Getting out there.

It's interesting to watch other authors, who are more or less my peers, and see how they handle themselves.

One thing is for damn sure. Most of them are considerably more active in promoting themselves and their books, both online and in person.

Some of them are extreme extroverts, dressing up, acting out, engaging and arguing and posting and showing up at every conceivable event.  This is not to criticize them.  In fact, the opposite.  More power to them!  I can see how that might work.

Actually, I can see how that might be the only thing that works.

Ah, well.  I need to just keep writing my books. That takes all the energy I got.

Never mind the bollocks.

Or in this case, the birthday.

Too late to change the title of my blog.  I started this blog 8 years ago this coming November, (another significant anniversary.)  Haven't missed a day of posting since.  I don't edit myself a whole lot, I just let the bollocks out.

I'd been using the joke in the title for years before that, when I was solidly middle-aged.

I'm not minimum wage anymore, nor am I perhaps technically middle-aged (I qualify for S.S. as of today), nor are most of my entries about the store.

But, hey, if I'm talking about writing, I'm still that 32 year old (heading into 'middle age') who quit writing who's taking up writing again, and who's new 'job' is definitely paying 'minimum wage'.  (Actually, not even close, if you take the hours into account.)

You know what makes me notice age?  My poor cat Panga is really struggling to move around.  I remember her being a cute little kitten not so long ago.  From kitten to crotchety in a flash.

Just like life.

Waiting for a breakthrough.

The plot isn't going where I expected.  Usually, that's a good thing.  Plots that are too easy or too foreordained, also tend to be predictable.

So I'm fine with it.  It comes with the new characters.

I'm having to change some of the relationships and some of the personalities so that they all fit in.  Also a good thing. 

But I do seem to be struggling with my writing right now, which hasn't been my usual experience over the last couple of years.  I'd wonder if my creative surge is coming to an end except that Tuskers I and II came so quickly and easily.

The only thing I can think to do is keep making the time, try to coax the ideas and words, and just hang in there.

I've having some 1000 word days, which are a struggle, instead of 2000 word days where I'm purposely holding myself back.

Is it because the book isn't going where it's supposed to go?

I don't see how, since I'm not sure where the book is going.  Maybe that's it.  I don't know.

Going to cloister myself again, and hope for a breakthrough.

Cloistered.

I cloistered myself yesterday.  Took my shower, got dressed, and got to work.  Pretty much shut myself in my darkened bedroom with my laptop and waited for the words.  It took all day, but I got there.

The focus was on the book.  Make the book good.  Don't worry about deadlines, don't worry about the finished product, just engage in the process.

A couple of things happened, which I'll talk about in more detail in a couple of other posts today.

One was, I realized that I pretty much take procrastination into account when I do this.  It doesn't take all day to write 2000 words.  Most of the day is spent waiting around.

The other thing was, after taking a nap, a couple of characters came to me that were full developed in conception.  Two characters I really liked.  The only real question was -- could the book handle two more characters?

I decided it could, barely.  At any rate, I like these two new characters too much not to use them.

So I didn't go for a walk yesterday, but I nevertheless woke up at 4:00 in the morning with a sore knee.  What???  I think, sometimes, my joints just snap wrong or something.  Took an Aleve and it feels okay this morning, just a little sore.

Also almost got sick to my stomach, and almost passed out from lightheadedness.  This comes from low blood pressure if I get up too quickly.  I'd intended to drink some wine last night, but once again I didn't do it, thank goodness.  That seems to be my regular thing now.  I just don't drink.  Not a conscious decision, just a slow devolution.

Going to cloister myself today again, and the next day, and the next.

I do owe Linda some book filing time.  She needs my help and I sort of enjoy doing it.

But writing first.

Pep-talk.

I've spent too much time on the internet.  I've let other things distract me.  I've let the writing slide.  I haven't cleared my mind, or my time, or my space the way I need to.

I've been comparing myself to other writers too much.

I've been waiting for confirmation from publishers.

I've been second-guessing, overthinking, and doubting myself.

It is time to get back to writing, where the writing is the focus and to hell with everything else.

So that is what I'm going to do.  I'm clearing away the rest of this month to do nothing but writing.  

Cool.  I think I'm ready for it.

Writing is #1...and #2...and #3....

Still in limbo.

Taxes are due and they are going to cost me.  The store has been slow for a few days, just when I could use a boost.  (Maddeningly, the new Magic release isn't selling. Why?  What happened?  Argghhh.)

Stock market is dropping.

Anyway, yesterday I just gave up.  I worked at the store.  (Sold 2 books, though I hadn't intended to try).  No dieting, didn't go for a walk, didn't write. Just in a fuck it, what does it matter mood.

I had planned to really get rolling on Tuskers III in October, but I made the mistake of carrying on my dieting and exercise program, and I had my taxes still to do, and I was planning a trip to eastern Oregon later in the month to follow the Meek's Cutoff.

All of it was distracting.

Here's the little secret about my writing so much.  I'm writing so much because that's what I do.  It is #1 on my list of things to do, and #2, and #3.

Unless everything else is cleared away, it doesn't happen.

So that's what I'm doing, as of today.  Everything gets shoved to the side.  Pay the taxes out of savings and fuck it.  Let the store do what the store does.  Drop the dieting and exercise. (I might go for walks for inspirational purposes.) Delay the eastern Oregon trip until spring.

Put writing #1, #2, and #3...and #4.

Make it my total and complete focus.

Pardon me while I live in my Wild Pig Apocalypse for awhile.

  

Thought experiment. Writing without the Internet.

I did a little mind experiment yesterday, to deal with my impatience over the slow pace of everything outside my own writing: the editing, the submitting, the paying, the publishing.

What would my writing career be like without the Internet?

Pretty awful.

I'd no doubt still be sending off physical excerpts of my books to agents, who would no doubt still be sending back form rejections.  I'd probably have tried submitting to less agents at a time, because of the cost and time of mailing.  So I'd probably still be submitting the original effort.

Or maybe I'd have moved on to trying a second excerpt.

And even if I was accepted, which doesn't seem likely based on what has happened so far, I'd then have to go through the same process with a publisher.

I'd probably have have written no more than a couple of books by now.  And I would no doubt have only written the first book in each trilogy, because what would be the point of writing further?

So I'd be sitting here for a couple of years with extremely limited and probably negative feedback.  I'd have spent far less time writing and learning and hoping.

Frankly, I'd probably have quit.

Meanwhile, when doing this thought experiment, I can't help but think about Linda and how grateful I am to how she responds to my writing.

She is totally supportive.  She says she really "likes" my writing and I believe her.  While she may have constructive criticism, she seems to think I'm a "good" writer.

I don't know.  Maybe that support would have been enough to endure the waiting and rejection.  That and the fact that I pretty much enjoy writing, coming up with a story, living with my characters.

Reading my work in writer's group might also have been enough feedback to keep me going for awhile.

But no matter how supportive Linda is, and no matter how much I like writing, I'm not sure I could have continued without seeing something I wrote in print -- whether as an e-book, or as a physical book.

So what the Internet has done is released my creativity in an enormously constructive way.  I can write as fast and as much as I want, and know that -- in the end -- it will be somewhere online and that a few people, here or there, might actually stumble across it and read it.

And that makes all the difference.

Sales graph at Pegasus Books has been a perfect V.

The sales graph at Pegasus Books over the last seven years has been an almost perfect V shape.

The high was in 2007.

It dropped 15% in 2008.

It dropped 11% in 2009.

It dropped 6% in 2010.

That was the low point.

It then rose 5% in 2011.

It rose 12% in 2012.

It rose 4% in 2013.

And it looks like it will rise about 6% in 2014.  

I will be very, very close to the high I reached in 2007.  It's not quite a perfect V.  It went down for three years, and it has taken 4 years to get back up to the previous level.

But amazingly close.

Also proof, as far as I'm concerned, that it wasn't the store, but the overall economy that caused the V.

The overall drop was about 28%.  I thought it might drop as much as 40%.  My worst case survival scenario was it would drop 50%.  (Worst case -- living in a cave, eating mice.)

If I hadn't added books and boardgames, that might have happened.  Because I was adding inventory, and thus sales, the drop wasn't quite as bad as it could have been.  But by adding inventory, it probably cut our profit margins substantially.  Still, the product lines are established, and I'm starting to see the benefits of that now.

I predicted, based on my research of previous bubble collapses, that it would take seven years.  I nailed it.

Within that time span, there were more severe drops. If you take mid-way between 2007 and midway 2008, it was probably a much bigger decline to kick the whole thing off.   So the year totals obscure the true magnitude of the decline.

We did fine.  I adjusted my ordering accordingly, I had eliminated debt, built up a small cash cushion, like I said, added new revenue producing product, and worked the store by myself for a year to keep down expenses.

I will give myself total credit for seeing the bubble for what it was, and responding appropriately, for planning, and for forecasting what would happen.  I was very careful not to add to overhead in the years preceding the crash.  No loans, no capital improvements, no adding to costs that I couldn't cut if I had to.

Despite all the doubters at the time.

I should add for the sake of those who don't live in Bend and didn't see such precipitous declines, that Bend probably had it as bad as anyone in the country.  We were a bubble within a bubble.  I wouldn't be surprised if we were in the top 10 declines, just as we were in the top 10 rises at the time of the bubble.

Just saying.

Superhero shows...nothing to do with comics, of course.

I extended my deadline for Tuskers III to a more realistic level, and then took the day off yesterday.  I also pushed back my trip to Baker City to follow the Meek's Cutoff trail until spring, because I'm not ready to write the third Virginia Reed adventure yet.

I also decided I was tired of walking in the heat and would skip a day.

So other than doing a few errands yesterday, I was pretty useless.

Then, just as it was falling dark, I decided to try to get in as much walking as I could.  I jetted out to the Horse Ridge trail, thinking I could follow the flatland part of it for a mile or two before it got dark.  Well, I got in only a mile or so before it got too dark.  I thought the full moon would be enough light to see, but the problem is -- in the desert, everything looks like a trail.

So I went out to the old highway and just started walking.

It was great.  Very refreshing.  75 degrees, completely and utterly silent, and plenty of moonlight.  There is something really peaceful about the darkness.  ("Hello darkness my old friend...")  Just followed my moon shadow, and the white stripes, and didn't see a car for nearly 2 hours.  Because it was a paved surface, I went 5 miles this time.

I'm going to spend more time at Linda's store today putting books away, see if I can't get my paces in that way.

We watched 3 superhero shows in a row last night.  Never thought that would happen.  Not only that, but all three were competently done.

Flash was pretty good.  The main character can act, even if he is a little too emo for me.  (Why are superheroes so emo these days?)

Then watched Agents of Shield.  This seems to be getting lots of criticism, mostly disappointment from the fans, I think, but I rather like it. 

Then another episode of Gotham, also very well done. 

Who would have ever thought?

Of course, it has nothing to do with actual comics...

By that, I mean, it's pretty basic stuff.  Comics have much more depth, in most cases.  And neither T.V. shows or movies seem to move the needle much on sales of comics.

I keep coming back to "They can't hurt" in their effect.  But sadly, I don't know that they help all that much either.

It's a weird disconnect.

The best way I've ever heard it explained is this.  "When you came out of The Unforgiven, was your first impulse to go buy a western novel?"

Like I said, anything that gives our industry credibility is good...lays the groundwork for possible future customers.  Someday, maybe there will be a trigger.

Werewolves...a true story.

One of the more unexpected questions I get about my book, Led to the Slaughter: The Donner Party Werewolves, is:  "Is it a true story?"

The first couple of times it happened, I laughed and said, "It's all fiction...except for the werewolves."

But...I've been thinking that's kind of strange.  Because they are serious when they ask it.  Totally serious.

I mean, does their world view -- their factual view of the world -- include werewolves?

Today, I think I may have finally figured it out. 

I think, they think, that I think, werewolves are true.  You know, like believing that aliens built the Pyramids, or something. 

It's still funny, but maybe not quite as strange as I thought.  I suppose there might be people out there who truly believe in vampires and werewolves. 

Funny thing is, I'm pretty sure none of the writers who write horror believe in them. 

Taxes. Say what?

My tax bill was way bigger than I expected.  Much bigger.

"Where's the money?" I asked.  "I don't understand how that's possible."

"Everyone says that," Gary says.  "Hey, look at the bright side.  It will make your Social Security payout bigger..."

I'll have to pull money out of retirement savings.  I swear, no matter what I do, I can't seem to add to what's there.

"At least it's there," says Linda.

So here's my brightside take on it.  At least the store is showing it can provide a 'living wage' if I ever want to sell it.  Especially considering the amount of time I take off.  So...

Nothing I can do about it.  I owe the money.

We had a discussion about whether I should include my writing expenses or treat it as a hobby.  "You'll have a couple of years to prove that it isn't a hobby.  Frankly, most people hold off."

"Let's include it," I said, thereby probably proving that I'm as delusional as anyone.  What I'm saying here is that I have the faith that the revenues will be enough in the next couple of years to turn the "hobby" of writing into the "business" of writing.  That my income will exceed my outflow...




Went for my walk yesterday.  It seems like it's getting harder, not easier.  After a couple of weeks of walking, I felt so much better.  Now after five weeks of walking, I'm feeling tired.  I think it's because of the higher temperatures.  It seems to take it out of me.

I ate rice crackers again last night.  I'm scrupulous about calorie counts, but it seems like everytime I have a snack of any kind -- even if it is within the limits -- I don't lose weight.  So either the crackers have more calories than they're saying, or something else is going on.  Back to my four small meals a day...

I'm on track with my writing, but not feeling inspired.  I've decided not to write unless I feel some 'spark.'  I can put words down without the spark, and that can be okay sometimes, but not for most of the book.  For me, good news can be motivation.  Strangely, bad news is usually motivating.  No news, not so much.

Everything is in limbo.  Waiting.

Writing isn't for people who need instant gratification -- unless the writing itself does it.  Even then, it takes a huge effort to write an entire book and get the full measure of satisfaction.

Oh, well.  Stick to the program. Three years left on my pre-schedule.  When I step back, I realize I'm actually ahead of myself so far.

Carry on.

Being optimistic, not delusional.

Very often, people will say, "Hey, when you're a best-selling author I can say I knew you when!" or "Let me know when the movie is coming out!"

I know this is the conversational equivalent of "How ya doing?" Nevertheless I can't let it go unchallenged.

"That is extremely unlikely," I say.

The funny thing is, people seem to believe that I'm being pessimistic, or that I don't have confidence in myself.

To me, it's the opposite.

What I'm saying is -- even though I can clearly see that the odds of anything like that happening are extremely long, I am still willing to give it a go. I still think I have what it takes, with a little help and a little luck.

That to me that is optimism.  Knowing it probably won't happen, but trying anyway.

Thinking it is going to happen, without looking at it soberly, doesn't take much willpower or stamina or discipline.  It's just being delusional.

When you're delusional, you aren't seeing the world correctly. You're likely to make stupid mistakes, you're likely to overestimate your power and influence.

Worse, you'll probably give up when the world gives you something other than your delusion.

So I prefer to understand how the world really works, as best I can, and then say, "Fuck it, I'm going to try anyway."

You know, someone has to be the one that gets lucky. 

But I think it's important to recognize it as such.

You can skip this post.

Nothin' happening.

Went for my walk, and my favorite spot was taken.  I think the same couple, who seems to be there in the mornings.  I'll try the afternoons.

Perforce, I went to top of Horse Ridge again.  I like that walk.  There is something inspiring about walking along the rim of a cliff, something that lifts the heart.  But it is a short walk and very dusty. 

Wrote my 2 thousand words.  I've got the first half of Tuskers III mapped out.

I really want to take a leap in the second half of the book.  Conceptually.  Make it "post" apocalyptic instead of during the apocalypse.  Make it kind of weird tech, steampunky.

I think I may jump ahead a few years, bring in some new characters.  Try for a different feel.

Don't know why.  Just feels like the right thing to do.

Finished my taxes yesterday.  I shouldn't have tried to do it in one day because I started making big transcription mistakes.  Broke away and napped for an hour and came back and finished it.

Somehow I seem to have spent less on product and overhead.  My best results ever in profit margins, this in a year where we had increased sales.  So a successful year.

Means my tax bill will be bigger than I expected, bigger than I can afford, which will put the crimp on the rest of the year.

Why was last year better?

Because I wasn't there to get into mischief, for one thing.  I'm sure the smaller ordering was completely due to me not constantly filling holes. 

The increase in business despite spending less -- is due mostly to my guys, Cameron and Matt (and Jasper for part of the year.)  They are bright-eyed and bushy tailed.  Just what I need at this point in my life.  I was the frontman perhaps for too long.  It wore me down.

I was talking to my friend Wes about how so many writers my age seem jaded and cynical, and how I was feeling very enthusiastic about it.

"Yeah, but you spent 30 years in your business.  How do you feel about that?"

"Uh...slightly jaded and cynical."

Not as bad as all that.  I managed to keep reinventing the store.  There were a couple patches, about 10 years in when sports cards collapsed, and then when I was near the breaking point when the credit cards got out of control, and then I got on a high-horse for a few years about people "not reading!" when I was not as cheerful as I could be.  But for the last 8 years of so, I've been good.  I regained some of my freshness.

Then I started writing.  I really let most problems in the store go these days.  Let the store be the store.

It seems to be working.

%(&$(#! Taxes.

Drove to the top of Horse Ridge again yesterday, and this time walked in the other direction.  I tried to reach the end of Dry Canyon, but the slope above the very high cliffs got a little too steep for me and started to give me the willies.  When did I become such a wuss?

Anyway, it was a very pleasant walk, and I wrote my 2000 words, and all was good.  As I was walking along, I kept seeing flat stones.  I'm not sure if they are technically 'slate' but they had that look.  When I was halfway back, I came across a natural cairn that was just stacked with these stones.  I realized I was only 50 feet from the highway.  So I started carrying the rocks up to the fence and tossing them over.  Got about 30 of them.

Then walked back to the car and drove parallel to the deposit-point and loaded up the trunk.

Came home and made a very cool path in my garden.

I hope it is legal to take rocks from public land.  Gosh, I wouldn't want to take all of them.  I mean, what would hold everything up?  The trees might sink!  The cliffs might sag!  The sand might fall into a whirlpool!

I'm thinking about doing the same thing a few more times.

I've lost 16 pounds, but I was sweating profusely yesterday, so I'm figuring 2 of those pounds are water.  Plan to keep going with my diet for another couple of weeks.  I'm hoping to continue walking for the indefinite future.

My garden could be really cool if I just paid more attention to it.  Writing took over my life, but I'm also physically lazy, and maybe not the green thumb I'd like to be.  I think 'architecturally' when I garden, and the plants are part of the architecture.  I get so much done in just a few hours of gardening, that I realize I could really create something nice if I applied myself.

But I chose writing.  Writing, writing, writing.

Meanwhile, I can procrastinate on my taxes no longer.  Have an appointment with the accountant tomorrow morning.  I laid out all the paperwork last night (even that took a couple hours!).  I'm not quite so detail obsessive on my numbers as I once was.  For instance, while I have the daily totals on the register tapes and in my notebook, I've always written them in my Dome accounting book too.  I realized I don't really need to do that.  All that matters are the totals.  So I photo-copied the totals and put that in the notebook.  Saved a couple of hours, probably.

I'm hoping I can get my 2000 words in today, despite the taxes.  I'm going to head up to Horse Ridge again, but probably not try to grab any rocks.  I was pretty exhausted last night, and I need to save up some energy for taxes.

Fucking taxes.

Writing among the lava and junipers.

Yesterday, I drove to the top of Horse Ridge, where a monument sign overlooks Dry Canyon, and then walked along the rim. There isn't really a trail, but there were lots of other tracks so I'm not the only one who has found this spot.  Every few hundred yards, I stopped and wrote for awhile.  When it came time to walk back to the car, it turned out I'd gone a couple miles, so four miles altogether, much further than I expected.  Saw a bunny and a chipmonk and hawks.  I suppose if I want to see more than that, I need to quit talking to myself.

The ridge was very pleasant.  A gentle slope, spectacular views, interesting formations.  It had an almost spiritual quality.

I'm finding on my walks a kind of rough circle of beauty.

The closer, more accessible places, while technically in nature, seem scarred by humans.  Shotgun shells, dog poop, rusty cans.  Pretty disgraceful.  What the hell is wrong with some people?

Go out a little further, and evidence of humans starts to fade slightly, and yet it still feels somehow tarnished.  I'm still likely to run into other people.

Go out a little further than that and I get the sense of aloneness I crave, and the scenery is usually nicer.  It takes too much difficulty for most people to get there, so it is somewhat protected.

I can enhance this by going off the paths.  Wander away from the worn trails and strike off on my own.  I don't go so far that I could get lost, but far enough to make it extremely unlikely that I'll run into anyone else.

Here I get lost in my writing.

Finally got untracked yesterday on Tuskers III.  Wrote more than in the first 3 days combined, so I'm back on track.

I left the house early yesterday, determined to get into the story once and for all.  I wasn't going to come back home until I had a firm sense of it.  But once I started writing, it came to me pretty easy.

I think what happened is that I created a couple of characters I really liked, which led to other characters I liked, and then the connections between them.

This isn't turning out to be the mega-world spanning scenario I originally envisioned.  Like the first two books, it is locally oriented, set among a couple of small bands of humans and Tuskers, with the implication that more is going on that we can't see.  That makes it more personal, more human (or individual) oriented.

If I feel the people, like the people (good or bad), then I have a story.

Yesterday's walk was so pleasant, I'm going to retrace it today.

Good things come to those who wait.

Oh, sure.  Keep telling yourself that.

Feeling a bit in limbo. The Dead Spend No Gold has been with the publisher for a month, which isn't that long in the scheme of things, especially compared to the old days.  Still, makes me a little uneasy that it hasn't come out yet. (No good reason, the contract is signed.)

Just waiting.

I feel responsible for the sales of my books.  I want my publisher to be happy. When it comes out, I'm going to do my best to get my friends to buy and read it.  Just warning you.

I have another publisher looking at Tuskers.  I was perfectly willing to self-publish Tuskers.  In fact, that was my intention.  But I had an opening, so I took it. (One of the owners had given Led to the Slaughter a good review.)

It is straying off the path I assigned myself.  But sometimes, I believe, you have to stray off the path so that you can find the outlines of the path.  It may be setting myself up for disappointment, but I've decided I can risk the blow to my ego. (Linda is always warning me to watch out for my arrogant mood.  I'm trying, I'm trying to be humble...)

Just waiting.

Meanwhile, having a bit of a hard time at the start of Tuskers III.  I've written about 1500 words a day, instead of my usual 2000 words and beyond.  Again, not that big a deal in the scheme of things.  My pace has been blistering for a couple of years now, and should be no surprise if I slow down.

I thought maybe the month off would rejuvenate me, but instead I think it made me slightly rusty.

I continue to walk as much as I can, and my weight hasn't budged in a couple of weeks, which is disappointing.  Still...sticking to the program.  I'm weirdly disciplined for being such a lazy S.O.B.

Just waiting.

Ordered a cool book from my book distributor, called The Meek Cutoff, which is full of detailed maps.  I plan to diagram a route I can follow, and then stop every ten miles or so and write about what I see.  I'm hoping I can do this before the weather turns.  If I can't get to it, I'll do it in the spring instead.

I'm feeling like the current book is missing some description, so on my walk today I'm going to try to work at adding some sensory material.

Because I plan to make a full push when The Dead Spend No Gold comes out, I've been quiet about it on my social media.  Other than this blog, which is about the nuts and bolts of writing. (And my constant trying to boost my motivation.)

Just waiting.

Writing as therapy. Readers will understand.

I spent a month not writing.

And it bugged me.

I did it because I thought I needed to recharge a little.  I had other things I wanted to do, exercise and losing weight, which are like having a second job.

But I got more and more antsy as time stretched on.  I started to doubt myself.  The fun started to fade.

As soon as I started writing a couple of days ago, I felt a calm come over me.  It felt comfortable and right.  I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.

As I've mentioned, when I'm actually writing, I don't care whether the book is ever going to be published or successful.  I just care that the book feels good to me. 

People have asked if the writing is enough.

For reasons that are somewhat unexpected, I'd have to say yes.  The process itself to me is very satisfying.  Telling a story is very fulfilling.  I love the challenge and the technical details.  I just like having that subconscious flow going.

Readers will understand how I feel.

I think if you are inveterate reader you feel antsy if you're not in the middle of a book.  For me, it has always been like a 'second life' if you will; just under the surface of my everyday life, I've got this other narrative going.

Writing is like that for me, only more so.  Without it, everything seems a little more shallow, has a little less meaning.  It somehow adds depth, some inner meaning to the day's events. 

It may be an illusion.  But it feels so good that I think that I could do without most anything else as long as I have a book to read.

Or a book to write.

Something had to give.

I'm just more comfortable with myself when I have a writing project going.  I'm not sure why.  I focus less on whether my books are selling, or when my books are going to be released, or if they are going to be accepted by a publisher.

Instead, my subconscious is involved in story.  My conscious thoughts are, "How can I improve this?  What does it need?  Where do I go from here?"

Yesterday, I was struggling with the first two chapters, instead of writing new material.  But at the end of the day I think I fixed the problems and now I can move on.

The second chapter of Tuskers III didn't make any sense, timing wise, with what I'd done in Tuskers II.

But it was Tuskers II that was wrong, I decided, so I worked all day on making the two books consistent with each other.

I really like my solution.  It doesn't wrap things up quite as much in II, but carries the story on into III. I have enough of a climax to satisfy the reader, I think, but this makes the story flow right into the next book.

I've decided I need a slight recap of what happened in books I and II, but as soon as I've done that today, I can move on. 

I also decided that the amount of time I was giving myself to write III was too severe, and I loosened that up.  Rescheduled.  Back to my very comfortable 2000 words a day.  (Which is still a lot.)

Tuskers I was a fluke.  I'll probably never write a book that fast ever again.

Meanwhile, it was mid-afternoon by the time this was done, not enough time to both go for a long walk (2 or 3 hours) and also sort books at Linda's store (1 or 2 hours).  I made a commitment to Linda to sort books (in exchange for her taking more books in) so I did that, and just took more time walking around filing than normal.  Walked maybe a couple miles that way.

I hated to break the string of walks, but something had to give.

I arranged to have today off from work, but I realized that I still need to go in for a couple of hours to do chores, so one of my new habits may go out the window today too.  Linda is sick, so I'll probably go for a walk instead of sorting.

Walking is very conducive to writing, by the way.  It really seems to stir the contents of my subconscious somehow. 

I feel very secure in my writing right now.  I like what's coming out of my brain. 

The Gatekeepers.

I've been thinking a lot about the old method of publishing (agents/Big Five) versus the new world of indie or small press publishing.

I think it may take 10 or 20 years, but I believe the old method is outmoded, that it is eventually going to be bypassed.


So here's my analogy to what I think is going on.

Let's say there is a fishgate in a stream that chooses which fish get to swim further upstream.  It's trying to chose the healthiest, biggest fish, or the fish with the biggest potential.  So in the old days, the stream was smaller and the gate was bigger and it did a decent job of picking fish, though it always seemed to miss a few big ones. (J.K. Rowling, for instance, got locked out something like 12 times, after all.  And there are many more examples.)

But over the years, as the stream has gotten wider and there are more fish, the gate has actually gotten narrower.  But since it is the only way to pass, it still has the same power it ever had, even though it no longer is doing a very good job.

Now they could expand and improve the gate, try to make it better, maybe hire some of young Turks who are better at picking winners.  But the Gatekeepers are doing the opposite. They have fewer editors, not more.  They have narrowed the gates.

Here's the thing that makes the gate an anachronism.  Someone has come along and built a channel around the gate.  Now anyone can swim around it at any time.  Big fish, small fish, healthy fish, unhealthy fish.  The gate no longer impedes them.

After a while, it will become very clear that many healthy big fish have ignored the gate and swum upstream on their own.

Why wouldn't they?

Writing first.

Wrote the first two chapters of Tuskers III yesterday.

So I'm ready to go.  Sorry.  Just boring writing updates for awhile.

Wrote the first chapter at home, then went out to the badlands for my daily walk.  Wrote part of the second chapter on the way there, pulling over to the side of the highway four times to write, and then about halfway through the walk, pulled out my MacAir and wrote the rest.

Very fulfilling.

Thing is, I usually sublimate everything to writing.  I am once again realizing how dominating writing becomes in my life when I'm active.  The way I have to subordinate everything else, no exceptions.

I've been delaying dealing with my taxes, though I have an appointment with the accountant on Monday. 

I'm taking the entire week off from work, in hopes that I can get a good start on the story. 

I think it can be done if I do my writing first, and everything else second. 

So that's the plan.

This is a little different, though.  I'm trying to fit other things in, like the walking, like the filing books at the Bookmark, like taxes, like work. 

Most of my writing up to now has been writing first, and second and third, and there was nothing else.

I'm feeling slightly disconnected, and I don't think that's a good thing for writing.  Maybe when I get the taxes done, I can fully commit.

I'm not sure. 

If this doesn't work, if I feel the writing isn't as good because I'm not giving it 100% of my time, then I'll clear the decks and do that. 

Because writing comes first.

Fuck it.  I'm doing taxes this afternoon, and clear that away, and then I'm going to do nothing but writing for the next 8 days, nevermind the book filing and the walks.  If I can fit them in, fine.  Otherwise, it's writing, writing writing.