Two Years, Chopped Hair, Urgent Care, SCBWI, Shelving M3 = Roller Coaster Week

Hi friends,

I have so much to catch you up on. This week has been a stressful roller coaster ride. It started off on a good note. I celebrated my 2 year anniversary with Michael by recreating our first date (it's now become a tradition of ours).

To see how it unfolded last year and how our relationship began, click here.

He surprised me greatly by getting me a guitar and I, him, with a symbolic ring he's always wanted.

I don't have a good singing voice, nor am I skilled in music, but growing up music became a part of my life. I played flute for three years, piano for two, and learned some chords on the guitar by my ex-boyfriend in high school and it stuck through college. I was never really that good though, but I enjoyed putting simple melodies together and writing lyrics, but when I moved to Seattle, I literally gave away all my belongings, including my guitar and put it in the past. So it was very thoughtful that Michael had thought to give me a piece of California, and a creative part of me back.

What a wonderful way to start the week!

But unfortunately, work has been pretty busy, and I found myself pretty stressed with all that I needed to do, not just in my work life, but personal and writing life as well. I was overwhelmed by all the stuff I had to do and the non-progress in M3. It drove me insane. Why couldn't I get this story out as I did M2? Was life really so busy and chaotic that I couldn't handle it all? Would I have to give something up?

This overwhelming feeling festered within me, and I had hoped that maybe the SCBWI conference this weekend would give me some sort of direction in my writing life. As for the work and personal, I would just have to trudge through it. So I rush ordered my business cards and put on my can-do attitude.

But my attitude about work didn't change. I'm the kind of person that likes to get my stuff done so when software issues or last minute changes come my way, it ruffles my feathers a bit. But I had planned it out and I would finish my project by Friday.

On Thursday I had a haircut scheduled during my lunch break. I was long overdue for one, and had planned to keep my length and get my split ends trimmed, but when I sat in the salon chair, that overwhelming feeling came over me again. The reflection in the mirror looked so haggard, so sloppy, so stressed. "Just chop it all off," I told my stylist, not wanting another worry, no how matter infinitesimal it was.

And so she did.

With the weight from my hair off me, I was starting to feel better. More refreshed. I could handle the three facets of my life. Surely I could. I was a new woman now!

And then that night I got sick. A severe allergy attack. I couldn't sleep all night. And come morning, I wasn't any better. I was worse. I called in sick to work. I would not finish my project. That devastated me. Like I said, I pride myself in getting my work done, especially when I made promises to meet certain deadlines. Then I broke out into a fever. I started crying. Whatever this illness was, it didn't seem likely that I would be able to make it out to dinner that night with a friend and to a writer's networking cocktail hour like I had planned. Would I even be well enough to make it to the SCBWI conference the next day?

When Michael got home from work he took me to urgent care. Turns out my severe allergy attack turned into a sinus infection. I'd never had a sinus infection before so this pain was new to me and unbearable. The doctor prescribed me a nasal spray along with some other suggested OTC drugs. I went home, followed the directions, but didn't feel any better. I tossed and turned all night, getting snippets of sleep, and improved enough that I could rally myself and go to the conference.

I'll make another lengthier post about my experience as a first time conference attendee, but long story short, it made me realize that M3 needed to be put on pause. Perhaps I was overthinking it which stunted my progress. Or maybe I had fallen out of love with it after taking too many breaks with traveling and moving. Or maybe, M3 wasn't ready to be written and wasn't fully yet realized. Maybe it's one of those stories that takes years to cook, a story that I'll come back to, adding some spice, adjusting the taste, until I get it just right.

For now, M3 will be shelved, and I'm moving onto my next idea. 

It's been a roller coaster week filled with many ups and downs, twists, and turns. I was never one for roller coasters so I'm kind of glad to be off the ride now. I think it's time to leave the amusement park and get back to the steady humdrum of life.

Have you ever had a roller coaster kind of week? Comment below!

Yours truly,

Michelle

Beta Feedback So Far

As you guys know, the past three months I've been working diligently with my YA workshop critique partner to nail down my plot points and character motivation. Before leaving to Walla Walla two weeks ago I sent my fourth draft of M2 to four betas and my sisters to read. So in total I ended up with six readers! It was more than I intended since I didn't think my sisters would read it (but I am grateful they did!). As of now I've gotten feedback from 3 out of 6 and am expecting the rest of the feedback by Monday.

This is great news! It gives me time to polish up my manuscript before #PitchWars. And if I don't make it to #PitchWars, then I'll be ready to face the query trenches this fall.

Back to the feedback. Yesterday night I went out to dinner with Cristine to catch up and discuss my manuscript. Afterwards we came back to my apartment for wine and to hear Michael's thoughts on it too.

Along with my sister's notes I received this past weekend, there seems to be an agreement on a chapter that caused confusion and a desire for a more fleshed out ending. Thank the heavens, because these two main issues are totally fixable and won't cause ripple effects throughout the rest of the story or the subplot. Aside from other great little suggestions for tweaks here and there, I think the story line and pacing is pretty solid. So THANK YOU Dao, Cristine, and Michael. You have provided me with such invaluable insight and support. I can't wait to hear back from the other betas either as I know their comments will be just as important.

Since this is the first time I've shared my whole manuscript (not in a classroom/workshop setting), I just want to take a moment and smile until my cheeks hurt because this is a small victory. I can hardly believe that just a year ago I gave up on M1 and unplugged from writing for awhile.  Now in just ten months I've started a completely new manuscript (M2), gone through four revisions, and am now going onto my fifth revision before submitting to contests or querying.

Beta Reading, Synopsis, and Rain

It's Thursday which equals my Friday! Hallelujah!

Michael and I will be going on a getaway trip tomorrow to Walla Walla in Eastern Washington! I seriously cannot wait, this has been one of the longest weeks ever so I am pumped to get out of the city and do some wine tasting.

This week I sent my manuscript to four beta readers. I dowloaded it on my kindle too, but I think I should probably stay away from it awhile to gain some perspective.

M2 seriously drove me bonkers over the weekend, I thought I was going insane. The below comic explains it perfectly.

Though none of my betas are done reading, I've gotten some good comments which makes me sigh with relief (so it wasn't a complete shit show, excuse my language), but I am anxious for the bad comments that will eventually come. It's necessary though, contructive criticism will only make M2 stronger, which is what I want.

In the meantime I've been working on my synopsis and query (you'd be surprised how long it takes to write one letter and a 1-page summary). I've also been doodling ideas for a contemporary romance in case M2 doesn't work out. Though M2 has series potential, I don't want to invest the time in it yet without knowing if  it'll be published or not (though rest-assured, I do have brief arc of the whole series in mind).

Oh and lastly, there was a thunderstorn and downpour yesterday and it's raining today! I guess you can't exscape rain in Seattle, even if it is Summer.

Stickin' to it and finishing.

I'm really bad at sticking to one thing and doing it well. I think I get bored easily or maybe I always get excited about something else that I forget about everything else entirely. For example:

Piano? 2 years. Flute? 3 years. Volleyball? 6 years. Soccer? 4 years. Vegan? 30 days. Vegetarian? Approximately 90 days? Pescatarian? 1 year. Competitive running? 1.5 years. Guitar? 5 years. Hot Yoga? 3 months. Boxing? 2 months.

What does this have to do with anything Michelle?

Well, because I have a difficult time staying passionate about one thing, it makes it really difficult for me to finish anything. And this is a real big problem because writing a novel takes commitment and time.

I wrote the first and second draft of M2 in like 5 months. But when it came to draft three I finished 2/3 of it in a month, and then just stopped writing for two months. I crashed and burned. I was just falling out of love with the story and feeling burnt out. And the more distance I put between myself and finishing draft three, the more anxious I was starting to become about getting back to it.

Source: caffeineglaore (tumblr)

I binge read to cope, but in the back of my mind all I kept thinking about is whether or not I'd finish.

Then my YA workshop class ended. I had been using the class as an excuse for not writing, but now that it finished I really had no excuses, did I? Work was finally starting to slow down, and now I had three-day weekends for the summer. If I was going to finish, this was the time to do it.

So I settled my hiney down and finished the last third of draft 3 in a week.

Let me repeat that: one friggin week.

All this time I was so anxious and worked up when really it would just take a week. Draft three isn't perfect and what not, but the point is I finished it. It really put into perspective for me that finishing something isn't so scary. That it's possible to finish things as long as you keep trudging forward. And that sometimes a break (like a crash and burn) is needed to get you right back where you left off.

It really just makes me want to laugh that I was so worked up about it. Anyone ever feel that way?

The past is just a story.

Those who know me, know that I am a very nostalgic person. I could sit for hours just delving into my past memories or read old journals and still be captivated by what happened to the young girl I used to be. But sometimes there are things I don't ever want to remember, things I want to sweep under the rug and pretend they never existed. But the thing is, they did, and I shouldn't hide from it because the past is just a story, it doesn't define me. Though it may shape the present, it has no control over me.

Truth time?

I am overly self-conscious and very insecure about myself.

In my college years it took a toll on me, mentally and physically, to the point of obsession and self-harm. It absorbed me inside and out, and dictated how I lived my life. It was torture, yet it gave me some sort of sick control. I kept it in like a secret, or rather a morbid promise to myself.

I'm not sure what fueled it. Perhaps it was rejection, the fear of being disliked, or maybe self isolation. Or a combination of everything. Every time a pair of eyes fell on me, I felt like they were judging, analyzing, and critisizing. It didn't matter if I was kind, intelligent, or passionate. The superficial eyes wouldn't see those things. They could only see the image painted and etched into my skin.

I'll admit it. I fell prey to the media's standards of beauty instead of recognizing my own inner beauty. It was only until the promise had been too much and was unsustainable that I gave up. But the failure only propelled me in a different direction of self punishment.

And this whole time, I never thought I had a problem. It seemed like nothing compared to other cases that were more dire and severe, but I was wrong. I thought that it would run its course and I could simply sweep it under the rug as life went on, but now I know I can't.

So when life started to get better, the more I buried the problem. I edited my life, cutting myself off from negativity, breaking up with the boyfriend who wanted to 'fix me',  threw away others expectations and pursued what made me happy, and peeled off the person I was trying to be and stepped into myself.

That year, the only thing I wanted more in the world was to love myself.

At the end of my junior year in college, my sister took me to Paris. I've idolized Paris since I was a child. To me the city was a fairytale come true, and the Eiffel Tower my prince charming. I am a hopeless romantic. I believe love is everything. Love for family. Love for friends. Love for others. Love for the things you do. It makes the world go round. So when I saw the Eiffel Tower, this icon of love, for the first time, I realized that I did love myself. It was just so hard to get there because I was listening to everyone else and their opinions instead of listening to myself.

Flash forward to now. Life has been great to me. But a few nights ago Michael said something so normal, so harmless, yet the choice of words triggered the problem that I buried long ago. Like a tidal wave it crashed into me. All of a sudden I burst into tears and all of the horrible emotions I once felt bombarded me as I was suddenly brought back to the young girl in college hiding the morbid promise. It was a side of me I never wanted Michael to see.

But he did. He was there for me. And he still loves me nonetheless, just as I am. Nothing more and nothing less. And I too love myself just as I am.

To this day, I am still self-conscious and insecure, but I will never let it dictate how I live my life anymore. I had buried this for a long while, but I know I can't just sweep this under the rug anymore if it can still effect me now.

I wrote this more for my benefit than for your reading pleasure, because it's time I finally own up to it and realize that the past is just a story. It may shape my future, but it certainly doesn't define my present.

On a final note, I would also like to reshare a poem I wrote in my last quarter of college, called Vanity's Downfall.