Angela Yuriko Smith's Blog
May 1, 2015
I’m just now getting into the End of Mae rewrite/edit. One of the comments I’ve had repeatedly is to please extend the story line out. Done. The barebones End of Mae is now 23,000 words. That will fluctuate as I polish it up, but not by much.
To rewrite I’ve divided the entire book, with new material added, into chapters with a copy of the original manuscript. I should be able to breeze through the chapters this way and make sure everything is up to snuff.
Tomorrow I’ll be sitting at Artful Things from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m. as a “celebrity photographer,” in the words of Jennifer Forehand of Serintea, who will be having a Kentucky Derby themed open house there. How could I say no when she called me a celebrity? I will be wearing my favorite fancy hat.
In between photos I plan to catch up on End of Mae and am hoping to get through at least a few chapters during that time. Mr. Smith is off getting certified as a Krav Maga instructor, so I’ll have Sunday to just keeping working (except for a lunch break with a good friend.)
I’m hoping to have it all done and ready to go by the end of this month and ready to celebrate the fifth year of being a published author. That’s the beauty of bing an indie author—I get to make my own deadlines…and sometimes that can work against me.
Here’s a screen shot of the new beginning.
April 30, 2015
I’ve been forgetting to do my celebrate posts the past few weeks. Our wonderful, long time graphic artist moved on to a new job at work, so we’ve been scrambling to fill in the gaps while we replace her (not that we will be able to fully replace her, she is pretty awesome).
That means I now work at a newspaper NOT as a writer/editor for the first time. I am pretty much filling in as production. It’s temporary (I hope!). Learning LOTS of new skills, which has kept me busy. I’m grateful that I pick up on computer skills relatively quickly and that I have a fantastic job.
I still have so much to celebrate though:
Got the scooter up and running. I’ve been riding it everyday, rain and shine, and I love it. I just passed my 100th mile on it and I still haven’t used up my first gallon of gas.
I got a cute new pair of shoes as a gift today. These got passed around the office looking for a new home and I got them—having small feet finally paid off!
I gave up sugar this week and lost four pounds already!
Today’s post is part of the Celebrate the Small Things Blog Hop hosted by Lexa Cain, L.G. Keltner at Writing Off The Edge and Katie at TheCyborgMom. To be part of this blog hop, all you have to do is put your name on the linky list and then post every Friday about something you’re grateful for that week. It can be about writing or family or school or general life. (Originated by VikLit)
April 29, 2015
Carjackers aren’t interested in scooters.
No panic at the pump—up to 144 miles per gallon.
For under $2,000 you can have a new machine with tags and title.
You can wear a skirt and still scooter.
Never worry about parking.
Environmentally friendly way to travel.
Natural air conditioning.
No getting stuck in a traffic jam—there’s always room to turn around.
Stand out from the pack—or, more fun—start a scooter pack.
Riding a scooter is a wonderful way to decompress.
April 28, 2015
That’s the truth about how much authors make. In the last year I’ve clocked around 4 hours a night working on writing. I don’t take weekends off. That’s about 1,460 hours. Divided That means I made about .2 cents an hour for my second career.
I also get around .60 cents a month from the different European markets and I’ve brought in some from book signings. Let’s be generous and estimate that at at another $30. That brings it up to almost .50 cents an hour. As dismal as that seems, that’s not bad income for an indie author. 80% of self published authors make less than $1,000 a year.
These are discouraging statistics for anyone who wants to write their way to riches. Getting a $34.68 check for 1,460 hours is a dismal living. Depressing statistics.
For the writers that feel compelled to write, who would write for free, $34.68 is awesome. It’s not a living, but a confirmation that someone found my words worth something. That’s not a living… it’s living.
April 27, 2015
As National Poetry Month winds down I feel the need to squeeze in a few more verses. While listening to music for a project, these words popped into my head with such an insistent yearning to be born I felt obligated to comply.
I’m not sure what I mean by them, or if they are even my words. I just know I had to write them.
April 26, 2015
Heading to Crab Island!
I can’t remember when I’ve had such a relaxing weekend.
I stayed late Friday to get everything done at the paper so I had not one worry waking up Saturday morning.
I went with Mr. Smith to watch a Taekwondo demonstration he was in and his black belt recommended test. In the downtime I sat in the waiting room and worked on rewriting End of Mae to be republished soon.
Afterwards I spent the afternoon out on a pontoon boat with Mr. Smith and his fellow martial art teachers and went to the infamous Crab Island courtesy of Gilligan’s Island. It was our first time at Crab Island, and an afternoon relaxing on a pontoon was better than a spa for rejuvenation. Dinner at First Choice Buffet was the best Chinese buffet we’d ever been to, also a gift.
Sunday was sleeping in for the first time in months… stayed in bed until 7:30 a.m. at least. Relaxing coffee, watching movies and a shop. Then I tackled a blog issue I was having and fixed it in my FTP directory (I’m still not even sure what that means…), got some mending jobs done and found out some interesting info on Amazon Prime I didn’t know.
You can share your membership with four family members.
They now have a Pandora type radio free for Prime members.
I can check out one ebook a month.
Of course, free two day shipping.
So, for me it was the best weekend I’ve had in ages… relaxing, spending time with Mr. Smith and the boys and getting some of my own stuff done. How was your weekend?
April 25, 2015
Write everywhere you can, whenever you can and however you can… feed your addiction.
April 24, 2015
Im not the only tired one…
Long, long day that found me putting home at around 9 p.m…. but I’m done for the weekend. Looking forward to some fun tomorrow and then some rest and writing time Sunday. I have two big projects coming up that I need to get busy with.
For now though, put me to bed. That’s all she wrote.
April 23, 2015
In that time I’ve made dinner, watched Youtube videos at the urgent insistence of one son, and the other one is playing his favorite episodes of Scrubs for me with a running dialogue. I’ve had a lively discussion about the best way to microwave vegetables and I’ve overseen a minor disagreement between the boys about whether the okra should be oven baked or fried.
It’s not easy being a writer, or a mom… painter … doctor … newspaper reporter… martial artist… garbage collector… My point is that nothing done well is ever easy, but we press on. We have to, or quit.
If I wait for the perfect moment to write a brilliant post, it will never happen. There will never be a 100th post, a new book or any form of growth. If we ever want to succeed, we must always, always strive on.
Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that? We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves. We must believe that we are gifted for something and that this thing must be attained. -Marie Curie
April 22, 2015
The scooter is officially on the road and I am a fan. It took approximately five feet of driveway to decide this was going to work for me. I took it to work that morning, buzzing down roads that were all new from a fresh perspective. No more being boxed in a car, I thought to myself as the scent of wisteria mixed with petrol washed over me. The journey and I have become the same entity.
Subway was the next adventure where we met Mr. Smith and his motorcycle for lunch. After work me and the scooter filled up the tank for the first time with premium for under $3 and then zipped over to a girl’s night out party.
FYI: Two six packs of beer fit in the spacious compartment under the seat, by the way, but I only bought one to share.
As we putted down the road together after the party I was bathed in moonlight and the cool scent of night (mixed with petrol) while the space station wheeled over head, a speck, but there. This was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I scootered down them both,
And that has made all the difference.
My take on Robert Frost’s original poem,
The Road Not Taken