Sneak Peek: Aspirant and the ESCAPE! Anthology

Pre-orders of the Writing Bloc anthology are officially available now! As a treat, I’m offering my readers a sneak peek of my story, “Aspirant.”

Let me know what you think and make sure to reserve your copy before the price goes up January 1!

 

“Sister Trái đất thơm, will you create the Facebook page for our young retreatants?” Sister Yêu asked in her calm Vietnamese accent.

“Of course,” Sister Trái đất thơm said. She had received the name, which meant “Fragrant Earth” when she’d accepted the mindfulness trainings. The other sisters, mostly Vietnamese, had oohed and ahhed over her new name, but the young woman had been slightly disappointed. Her native language was English, and “fragrant” didn’t necessarily have good connotations. “Fragrant Earth” made her think of the landfill down the street from her family home in Victorville, a city of about 120,000 in what felt like the middle of nowhere, Southern California. The other sisters had gotten names that meant things like “Open Heart” and “Pure Soul.” She wasn’t sure why the Elder nuns thought she was some smelly dirt.

Sister Trái đất thơm looked around at the room full of young people, all ages 18-30, who had come for the monastery’s annual young adult retreat, and smiled back at their smiling faces. Even to these people, who had chosen to come to a five-day mindfulness retreat, she knew she was a freak—though she was 22, she was most certainly not one of them. They saw her as something cute and quaint—  like a little mouse— something to be taken care of and to gain wisdom from. Like a little Yoda or something. She knew. It was the same way she had seen the monastics when she’d first arrived.

“Thank you, Sister,” Sister Yêu bowed to her, then turned back to the retreat goers. “In this way, you will be able to remain connected to each other, and, we hope, to your practice. When you use Facebook, you will be able to take a mindful breath and say to yourself, ‘My dear, breathe. You are online.” Sister Trái đất thơm smiled slightly, remembering how lame the mantra had sounded when she’d first heard it.

 

“Will you add me as a friend?” Aaron asked. He was tan and muscular and his scent was oddly familiar and attractive. Though he was from San Diego, he felt very East Coast to Sister Trái đất thơm— no-nonsense, tough but kind, a dry sense of humor.

“I will,” Sister Trái đất thơm said and smiled. She reached a hand up to feel her bald head, then recentered herself in the moment, noticing her feelings. She was attracted to Aaron— she had been all week. She could imagine his arms around her. He was so genuinely interested in what she had to say. She realized she was flirting—  something she hadn’t done since she’d begun the ordination process six months ago by submitting her letter of intent.

The feelings of guilt, of shame, swept over her immediately. “This is how you ended up getting raped,” she heard a small familiar voice in her head say. She was proud that a louder voice—  the one she had been nurturing since she’d come to the monastery said, “It’s just a thought, Julie. Thoughts aren’t facts. You’re thinking.”

Aaron smiled at her. “Awesome!” he said. “I’ll look forward to it.” He paused and laughed. “I mean, I’ll do my best to be in the present moment. But I’ll be happy when you find me!”

Sister Trái đất thơm laughed too. He saw her as a person, not some sage. He could tell she was a regular person who had just decided to come here and do this. Maybe he could imagine her with hair.

ESCAPE! Anthology Cover Reveal and ARC Giveaway

The Writing Bloc short story anthology is almost here! Twenty authors have come together to challenge the norms of indie publishing. We’ve worked together to write, edit, and design a fantastic collection that features science fiction, fantasy, Westerns, and contemporary fiction.

The anthology’s theme is “Escape” and founder Michael Haase says, “As readers, we open books ready to be swept out of our seats and deposited in a world entirely new and exciting. Reading is an escape from our normal lives and thoughts.”

My story is about a woman who has joined a Zen monastery to escape a history of sexual trauma. When she develops a crush on an attendee at the monastery’s young adult retreat, she soon becomes engrossed in social media getting to know him. Was her choice to join the monastery just an attempt at an easy out from her trauma? Is Facebook a distraction from her journey toward healing or an escape from the rigors of monastic life? Will she stay or will she go?

I’m so honored to be published alongside authors like Tahani Nelson, Jason Pomerance, and Patrick Edwards.

Pre-orders will begin on Black Friday and the collection will be released on January 1.

Today you get to see the cover!

If you are a book reviewer or blogger, sign up for one of the 100 free Advanced Reader Copies here!

There Might Be More Than One Vomit Draft (And Other Lessons From Editing A Book)

I am about to embark on the 5th draft of my novel. Before beginning this process, I don’t think this statement would have necessarily surprised me, but I didn’t fully understand it either. “Of course you go through several drafts,” I may have thought. “You find new mistakes each time.” What I didn’t realize yet is that each draft serves a different purpose– is really almost a different book.

The Vomit Pass

My first draft was my “vomit pass.” Touted by folks like Judd Apatow and Lena Dunham, and encouraged by the structure of marathon writing programs like NaNoWriMo, this is the idea that you just have to get the words down. They don’t have to be good. They don’t even have to make sense. You just have to suppress the urge to edit as you go and get a lot of words on the page. For Rock of Ages, this was about 50,000 words of stream of consciousness writing. I got out stories from my own life as well as some based on family stories and my dad’s poetry. It was definitely a mess, definitely not cohesive, but I still think there were some gems in it. There was emotion in it and it was honest.

Finding a Story

Years later I came back to this jumbled mess and decided to make something of it. I laid each of the stories out on an index card and moved them around until they were in an order that made sense. I filled things in to make a plot–  a string that tied one story to the another. At this point I was pretty convinced I was a genius. When I read authors talk about how bad their early drafts were, I thought I was one of those rare writers with extraordinary natural talent. This book would be a classic, I thought, and I’d already done most of the work on it.

Fixing it Up

Now sufficiently confident, I sent my book out to some beta readers, who responded well. Bolstered by their approval, after another long break (to have some babies), I started doing some line editing. I changed sentences to make them read better and fixed some spelling mistakes. This round was easier, but much less exciting. This is the draft I sent to Inkshares.

The Developmental Rewrite (Vomit Pass Take Two)

My editor had a lot of suggestions, and surprisingly, in spite of my previous big headedness, I was extremely excited about all of them. We worked together to rework the book’s outline, taking out some superfluous plot lines and fleshing out the important stories and characters. I worked ridiculously hard for three months rewriting the book based on this outline, adding description, researching time periods and places. I ended up with a new draft that was almost 40,000 words longer than the one I had sent in. I felt like a badass. Now this was the big hurdle on my way to a finished book, I thought, and I had rocked it. I knew there would be more changes. Maybe I’d have to rewrite a few chapters, hone my prose some more.

So when I talked to my editor a couple days ago and he referenced this as my “vomit draft” my heart sunk for a moment. I had done a vomit draft! Three drafts ago.

I realized though, that in an intensive edit like this, there might be more than one vomit draft. Any time you change so much of the outline, you’ll have to have a round of just getting the words out there.

The Old POV Switcharoo

So now I’m back to step two again– improving the vomit draft. I’m switching from first to third person. I’m overwhelmed by this huge task, but not upset about it. I needed to use first person to get into my characters’ heads and write them authentically and now I need to use third person to improve the prose. I’ll be working on my descriptions, on making them even more authentic for their time periods. I’ll be working to make my book very literary– not just the meanings of the words but the words themselves, their sounds, will invoke the feelings I want to convey. I’m taking it all to another level.

My editor was reassuring when we spoke about this next step. He did the same with his book, he told me, as did other big books he’s worked on. “This is just the process,” he told me.

It’s overwhelming. It’s exhausting. It’s frustrating.

But it’s also incredibly exciting. I’ve seen leaps in my goals along with the leaps in my writing. A few months ago I just wanted to be published. I wanted a few people to read my writing and relate to it. Now I know I can make something really, really special.

With each draft, my imposter syndrome diminishes. I am putting in the work. This process has also shown me the importance of having an editor, and a good one.

If you’re on the fence about hiring someone for a developmental edit of your book, do it.

If you’re in the middle of rounds and rounds of edits, keep it up! The work you are putting in is important and meaningful. It will be worth it.

If you’ve gone through edits like this and come out with a finished book, TELL ME ABOUT IT! Send me motivational quotes! Send me book links!

 

Before and After: Developmental Edits

Before funding Rock of Ages, I was mostly ignorant of the editing process a book goes through before reaching shelves. When I thought of editing I thought of line editing and copyediting– going line by line marking misspellings and grammar mistakes, maybe providing some insight about characters and plots in a note at the end, but mostly correcting mistakes. There’s a whole other step, I learned quickly. The developmental edit.

This broad level edit looks at the story as a whole, making suggestions sometimes as sweeping as dropping or adding characters and chapters or whole subplots. Settings change, sometimes tense and point of view.

My own developmental edit letter was thrilling, which is not how I expected it to feel. In spite of huge suggestions (work really hard on my descriptive prose, drop several subplots, change the setting for parts of my story, age down my characters, etc.), I was so excited about my editor’s vision and could really tell they would improve my book immensely.

It’s been a challenge explaining to my supporters how I can be making such huge changes to the manuscript while still delivering them the book they signed up for. So here’s a before and after example that I hope will make this a little clearer, as well as provide authors who are nervous about their developmental edit some assurance that though it is a lot of work, your book will still be your own, just better!

A warning that there are some minor spoilers for Rock of Ages below, but none that should greatly affect your reading of the book.

Before:

“Becca,” Simon said, turning his gaze back to me.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too. Thank you for always being there for me. I really needed this.”
“I’m…in love with you,”  he said, hugging his the sleeves of his red flannel shirt, too warm for the 80 degree weather. “I always have been.”
“Simon,” I started.
“I would be so good to you,” he said.
“I know,” I said. We were silent. We looked at our drinks, Simon’s almost gone and mine still full.

After:

“Cass,” Simon started, and then pushed himself up to seated, staring over at the far bank, thoughtful. I watched him, lifting one arm to shield my face from the sun, which had emerged from behind a fluffy cumulous cloud.
Simon sighed.
Is he going to lecture me? I wondered. It didn’t seem like him, but I had no idea what else he could be saying.
“Cass, I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” he finally blurted. I propped myself on my elbows and let him continue.
“I know this probably isn’t the time to tell you this. I know.”
I sat up all the way now, listening.
“Cass, I would be so good to you,” he finished.
“Simon,” I started, not sure how to respond. I had never even felt a hint of romance with Simon. We had always been more like siblings than anything else, but here with him now, hearing this, I noticed for the first time how handsome he was. How he had lost the chubby cheeks that had made him look so much younger than he was for so long and was now lean and muscular from working in the gardens. I thought about his compassion and loyalty, caring for his family, how steadfast and dependable he had always been. He was so familiar, so safe, but at the same time there was something new and intriguing about him. He had changed since I’d been here last— he was more confident and determined, and I had to admit when I tried to see him from an outsider’s eyes, from the point of view of someone who was just meeting him now, for the first time, he was attractive, all of those things together were attractive.
You should kiss him, I told myself. And I almost did it. I almost leaned in and kissed him. It would have been like a movie— I could see it playing in my mind.
“Simon,” I said again, and his face perked, reminding me of a puppy. But that was it— I couldn’t see him from an outsider’s perspective. He would always be the kid I grew up with, regardless of who he was now. And he was always a part of here, of Buckhannon. And the weight of Buckhannon, of all of it, of my dad and my grandma and my mom’s dumb marriage, how she said she never loved my dad, and the drownings and the mine disaster and the little girl at the health clinic and the mom at Wal-Mart and Simon’s mom and brother and my fight with Tim and just all of it. Buckhannon was more than a place now— it was a weight, pressing down on me with all the heaviness of all of those awful things. And I wasn’t really sure, like Grandma had insisted I needed to be. And if I wasn’t really sure, if I didn’t get out now, I knew I never would. I thought of my job at Pow!, of LA, of good vegan food and blending into a crowd. I had a week left of family leave before I would have to tell Karen I wasn’t coming back to the office.
“I’m sorry, Simon,” I said, my face crumpling. “I think I have to go back to LA.”
His face mirrored mine, his eyes creasing at the corners and his lips turning down, but he nodded, holding his tears at bay, and lay back down on the rock. I lay next to him and grabbed his hand. Together, we watched the clouds for a long, long time.

 

In the first excerpt, I relied on the dialogue to convey all the things I said explicitly in the second excerpt. There are changes to the setting, additional descriptive prose, and more developed characters. You’ll also notice that I had to rewrite the passage mostly from scratch, but I hope this example shows how I can be rewriting most of the book while still keeping the heart of it! If you’re nervous about a developmental edit, I hope this makes you more excited! If your editor is good, you’re in for a lot of work but a book that is still yours, just a lot better!

Have any of your projects gone through a developmental edit? What was the process like for you?

Blurring the Lines Between Self-Publishing and Traditional Publishing

 

I spoke recently on a panel on “The Art of Publishing” alongside a self-published author, an author with books both traditionally and self-published, the editor of a weekly newspaper, and the owner of a small press. More than anything, this conversation led me to consider the labels we use when discussing different means of publication. A vast amount of information is available on “traditional publishing vs. self-publishing.” You can consider the pros and cons of each, their histories, statistics, and anything else you could possibly want to know to help you decide which road to go down. I certainly imagined myself standing at a forked path with manuscript in hand while I was obsessively pouring over those sites.

What these blogs and Facebook posts don’t convey is that these are not the only two publishing routes that exist, and that increasingly, the other options are blurring the boundaries between what seemed like two distinct choices.

Traditional publishing used to just be “publishing.” There were a limited number of people in the world who had access to the physical resources needed to print and distribute a book. If you wanted to publish your writing, they acted as the gatekeepers. Of course people have hand-written and distributed writing for a long time, but publishing houses, with Richard Hoe’s patent of the first rotary press in 1846, could circulate paperbacks, introduced to the United States only one year earlier, widely.

Technology– accessible word processors, printers, computers, the Internet—made it possible for a vast number of people to create, replicate, and distribute their work on a broad scale. The self-publishing/ traditional publishing dichotomy was born. Large publishers were no longer required in order to access these tools, and their role changed to that of a content filter and voucher. They came to be seen as quality control—a way to sort through the enormous sea of work that was now available around the world.

But there is more good work out there than the Big Five publishers can publish. Small publishers began challenging that monopoly and filling some of that gap. Even with the numerous small presses that now exist, there is still more great writing, and potentially great writing, than they can manage. Publication sometimes relies on politics—who you know, how much money and access you already have, etc., as a filter because publishers are humans and humans can only read, edit, design, market, and distribute so much. But anyone has access to these tools. People can publish their work themselves. And a lot of it is good! What challenges outdated ideas about the connection between publishing and quality even further is that increasingly folks are choosing to publish their work independently not as a compromise or act of settling, but intentionally. There are a number of reasons some prefer to publish books themselves, including viewing it as a middle finger to the politics and gatekeeping of traditional publishing.

So publishing is no longer necessarily about who can physically publish and distribute a book. And it’s no longer necessarily an indicator of quality. Where does that leave us?

With choices! Here we are again at that fork– You can pursue traditional publishing with a large house or small press or you can publish your book yourself. But there are choices now that blur the line between these two. My first novel, Rock of Ages, is in production with Inkshares, a crowdfunding platform for books. In this model, authors who secure 750 preorders within a set timeframe receive publishing services from the company including cover design, developmental and copyediting, marketing and distribution. Crowdfunding puts the key to that golden gate in the hands of authors. Instead of standing like a sentinel in front of the opening, platforms like Inkshares step aside and ask “Can you reach high enough to unlock the gate yourself?”

The new venture Writing Bloc is taking on, the cooperative publishing model, is taking that a step further. We’re working as a team to write, edit, design, market, and distribute our own work. Like self-publishing, we’re eschewing the need for someone to do it all for us. Instead we’re utilizing the expertise and work ethic of our group as a unit to publish our own quality content. We are taking ownership of the gate and everything inside. But at what point does this kind of venture become more like traditional publishing than self-publishing? After all, we are developing contracts, establishing content guidelines, and hopefully will eventually be distributing royalties. As Robert Batten writes, “publishers are people.” Batten is emphasizing that in order to get in with the company, The Entity, you must first win over the people who make up that entity, but remembering that publishers are people also challenges their hegemonic power.  Publishing houses are not gods. They no longer have a monopoly on resources and they’ve never had a monopoly on quality. They are groups of people who remain the gatekeepers simply because they’ve appointed themselves such and we’ve continued to go along with it.  So does it matter when we cross that line when the line is increasingly arbitrary?

What it boils down to is that the labels are becoming irrelevant. I made a comment on the panel that had all of the participants nodding. One of the amazing advantages of having access to many means of publishing means that you don’t have to write to a target audience if you don’t want to. You can write the book that you want to write—the story that needs to be written—and then find your target audience. When you put your book out into the world you want editing, design, marketing, and the validation that comes from people enjoying your work. Increasingly, those are at our fingertips in a number of innovative configurations. You may not have an audience of tens of thousands. But amongst the billions of people in the world, you probably have an audience of at least hundreds. What is important is creating exceptional books and getting them into the hands of people who will find meaning and value in them, however we do that.