Talena Winters's Blog, page 15

Becoming Healthier Through Better Time Management

Last fall, I shared my commitment to get my weight under control and to become generally fitter and healthier.

You may have noticed how silent I’ve been on the topic since.

I want you to know that I have been working on it. I got an under-desk elliptical. I tried to integrate a daily walking habit into my life. I made some changes to my diet.

Becoming Healthier Through Better Time Management. Photo courtesy of 123rf.com.

Phase 1: Changes

What I found was that the under-desk elliptical was good for preventing my blood pooling in my feet while sitting for long periods—but the position of it required me to stretch uncomfortably to reach my keyboard, and my knees continually hit my keyboard tray.

So I rearranged my desk (which is L-shaped) so I would sit at it differently, which helped a lot. And frankly, it made the whole space nicer to use and I’ve been able to keep it tidier, with less junk on the top to crowd my mental space, so that was bonus upon bonus.

But as far as fitness or weight loss, the elliptical did not seem to do much on its own. I don’t use it to the point where I break a sweat, so its benefits are mostly for my circulation (which is still something).

I also made some dietary changes which I thought I’d be able to stick to—restricting my intake of sugars and grain products while still allowing myself small amounts per day. I managed to stick to this strictly for a while, but when I didn’t start seeing results after a couple of weeks, I confess to letting it slide—especially through the holiday season.

As for the daily walking habit:

The plan was to walk around my house (because: winter) for forty minutes to an hour every day (and yes, I can work up a sweat doing that) while doing something I enjoyed to tempt me to stick to it—knitting and listening to music or interviews on YouTube.

The temptation bundling part of that worked—I finished several knitting projects and actually did do this activity for a while. That is, until I realized how much of my to-do list I was perpetually having to bump, and deadlines started creeping up on me.

And that’s when it all fell apart.

Phase 2: Discouragement

Despite the changes I’d made, my weight didn’t seem to be dropping.

In fact, I gained nine pounds, and for the last several months, I have held steady just below the 200 lb mark. (Shocked at that number? I’m shocked at how many people still tell me I look good when I am 45-50 lbs overweight. I’m tall, so that probably makes a difference. And also, they’re probably just being nice.)

Between that and the deadline crunches, the daily walking habit disappeared.

But not my desire or commitment to get healthy. As my weight crept higher and even my “fat pants” started to feel snug, I grew more determined to find a way to make this work. After all, if I’m going to buy new clothes because I’ve changed sizes again, I don’t want them to be a size bigger!

In thinking about where my real problem in the process is, I realized it was my overcrowded schedule (and my over-reliance on bread products in my limited dietary options—I already avoid dairy and nightshades completely and limit legumes and squash).

What I needed was a plan if I wanted any of this to change.

Phase 3: Organization

I don’t know if you can save the world through better time management, but this week, I’ve proven that you can start losing weight that way.

My work week schedule was 57 hours long, which allowed me approximately 48 hours of “off time” from Friday evening to Sunday evening to spend with my family. Yes, I work from home, so I’m here “with” them all the time, … but I’m still working.

Weekends are when I get to have tea with my hubby, coffee with my friends, down time with my kids, etc. When my initial walking plan fell apart, they were also the only time I could squeeze in a walk—and it still didn’t happen every weekend.

So, last weekend, I figured out how I can fit an hour daily walk into my schedule without my other required activities suffering.

I also decided to go on a two-week grain fast to try to reset my brain and my gut. (“Two weeks” because I am taking a trip next weekend to promote my new book, The Undine’s Tear, and with my long list of dietary restrictions, knew I would probably fudge a little while travelling. But I think I’ll go back on the fast afterwards, because it’s helping.)

There are certain things in my schedule that I won’t sacrifice—getting enough sleep, for instance. I used to short myself on a regular basis, and I just can’t and won’t do it anymore. No one likes me when I’m tired, especially not me. But what do you sacrifice when your week is already structured to the max?

After spending an hour wrestling with nailing down my schedule a little tighter and deciding that there are a few “fluffier” activities I could cut back on for at least a few minutes a day, I also decided that I would save a lot of time if I fasted for breakfast. There is a lot of research on the benefits of prolonged fasting, but my habit has been to eat all day—a holdover from the raging metabolism of my youth that started fading at least ten years ago.

Then on Monday, I found two apps that are helping me stick to my new plan:

RescueTime, which runs in the background of your devices and tells you how much time you spend on different sites and applications throughout the day—so there’s no fudging to yourself about how you really spend your time.

And Timely, an app that uses RescueTime to supply the information for its AI engine.

Timely lets me keep track of how all those different activities I did on my devices during the day actually relate to my work, so I can see if I’m sticking to my plan for where my time goes, and helps me see where I need to adjust my plan or my schedule. As the AI engine learns from what I do, those schedule allotments are supposed to become automatic, and all I have to do at the end of the day is review them and accept them with a click.

1 Week In

I started my fast and daily walk on Sunday. This time, the walking is outside, since spring is here. (Added benefits: fresh air and Vitamin D!) I’m also trying out an Audible subscription and started listening to a free podcast series about habits (I figured it was fitting) and a fantasy novel (Elantris by Brandon Sanderson) I’ve been wanting to read for a year.

I have managed to walk every day this week—which might be a lifetime record for me. Even back in the days when I had a regular habit, I rarely went five days in a row. (Six, after today.)

I’ve also managed to mostly stick to my new schedule plan. I’m learning how to use my new apps, and I’ve also succeeded in fasting until noon each day.

By Wednesday, I was curious, so I stepped on the scale, steeling myself against disappointment—and found I had already lost two pounds! That was the first time the scale had moved in months.

So, it’s working. I like the walk, and after five days, the soreness is starting to go away. I feel good about how I’m managing my other activities and don’t feel like my production schedule is suffering because I’m taking an hour a day to go for a walk. I’ve actually shifted my daily schedule to go to bed and get up a half hour earlier, and I’m enjoying that change, too.

I don’t know how much of a wimp I’ll be in bad weather—maybe I’ll simply go back to walking in the house on days like that. But in general, I’m noticing a mental shift over the last year, where I want to be outside and doing things more. It’s amazing how long the effects of a major loss and trauma can last. In a month, it will have been four years since we lost Levi, and I know that I am still working my way out of what it did to my body—never mind my emotions. At any rate, I am thankful that I actually want to be active again. And I’m taking advantage of it, because I know that activity feeds itself, and the inertia of doing something should keep me going.

And, after what I’ve learned about habits this week, I know I’ve already taken quite a few steps to make sure it does.

As I mentioned above, I’ve got a busy week coming up, because The Undine’s Tear comes out on Tuesday! Yippee!

I’ve got a whole slew of public events happening this week. If you could make it out to one, I’d love to see you! (I’m putting in an events widget. I know that as they pass, they’ll no longer be relevant to this post, but this way, you can click on the one that interests you and add it to Google Calendar. Or you can join the event on my Facebook page, if that’s what you prefer.)

The Undine's Tear

She was raised to save her people—as long as she doesn’t go crazy and kill them all first.

I’ll have copies of the book in hardcover and paperback with me to sell at these events, and most of the stores will be keeping some, too, so if you can’t make it out, pop in there and pick up a signed copy later. Or you can order online—preorders are already available. Check out the book’s page to get direct links.

Happy weekend, friend! I hope you make it a good one!

What I Decided

So, my last post was kind of a downer, right? I know, because quite a few people read it, and no one commented. It’s a tough one, because people are uncomfortable commenting about other people’s financial or business situations. I get it. I am. We don’t have enough information to give someone else proper advice, so we say nothing. Plus, we have our own problems.

I’m hoping that most of the people who read it did get something out of it—a takeaway that will help them in their own careers or that makes them more aware of how they can support the artists in their lives.

Careers in the arts are always tricky to balance, because it’s not like an artist is in the same category as a restaurant, where it’s like:

I’m going to make this food, and you can pay for it and eat it, and if you like it, you can pay for it and eat it again tomorrow, and the next day, and tell your friends, and I’ll be happy and you’ll be happy, because I have steady income and you have steady food. But if you don’t like it, that’s okay, someone else will be my regular.

For artists like authors, musicians, painters, and more, “regulars” are super important, too, but the process looks more like this:

I’m going to make this thing, which takes a really long time. I’ll talk about the thing while I’m making it, and you will be excited to enjoy it. When the thing is ready, you can pay for it and buy it and enjoy it, and if you like it, you can enjoy it again and again and again, forever. But if I want to get paid again, I must make another thing and invest a bunch more time and money, so please come back next year. Oh, and that thing potentially costs less for you to buy than the coffee you drank while you enjoyed it (depending on what kind of art we’re discussing and the medium it’s consumed in).

I’m just going to wait here and look pretty until I’m successful.

Obviously, artists’ business models have to be a lot different than a restaurant’s. And in order to make a living creating, they have to have a much wider customer base to make sure they can sell enough “things” to support them through the process of creating the next one.

One of the ways that artists mitigate this is to have multiple streams of income. The stereotypical version of this (because it works and eating is important!) is to have a full-time day job that pays the bills and the expenses of creating the art until the art starts to support not only itself, but ideally, the artist as well.

Growing an arts business takes a long time with minimal cash flowing in.

In previous eras, nobility and the wealthy would become patrons to artists they liked, seeing it as their social responsibility to support artists so that the artists could create without having to starve, and in return, the artist often created almost exclusively for that patron.

More recently, crowd-funding has filled that role, kind of a combination of the proverbial “tip jar on the piano” and the patronage system, which is what I thought I’d give a try with my Ko-fi page—because I’m stuck in a bit of a hard place in budgeting for my next book right now, I’m gonna be honest.

But the thing is, I also hate having people hand me money for which I give them nothing directly in return. For some reason, try as I might, I’m having a hard time reconciling all the things I do and create for free (for instance, this blog, my monthly inspirational newsletters, my free desktop wallpapers, and the free book you get when you sign up for my newsletter) as enough value to justify it on its own, because those are things I would do anyway, and which also serve the purpose of establishing relationships with my readers, which is so important to me.

So I created a survey to see what other value people would like if they buy me a coffee, including finding out if my neurosis about what I already do not being enough is justified. If you want to vote on that, go here:

Vote for Value Rewards

But honestly, I would much rather create my own support base for myself, which is how I’ve always done it before this and how I’d prefer to do it going forward. And last week, through casting around for an answer and prayer and the fortuitous merging of events, I found the answer.

I am already doing an activity that would allow me to have full-time work and income and not only support my writing career, but enhance it. It would also allow my long, 55+-hour work week to net our family more than that minimum wage part-time job I was wistfully discussing last post. And that thing is editing.

Editing is something I enjoy, and am good at. I can do all forms of editing, but what I really excel at is as a developmental editor for fiction. I love the aspects of teaching, puzzle-solving, and creativity that are involved. It gives me great satisfaction to help other writers have those “a-ha” moments when they see how some small, consistent changes make their writing come alive and their stories become magical.

“It gives me great satisfaction to help other writers have those “a-ha” moments when they see how some small, consistent changes make their writing come alive and their stories become magical.”

A-ha author moments are the kind of magic that makes editing wonderful…

Plus, editing is a professional job. Editors don’t work for hopes, smiles, and dreams like many authors do. Editors charge a professional fee, just like I am already doing when I teach piano (my other “day job”). Up until now, I’ve been charging very low rates for my editing to build my portfolio, but recent research has revealed to me that I’m more than qualified to command full rates—and those rates would allow me to work without dreaming of the steady income a job at Tim Hortons would provide…

My dream is still to make a living from my writing alone at some point. But at that point, I will probably still go around teaching other writers for fun, because I love it so much. At this point, I’m going to start editing as a full-time “day job” to support my art, because it’s a job I love and comes with the added satisfaction of helping other writers, one story at a time.

By the way, if you are a writer looking for an editor, you can check out my services here, and get free tips on my new editing blog here. (I plan to update it about once a week.)

I’m excited about what the future holds, and all the ways I can continue to contribute both to the lives of my readers, and other writers and their readers.

So, all that to say, life looks pretty good right now.

Oh, and also, this Helps:

The Undine’s Tear comes out on May 14. That’s less than three weeks away! You can preorder now, or check my Events page to look up an upcoming local event for my fellow Albertans, at which point you can buy a signed, personalized copy.

Happy Friday, friend!

Real Talk: What the EHT Black Hole and My Fiction Career Have in Common

I’m about to write about something that most authors avoid talking about like the plague: the real financial situation of a multi-published independent author in the early stages of her career.

Buckle in, folks. It’s gonna be a bumpy ride. (And a long one, sorry. But spilling my guts isn’t a quick process.)

[image error]

Last year, I read Anna Kendrick’s memoir, Scrappy Little Nobody. I found it amusing, illuminating, and painfully familiar when she told the story about going to the movie premiere for Up In the Air at the Toronto Film Festival. Paramount Pictures hired a stylist for her who put her into a Marchesa dress and insisted she buy a pair of expensive shoes to match. How expensive? $1,069 USD.

Up In the Air was Anna’s first major role. At the time, the movie hadn’t even come out. Understandably, her reaction to her stylist’s expectation was shock and outrage—the shoes cost more than her rent at the time. She had a small recurring role in the Twilight movies that was barely making sure that that rent got paid. But in her industry, you get judged about your potential future career by how you dress before you really even have one, so she bought the shoes. (And hasn’t worn them since.)

But any of the people who saw her on the red carpet in that Marchesa dress and that thousand-dollar pair of shoes would have thought, “Look at her! She’s doing great! She can afford designer clothes and she’s on the big screen! Already well on the path to success!”

Well, in her case, she would become a success, but it was by no means a guarantee, even though she did spend a grand on shoes. Looks can be deceiving.

Since I published The Friday Night Date Dress in 2015, and even more so since I published Finding Heaven in 2017 and started doing public events, I’ve been asked repeatedly how sales are going, how successful the books have been, or variants thereof. Sometimes, people think that the very fact that you’ve published a book at all means you must be doing well.

And, not wanting to either discourage the dreams of other aspiring writers or maybe not wanting to expose the cold hard facts, I’ve developed this little dance of justification—success is about more than sales, I’m at the beginning of an exponential curve, so yes, the relationship between time and money invested and outcome is all inverse, yada yada yada.

Those things are true. Absolutely true.

But another truth is that if I walked away from writing fiction today and went and put the hours I currently invest into fiction into a minimum-wage job? Our family would be way, WAY further ahead financially.

SPEED BUMP!

Yes, everything’s fine. Why do you ask?

Last week, I did some rather depressing math, and that’s the conclusion I reached. Since then, I’ve been struggling with what to do about it.

Here’s the thing:

I’m not going to stop writing—I’ve been a writer in some form or other since I learned how to form letters. And now that I’ve got a taste of how rewarding and fulfilling it is to put words out into the world that bless others, I’m not going to stop. This is my calling, and turning away from it would be a betrayal of not only my joy, but my conscience.

It is because of this that I’ve made it a goal to become a prolific writer, because in today’s publishing climate, that is about the only way that one can make a decent living while doing this.

In some ways, I’m already prolific—between blogs, newsletters, and the paid work I do every quarter writing for Move Up (yay! paid writing work!) I produce, at minimum, 120,000 words a year—in other words, the equivalent of a book the length of a Hunger Games installment. But if I also want to produce two or more works of fiction that length every year, I have to change some things.

When I wrote The Waterboy February, I think I finally found the breakthrough I need to help me achieve that goal. I’m totally stoked to try my new technique out on my next book in the series, which I intend to start fast-drafting on Monday.

But today, as I, trembling, hit the “submit order” button on my first order of book stock for The Undine’s Tear—to the tune of over a thousand dollars, and I hope that sells out quick or I may not be able to afford to do some other things in my life this summer—I realized that being prolific will bring up a whole new problem: not having enough capital to afford to produce books that fast.

The Indie Publishing Process

Here’s how it works when you want to produce and sell a book as an independent author:

You spend hours and hours (and hours) writing something that you love, then hate, then love, and hope that other people will want to read it.

You revise that to something humans can (hopefully) understand and send it to beta readers, who will either tell you that you’re on to something or stab a basilisk fang through something that, like Tom Riddle’s diary, contains a piece of your soul, and sometimes they’ll do both at the same time.

Then, once you’ve pulled the tattered pieces of your dignity around you, you revise again. Depending how far along you were with your writing before this point, you may have to repeat these steps several times.

Then, when you think the book is ready for a professional eye, you hire an editor. Editors worth their salt will point out any plot problems, character issues, and style issues that you or your beta readers missed.

After that, you revise again.

Then you have an editor (might be the same one, or not) go through and copy-edit the manuscript (what most laypeople think of as “proofreading”—checking for grammatical, punctuation, and spelling errors).

Then, after what is hopefully a very short revision that is basically accepting the editor’s changes, you send the manuscript to a typesetter.

Usually, by the time you send this to an editor, you are ready to hire a graphic designer to create the perfect cover for your story. He or she will only be able to make you the front cover, since you don’t know how long (and therefore how thick) the final print book will be yet. Depending on your personal graphic design abilities, you may also hire the designer to create some promotional materials for you to use. If you plan to make your own, you license the designer’s work for this purpose.

Note: You should ONLY design your own cover if YOU are a professional graphic designer. Your cover is one of your most effective selling tools—if you get it wrong, all the other work and money you poured into your book won’t matter, because the book just won’t sell enough to catch on.

After you get your completed print file back from your typesetter and know how many pages will be in the book, you can have your graphic designer complete your print wraps. This costs some money over and above the ebook cover. Obviously.

Okay, so now you’ve got your finished, polished, edited manuscript. You’ve got a cover that makes angels weep. You’ve got an interior design that is completely invisible to readers because it complements the entire book effortlessly, which is the point.

Now, if you are planning to put those books into stores on consignment, or even if you want to order some print copies to sell (or give away) to friends and family, you need to buy some books.

Did you notice that word “consignment?” Yes, that’s right. Because here’s how bookstores work (for all authors, not just indies):

Bookstores don’t buy books.

Bookstores borrow books.

How Bookstores Work: Almost a hundred years ago, a publishing industry that was drowning in the toilet during a recession came up with the brilliant idea that, to get their books onto store shelves where people could buy them, they would remove all the risk from the stores. Essentially, they told bookstores, “Whatever you don’t sell, you can send back and we’ll refund you. Doesn’t matter what condition they’re in. We’ll cover it.”

And that’s how it still works. (Great business plan, right?)

As an indie author, I could ask stores to bring in copies of my book through the worldwide distribution system they order through and through which my books are available. But until I have more capital and more people out there who actually want to buy my books, the thought of that kind of terrifies me, because stores across North America could (hypothetically) buy copies of my books—yay! Big royalty check for me!—then return them in six months, and I’d have to give all that money back, plus shipping.

So, understandably, I’ve only put my books into bookstores I can physically access, on consignment (which means the store only takes 45% of the selling price instead of the 55% I’d have to surrender if they ordered the books on their own). I do this so that if the store decides it’s not worth their shelf space to carry my books and want to return their copies, I can actually pick the books up instead of losing money on the return.

And even though my books are only sitting on about a dozen store shelves, I still have hundreds of dollars of books out there (and in my storage room but which you can order through this website, ahem)—for the most part, not selling, because people don’t know who I am and don’t go into the stores looking for me. (Except in the Peace Region. And can I say, you guys who’ve bought my books? You rock. You’re support is what keeps me doing this.)

For each of these steps of the process, the investment will be different for each writer and for each book. I’ve paid a range of prices for each of these services for the four books I’ve published. As I’ve developed in my career, I’ve invested more, because my goal as an indie author is that my product will be as good as or better than what the big houses produce.

So what does this mean in terms of cold, hard numbers?

Writer Math

I’m going to give you the numbers for my most recent book, The Undine’s Tear. I did not track my exact time writing it (something which I will be changing going forward), but I know what my average hourly output was and that I canned about 30,000 words early in the process. So, based on my final word count of 164,000 words, I estimate that it took me around 280 hours of writing time to create the first draft. In other words, only the time up until I actually started the really hard work.

In terms of a full-time job, that would be 7 weeks of work. At the current Alberta minimum wage of $15/hour, I would have earned $4,200 for that amount of work.

I spend 7-10 hours every week in activities that could generally be classified as “marketing.” These activities include networking with other writers, editors, and especially readers online, creating content for my blog, newsletters and social media, making phone calls or reaching out to bookstores and reviewers, and maintaining my website.

Since I actually wrote The Undine’s Tear over the course of a year (first draft), this comes out to around another 364-520 hours of marketing during that year, most of which was for my fiction writing (as opposed to my knitwear design business).

For easy figuring, let’s say I double my time investment writing a book with the marketing time for that book and use 280 hours. That means that at my fictional minimum-wage job, I would have earned another $4,200. A total of $8,400.

Instead, here’s what that time cost me:

Graphic design: $700 CAD for the cover and extended license to make my own promotional materials.

Editing, 1 round only: $2,750

Typesetting: $450

Website hosting fees, domain name costs, etc: hundreds of dollars, which fortunately, my knitwear design business covers

Right now, we’re looking at $3,900—which does not include the investment I made today ordering in stock. Which I then have to store until it sells.

So, not only am I not $8k richer, but out of the money I do earn (some at more than minimum wage, some at less), $4,000 went into producing a single title. A title for which I earn between $2-$5 per sale, out of which I have to pay for those expenses. To break even, I’d have to sell 780 books. (Hint: I haven’t come close to selling 780 books, total, let alone of a single title.)

And I want to do this multiple times a year. Why? Because eventually, producing more work means that the relationship between time and money invested vs. gained reverses, and the business becomes self-sustaining. I know authors that have done it. And if they can do it, so can I.

But right now, I’m at a tricky stage of the process of getting to that point—I can write more books, faster, than ever before. But I have less capital to invest than ever before, because I’m already maxed out on the books I’ve created.

Up until now, I’ve been picturing my writing career as an exponential curve of growth, and I’m so near the beginning of the curve that I’m barely off the baseline. But what it feels like is this:

Not a picture of an actual black hole. To see that, go here, right now, because it’s awesome—then come back. I couldn’t figure out how to legally use that image. This one is courtesy of 123rf.com.

Now, the longer you’re in this game, the farther you get along the curve. Which means eventually, I will actually be making more on each book than I’m putting into it.

But that’s not true for me yet. And despite working 50 hours a week on my fiction career, I don’t know exactly when that will be true.

Soon, I hope.

But as I sat there this afternoon, sweating over how many books I could afford to buy in order to have books that I could sell, I wondered how I was going to afford to put out multiple books a year with this kind of overhead.

Which is why I’m writing this.

(Note: In reality, I spend approximately 57 hours a week, every week, working, most of which is unpaid. Eight hours a week of that is teaching piano, a few hours go into knitwear design—which doesn’t earn a lot, but gains me more than it loses, and sometimes I edit and write for money. The rest of the time, I get paid in smiles, hopes, and dreams.)

Consumers as Patrons

Last weekend, I was talking to a friend of mine who has read (and loved!) the ARC of The Undine’s Tear, and she surprised me by offering to invest in future books to help me succeed, completely out of the blue. This floored me, because it is not common to have that kind of support for the arts anymore. Or so I used to think.

Over the last year or two, I’ve been watching other artists—singers, cartoonists, writers, and more—use services like Patreon and GoFundMe! to launch projects or just to help pay their bills. People who value what these artists do support them, either one-time or monthly, as a thank you in exchange for content, or just to make sure the artist can keep producing more of whatever the consumer loves—thus becoming the artist’s patron.

My friend hadn’t even heard of these sites. She just offered. Which made me think that maybe, just maybe, there are others out there who would value my work enough to do the same. It’s just that, as a businesswoman, I believe strongly in creating my own capital. It’s how I’ve done it so far. And it’s also the reason why all of my businesses have grown so slowly—because they’ve been limited by the amount of investment capital I can create at the same time that I’m doing the work to grow the business that’s sucking that capital in.

I have limited quantities of time and money. And I haven’t been able to figure out a way to break through those barriers. Until now.

If you’ve gotten this far, I’m assuming you’re sufficiently invested in my success (or in learning how to create your own) to be interested in hearing about the solution. So, here it is: How you can help!

How You Can Support My Career:

My ultimate goal is to make a decent living from writing. It doesn’t all have to be fiction, and I’ve already started to do that. After all, there is that magazine job that I love, and people do buy my books and love them—just not enough people yet to create actual profit. So how do we fix that?

Buy my books or ask your local library to buy them.

This is obvious, but I felt it should be included. Chances are, you are already one of my fiction readers. But did you know I get paid for having my books in Canadian libraries? So if you haven’t already done this, please go ask your local library to order them in (and then go check them out at least once to show them it was justified). If you’re such an avid reader that library memberships are the only way to afford your habit, this is a very tangible way to help authors.

Review my books.

I constantly get comments, texts, direct messages, and sometimes hugs from people who have read my books, especially Finding Heaven, and were profoundly moved or impacted by them. This is great. I love knowing that my work matters, and feedback like this is how I know I’m in the right career.

But if you want to enable me to keep putting out great fiction, leave a review.

Did you know that I’ve sold hundreds of copies of Finding Heaven, but it only has 19 reviews on Goodreads (and less on Amazon)? Most of them were left by my ARC reader team, and the last one was left over a year ago. Nineteen reviews isn’t even enough to qualify the book for certain online promotions I could enter it into if it had more reviews. So please, leave a review. It only takes a few minutes of your time, but it has a profound impact on the success of any book and, by extension, the author’s career. (Don’t know how? My 2-minute guide removes the intimidation factor.)

Buy me a coffee.

This isn’t what you think.

I’ve had people offer to buy me a coffee in person after reading my book, which I deeply appreciate, but thanks to my 57-hour work week, I just don’t have time. I have to be very intentional about the time I spend socializing, and my highest priority is my family and existing relationships, which are difficult enough to maintain. I like getting to know my readers, but social media and email are the best (and probably only) ways that that it’s going to happen outside of public events like book signings and conferences. (So find me on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, and sign up for my newsletter! Ahem.)

But!

Remember the modern patron-type sites I was mentioning above? I’ve signed up for one (which, frustratingly, misspells “coffee” as “ko-fi”, which is an actual name that should be pronounced KOH-fee, and I know, because my husband had a co-worker with this name and one my characters in The Undine’s Tear also bears it).

However, the point is that, for the cost of a cup of coffee, you can show solidarity and support for me, what I do, and the content that I spend so much time producing and putting out for free (like my newsletters, blog posts, and social media posts).

It took me a while to get used to the idea, but once I pictured myself as a busker, creating entertainment and just throwing out a hat for people to leave a little something in appreciation, I got more comfortable with it.

If this is an idea you love, and you want to invest in my future success, you can “buy me a coffee” here:

 



























 

Eventually, I won’t need to throw out my hat. Eventually, I’ll be filling up other artists’ hats to give them the boost they need to get out of that black hole.

And please don’t think I expect a coffee from you. I’m going to keep writing. I’m going to keep growing my business. But if you want to partner with me and water my baby business seeds with some “coffee,” I’ll be forever grateful.

I mean, Anna got to the point where she could easily afford a pair of $1,000 shoes for the red carpet, and write a best-selling memoir about how she got to that point.

I’d be happy with enough money to put out my next book and put money toward groceries.

What do you say?

Please, Get Uncomfortable

For some time, I have been on the email list of an organization that sends out and promotes petitions supporting Christian beliefs in Canada when they feel that there is something that might be threatening our rights.

Or rather, that’s what I thought they did when I signed up (which was probably through one of the said petitions, I don’t remember).

Over the last little while, I’ve taken note, with dismay, that the tone of the campaigns are as often fear-based and fear-mongering as they are about standing up for the rights of Christians to worship and express their worship and beliefs without persecution.

And today, after a rather lengthy email to them that I’m praying impacts at least one person (but it would be awesome if it sparked a change in attitude at the organization) and that also inspired this post, I unsubscribed.

Because I don’t want to slur the name of this organization, which also does good work, I am not going to link to their campaign or reprint it, and I hesitate about even becoming too specific about what was wrong with it.

Instead, I’d like to address the attitude behind the email in more general terms, because it is a cancer that too often and too easily finds root in the heart of Christians.

Entitlement.

Bet you didn’t see that coming, did you?

Comfortable, are we? Image courtesy of 123rf.com.

It’s not just a Millennial problem. It’s a problem for everyone, the person on this side of the keyboard included.

We get so used to things the way they are, and we get comfortable with them that way—especially if “the way things are” favours us and our lifestyle and beliefs. But let someone stand up and say “The current situation is uncomfortable or even harmful for me” and we splutter and shout and decry them without once bothering to stop and listen to find out why. I mean, heaven forbid that we would be required to change, right?

I’m all for comfort, friend. I like my easy chair and my monitor adjusted to the right height and my wood stove on a winter’s day. I love big sweaters and knowing that I can go into town on Sunday and worship with a congregation of other like-minded believers and no one is going to stop me.

But if I begin to think that my comfort is of more value than someone else’s, say the woman who spent 80 hours hand-knitting a sweater for pennies a day so I could buy it on discount and crow about the deal I got while she’s struggling to feed her family on slave wages, then I’m wrong.

This is not a crusade for Fair Trade practices (though I strongly believe in them), and I’m not saying I follow the trail of accountability for every purchase I make. I’m using this as an example. Because if I buy that sweater on discount and don’t know that the company uses indentured slaves to supply them, that’s not hypocrisy. It’s ignorance, perhaps laziness, but I’m not willfully exploiting someone or infringing on their rights for my benefit.

But if someone crusades against a company’s inhumane practises and successfully brings them to the world’s attention, including mine, and I say:

“I don’t care, I’m buying my sweaters from them anyway because I don’t want to be inconvenienced by finding a new place to buy my clothes. I deserve to pay next to nothing for them, and why does she think she deserves to be paid more? Besides, she’s probably lying, anyway. She probably chose to live in that situation—I mean, look how many kids she has—and it’s not my responsibility to fix it. At least if I’m buying the sweater, she’s getting a little money. What more do you want from me?”

Now I’m in the wrong. On so many levels.

Can we agree so far?

The cross was about anything but comfort. Image courtesy of Lightstock.com.

Christians are fond of saying that America and Canada were founded on Christian ideals. “One nation under God” and all that. I’m not so sure I agree.

My ancestors came to this land to farm and to seek opportunity, and none of them were in government (that I know of). But in general, the attitude of the peoples who conquered North America has been to suppress, change, and exterminate the peoples and beliefs that already existed here. Many of the colonists had been oppressed in the areas they came from, then turned around and did the same thing to the Indigenous groups that inhabited the places they settled.

That sounds very Christian, doesn’t it?

The problem is, any time we are trying to force our beliefs on someone, we are a) fighting a losing battle, because belief can’t be forced, it must be chosen, and b) not acting in love and in their interests, but in our own.

Let me say that again for the folks who were distracted by a Facebook notification:

“Trying to change another person’s beliefs through force or legislation is a selfish act.”

And despite the many Crusades that were conducted in the name of Christ, it is as anti-Christian as you can get.

When Jesus came to earth, he associated with the poor, the disenfranchised, the “sinners.” These are the ones he had dinner with and who became his friends.

He only had confrontations with one group of people—the religious elite. These were the ones trying to interpret God’s will for the common folk, who tried to micro-manage every moment of their day through an unending list of man-made laws, and who would enforce the tiniest of these rules while neglecting the principle that informs it—which often meant harming their fellow man instead of supporting and helping them.

Jesus didn’t fit their idea of a Messiah. He didn’t rebel against the government in power (the Roman Empire) and enforce a Judaic state or ideals on the world. Instead, he preached a single message wherever he went—“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind, and love your neighbour as yourself.” And the people followed him. Wherever he went, there was a crowd, longing to know the love and grace he freely shared.

The religious elite didn’t like that. Not a bit.

These are the ones he yelled at. These are the ones he publicly shamed. These are the ones who got so uncomfortable with the truth that they eventually crucified him.

The discomfort of the religious elite killed love.

Let’s just sit and think about that for a moment, shall we?

I’m really not sure what more there is to say on this, but I’ll wrap up my point, in case it is not already clear to you.

As Christians, we need to examine the motivations behind our personal crusades. If you bear the name of Christ, you bear the name of the God of Love. But unfortunately, in this world we have become known more by what we are against than what we are for. Just like the religious elite that Jesus so often clashed with.

Could that be because instead of loving people and lighting the way to relationship with the God of Love, which is our primary mission, we have gotten too caught up in safeguarding our comfort?

As I said in that email today:

If you're a Christian, you should darn well be uncomfortable on a regular basis. We are called to go into the world, to the broken, and love them. There is very little about this that is comfortable and that will not cause some anxiety—unless someone is firmly rooted in Christ. And a Christian who is living up to their call would not spread a petition that basically says "my discomfort is of more value than X group's discomfort. They should accommodate me."

Without a little discomfort and adversity, we become weakling Christians.

Friend, loving like Christ loved is far from comfortable. It is difficult, inconvenient, and often downright terrifying. And it ALWAYS pro-actively gives instead of re-actively hoards.

“Loving like Christ loved is far from comfortable. It is difficult, inconvenient, and often downright terrifying.”

So the next time a “cause” comes your way, or you are tempted to dig in your heels and shout down someone else’s concerns based on “what the Bible says,” stop and think first: is what I’m saying really about God’s way, which is love? Or is it about me and my comfort?

I think you’ll find that the loving thing to do is to put away the swords and pitchforks and instead listen to what the other person is really saying. It’s hard, because defending our comfort is what comes naturally.

But that doesn’t mean it is right.

Love means leaving heaven and power and becoming completely vulnerable to the very people who scorn you.

Love means stepping away from high society’s expectations to mingle and serve among the dregs.

Love means dying for the person who is pounding in your nails.

Love means listening. Love means seeing people and accepting them. Love means forgiving those who betray you and nail you to a cross.

This is the message that Jesus calls us to preach. There is nothing comfortable about it.

Please, I invite you—get uncomfortable.

Please Come

Written and performed by Nichole Nordeman

Oh, the days when I drew lines around my faith
To keep you out, to keep me in, to keep it safe
Oh, the sense of my own self entitlement
To say who's wrong or won't belong or cannot stay

'Cause somebody somewhere decided
We'd be better off divided
And somehow despite the damage done
He says, "come" ...

There is room enough for all of us, please come
And the arms are open wide enough, please come
And our parts are never greater than the sum
This is the heart of the One
Who stands before an open door and bids us, "come"

Oh, the times when I have failed to recognise
How may chairs are gathered there around the feast
To break the bread and break these boundaries
That have kept us from our only common ground
The invitation to sit down
If we will come ...

There is room enough for all of us, please come
And the arms are open wide enough, please come
And our parts are never greater than the sum
This is the heart of the One
Who stands before an open door and bids us, "come"

Come, from the best of humanity
Come, from the depths of depravity
Come now and see how we need
Every different bead on this same string
Come ...

There is room enough for all of us, please come
And the arms are open wide enough, please come
And our parts are never greater than the sum
This is the heart of the One
Who stands before an open door and bids us, "come"

The Waterboy Cover Reveal

When I first started writing The Undine’s Tear, I wrote a prologue about my male protagonist, Zale, that set up his backstory wonderfully. I loved it, my critique group loved it, and Zale promptly became my son Jabin’s favourite character. (I have to admit, Zale has a special place in my heart, too.)

The only problem was, the prologue set up the wrong story for the series. As wonderful as that chapter was and as great as it was that I had such a clear picture of Zale’s backstory, I had to cut it and start someplace else—with the problem that my main character, Calandra, is trying to solve.

Well, a month or so ago, I started thinking about that prologue and wondered if I could turn it into a story of its own as a gift for my readers—something that wouldn’t produce any spoilers for those who haven’t read The Undine’s Tear, and would also provide some extra enjoyment for those who had.

And within a day or so, my brain said, “Yep, we can do that.”

I’d meant for it to be a short story. It became a short novella.

Thus, two weeks from today, on March 27, I will be releasing The Waterboy. It will be free and available exclusively to my newsletter subscribers as an eBook.

Here is the cover and a blurb about the book:

Where do you hide from yourself?

Zale Teague grew up thinking he was an ordinary boy—until the day he called lightning from the skies and caused an explosion with horrific results. Now, at only eleven, he is on the run to protect his loved ones from disaster. But can he ever outrun the demon within?

Make sure you’re on my Books & Inspiration newsletter list to receive this when it comes out.

Sign Up

Wanna share with your friends? Here you go:

Happy Wednesday!

Finding Gratitude in a Week of Highs And Lows

It’s been a strange week.

And by “strange,” I mean there were an extra six or so really-high highs and kinda-sucky lows stuffed into it without much of a breather between one or the other. Like a roller coaster at Six Flags. (I assume, based on the movies I’ve seen of those rides. I’ve never had the opportunity to try it myself.)

To save on space, I’m going to touch only on the highlights. These are not in order of occurrence:

Friday before last, I released the ARCs for The Undine’s Tear. (If you want to read it for free in exchange for an honest review, visit that page and click the link at the top.) That was just in the nick for my promised deadline. I was so glad I hit it. And also, a little freaked out that this book is making its first, quaking steps out into the world. But mostly excited, because it’s awesome, and I’m sure you will think so, too. :-)

On Thursday and Friday, Jabin performed two vocal pieces in his first music festival performances as a soloist (e.g. not with a school group). He got “distinction” (second-highest mark) on both, and totally deserved it. The adjudicator, who was male, seemed quite thrilled just to see Jabin and several other boys on the stage. Why aren’t more boys taking voice lessons? This shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

After a severe writer’s block on The Waterboy (the short story prequel I was working on for my upcoming young adult science fantasy series) that had me practically panic-crying last Sunday night (when I had promised it to my editor), two good things happened. I (a) got a breakthrough about what was wrong with my story on Tuesday, and (b) I found a book late Tuesday night that changed my life for probably the rest of my writing career. The book is 2k to 10k: Writing faster, better, and more of what you love (referring to daily word count) by Rachel Aaron. It was possibly the best $3.98 CAD I have ever spent. Writers, you should go get it NOW if you have goals of being prolific (which I do, though I was struggling with how to become so). https://amzn.to/2Ts3900. I started reading it at breakfast, and by the time I went to bed (at my actual close-of-business-day hour, for once!), I had written 6,500 words (my best writing day ever!) and increased my average hourly word count by about 50%. And that was implementing only the first, simple suggestion she gave! I’m excited to see what I can do with this from here, now that I’ve read the whole book.

Oh, and also? I finished The Waterboy that day. It’s now with my editor, and will be going out exclusively to my newsletter subscribers at the end of the month.

I also got my finalized cover for The Waterboy. I’ll be revealing it later this week.

Last Monday, there was an earthquake near my hometown (not where I live, but where I grew up and where my father lives), 4.6 on the Richter scale. Not a huge earthquake, but enormous when you consider that it was the first one that my father has ever experienced—and he grew up there. So, first, it’s weird that there was an earthquake that was severe enough to be felt. And second, it’s even weirder that the epicentre was almost smack-dab under my dad’s house. (He’s okay, and as far as I know, so is his property. But it was strange.)

Also last Monday, my uncle, Bob McCarty, died of cancer, one that advanced very quickly after it was diagnosed in November. I have (or rather, had) twelve uncles between both sides of my family. This was the youngest of them all, and the first to pass. I wasn’t particularly close to him because of his reserved nature and a lack of things in common, but he was a kind man and one that will be missed. Especially by my mom and her siblings. He and my mom were pretty close, and it’s hard knowing that my mom has lost another person that meant so much to her.

So, yeah, as I said, a strange, emotion-heavy week. All of that, plus more I didn’t mention, and being an hour short of sleep today due to the time change may have left me a little melancholy and emotional. So rather than leaving my day on that note, I’m going to close this quick update post with what I’m most grateful for:

I am so thankful for my family—husband, kids, parents, siblings, uncles, aunts, cousins, in-laws, the ones I see often, the ones I see rarely, the ones I know well and the ones I don’t—and also, my incredible network of friends and even online acquaintances. I am so blessed to have such an abundance of love in my life. Because in all the highs and lows, only love really matters.

Happy Monday, friend.

Big Week Ahead

This week is already off to a busy but pretty wonderful start. I got to spend time with some good friends yesterday, and later, my sweet but forgetful grandmother (who is recovering from a bad fall she suffered last week).

Then last night, I got to work on another friend's manuscript and coach her on her writing, which is always rewarding and fun. I love teaching and editing.

Photo courtesy of 123rf.com.

Today, I should finish the first draft of The Waterboy, the prequel short story (ha! More like novella!) I'm writing for The Undine's Tear.

Speaking of which, by the end of the week, digital copies of The Undine's Tear will be going out to ARC readers. Want to read it for free? Sign up for my ARC newsletter here:

Read Undine's Tear for Free








Graceful Slippers

Graceful Slippers

Free Pattern
 

As if that weren’t enough, I’ve been busy re-editing my very first knitwear design, Graceful Slippers, and formatting a downloadable PDF. As a bonus, by customer Linda D’s request, I have also included instructions for worsted weight.

The online bulky version will remain a free pattern, but the updated version that includes worsted weight, a handy PDF, glossary, and more will be on sale in my shop.

It should be published by the end of the week and will be announced in my knitting newsletter.

 

In this western Alberta town, there are critters far more dangerous than bears…

Also, the story I wrote for Constellate eZine, “Up In Smoke”, will also be going live on Friday. If you want to read that, become a magazine patron. (Details at link.)

 

Lastly, but definitely not least, Noah turns 15 tomorrow! Whoot! Whoot!

All hail the birthday boy!

Whooee! Send warm, productive, energetic thoughts my way.

And chocolate.

Happy Monday, friends! What's new with you?

More on Yarn Substitution

Several years ago, I wrote a fairly in-depth article about how to substitute yarn for your knitting projects.

Just Plain Gloves

Gloves for everybody!

Just Plain Gloves

See in Shop

However, it was far from exhaustive. And last week, I came across an interesting conversation on Ravelry where a knitter was struggling with getting proper gauge using a yarn substitution for the Just Plain Gloves pattern. The knitter was trying to get another yarn, Brown Sheep’s Lamb’s Pride Worsted (labelled as aran weight, the yarn weight I called for in the pattern if one wasn’t using Knit Picks Wool of the Andes Superwash like I did—see my note below) to fit into the same dense gauge I used to make these gloves.

In the replies, user nmpalmersue gave a very astute response regarding these two yarns, which she gave me permission to share with you.

Funny thing about yarns. There is a lot more to them than just recommended gauge. Some yarns have a wide range of gauges they can be knit at and others have only a narrow range though both yarns might fall in the same weight category. The fluffier the yarn is and if it has strands that are not tightly plied, the more likely that the yarn has a wider range of gauges. KnitPicks Wool of the Andes worsted is one of those. I have used that yarn quite a bit and though the recommended gauge is 18 to 20 sts/4 inches, I find that 18 sts/4 inches is pretty loose (at least for my taste), but 20 sts/4 inches is about right and still leaves a light drapey fabric. At 22 sts/4 inches, you get a firm fabric with body and at 24 sts/4 inches, you get a very dense fabric. If you are using another yarn brand, it might not be as fluffy as WOTA and getting to 24 sts/4 inches might be a real stretch.

One way to tell if your (wool) yarn can be knit at a tighter gauge is to do a “fluff” test. Pinch it with the thumb and forefinger of both hands spaced about 2 or 3 inches apart and stretch it. If the yarn noticeably thins out and you can move your hands a noticeable distance apart, it is a fluffier yarn and you can knit at a tighter gauge. If you can’t pull your hands apart much and there is little difference in yarn thickness, the gauge range will be smaller. If you are using another yarn instead of WOTA, that might be part of the problem with getting a tighter gauge.

Another clue as to gauge range is to look at the weight of the skein. The average worsted weight for a yarn is about 100 yards/ 50 grams. If the yardage is less, the yarn is denser and less likely to compact into smaller stitches than given by the recommended gauge. If the yardage is more, the more likely you can knit it at a tighter gauge. Single ply yarns are generally the most dense of all with less of a gauge range.

Unfortunately, there is a lot more to yarn gauge than is typically given in a pattern that has a great deal to do with how the yarn is actually constructed - woolen or worsted spun, number of plies, how the yarn is plied (such as chainette or standard ply), so substituting a yarn for the one given in a pattern might or might not be successful. The other yarn characteristics must also be taken into consideration.

So, if you’ve been having trouble substituting yarn for the Just Plain Gloves or Just Plain Mittens in the medium weight, I hope this helped.

The beige gloves used Knit Picks Wool of the Andes Superwash.

Note on the yarn:

While researching this post, I found out that I may have been mistaken—I was under the impression (who knows why) that Knit Picks Wool of the Andes is an aran/heavy worsted yarn, but while I was looking for evidence to support that belief, I couldn’t find any. It is classified as worsted, though I do find it to be a heavier worsted than other “worsted” yarns I’ve worked with.

So, thanks to these two events (the struggling knitter and the realization that I was operating under false information), I have now updated these two patterns and their listings to call for a worsted weight of yarn. I have used true arans to get a gauge like these patterns called for, but it is much easier to get this gauge with worsted yarn.

By the way, another lovely yarn I recommend for both of these patterns is Knit Picks Swish Worsted. The yarn is soft enough even for my sensitive-skinned third child. This would also be a good choice for the Secret Garden Fingerless Mittens or War Bride Beret.

Happy yarn substituting!

Equilibrium: What a Rush!

I’ve spent most of the last two months feeling like I’m on a hamster wheel—an out-of-balance one that squeaks—waiting for the ride to end so I can get off and catch my breath for a few minutes.

Have you ever felt this way? Or am I the only one?

The worst part is that, I know that this overworked feeling is my own fault. And by “fault,” I mean, I’ve chosen to be this busy.

At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself. Until today.

Today, I had an epiphany. I had a defining moment when I realized that my idealized state of “balance” and true homeostasis are not the same thing.

For so long, I’ve been working to achieve balance by changing external factors—adjusting my schedule, becoming more disciplined and structured in my work habits, declining activities that would prevent me from fulfilling responsibilities that I have set as higher priority. I’ve created plans and defined work hours and written lists.

And these are all good things. But that’s not what it means to “maintain balance.”

“My idealized state of “balance” and true homeostasis are not the same thing.”

Wikipedia defines homeostasis as “the state of steady internal conditions maintained by living things. This dynamic state of equilibrium is the condition of optimal functioning for the organism and includes many variables… being kept within certain pre-set limits (homeostatic range).”

Okay, not everyone is a biology nerd like me, but I’ve always imagined homeostasis as being akin to a swing that someone sets going as hard as they can, then walks away. Thanks to gravity, the arc becomes smaller with each pass through the centre, until it finally stops there, thus achieving homeostasis. In my life, I’ve been the swing at the mercy of external factors (the kid experimenting with physics), and I’ve always been seeking the centre.

I can’t believe it took me until today to see how this analogy is so, SO wrong.

When it really hit me was when I looked up homeostasis and saw this: “the state of steady internal conditions maintained by living things.”

Wait, what? Internal?

So you mean, no matter what’s happening on the outside (happening “to” me), it’s what’s happening inside that helps me maintain balance?

Okay, you’re probably thinking, “Duh, Talena. You host an inspirational blog, for crying out loud. You’re telling me that you never realized that your attitude is your own responsibility before?”

Nope. I know that. This is just an area of my life I hadn’t applied it to before.

Yeah, I know.

I love plans and schedules. I love feeling like I’m in control (don’t we all?). I don’t love when my ideal “plan” is thrown out of balance and I must then deviate even further from that plan for a course correction. It makes me feel out of control, like I’m not fulfilling the expectations I have for myself while I’m deviating to focus so singularly on a single thing.

But is that the case?

I like being busy, and I am getting better at guarding my family time and my “me” time just as zealously as I throw myself into my work. But life happens, and that perfect plan is bound to need readjustments over and over again. Today I realized I need to stop thinking of those inevitable curves as this:

Photo courtesy of 123rf.com.

and start thinking of them like this:

Photo courtesy of 123rf.com.

In fact, this video about how to corner on a bicycle? This is a motivational, inspirational speech on its own.

Translate these cornering guidelines to simple rules of living:

Be prepared for curves to happen. They can be the most fun of all!

Before entering the curve, take a look around at the terrain and make adjustments.

Can you see the exit going in? (How long will this last?) Adjust accordingly.

Dig in and commit. Adjust your position to maintain equilibrium.

Keep your eyes on the end of the curve. Knowing where you are wanting to go is important for getting there.

Don’t put on the brakes when you’re in the middle. Giving in to fear is a recipe for disaster, so stay relaxed and just keep going.

“If you suffer a loss of confidence, slow down a little and then build it back up by gradually increasing your speed.”

What I loved most about this?

NOT ONCE did they say, “You should avoid corners as much as possible.” Nope, this was all about maintaining your equilibrium while enjoying the thrill of taking the curve at speed.

And that’s my epiphany. Because I love being busy. And I love tackling projects full on and giving them my undivided attention for short periods of time, even if it means that other areas of my business have to be put on a temporary hold. That’s not the norm, but sometimes it happens.

And that’s okay.

What I really need to do is to learn to love the adrenaline rush and embrace the thrill of the ride.

That’s what it means to keep “steady internal conditions.” To not let a curve throw me completely off balance, but to instead lean into it, handling it like a pro.

After all, swings are only fun when they’re moving.

Photo courtesy of 123rf.com.

Who knew that “maintaining balance” could be such a rush?

So, now that I’m psychologically okay with how busy I’ve been, here is the summary of what I’ve been doing and what’s coming up:

October to mid-December were full to the brim with putting out several knitting designs during knitting high season. I published four, which was more than I had done in the previous four years. One of those designs, the Just Plain Gloves pattern, has quickly become my best-selling pattern of all time.

I did that while I was waiting for beta reader feedback for The Undine’s Tear. Then we had a five-day holiday to see family at Christmas (the first time we’ve travelled for Christmas in a decade). The day after we got home, I began revisions on my novel so I could have it to my editor by January 7. (Nailed it!)

The day after that, assignments for Move Up began rolling in. I was given more responsibility on this issue than I’ve ever had before and a very short timeline. It was a bit of a learning curve and more than a bit stressful, but fun, as always.

Somewhere in there, I also revised my upcoming short story, “Up in Smoke”, and made my oldest son a scarf because he had a fashion vision and we were having a cold snap.

For the last week-plus, I’ve been working on getting the “extra” parts of my book (like acknowledgements, etc.) done before I get the manuscript back from my editor tomorrow, as well as beginning the next phase of its release (updating websites, planning the launch, etc.).

By next week, I should either be able to announce a May launch date or be able to tell you that there may be a slight delay while I go through even more revisions. I’ll also be looking for Advanced Readers (who get a copy for free in exchange for an honest review. If you want to receive an invitation to participate, sign up for my ARC Reader’s list: http://eepurl.com/c9LUY5

So. Coming up:

“Up In Smoke” begins its public run on February 15. To see this short story, subscribe to Constellate Publishing’s eZine on Patreon here.

The Undine’s Tear moves onto its next phase, with a tentative May release date. I’m looking for ARC readers to provide reviews. If you’re interested in getting a free digital copy, sign up here.

I’ve already started working on the next book, The Sphinx’s Heart. I’ll share more details about that book as they are invented. :-)

Also, this tweet from my editor about my book made my weekend:

The trouble with having amazingly talented clients is that I just want to rush read to the end because the story is so good, but I have to read slowly and actually, you know, do my job. I feel incredibly lucky that this is a problem I have.

— Ellen Michelle (@ellen_mic) January 25, 2019

[all the warm fuzzy feels]

Happy Wednesday, friend!

Working with Impostor Syndrome

Last January, I wrote this for my newsletter. It had such a positive response that I decided I would post it on my blog this year. I needed the reminder, too. :-)

“They’re looking at us! Quick! Act natural!”

January is often a time of reflection on our accomplishments—and failures—and resolving to do better. If you're anything like me, you have a long list of things you would like to accomplish. Or perhaps there is something about yourself you want to change—your weight or general health, maybe. Or perhaps you want to increase your skills in a certain area.

When it comes to self-makeovers, there is no louder voice about what "should be done" than the one coming from between our ears. And there is nothing wrong with self-reflection and a determination to do something better in the coming year.

But too often, we never even get past the first lap of the race toward whatever it is that we dream of doing. We take off toward the goal with enthusiasm, but pretty soon, we get a stitch in our side, the road goes uphill and gets a little bumpy, and we nearly get run over by a bicyclist whizzing around the corner. And we start to think that we don't really have the training for this sort of thing, and what were we thinking that we could run a marathon, anyway?

So we stop, sit down, and console ourselves with, “I'll do this later, when I'm ready.”

Now, there is something to be said for training and preparation. But there are certain things that we will never be “ready” for until we start doing them.

You can have all the driving theory in the world, but you won't actually feel like you know how to drive until you've been behind the steering wheel for a while.

I remember walking out of the hospital carrying my firstborn in his infant carrier, my proud husband beside me. I glanced at the receptionist on the way out, halfway expecting her to stop me. She didn't, which was silly. Didn't she know that I had no idea what I was doing?

Parenting is a "learn-on-the-job” career. But really, that's the way most of the things we want to accomplish work. We sabotage ourselves by saying that we will “do such-and-such a thing someday when I'm ready.” But believing we need to wait until we are ready to start is a big, fat lie that is hiding the real culprit: fear.

Fear is what tells us that we are an impostor who is unqualified to do whatever it is we want to do most.

Fear is what tells those of us who take the risk of stepping out and trying anyway that we don't deserve to be where we are, and that we are big phonies.

Fear is a prison that prevents us from discovering what we could truly accomplish and which keeps us from sharing our gifts with the world.

I'm going to share a little secret:

We all feel like impostors sometimes.

Fear is a healthy response, designed to save our lives by keeping us from, say, walking into traffic. But when it comes to accomplishing our dreams, FEAR IS A LIAR. It's like a false oracle that only tells us all of the most horrible (and often least likely) potential outcomes of moving toward our goals. And the thing is, fear itself can’t hurt you.

“We all feel like impostors sometimes.”

So this year, when you're looking at what you want to achieve and fear stands up and distorts all that shiny, beautiful light from your goals into something terrifying, ignore it.

If the goal looks big and scary, just focus on the next step. Watch the path right in front of you, and keep walking until the feeling passes. Then look up, and you'll discover that you've pushed through the fear, and you are closer to your goal than ever. And maybe you'll even feel a bit like you've earned the right to get there.

Life is a learn-on-the-job event for all of us. Just keep going, and you'll push through the lie to discover that you've done something you can be truly proud of.

After all, we're all just winging it. So just start.

Photos from 123rf.com.