Tag: authortalk

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of confidence and validation

I don’t know that I can pinpoint an exact catalyst for becoming a writer. It seems that I’ve been creating and telling stories my whole life. I do know that the idea that I could write actual books with my name on the covers came in my teens.

It didn’t start with books, obviously. First came poetry. Oh my, was it some terrible poetry! It was trite and sappy or it was trite and dark. I guess it was the primary outlet of my teenage angst.

From there, I dipped my toe into the ocean of short story writing. I was at least marginally better at that, as it was essentially what I’d already been doing without actually writing stuff down.

It was inevitable, however, that I would turn to full length novels. I wrote my first one longhand on notebook pages. It was awful. It was derivative of every movie I had ever seen and every book I had ever read and I tried to cram so very much plot into it that there were inevitably huge holes and forgotten lines. My characters were either stereotypes or wooden.

Still, this is the book that bit me. I let friends read it, and, friends being friends, they all loved it and clamored for more. It was my freshman year of high school, and my notebooks and pages got handed around school.

I got my first typewriter for Christmas that year. I banged away at that thing every single day for hours at a time. First, I typed up that first book. Then I got started on a sequel. During my sophomore year of high school, I would type up around ten pages or so each night. Those pages got clipped together and numbered, because in the morning I was passing the “chapters” around to those who were reading it, and I gathered them back together again at the end of the day.

It was my first real taste of what it was like to write for an audience. I still have some of those stories around here somewhere. That second was still awful, but it was awful in completely different ways than the first, so that was progress I suppose.

Today I’m still fairly sure some of my writing is awful and I struggle with imposter syndrome a great deal (as I’m sure all writers do at some point), but I try to hold onto the confidence of that teenager, handing out pages to her peers in search of any scrap of validation and the confirmation that this is what I was meant to be.

Happy Friday, Readers! I hope you have a grand weekend.

Photo by Roman Kraft on Unsplash

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let’s weekend

Somehow, it’s Friday again. I’m hoping that I get some writing time this weekend and that my muse is willing to play. Recently, when I have the time, I have the time, I have no input from my muse. It’s problematic.

Of course, that doesn’t mean that my muse isn’t working on the book, there’s a whole lot of world building and character creation going on in my head for the second Blood Witch book.

Because this book takes our heroine to a whole new world we get to create it from the ground up, which is something I love doing. The plot is still developing, but will include Thána emerging into an ongoing war and find her attempting to find her sister amidst the political machinations and physical devastation of this new world.

I also get to play with new races and fun new characters, which is also exciting.

But, for now it’s time for the day job…well, one of them anyway. Happy Friday, Readers!

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it is very people-y out there

I have a form of agoraphobia.  I’ve stopped saying “mild agoraphobia” because then it gets dismissed as not a problem and then people don’t understand why I have days like today.

Today, I woke up feeling anxious.  My heart was beating fast, and when I thought about leaving the house, the beat picked up momentum. I did a few grounding exercises and managed to get up and into the shower.  I knew I had to get to the office.  The office isn’t *safe* like my home is, however it is a familiar place with plenty of open space and familiar faces so it is infinitely safer than *out there* is.

I have routines that help me on days like today.  I have a couple of grounding exercises, I have a set pattern that is my “getting out the door” signal to my brain and body that we are leaving the house.  I have my headphones and music that help keep me inside myself as I walk to the train.

This isn’t just social anxiety.  This isn’t just me being introverted.  I’m an introverted extrovert most of the time.  I wish I had the words to paint you a picture of what is going on inside my head when I have to force myself to leave the house.

Every human interaction is work.  Interaction that requires conversation is more work.  Each additional person involved in that conversation increases that work exponentially and eventually I will need to tap out.  Today that limit is two.  Any more than two people attempting to interact with me at a time and I can’t.  Some days it gets as low as one.  Somedays, I can’t even handle one.  Those are the days that plans get changed and I stay home, locked inside the safety of my domain.

Today was one of those mornings where everyone at the train station wanted to talk.  By the time I got on the train, I was shaking.  By the time I got to the office I was exhausted. By the time this day is over, I’ll be a wrung out mess.

The frustrating part of all of this is that I love people.  I love meeting new people. I love observing people just going about their daily lives.  On days like today, when the agoraphobic anxiety is high and the desire to hide in the private sanctuary that is my own home, I just can’t people.  It is all I can do to get through the day if I have to be away from my sanctuary.

If I didn’t have to keep a roof over my head, I might have called today a mental health day and stayed in the quiet cocoon of home.  But, my boss doesn’t understand the condition and he would be annoyed if I tried to explain to him that I couldn’t people today.

So, I’ll power through.  I’ll put in my earphones and play some Flogging Molly or Dropkick Murphys loudly to create a sonic bubble around me and hope that my coworkers take the hint.

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donations, community, partners

Sometimes I think that the Mondays that follow productive weekends are harder than the ones that follow lazy weekends. We’re heading into the time of year when I have little time for lazy.  There are obligations and volunteer duties, family time and other crazy stuff.

I have volunteered with San Francisco Pride for better than ten years, working in the Donations Partners department.  Essentially, we are the people who greet festival goers with big pink pickle buckets asking for donations to help support the parade and festival. This year I have stepped up to manage the Donations Partners.  It’s a huge task, and a lot of responsibility, but I confess that I love the challenge.

You may wonder where that donation money goes.  And who are all of those people with the buckets anyway?

We partner with community organizations, non-profit groups that work with the LGBT community in some way.  They come from all sections of the spectrum, from groups that work with the homeless, to social organizations, from youth groups to cheerleaders, from churches to other religious groups, from local community centers to drag queens and their courts. Each of these organizations provides volunteers to do the bucket thing.

It’s a long day of work, but each hour that a volunteer works earns money for their organization.  At the end of the festival, the donations money is tallied up, and some of it goes back to the Pride organization to help pay the bills.  The rest is divided up into an hourly rate, and each of the partner organizations gets a grant based on the number of hours their volunteers put in.

Unfortunately, the work puts a bit of a quash on my writing.  Which was my long winded way of saying that I didn’t get much writing done this weekend.  But I did get to take my 68 year old mother to a tattoo shop for the first time in her life.  We took my niece to get her ears pierced.  It was an experience, I’ll say.

But no writing.  I guess I’ll have to try harder through the week.  I need to finish my short story so I can start editing for the anthology, and then I can get back to the world of Shades and Shadows.

 

 

 

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gregarious green

There’s something about going green…I mean, it’s not like it’s strange these days to see people with wild colors in their hair.  On a daily basis I see blues and pinks and purples in a variety of shades and styles.  But green isn’t as common.

I’ve always loved the color, from a faded mint to a dusty sage to a deep emerald to a dark hunter…it reminds me of the earth, of things that grow, things that are natural.

I tried it out back in February, when I wore a green wig to a convention.  I got so many compliments that I determined that one day I’d just do it. Go green.

Of course, it wasn’t as easy as just grabbing some green hair dye.  No, not when I’ve been dying my hair some shade of red for at least 6 years (since the last time I decided to go nuts, bleach it and do fun things with it).  I took me 3 bleachings and a color stripping to get to a blond enough blond that I could dye it green.

I had some moments of apprehension.  What if my work place wasn’t as progressive as I thought it was?  What if I hated it once it was done?  Didn’t stop me though.

Funny thing, this green hair.  I find my self-confidence bolstered,  I find myself happy when I look in the mirror, I find my anxiety levels a little less than they were.  And, people seem to like it.  Sure, I’ve had a few people look at me as if I’m nuts, but most of them smile and nod.  Some even tell me they like it.  People at work love it.

That too makes me smile.  Sure, I’ll be forty-nine in September, but numbers will never prevent me from seeking out what makes me happy.

I hope you can say the same.  Be yourself and put a little color in your life!

In the sequel to Through Shade and Shadow, we meet Zero, a teenage character who expresses herself through wigs that range from the mundane to the outlandish. None of them have been green yet.  I may have to fix that!

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Beltane blessings and happy Monday

May 1st, it’s one of the “big ones” for most modern Pagans.  Beltane is a celebration of life, the awakening of the earth, the dancing of the maypole, the fervor of frenzied mating that calls out to all creation that now is the time to seed the fields.

Many of my Pagans friends were up and out before the dawn, gathering in fields and on hilltops to sing and dance in the daylight, to greet the rising sun with cheer.  It is the time of the maiden, of flower crowns and a heady innocence that leads into day, and as night falls, brings us to the fires to be baptised and raised up, delivering us into the heat and passion of creation.

For the rest of the world, it’s Monday.  A beginning of a different kind.  Here in San Francisco it feels like we’ve finally turned a corner weather wise.  The nights are still cool, but the days are getting warmer.  I’m celebrating with a change of hair color that seems to suit both the holy day of Beltane and the return of the spring.

green

Yes, I went green this weekend, after spending a ridiculous amount of time getting all of the red out of my hair.  I really like the way it turned out.

Anyway, enough of my prattling at you.  Did you know you can still get Forever  for free (on Kindle)?  Today and tomorrow.  You can’t get much better than Free!  And, while Amara’s story may seem more like Samhain reading than Beltane, who knows when the next time is you can get it for nothing?

So, I’m going to get on with the day job now.  I hope all you Pagans out there have a smashing Beltane, and the rest of you, Happy Monday!

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happy Wednesday

Wednesdays are hard, aren’t they?  It’s all hands on deck to push this week up over that hump and we’re already tired from Monday and Tuesday, so it feels like twice as much work.

Today, in San Francisco, the air is wet.  It isn’t exactly raining, but the fog lies low and it feels like walking through a raincloud.  That doesn’t help with the whole feeling like getting the work done.  It feels like the kind of day I’d like a fire in a nice fireplace, a cuddly kitty, a cup of tea and a good book to read.

But, that won’t pay the bills.  So, here I am in the office, getting a head start on the day.  I’m the first one here most of the time, which means I spend most of the first hour alone.  It’s great for catching up on emails, and finishing up the loose ends from the day before.

As luck would have it, this particular Wednesday is your last chance to jump in on the two giveaways I’m hosting over on Goodreads.  I’m offering up two signed copies of both of my books.  To enter, just pop on over here or over here (or do both).

I’m going to go refill my coffee cup and see about a re-write on some technical documentation before the office gets busy.  Hope your Wednesday is a day filled with kindness and the good coffee.

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hit the streets

I’ve been thinking a lot lately on book promotion and how to get new readers.  Some of my fellow authors have small “street teams” or early review teams who help get the word out, get reviews up early, and talk about their books on various social media platforms.

Are you interested in joining my team?  I’m still getting the details together, but there would be benefits.  First of course, you would get an electronic copy of a new book before it’s release so that you can review it as soon as it’s available online.

I’m still considering perks.  Maybe something like, leave a review on 5 different sites (amazon.com, amazon.co.uk, goodreads, barnesandnoble.com and your blog maybe), and I’ll send you a signed hard copy?

And, yes, I am still trying to build up reviews on both Forever and Through Shade and Shadow. If you have read either, please consider taking a few minutes to leave a review on any amazon site and/or any other site you see reviews on.

If you want to be a part of my team and be among the first to receive an electronic copy of In Shades of Sage when it’s ready, comment below or email me at natalie@nataliejcase.com.

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the joys of public transportation

As a writer, I am a people watcher.  I love finding spots where I can sit an unobtrusively observe the world around me.  I find the lives of others endlessly fascinating, even in the most mundane activities.

Each person has their own story.  Some of them more than one.  They all come from somewhere.  They all are thinking about things I can’t know about.  I live in an area where people watching can be a very rich sport.

Some of the most stand out people though are those I observe on my daily commute.  I live east of San Francisco, and I take the BART train into the city 3 to 5 days a week.  Most of the time the ride in is quiet.  Everyone is busy catching up on Facebook and email or trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep before the day really begins.

The ride home though…that is a treasure trove of people watching.  Young mothers with small children, teenagers with their backpacks and music banging out of their earphones, construction workers looking tired and worn, business people in their suits….it’s like a microcosm of the Bay Area.

When it’s really crowded, like the scene above, and my agoraphobia ratchets up,  I pick out a single face and I start to tell myself a story about that person’s life.  That guy in the suit looking like he just spent an hour at the gym…it was his third interview that week, but so far nothing had panned out and he was tired, exhausted really, but he knew he needed something better.  He’s crammed into that corner trying to study the text book in his hands so he’ll be prepared for class that evening, after he goes home and feeds his baby and kisses his wife and promises her that things will get better.

Some of those little stories create characters so vivid for me that they end up in a book I’m writing. There are a few of them in Through Shade and Shadow.  Can you spot them?

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where do we go from here?

I’m sure a lot of writers get repeatedly asked the question about where our inspiration comes from, how do story ideas start. I can’t answer for others, but for me they literally come from everywhere.

A snippet of overheard conversation, a random image, a song lyric, a picture can all feed my imagination. Even random words can be the catalyst for a poem or story.

I see almost everything like it’s a starting point, a place to begin a new journey or carry on with a journey I’m already on.  I feel a need to create a story for things, like this fellow on this road in this picture.

wheredoigo

There’s a reason he’s there. There’s a reason he’s walking and walking on this road.  What’s behind him?  What lies ahead?  What kind of person is he? What does he want?

Lots more questions of course, but it starts me off and I immerse myself into the questions…

Theodore Dane walked out the door one morning in early spring, his hood pulled up, his hands in his pockets.  The screen door slammed shut behind him and his worn sneakers scuffed along the gravel driveway as he walked to the quiet, two-lane country road that ran past the house where he had lived his whole life.  There was nothing left holding him to the place but memories. He turned right and set off down the road.  The hills rose in the distance and somewhere beyond them was a world that was still waking up, a world that he had only glimpsed through books and the rare treat of time to watch the television.  A world he was ready to fall into, sink or swim.

I think provocative images provide some of the best story inspiration.  I think maybe I’ll start posting a story image and original short story once a week.  Have an image you’d like me to tell you a story about?  Email me at natalie@nataliejcase.com.