I’d go after on that one site. THREE DOZEN. All I got back was an argument about why the first job on the list was a stretch. Heck, if I only applied for jobs in which I felt comfortable, I’d never grow. If I like the organization, if it interests me, I create a pitch to show them that they can’t live without me. And it often works. Her attitude is just frustrating. But it’s her life, not mine, so all I can do is step back.

Anyway, I feel much better today — it was so nice to wake up and not feel like my head wanted to explode. I’m off to print the grant proposals, do the final polish on the paperwork, and finish both “The Misappropriation of Talent” and “Lake Justice.”

Better get going.

Devon