The book I never forgot

When I was about nine or ten I saw this book in a book store and the cover just called to me.  Girl in the ocean with a dolpin jumping over her head.  Sold!  Don't ask me why exactly.  I've always had a thing for marine mammals.  I've always had a thing for girls who look magical.  And even though there's nothing in this photo that screams that, I somehow just got this from the cover.  When I finally read the book I was right about it too.

My first attempt at this novel was a fail.  I was a bit too young, I think, and the prologue explains this deep mythology of the novel in a lot of detail that I couldn't wrap my brain around at that age.

Then I read the whole thing when I was twelve.  Then I read it again.  This means something because I AM NOT good at re-reading books.  I'm the same way with movies.  But this book I absolutely loved.  It had everything I wanted: a strong female protagonist, a new world, a journey to another new world, romance.  Then most of all, the relationship between the main character, Sand, and her dolphin friend, M'ridan.

When I turned thirteen my world changed.  I didn't want to read.  I didn't want to do much of anything except maybe dance (I was dancing at this time in my life) and most of all, hang out with my friends.  I still read the books I had to for school but that was it.

Still, through all that time this book stayed with me.  When I would write in my journal as a teen, play around with short stories or dream one day of writing books, I would always come back to Strandia. It imprinted itself inside me and when I look now it's still there.

The interesting thing is that when I finally read this book as an adult, about seven years ago, I didn't love it like I did before.  I've got my BFA in creative writing/English Lit since, I'd read a lot more, and I guess there were things about the pace of the novel that jarred me.  I felt there was a lot more telling than showing.

I was surprised, but not upset, because this whole experience taught me a valuable lesson about writing stories.  It taught me that a book can still move you if it has all your favourite ingredients, even if it isn't prepared as well as it could have been.

That's not to say that Susan Lynn Reynolds (author) didn't do a lot of things right in this novel where the writing was concerned (the book won the Young Adult Canadian Book Award).  What I'm suggesting is sort of another example of what I talked about in the last blog.

I don't believe in destiny, but I do believe that you attract things to you and certain things will will show up in your life to teach you a lesson when it needs to be learned, to speak to you when you need to listen. You may not learn the lesson until years later, but the universe knows what it's doing.


One thing I've learned, despite how I feel about Strandia now compared to then, is that I'd be a different writer had I not read this book.  I'd have written something else instead of this.

That's the next draft ready to be read.  And maybe it will never be published.  Maybe it will never see more than the few readers I'm giving it to now.  What matters is that I'm not giving up on writing and even if it takes me another ten years to publish something and another ten novels, what I've written here will inform everything else after, just like what I read does.  Strandia included.

I'm off to Hawaii for some work next week and will have some fun pics when I return.  In the meantime, why not think about some of the people, books, art that has informed your life?  Where would you be without it?  And why did the universe choose to show it to you exactly when it did?  I think it's a question we can all ask ourselves about every single thing that appears in our life, a lot more than we do.

The X-Factor isn't just for singers

As heartbreaking as it is for all us writers out there, a poorly written book has a chance of becoming a best-seller as much as a well-written book does.  Yup, that's right.

Before I elaborate there, I think it's good to think about what a poorly written book is.  These days, with people communicating through LOLs and LMFAOs and TTYLs and such a wide range of emoticons you can express yourself with this, a book that's written like poop takes on whole new meaning.


I could go on for a while about the North American education systems, and the writing skills of high school graduates, but that's another post, no sorry, another blog.  So when the bulk of the population doesn't know — and more importantly, doesn't care — what an adverb is, or passive voice, or a spelling mistake, well then that gives a lot of power to people who don't write clean, or have a commanding grasp of the English language, but can tell a story.


So let's think about what story-telling is.  You can have your voice, your technique, your structure, action and dialogue, a great character arc for a character that may even seem likeable. You can build tension and deliver a great reveal. In fact, you can have all of these things and then write the book well, using gorgeous turns of phrase, original description and not a grammar mistake to be found. Still, you may not have a best seller even then.


Now I'll say it again: a poorly written book has a chance of becoming a best-seller as much as a well-written book does. Why? To put it in the words of Simon Cowell, it's because of the X-Factor.

Just like one dancer can execute all the right moves, with superb technical skill, and fail at winning an audience, another dancer without a day of training can win the heart of every single person in the room. Why? Because of the X-factor. And you either got it or you don't, sugar.


Because writing is a literary pursuit, I think that often it's not compared enough to performing and then we all miss this very important point.


The irony of the X-factor though, I think, is that as much as you can be born with a certain talent, you can also loose it. So you can perhaps not be born with something and somehow gain it. My guess is that this probably has to do something with how much you believe in yourself, how hard you work, and how much love you can put in to what you do.

Now don't throw away your Strunk and White because you think you've got the X-factor. You may only have a teeny little x. But if you equip yourself with all the right tools, work hard, put everything you've got into it, then maybe your X will grow bigger and bigger.

Or, you can have a dream about girl and a vampire talking in the woods and six months later, with no previous writing experience, have a book deal and be on your way to selling millions of copies.

Moving on up

I finished my draft a week ago Friday and then about an hour later Tom and I were on our way to Laguna Beach for a writer's gig I had that conveniently coincided with our two years married.  It felt so unbelievably amazing to celebrate the end of this draft on the beach with my love!

After we got back I actually spent the whole week cleaning up the first five chapters of my draft.  There's still a lot I want to change but I'm forcing myself to keep away from it because before I do that, it's time for the thing to be read, by somebody else, all the way through.  

I happen to be one of the luckiest writers on earth because my aunt is also a writer.  And she's not just any writer, but this fabulous, extremely talented, gorgeous writer.  Her latest book, actually about our family, is coming out soon.  She's read some of it to me already and it's going to be fantastic!  Scroll down the link for her full bio.  

So my amazing aunt, and dear friend, has agreed to read my draft.   I know she'll have great feedback that will help me make this book better and so when I tackle this draft the next time I can go in and make changes based not only on what I think needs to change.  My head has been in the draft so long I doubt I have any objectivity left at the moment (if I ever did).  I'm nervous as hell to give it to her, because I look up to her so, but at the same time I wouldn't want this read to be for anyone else.

So what to do now?  There's that thing I said I'd do.  And with six months left, I better get on it.  Except, my instinct is sort of leading me in a different direction....so what I think I'll do next is spend the rest of the week writing something completely different, just for fun.  Then next week I'll get my outlines of Book Two and Three in better shape.  Then...I'm off to Hawaii.  Part Travelweek gig, part writer's gig.  Its my fifth time there and I love it more every time...so stay tuned for pics from that!

Now for my next post....enough of these updates I say!  Who cares where I am now, where I'm going.  You've heard about it enough and frankly, I'm sick of thinking about it.  So next time I'll be writing about something I think about a lot when it comes to writing books.  My take on a long-standing argument that relates to novels such as Fifty Shades of Grey and Twilight (and really every other novel in the universe, if that makes sense).

So thanks folks for bearing with me so far!  Thanks for caring, to those of you who do.  And thanks to my husband for his unwavering faith and encouragement.  If it wasn't for him I would have given up writing this draft two weeks ago (let's just say I had a moment).  The pic above is one of the orchids on the orchid plant he brought home last Tuesday for our anni.  Two of my favourite colours and since last week it's started to bloom like crazy!  Love to you all!  

Finished!!

Made it!  Made it!  Made it!  

Half way in

This Sunday will be six months since I started this blog, six months since the day I proclaimed to the web that I will finish drafts of three novels in one year

I'm not going to lie about anything here, I'm not going to avoid owning up to where I am because maybe it's not where I thought I'd be.  Instead am opting for honesty.  It's who am.  It's gotten me in trouble before and I'm sure will again, but I hope right now that maybe it won't.

By the middle of April I was ten chapters away from finishing the third draft of book one in the trilogy. I was whizzing through it and feeling great.  If you've been reading this blog you know what happened next.  I won't spare you with the details.  They were all great things, of course.  Experiences, visits, jobs I am grateful for, but it did take me away from writing.  Between mid-April and the week before last I finished two chapters, which brought me down to eight left.  Then if you read my last blog you know I decided I needed to make a change in the draft that took me back into rewrites of a few chapters already written.  I just finished those rewrites now.

So I've still got eight chapters left, maybe seven.  I'll finish them in a week from now if I'm really lucky.  Otherwise I'll finish them the week after.

That gives me just under six months to write two novels from scratch.  Can I do it? Yes, I can do anything!!  Will I do it?  Time will tell.

The main thing I want to tell you all is that I'm not giving up.  I'm going to do my absolute best to get as much of this trilogy done this year as I possibly can.  But IF, for some reason, I don't make this self-imposed deadline, I am going to be happy with however much I've completed.  No, not happy.  I'll be over-the-moon, insanely proud, elated, rave-dance excited.  Why?  Because I will have given it my absolute all.  I will have lots more done than I ever thought I would get done in those dark, cold moments at the bottom of a pitiful mood.

That's the point isn't it?  Journey, not the destination.  I recall saying something along these lines before: Not just about this year, but all years.... Not just about a year of greatness, a year of love, but a lifetime.  

And then one day I will be finished this trilogy.  And hopefully one day some people will read it and hopefully those people will feel at least some of the love I put in.  Then, even if they do or if they don't, it will be on to the next thing.  That next journey, the next book, the next year.

I'm possible

So I've been writing away and I realize there's a major rewrite I need to do to the ending.  Well, I don't need to do it but I feel it's the right thing.  It's putting pressure on me because I just want to get this draft finished.  But more than that I want it to be the best draft it can be.  Maybe it means I won't make my July 6th deadline, but nothing's impossible.  Just like Audrey Hepburn says:

Getting there

This is what I looked like the minute I got home from Disneyland last Thursday, minus the whiskers.

It was the end of two months of insanity that started in mid-April.  In between then and now I had visitors to LA, covered three travel events, visited two other countries, which included my first visit home, and saw a bajillion people.  Yes, you read that correctly, a BAJILLION!  And all of it culminated last week as I raced down Route 66 at 7:00 a.m without coffee or breakfast, while cars smiled and spoke to me and winked.    

And as you know, I've got eight chapters left to write of this #@#$%# draft.  And boy does it feel like that kind of draft today!  I've spent the last three days just getting my head back into it.  And you know what, this @#^&#*# draft has some coherency, I must admit.  It's terribly over written, but that's fixable, right?

Now I'm giving myself a deadline to get these next eight chapters done (a secret source told me it will really only be seven chapters but we'll see how that goes).

I'm revealing this deadline to the world so someone out there will banish me to the darkest, coldest place beyond The Wall of the Seven Kingdoms (yes, I'm reading Game of Thrones) if I don't make it.  Do you think someone will do that for me?  If so, my deadline is July 6th.

Of course, as usual, I spent a good chunk of my time today beating myself up for dilly-dallying in chapters already written and wondering if the villain in my novel should in fact be a dragon (damn you Game of Thrones!).

BUT even after all that, I have started writing again.  I AM getting there.  And I will get there.  On July 6th.

As for all the other things going Lightening McQueen through my busy mind, like how I'd really enjoy a larger income, how I really want to do a five-day juice cleanse, get some more writing gigs, loose ten pounds and run and do yoga every single day, meditate, decorate my apartment, go to New York with my sisters to see the Newsies on broadway, and visit Thailand, and all of this in 2012 (This is the year, isn't it?).  Well, I'll just have to put that all aside for now and do the only thing I can do, what I've been telling myself over and over and so will again here and now:  Trust the process of life, be grateful for it.