Week 25 - Ode to Joy

 

Update – Made it through last week in far better shape than I did the week before. I still had to spend the weekend working in order to make deadline, but I took it easy, paced myself and made it through without stress or screwing off. This whole month has been a series of overlapping assignments with short deadlines. So of course for the last of the batch I get the shortest one with the longest lead time and (so far) nothing upcoming. Monday starts a new month, but that could change. Won’t matter, because I’ll probably have this one done by Monday. I may even get some time off next week. And a nice fat paycheck in July. I’m having pizza and Chinese takeout. Finally, I get to live big!

I was supposed to write a book this month. Due to a lot of paid work (which I really shouldn’t be complaining about) and a slipup into the game playing ( which I was able to get a handle on), the writing didn’t happen. I’m still making progress on the second draft of the detective book, but I really need to get my ass in gear.

So, try, try again. I will attempt to write an entire draft of a book in July. For sure this time. Unless I get a lot of work again. And if I can decide on a genre. Maybe I’d have better luck writing YA romantacy. I hear that’s hot right now. Best excuse ever to put off writing: reading other people’s books instead. My subconscious continues to trip me up in truly insidious ways.

My readership has taken a nosedive since I posted my “diversity” rants. Even the bots don’t like politics. Yeah well. Some of the books I’m planning will be coming out under pen names so nobody’s going to know it’s me anyway.  As for YA romantacy, there’s no point in writing to trends because by the time you ID them and try to hop on the bandwagon the trend is already passé. I’ll just write whatever I want to and see if I can start a trend. Who knows, I could get lucky.

$$$$

Sometimes life is not fair. I felt that way when I learned that Mark Hamill never got an Emmy for his work as the Joker in Batman: The Animated Series. I have no idea how this travesty happened. His voice acting on there was legendary. To a lot of fans (including this one) Hamill is the definitive Joker, even beating out Heath Ledger. If you’ve seen the show, if you’ve heard Hamill’s performance, you know why. Hamill was a comic book fan, and Joker is an icon, the role of a lifetime. He threw himself into that part 210 percent; you can hear his enthusiasm coming out of your TV’s speakers. I was thrilled to learn, through an interview with Kevin Conroy (he voiced Batman), that Hamill was just as animated as his character during recording sessions. While everyone else just sat on the stools in the booth and recorded their parts, Hamill was up on his feet, physically acting out the part, providing the manic energy he felt the Joker would display. It didn’t win him an Emmy, but it earned him the respect and admiration of the fans, and a load of personal satisfaction. He was having a blast, and it showed.

A voice-acting Emmy was awarded to Eartha Kitt for her role as Yzma in The Emperor’s New School Disney TV show, a spinoff from The Emperor’s New Groove. The shows ran in different decades so they were never in competition, which is just as well. Kitt was a pro who gave her all and then some to the role, and clearly enjoyed the hell out of it. Like the Joker, Yzma was an over-the-top character she could just go wild with, and she rose to the challenge with gusto. Come to think of it, she brought that same energy to her role of Catwoman on the old Adam West Batman TV show. Eartha Kitt was a force of nature, a legend and deservedly so. Watch the show, or the movie, listen to how she delivers her dialogue, and you can tell she’s having a grand old time.

When you love what you’re doing, it shows in the finished product. On a TV show or movie, you can hear it. In a book, it comes through on the page. I’ve read otherwise well-written books that bored the hell out of me. They probably bored the writer too. Some books read like the author was cranking them out for the bucks, or contractual obligation. I think that’s what happened to Frank Herbert. Go check out Dune and its immediate sequel, Dune Messiah. Dune is an unquestioned classic of science fiction that draws you into its world and its characters and holds you spellbound for (in my edition) almost 500 pages and brings the story to a satisfying conclusion. Dune Messiah is…a sequel. It’s a competently-told story and all, but that’s it. That magic something that permeates the first book is absent from the second. I suspect Herbert was driven to write Dune due to some inner compulsion and poured his heart and all his skill as a writer into it. The drive to write Dune Messiah probably came from either publisher insistence, clamoring fans or the chance for another huge paycheck, something no writer with a functioning brain will ever turn down. You can’t blame writers for revisiting a well that’s flowing so freely. But after that first satisfying drink, the water doesn’t taste quite the same. The joy of discovery, of creating something new and exciting, simply isn’t there.

When it is present, though, you can tell. Those are the books you can’t put down. Those are the books that grab you by the throat and drag you into their world and won’t let you go until you reach the last page. For me, that was Lonesome Dove. That book ran over 1000 pages and kept me enthralled for every one of them. My only complaint was that it ended. Even after 1000 pages I still wanted more.

Or—and I’m being totally serious here—Twilight. It wasn’t my cup of hot chocolate, but I could understand why its target audience—and others—not only loved it but were rabid about it. Stephenie Meyer knew what she was doing when she created Bella and her dead boyfriend. She tapped a vein, so to speak, and the readers responded. The writing may not have been stellar, but the magic was there. It’s the magic, the writer’s joy in writing, that makes the difference.

Maybe that’s why I’m stuck and unable to work on my romance series. I did write one of them, but it was Book 3. I wanted to start with Book 1, like a normal person, but Book 3 called out to me. The characters demanded I tell their story first. So I did, and I had a blast. There were no real blocks while writing that book. I churned out pages like nobody’s business and got it done in record time. The detective book was the same way. I couldn’t wait to get up in the morning, grab my pen and notebook and go to town, even when I had no clear idea of what was coming next. Figuring that out was half the fun.

Series Book 1, on the other hand, just sat there. I had all the events in order, but the prose was flat. Devoid of magic. Even I couldn’t get myself interested in these people. If I can’t drum up interest in my own story, why should anyone else give a rat’s patoot?

This is why my career as a romance writer petered out. I can’t crank out a book a month, which is pretty much a requirement in epublishing. Not unless I’m feeling it. Sure, I could write something and call it a book. It might even be readable. People might like it and it might even sell. But I wouldn’t be happy. I want the books I write to have that magic in them. I want to feel joy in the story I’m writing, so I can share it with the readers. You guys will, hopefully, be forking over hard-earned cash for this. You deserve the best I can give you.

For July…let’s see what happens. One of my other romance series has started to nudge me again. Or maybe I need to switch genres, which is how the detective story happened. I’ll look through some notes, read through some pages, and see where the magic is hiding. If and when I find it, that’s the book that will get written. Though I may have to crank out the series on the side, because I’ve got bills to pay. That had magic in it at one time; it may stir once again. I’ll never know unless I explore. I’m off to hunt for happiness! See y’all next week.

 

  

Week 24 - Coping

 

Update – Last week got a little hectic. My day job has been sending me overlapping assignments this  month, which means either focus on one and shortchange the other due to lack of lead time, or try to do two at once. I responded by withdrawing and blowing off my work time on computer games instead. This resulted in an all-day marathon, starting at 5 a.m., the day before deadline. And I got the sucker done. The solution to the game problem was simple: unplug the WiFi. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

I still made time to work on my own writing, at least up until the weekend. The slow pace is actually working out to my advantage. I finally caught up to a scene that’s been sitting for so long I was able to objectively see just how totally out of character my one cast member was behaving. To be fair, I didn’t know her that well when I wrote the first draft. I’ve had more time to think things over and to get to know her better, and crafted a whole new version that imparts the same info and keeps the plot moving while staying true to who she is. It also nets her the machete, which she’ll put to good use in the climactic fight scene. As an added bonus, it solved a problem I didn’t even realize existed: in that same battle, another character steals the PI’s gun and shoots somebody. Nothing in the first draft even hinted she knew how to handle firearms, in either her world or ours. So this time around I had her hand off the machete with the explanation, “I’m not much of a fighter. I can shoot a gun and that’s it.” Now I can go ahead and have her blast away with a clear conscience because I’ve set it up. This is why it’s a good idea to let time pass between drafts: the distance makes the bloopers stand out more. You plotters have it so much better; you work out all this shit beforehand.  We pantsers, who write on the fly, have to sweat through multiple drafts. On the other hand, we provide work for editors. Maybe that’s our true place in the publishing food chain.

$$$$

I’ll admit, I was in a pretty bad place emotionally last week. I think I’ve got a handle on it now. I’d better; I don’t have a support system, and I can’t afford therapy. I’m utilizing the Poor Person’s Approach to Combatting Depression: working at getting sufficient sleep, eating more fresh fruits and veggies, cutting back on sugar, taking stabs at exercise and getting out of the house more, and flat out unplugging and walking away from the internet. Looking back, last week’s anxiety and personal loathing was entirely self-generated. I let events overwhelm me and chose to shut down rather than take a step back and give myself a chance to regroup. Removing the source of temptation by pulling the Wifi plug did the trick. I got the work done with time to spare and felt much better afterwards.

I wasn’t quite over the hump, though. I jumped right into the next assignment, now with a shortened lead time because I had to wrap up the first one, but caught myself playing more games than doing actual work. I shut everything down and had a long talk with myself over what’s important. The next morning I got up and plugged in the WiFi, but this time with the resolution to take care of business first. And work got done, with the WiFi intact but without any swerves into games, and only brief forays onto YouTube. (Hint: you can tie up the net by running background music and enjoy yourself while still working.) I seem to be okay now, but I’ve walked this path before. I’m always fine after I give up the games…right up until the next time. The “next times” seem to be coming more frequently. I should be addressing the underlying problem, but the budget’s strained to the breaking point right now. Until I can earn enough money to afford a shrink, the coping mechanisms will just have to suffice.

I did learn some positive lessons from the experience. I’m capable of accomplishing more in a day than I thought I was. There’s a difference between taking a legitimate, needed break and totally screwing off. Schedules work. In this particular case, I’m the weak link in the chain.

It all comes down to time and the choices you make in how you spend it. Budget wisely and you can indeed have it all. Make a wrong, impulsive choice and you’ll be left scrambling. That may not often lead to true disaster, but it sure as hell feels like it in the moment. It can spike anxiety and a crash into hopelessness, or force you to assess and acknowledge what really matters. Do I really need to watch Thor: Ragnarok again? Deadline’s two days away. On the other hand, I can’t concentrate on the work right now and the longer I sit there, the more I feel compelled to play Spider Solitaire, which can and has stretched from “just one game” into a five- to seven-hour tournament. Or longer. Without pee breaks. That’s edging into self-destructive territory and is definitely not a good thing.

When I find myself hitting this particular wall, the best thing I can do is just get up and get outside. Or take a nap. Not play games or watch Ragnarok, because that just makes me feel guilty afterwards. Just change the venue for an hour or so. Drink water, take deep breaths. Then, once the panic passes, go back in and do what needs doing, like a real grownup. I could probably save even more time if I just breathed into a bag. I may try that sometime.

There is hope. I’m writing again because I made the choice to make time for it. I give myself an hour in the morning before I start paid work or mow the lawn or do anything else. That gets my daily writing obligation out of the way first thing. If I have the time and inclination at the end of the day after the paid work’s done, that’s gravy. On a good day, I can write, mow or pull weeds, make a sizeable chunk of progress on a paid assignment and be able to quit and watch Jeopardy or read a book at the end of the day with no guilt whatsoever. Those are the days I sleep well, too. I haven’t vacuumed or dusted in months. I can live with that but probably shouldn’t be content with it. Maybe I’ll start adding that in next week. Too much loaded on my plate makes me panic and spiral again.

Because it’s just me here. I don’t have backup. I’m my only source of income. I’m the one in charge, and sometimes that’s scary as hell. All I can do is keep on keeping on, and make better choices regarding my time than I have in the past. Like posting this blog. I used my morning writing time to get this done. Well, I can scribble flash tonight, or rewrite longhand and type it up later. And I’ll bet I just saved myself a ton of cash by dumping all this out on the Da Web instead of paying some douche with a degree to sit there and ask me, “How does that make you feel?” Thanks for handing me roughly fifteen minutes of your own precious time. I hope there was something worthwhile in here for you. See y’all next week.

 

Weeks 22 & 23 - What Grinds My Gears

 

Update(s) – Things went better last week, the week I’m writing about, than this week, the week I’ll be writing about next week. These updates would go better if I wrote them on Sundays, which was my original intention. Last week (May 26-June 1) I got stuff done, including paid work and writing. This week (May 2-May 7, the day I’m typing this) I finally started cleaning the weeds out of the yard and wrestled with a bad bout of constipation, culminating in a two-day descent into computer game hell once again. However, I got back to the writing this morning and I’m confident I can get the paid work done before deadline, so it’s all good. Next week I’ll see about getting myself back onto a less confusing schedule.

$$$$

As I feared, my last posted topic may have had internet repercussions. Over the last week my readership dropped alarmingly. Even the Hong Kong bots deserted me. Traffic’s slowly picking up again, though, so maybe it was just a glitch. And Switzerland’s still there. (waves) Maybe I’m just being paranoid.

To summarize, with clarifications: I am not against racial and sexual diversity in my reading and viewing material. I’ve included diverse characters in my own works, but only if it enhances the plot. I wasn’t planning on adding other races to the cast of my current book, but the Token Black Mercenary character started developing a personality, which led me to the conclusion his writer must have been a black man. This gave my main bad guy, the greedy, self-absorbed editor, the excuse to fire him for the crime of Writing for a White Audience While Black. The editor does a lot of reprehensible things, but that one should guarantee his infamy. It also made a crucial info source black as well, because he was the fired writer’s nephew and had actually met the two other writers the detective’s looking for. Plus it solved a background issue of my story being set in Philadelphia. Philly, like most major cities, is a melting pot of what Star Trek used to refer to as “infinite diversity in infinite combinations.” If I hadn’t included at least one Person of Color in the cast, it really would have been a fantasy.

What I do object to is having diversity forcibly crammed down my throat, in the form of a constant stream of feisty Girl Bosses who can do no wrong (think Mary Sue, but as a lesbian POC), or race- and/or gender-swapping established characters in the name of “equality” (Doctor Who; Thor: Love and Thunder). I tune in to see Superman stopping bad guys, not Superman’s young-adult bisexual son sexting with his gay boyfriend. Yes, that scene appeared in a comic book.  There are exceptions: My Adventures with Superman, the Adult Swim cartoon, is a true delight, even though Lois Lane is now biracial (she’s half Korean, according to the producers), and Jimmy Olsen appears to be permanently black, continuing the race swap initiated by the CW’s Supergirl show. That’s because everyone, regardless of skin tone, still remains true to their original characterizations. The writers clearly respect the characters and their history. That isn’t always the case. When the writers start using someone else’s characters to pound their pet agendas into our heads, it’s time to close the book or turn off the TV. Or get the hell off the internet.

But what really ticks me off is what may be the true motivation behind the surge of inclusivity, at least for the corporations that own the IP rights to all these characters getting largely-inappropriate makeovers. As with everything in a capitalist society, it all comes down to money.

$$$$

Three real-life stories, two of which happened to me personally, two of which deal with diversity…at least on the surface. Story 1: Back around 2008 I lost what turned out to be my last full-time job when the company, a printing firm, sent its work to India. This was also around the time the economy tanked, and finding jobs was a chore. I got lucky and signed on for the US Census, essentially a two-year temp job with no benefits but great pay. When that ended I still had unemployment to tide me over while I started a new job hunt in the slowly-recovering economy. I found two possibilities on the internet: a newspaper editorial position that, from the location and description, sounded like my old newspaper job, just under new management. The other was a writing job I’d applied to years ago but didn’t get; I think I may have botched the interview. Both were the types of jobs I’d been doing for years, had an interest in and experience with. Both ads contained the lines Recent graduates encouraged to apply. Experience is fine, but not required.

In short, they’re not looking for pros. They’re looking for young and cheap. Preferably women, because women traditionally get paid less. That’s how I got to be an editor in the first place. I wasn’t young, but I had no experience and would accept pittance wages to get it. The other woman, who had experience, wanted more money. Guess who got the job. Now I had experience and needed full-time work. Good luck with that.

I clicked on the Apply Now tab for the newspaper job, only to learn it was already filled, probably internally. I sent a resume to the other one. Never heard back. They probably saw the writing-related experience I had and decided I was too rich for their blood. I eventually got my work-from-home job, so things worked out, more or less.

Story 2:  It’s a few years later. Harlequin, the romance publisher, was looking for editors for Carina Press, which I think is an e-book line. They had a list of qualifications that my work-from-home job had given me some experience in. The pay sounded a lot better than what I was getting. They also used the “recent grads” line, along with a new one encouraging interest from members of “traditionally marginalized groups.” Again, experience was welcome but its lack was not a deal breaker, and diversity was a plus. I sent in my resume, answering all the questions. And got a reply: “We’re not going to interview you.” It’s the only line I remember from their response. Not even: “We had 1000 applicants who live across the street from our offices” or even “We’ve decided to hire last year’s interns.” My application itself got shot down in flames. I wish they hadn’t responded at all. Nothing like asking about a job and getting a smack in the face for it.

Months later, I checked out their “meet our new members!” page to see who’d won the lottery. It looked like they did hire a lot of interns, or people who actually knew their way around a publishing house. Can’t fault ’em for that. Some of their hires had pronouns, like “they/them”. Hey, if you’re qualified, fine. What you do on your own time shouldn’t matter anyway. But my favorite part of this story is what happened some weeks afterwards. Both the editor and the assistant editor (I think, but can’t recall for sure, if she was the one who responded to my application) were abruptly fired. The editor was on vacation at the time. She’d been there for years and had built that line from the ground up. She was also probably pulling in a higher salary than the new kids would be getting. Last I heard, she was marketing herself as a “freelance editor” and offering paid tutorials in editing. She’s not young and cheap any more, and probably not diverse either. Such is karma.

Story 3: One of the writers at DC Comics—Zack Snyder, I think, I don’t feel like double-checking—[Correction: I ended up looking it up; Scott Snyder is the comic book writer. Zack (no relation) is a director who has done DC-related movies] had been running a workshop in comic book writing for several years before I learned about it. I applied for what turned out to be the last one. Only a set number, maybe ten, would be invited, but some of those lucky few would get jobs writing for DC. I was always more of a Marvel fan, but what the hell. I always wanted to write for comics. This could be my last shot.

Well, it missed. I didn’t get picked. I did not get to take part in the workshop. In the end, Snyder picked a trans woman. Most of his previous picks were people of color, trans, black, and any and all combinations thereof. Word is that Snyder, himself a straight white man, was deliberately seeking diversity hires to broadcast his “wokeness” and secure his own job. Hell, if I’d known that was a requirement, I could have faked being a lesbian. I even supported the Harley Quinn/Poison Ivy ship before it became canon. But there y’go. Now DC Comics is in the dumpster and the writers are begging their fans for money to pay their bills because wages are even lower than they were back in the 1990s, when comics were popular. And good. And yet these people are still getting assignments, although the work’s drying up as the backlash sets in. I probably get more from Social Security than they do writing for comics. I think I may have dodged a bullet here.

$$$$

All this is why I’m glad now I missed out on the Berkley open call. That “fresh, new voices” bit was the warning shot: published writers, fogies over 40 and white folks stay away. We’re not looking for good books; we’re looking to check boxes. Quality is an afterthought. My guess is, advances are going to be a lot smaller than they were ten to twenty years ago. Assuming they even pay advances. If it’s e-books, they offer a percentage of net sales. Either way, the publisher’s going to make money; you can bank on that. The writer? Maybe not so much. But with very few exceptions, that’s always been the case.

And yet I persist. There’s nothing much else I can do. I’m no longer young and cheap, and I’ve always been boringly white and straight. I have become unhireable. Might as well go out doing something I enjoy. And no, I don’t mean playing computer games. See y’all next week.