Of Growth and Noveling

In 2008, when I was some now forgotten grade in high school, I stumbled upon NaNoWriMo. If you haven’t the foggiest what that is, NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), is a month long challenge where you try to write the rough draft of a novel (50,000 words) in 30 days. If you hit that word goal, you win serious bragging rights and have a finished draft of a novel. I won that first year, with a story I had been working on since I was twelve.

Fast-forward to now. I’ve been working on said story off and on for just under twenty years. Writing that sentence makes me feel much older than I actually am, which brings us back to NaNoWriMo.

A blue, white, and gold banner that says “NaNoWriMo 2019 Writer.”

This year NaNo (as we affectionately call it) turns twenty. It seems appropriate that I’m doing a story I’ve been working on almost as long as NaNo is old. It’s been delightful to watch NaNoWriMo become a world wide phenomenon, helping people put down that first draft and help them on their way to publication.

As NaNo has grown, so have I. Blessedly growth is inevitable over the course of seventeen years. And as I’ve grown, so has my story.

When I was twelve, I was idealistic and downright naive. I thought I could write a book that everyone would be allowed to read and want to read. I did my best to make the story a carbon copy of a bestseller-that-shall-not-be-named (brownie points if you catch the reference) and came close to succeeding. When I was thirteen I realized that was called plagiarism and I worked on making something unique. And here we are, sixteen years later. For the twentieth anniversary of NaNoWriMo I’m writing the start of a dark Young Adult fantasy series. A large leap from my typical, but I don’t think I’ve ever been as excited for a story as I am for this one.

Looking at the plot, the world building, the characters, I can still see some of that twelve year-old idealism. And frankly, I like that. There’s that pool of darkness, and within it there’s a drop of hope. That hope comes in the shape of diversity, magic and snark. And of course a fair dose of idealism on the part of some of the characters. But sometimes that’s what you need. A little bit of idealism, a little bit of hope.

That’s the spirit of NaNoWriMo after all. Setting a seemingly impossible goal, coming together, and doing your best. Win or lose (and trust me I’ve failed far more times than I’ve succeeded), the results are beautiful.

A square banner that says “Dedication: 1. What it takes to finish your novel. 2. The place where you’ll expect to see your name in your writing buddies’ published novels.”

By the time you read this I’ll be four days into the madness and joy that NaNoWriMo gives me. If you’d like to know more about what I’m writing and get cryptic hints, you should mosey on over to my Instagram or Facebook page. If you’re one of the many doing NaNo this year I would love to learn about what you’re working on and toss some encouragement your way! After all, learning about other’s writing projects is half the fun.

Whatever your goal is, to read more, to write a novel, or just survive the month, I’m rooting for you. We’ve got this.

Dear Reader,

If you’ll give me a moment to be more honest than I’m comfortable being, I think you’ll find it worth your while. Especially if you’re interested in my writing and what the future holds in that respect. Even if you’re here mostly for the book reviews (and I won’t be upset in the least if you are! I would take it as a complement), I hope you’ll find this at the very least entertaining.

The name "A. E. Moseley" is written in a silver white text, tree branches coming from the "A", "M, and "Y". On top of the letters, in the center, is a crow.

As you can see I have new logo design. Obviously, I have to take this opportunity to show it off. I absolutely adore it and all its variations (FB , Twitter , and Instagram all sport the new logo). Whimsical, mysterious, and dark, it truly touches on everything I want and need it to. The team at Deranged Doctor Design did a brilliant job capturing the essence of my current work and long term creative goals.

But I digress. I promised to be honest and to talk about my writing.

I have always loved the darkness. Even so, it took time for me to learn that the darkness wasn’t to be feared. That it adds beauty to life. The darkness is our shadow, the shade of the trees. It helps the moon and stars shine more brightly, it lulls us to sleep at night. The darkness does not hurt us, it is what is in the darkness that is to be feared. If you have ever stepped on a Lego barefooted in the dark, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

But I was always encouraged to be interested in other things. Polite things, less morbid things. After all, as a child, and to this day, I’m a kind and optimistic person. My interests by and large clash with my personality, or so I’ve been told.

And when you are told things enough, lies or otherwise, eventually it becomes hard to ignore those words. And so I held back. And back. And back.

I’m quite done with all of that. I am no longer holding myself back. It is not fair to myself and it’s certainly not fair to my readers. After all, if I’m holding back, I’m limiting the stories that I can and want to tell. Considering the fact that I write to give back, to give back to the writers who have indirectly healed and helped me through their works, by writing my own stories so that others may grow and heal, well to hold back is unacceptable.

I still adore the stories I have written previously. They have taught me so much and I will certainly finish the Secrets of the Lion series (although if I’m honest, it’s giving me a bit of trouble at the moment, hopefully my other works will inspire the final story in that series). But, they only touch on what I want to explore.

For many years I have wanted to expand my writing. Go deeper, darker, edgier. Life is full of sharp edges and jagged rocks. It’s filled with seemingly bottomless pits and black nights. I want to explore that. Not for the shock value, but because that’s true of life. Jagged rocks can be gems, the bottomless pits do indeed end and lead to the most extraordinary of places. And of course, we all know that the darker the night, the brighter the moon and stars. There is a beauty in the darkness. I want to try to express that in my writing.

I’m so very excited for the future. I’m already working with close friends to expand what I bring to you, in both my stories and other outlets. The book reviews and blog posts are not going away. I will simply be adding on to what I already do.

I hope you take this as an invitation. I hope you decide the darkness is worth exploring with me, that through exploring the darkness we can learn to love the light all the more. Whatever the reason that brought you here, thank you. Thank you for your time and your curiosity. May we always find something beautiful and appealing, even in the darkest of moments. And may we never hold ourselves back.

A Long Short Month

The month of February found me curled up in bed with either a trashcan or a box of tissues nearby. My glorious plans of a timely post and finishing chapter four of my current project were thoroughly dashed by drain on my inspiration, a stomach bug, and a week later, the flu. Needless to say, for such a short month, February was a long one for me.

And yet, it wasn’t an entirely unproductive month.

I got ready for Read An E-Book week by putting my books on sale on Smashwords. Two of my stories are on sale this week (March 3rd-9th) : Of Secrets, Letters, and Lions is free, and the sequel Of Secrets and Sound is half off at $0.99.

I also came to an odd realization. The more ill I am, the more inspired I become. Maybe it’s the fever induced dreams, or maybe it’s because I do so little aside from lying in bed and letting my mind wander. In an odd stroke of inspiration I decided to go back and edit what I had of my current project.

Although I’m still editing (it’s near impossible to edit when one is running a fever), the idea to go back and work on what I had has really worked for me. I also decided to share a bit of my editing process on Instagram. But now I want to share more details. While writing is a solitary experience, it’s more fun when parts of the journey are shared.

Three papers are on stone tile, each paper is labeled from bottom to top "2nd draft: Chapter one" "1st draft: Chapter one" and "Chapter one". The topmost paper has many notes written on it. On top of the papers are three books, each related to thrillers, psychology, or murder.

My editing process consists of me reading through the chapter and making notes in different colors. In this case blue was what I wanted to add, and purple was what I needed to change. Once that’s done, I go back and I read over my edits. If it doesn’t flow the way I like, I edit my edits. Eventually I’m satisfied and type it up.

I was pretty content to keep going forward with my second draft. But I’ll repeat the process quite a few times before I release this into the wild. Regardless, I’m looking forward to it. I love writing, the pouring out of words, but I also love editing. I love carving away what’s not needed and getting closer to how I envision the book.

Of course, if I’m sharing this picture from my Instagram, then clearly there’s a reason I chose those books to star in the picture. The three books (Zodiac by Graysmith, Outliers by Gladwell, and The Tattooed Girl by Burstein, De Keijzer, Holmberg), all touch on elements in my WiP. While there are no serial killers, there’s obsession, mystery, powerful people, and a darkness that I haven’t touched on in my other works. In a way that makes the book easier to write. There’s no limits, except my own. On the other hand, it’s more difficult. How far can I push myself? How do I write about very real, very dark topics, with respect? Like any story, it’s a journey, and despite some lingering sniffles, I’m quite enjoying it.

This is Not a New Year’s Post

I promised myself I wouldn’t write a New Year’s post. This is largely because I don’t celebrate the holiday. Taking stock at New Year’s has never made sense to me personally. I’ve always had other ways to track my goals and progress. I’m also rather private about those sorts of things. After all, my heart and my goals are my own. I figure it will all come to light when I’m ready to share.

I am happy with where I am. After many years I’ve become fearless in what I want to read and write. I’m not afraid to put a book down if I don’t enjoy it, and I certainly am in no competition with myself or others to write a certain genre or write at a certain pace.

If I have any bookish goals at all for this year, it would be to finally read Lord of the Rings. There is little else more appealing to me than a thick book, especially when it’s high fantasy. Currently I’m reading a chapter a night. It’s a lovely way to end the night…usually. It’s slightly less appealing when I dream I’m being chased by Ringwraiths.

Of course I can’t talk about books without talking about writing. I’ve always loved exploring the darker side of life. I’m more fearlessly embracing this side of myself and channeling it into my writing. Of course the Secrets of the Lion series is not all sunshine and roses, but my current project is quite different from anything I’ve written thus far. For one, it’s darker, and for another, it takes place in modern times. It’s also a novel. I’m in the earliest stages of it, only a few chapters in, but I am in love with this story. As the year goes on I’ll be sharing more about it, but for now, let’s just call this foreshadowing.

The Most Frenzied Time of the Year

Ah yes. November. Thoughts turn to Christmas shopping, and a good number of us Americans start thinking about Thanksgiving. Yet if you stand close to a writer there’s a fair chance you’ll see furrowed brows and a distracted look. Not to mention that undeniably distinctive smell of adrenaline and anxious longing. Clearly they aren’t thinking about presents and turkey. But you can’t blame us for that. After all, it’s November.

It’s time for NaNoWriMo: National Novel Writing Month.

NaNo-2018-Writer-Facebook-Cover

But For those of you not familiar with it, the idea is to write 50,000 words in thirty days–the standard size of most novels. If you win, you’ll come out with a draft of a novel and serious bragging rights. By the time you read this, we’ll already be five days in. Ideally by the end of today, we writers will have at least 8,337 words under our belt. Some of us (like me) will be behind, some of us will be on target, and some of us will be miles ahead. But we’ll all be having fun doing what we love. Writing.

Some people swear by NaNoWriMo, and others decry it saying you can’t get anything beyond trash if you try to write a novel in a month. Of course, both sides claim the other is spouting rubbish.

Then there’s me, firmly in the middle.

When I first ventured into the depths of NaNoWriMo in 2009, I won. What I came out with was…rubbish. To be fair, I was young, I had little to no experience with novel writing, and yes, I was quite idealistic. That idealism worked wonders for me while writing, but I was under the impression that I could bang out a draft and it would be set to go to the presses. Like I said, I was young.

I put my novel aside when November was over and pulled it out a few months later.

I was mortified. Oh, the idea was good. But any reader will tell you plot alone won’t save a story. My characters and dialogue had me baffled in places. It was too hard to tell who was who if I didn’t constantly name them, simply because I didn’t flesh out the characters enough. To be so confused by one’s own writing is quite embarrassing.

And yet, I still have that draft. Off and on for the past nine years, I’ve been doing the world building, the character sheets, and creating a full on outline for the book and the series it will be a part of.

I’ve participated in NaNoWriMo nearly every year after that, although I’ve only ever won one other time. But I’ve never considered those times a loss. I’ve come to find that no matter how awful the writing is, you still come away with something. Each time I’ve learned more about writing, myself, and my local writing community.

But the goal of NaNoWriMo isn’t to get to 50,000 words or to even come out with a workable draft at the end of it all. The goal is to enjoy writing. To take the time as often as you can to write. To push yourself and your story forward. There’s no shame in not “winning.” You tried. You decided to take a chance. And heaven knows, there’s no shame in saying that this year there’s no way you can hold on to your  mental and physical health and write that much. The goal is to have fun, to write, and to take care of yourself in the process.

I personally think that anyone interested in writing and those who want to make it part of their lives (whether publishing their writing or work in the publishing industry) should give it a go. After all, the greatest adventure is to take a chance on yourself.

 

 

On Birds and Writer Blocks

The weather where I am is nice. When I’m not nearly drowning in all the rain that is. Yesterday was a lovely day though. Sunny, humid, but with a wind at just the right moments. It was a good day.

Namely because I got to hold a bird. Now I live in a house with many windows, in the middle of the woods. Birds tend to see their reflection in the windows, think it’s a bird invading their territory then charge, slamming into the window and sometimes stunning themselves. In this case a female goldfinch landed on her back, too stunned to right herself. I went outside and righted her, a towel and container for her to rest in at the ready.

Screen Shot 2018-06-03 at 8.58.59 PM
Female juvenile goldfinch; allaboutbirds.org

Usually if a bird is stunned, I set them right, make sure nothing bothers them, but leave them alone to let them recover.

This time around nature changed my plans. I picked her up, and tried to place her in the blanket so she could rest, but she would not let go of my fingers. I never realized that birds could hold on to something that tightly with such small and spindly legs. I sat with the bird for ten or so minutes, studying her. Letting her poop on my hand, look around, and recuperate. I didn’t think it was possible to bond with an animal in such a short time. But by the time the little one flew off I had a sense of peace that’s stuck with me ever since.

In a way, I felt the bird’s accident was a nice parallel to how I feel when I’m hit with writer’s block. I’m startled, not quite sure if my head is on right. I can see where I want to go, but can’t actually get there. My usual bout of writer’s block is not a lack of ideas, but too many ideas mushed together with the uncomfortable need to write something I don’t have an idea for.

Writer’s block is probably the most dangerous part of being a writer. It can be terrifying. The want and need to create is deeply ingrained. And then to feel as if we can’t access that part of ourselves? Sometimes writer blocks (or other creative blocks) can last for years. But it’s not the end. I’ve seen people stop writing for years, then start it up again, stronger and better at it than ever.

Writing is a solitary thing, but it doesn’t have to be a lonely one. Isolation can only help one so much. Self care, friends who take part in creative activities, and taking time to explore (however you feel you explore best), can lead to getting back on your feet.

And of course, sometimes, you just gotta let the crap out before you take off. Rant, rave, throw a hissy fit at a wall, whatever it takes. But get the bad stuff out, then start slowly moving forward.

It’s something I’ve noticed when I’ve helped a bird after they’ve run into a window. Once they’re ready to fly they leave a parting gift (thanks, but ew), and fly off. Just a little ways. But within a couple of minutes of their first flight, they’re flying like nothing happened. It happens every time. It’s a good philosophy.

Being stuck is always a struggle. It can last for a brief time, or for years. My most recent bout was for a couple of months, although I went through a block for a period of years. I’ve seen it happen with my other writer friends too.

I guess all of us need to be a little bit of a goldfinch. Get the crap out and fly off to the next adventure.