Books are like Bananas? Where is this post going? Srsly.

*pokes head around corner* Um, hi. Alexis here. It's been a while. *grins sheepishly* Sorry 'bout that.

Life has been... well... life. Which has kept me from writing. Which in turn has kept me from posting because, hey, what could I say? "Oh, hey guys! Still not writing. Too busy trying to round up the marbles of my life which I've dropped all over the hardwood floor. Sorry I'm not inspiring! See y'all later!" Not really gonna cut it.

But just because I haven't written lately doesn't mean I haven't been creative. So I guess that's a stupid excuse. In fact, I've amped up my creativity quite a lot, especially in the last few months.

Tucker being ridiculously adorable.

I'm still doing my book "reviews" over at Witty Title Here. {With the new year came a new photo look and process, but of course I still get my feathery helpers to join in when they can}.  [RIGHT]

But you may not know that I've also started an Etsy store with my latest endeavor: hand-lettered typography. Most days, I spend my lunch hours sketching, and my evenings inking the sketches onto nice paper. [BELOW]

*FOR MORE INFO SEE BOTTOM OF POST

Lately, my evenings have been given over to finally, finally decorating and organizing my house and to refinishing the desk I finally bought for my office. Srsly y'all, you have no idea how long I've suffered without a desk and just how much chaos it has created in my home.   

The "cleanest" part of my office.

In my office alone, none of the art is hung. [RIGHT] Boxes flood the floor {because I have no storage}, all my art supplies and gadgets and computer and monitor are littering other parts of my house where I can use them since my office is pretty much just a storage shed/library. My books are only so organized on my shelves because they are sharing space with random objects and picture frames that have nowhere else to sit. It's driving me insane.

So, right now, my priorities have shifted to finishing the desk, getting it out of the garage -- where my husband can then move all his shit that clutters the house {it's a vicious cycle}-- and the house can maybe not be such a source of clutter in my mind.

Which is an exciting prospect. Because when my surroundings are in chaos, my mind is, too.  {Spent an entire Sat. sanding all of this, btw}.



Needless to say, with all that going on, I haven't really been focused on the writing aspect of my life. I haven't forgotten or abandoned it... just... haven't focused my energies there. I think it was much needed. In truth, things had been a little depressing for me in the fall/winter. I stopped sending out queries/synopses/etc in August, but got a continuous trickle of rejections through about November.

To be fair, there were many positive rejections. {One in particular, which came out of the blue a couple months after I'd stopped expecting to get any more responses, actually ended up meaning a lot to me because I was having a really rough week when I got it. And even though it was a rejection, it made me feel a little better}. [RIGHT]





But when something you truly believe in continues to give you almost nothing of real encouragement/positivity in return for years of devotion and effort, no matter how hard you try to change things, the veil of hope begins to wear thin. Especially when so many agents found it promising but, ultimately, not fresh enough. I'm convinced that this is the worst possible feedback you can get on a manuscript. How? How do you fix that? Srsly. It's very disheartening.

...And yet, I'm just the most stubborn person ever, usually clinging to optimism against my better judgement. {But that often pays off, so of course, it reinforces my desire to do so}. So even when I don't work on it for months, or give it really any shelf space in my daily thoughts, I continue to think of ways to fix it. Most are written off before they've completely formed. Other ideas swirl in my head for weeks before I voice them, and then realize how unhelpful they are. Yet I carry on. Why? Because my greatest flaw is my stubborn refusal to give up hope. Yes. Flaw. This flaw has got me in any number of situations where I suffer far more than I ought, and where most people would just give up. But oh, no. Not me. No, I'd rather spend seven years on the same book because I know it's worth not giving up on. And it's not like I'm being unreasonable. It's not a bad book. It's actually really good. People love the characters, they love the world, they enjoy the writing and the story... it's just not... Well, okay, it's like this:

You've got a bunch of bananas. They're ripe and bright and yellow and delightful. They are the best things you've ever tasted. But by the end of the week they aren't quite as bright. A little brown is creeping in. They're the same bananas you wanted on Monday, but by Friday, you've gotten used to the taste. You know these will be just as good, but it's not like you haven't had several like it before. Like, all week. You can actually taste them by memory without opening one up, and you decide to pass. You want a fresher one. So, at this point. my manuscript is sortof, to agents, like the bananas on Friday. Is it just the newest freshest plot ever? No. Is it still satisfying? I'd like to think so. But here's where my stubborn determination to not give up kicks in:

Not my photo. Totally grabbed this off the internet.

Wait another week and those bananas have finally reached the perfect ripeness for just the most fantastic banana bread ever. Yes, the bananas are mushy. No, they don't seem like something you wanna snatch off the shelf and devour. But add a few ingredients and give it some time... and you've got something devourable after all.


So I guess what I'm saying is: to me, my manuscript isn't bananas on Friday. My manuscript is banana bread. I just have to find the right ingredients and then give it some time. It will be fresh when the time is right. Maybe not in the same way as a ripe banana, but still devourable... still leaving you wanting more.

Anyway, that's the short version of where I've been and what I've been up to. I hope, if nothing else, you were entertained, and that maybe your life will seem easier and calmer in comparison to mine ;)

*Profits from ATYPeICAL are used to pay for the desk, art supplies, writing supplies, and books. Basically, if you buy my stuff, you're helping to sustain my creativity... and my sanity. So... please decorate your home and keep me sane!

Something Clever

I've wanted so badly to write something clever.

I read so many great blogs and I always wonder how do those writers keep it fresh, keep it going? How do YOU amazing bloggers keep all the contributors engaged and productive? Most impressively, how dost thou keep a single contributor going, going, going... especially when that individual is wholly aware that one's readers are imaginary friends?

It's no secret the luster and excitement behind the Inside the Pod posts has waned, dulled, dare I say... come to a screaming halt. I accept responsibility. I'm at least one third culpable. By that measure, I should at the very least post once every three weeks, right? I just haven't had any idea what to write. I wanted to make my fellow peas proud of the work I would do in their absence. And it's not very fun doing Game Pods alone. It just makes me sad that no one can come out to play. 

Then I was struck with a five part heart-squeezing realization...
A) My twenty year high school reunion is next year... which means time is passing at an alarming rate
B) A waiter told me I had a Thai-shaped head on my 16th wedding anniversary
C) I had a mind-blowing dream revelation that what my broken WIP needs is DRUGS as a plot line
D) I was mistaken for a man at the grocery store and will have a long conversation with my therapist Monday morning.
 ...Then Finally
E) I have logged text message conversations with A and J this week that include discussions of both French Toast Warfare and Tuna High Fevers.

No blog posts? No excuses.

When those three silly and ambitious writer girls set out to begin the Ninja Pea Blog, they never for a minute took themselves seriously. The whole point was random writerly related posts. The pod is information sharing, having fun with our writer friends and supporting them, and having a silly time. If someone got a laugh or a morsel or two of useful information...lagniappe. To quote THE Joker... Why so serious?

Somehow as the Peas got busy and I had this notion to continue alone, I felt I had to hone and forge amazing and clever words with eternal meaning.

What the hell was I thinking?

For goodness sake! There are three anthropomorphized peas in ninja masks on the banner of this blog. I've been taking myself way too seriously.

So that's where I am today. I'm inspired to get back in touch with the random-slightly-writerly-mostly-silly-and-misdirected-author-supportive-everything-we-love-blog that Inside the Pod was meant to be. And maybe... just maybe... if I can keep this thing on life support, the Peas will unsprout and return. Bare with me. This might get bumpy. But I hope I can lure a few readers back. I might even think of something clever.

Peas, Love, and Randomness
M

Alexis Read A Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake}

Alexis Read A Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake}

Alexis Read A Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {The Flame Alphabet by Ben Marcus}

Alexis Read A Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {Thresholds by Nina Kiriki Hoffman}

Alexis Read A Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {Me and Earl and the Dying Girl by Jesse Andrews}

Alexis Read {smutty} Books ...{and she's ashamed}

New review up at Witty Title Here! {Fifty Shades of Grey, Fifty Shades Darker, Fifty Shades Freed by E.L. James}

Alexis Read a Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {Fake Mustache: Or, How Jodie O'Rodeo and Her Wonder Horse (and Some Nerdy Kid) Saved The U.S. Presidential Election From a Mad Genius Criminal Mastermind by Tom Angleberger}

Alexis Read a Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {The Pregnancy Project: a memoir by Gaby Rodriguez with Jenna Glatzer}

Alexis Read a Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {I Am an Executioner: Love Stories by Rajesh Parameswaran}

Alexis Read a Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {The Damned Busters by Matthew Hughes}

Alexis Read a Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {The Aviary by Kathleen O'Dell}

Alexis Read a Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {The Fault in Our Stars by John Green}

Alexis Bares Her Writerly Soul

Today I'm opening myself up. I'm going to share with you a writing process in which I'm currently submerged. I'm sharing the good and the bad... and the embarrassing. This process has been arduous, uplifting, depressing, at times overwhelming. It has taken research, planning, a willful refusal to give up, and a certain inclination toward OCD. The process to which I refer:
Submitting Your Work.

In early March of this year, I completed {for the sixth time... don't judge me} my manuscript. It's something I'm proud of {most days} and something that, despite my best efforts, refuses to let me give up on it. {I've written and re-written it over several years, learning for the first four re-writes, then fixing my mistakes and paying for my hardheadedness for the next two}. I realize that as my first novel its chances for failure are high. But I truly believe it has potential to be something great. I'm passionate about this story, and I believe I'll have readers who feel the same.
My only hurdle? 
Translating that passion into something I can convince agents and editors to invest in.

So, in July 2011, I attended Thrillerfest with my fellow Peas, where I pitched my story to a number of agents. It was an incredibly intense experience.

Now, I'm the first to admit, I can get in my own way when I'm speaking about anything important to me. No matter how much I prepare, no matter how well I know what I want to say, inevitably, in the moment I'm supposed to speak, my emotions go on attack. Nerves build nests in my throat. Adrenaline sparks behind my eyes, short-circuiting my brain so that the message meant to pass to my tongue comes through static, and falls jumbled off my lips. My heart climbs toward the nerve nests like a cat hunting a bird, as an evil voice starts running commentary on scenarios, all negative, of how this will play out. I scramble to ignore all of it -- to remember the wording I worked for hours to perfect in the hope that I can salvage it from the scraps I've already spewed into the open air...

But somehow, on that day, after one or two flubs and desperate scrambles {that still resulted in requests for partials, thankfully} I got my shit together. By the end of the two hours, having seen a total of twelve agents, I had ten requests for pages, and two requests for the full manuscript. It was exciting. Thrilling.
...Terrifying.

I had never had this much success in pitching my book before. I'd submitted queries for version three or four back in 2008, but I'd known they'd fail not long after I sent them out {thanks to the criticisms of members at AbsoluteWrite}. And fail they did. But that was 2008. I'd been through several revisions and one very deep self-relfection-inducing writerly-wake-up-call since then. I know now the importance of a synopsis -- for myself as much as for the pitch -- and how the hell to describe my story in a single paragraph. {And hearing, in person, those Agents' reactions to certain parts of my pitch was a huge help in perfecting it}. And it seemed to make all the difference.

So, in August, after some major polishing to the requested pages {just, ya know, to be sure} I sent off my work to the first ten agents.

Over the next few months, I racked up six rejections. I took it in stride {for the most part}. Each rejection praised my characters, the world I'd created, and, most importantly, my writing.
...With the exception of one, whom I could only describe -- even before the rejection -- as scary and kindof a *insert bad word here*. This agent addressed me as MISTER Lampley, then had the audacity to say I was rejected for my writing, which, based on his excellent attention to detail *I'm being sarcastic* he definitely did not skim *still being sarcastic*. {Like I said, "for the most part"}.

They just couldn't risk a chance on the story because of the market.

Now, I'll be honest, even though I was prepared for rejections, and even though they were {all things considered} really positive ones, I started feeling rather dejected. How do you fix that? Tell me there's a gaping hole in the plot or you hate a character. I can work with that. But how do you fix, "I loved it, but the market..."? I still had a re-working of the end of my book to deal with, but instead of dealing with it, I slumped. Despite my rock-solid conviction {built over years of work and dreams} that I was doing what I love, that the hard work was worth the reward I still couldn't see on the horizon -- I started questioning myself. I let doubt in. And that doubt led to several months of inactivity. I started a couple stories, momentarily filled with the excitement of a new project. But I never got past the first few pages.

And then, on February 28, M sent me an email.
Subject: "Do this!"
Inside was a link to a contest, for which the deadline was just two weeks away. The contest was open to those with a completed manuscript in any genre, hosted by an agent who, I knew, was on my list of potentials. I still had those edits for the last chapters on my to-do list, and wasn't feeling totally confident, given that I would need to go through the entire thing for proofing with M's notes {which she'd nearly finished on the entire manuscript} but I knew the opportunity shouldn't be passed up.

So I asked her the one question I needed to know: "But is my book actually finished?"

To which M responded {in short}:
"Alexis, my writing partner, my dear, my friend. I do this with utter compassion and love.  *slaps you once firmly across the face* Please, wake up!
I mean... you've finished it 212 times!  ...  Make one push through for proofreads -- tighten and clarify just a tad (something you could certainly do by March 15 if you set your mind to it -- I've seen you accomplish much more in shorter time).  ...  And in the immortal words of Jeannie Holmes... Pull your head out of your ass. Trust the story. Trust yourself, and WRITE damn it!"

Whether it was the metaphorical slap in the face, or Michelle's innate confidence in me, or Jeannie's immortal words of writerly wisdom... I did get my head out of my ass and write.

It took almost the full two weeks and one "sick day" to finish the chapters and proof/edit the entire thing, but I did it. And I felt really good. Scared. Nervous. But good. I was once again confident in my ability as a writer. I entered the manuscript into the contest, and, since I'd finally reached the milestone of completion {again}, I sent the manuscript to the two agents who'd requested it at Thrillerfest.

The contest winner has since been announced, and it wasn't me. I've heard back from one of the two agents with my full manuscript, and am waiting, with hope, for the other's response.

In the meantime, with hope for the future but being mindful to stay realistic, I had begun the exhaustive task of writing out my Agent List. I went through my Writer's Digest Guide to Agents {not the actual title} and wrote out all the Agents I could potentially submit to, including what they were looking for and how well that fit with what I wrote, where to contact them, submission guidelines, etc. Though I started the list more than a month ago, I'm still not finished. I wanted to be sure I picked the right agents and agencies for me, so I've been going back through the list, looking up each agency, and gathering more/up-to-date information on each one. It's a time-consuming process. And an interesting study in how quickly my emotions can change. Looking through agency submission guidelines and agent bios has become a reflection of the entire process. One agent bio will have me thinking I'm sure to be exactly what they want. Another will have me thinking my big break will be with that other book I've started. A third will have me questioning why, on earth, I'm even going to all this trouble in the first place.

But if this process has taught me nothing else, it's that this flux of emotion and belief are just that: fluctuations. You're gonna have your ups and downs. It's a roller coaster. And it's up to you to decide if you want to take the ride. No matter how down I get, no matter how hard things are or how bleak my prospects look sometimes, I still want to take that ride. Even if all I gain is the memory of the experience {and a solid metaphorical slap}.


*Peas Out*

Alexis Read a Book

New review up at Witty Title Here! {Twenty Boy Summer by Sarah Ockler}