Sandra Tayler's Blog, page 118

Three Snippets from the Second Day of Baycon

I was sitting at lunch with Mary and Kimmi. For them it was a discussion about Mary's upcoming GoH interview with Kimmi as the interviewer. I was along for the food. The con was not in full bustle around us, but there were lots of interesting distractions. This was when my phone rang. The kids at home had locked themselves out of the house. I directed them to our backyard neighbor who has a key. I also spent several minutes calming a distraught Gleek, who was afraid that she would have to spend the night without the backpack full of security objects which had been locked in the house. They got the key, liberated the all-important back pack, and the kids went off to their aunt's house for a sleepover.

I've gotten phone calls from home mid-convention before. I have one pretty much every convention I attend. It is often quite hard for me to stay calm because the calls bring out into the open whatever guilt I may be feeling about leaving the kids to attend the convention. This time I was not rattled at all. While the fate of the backpack was in question, I knew that two responsible adults were right there to help the kids deal with whatever outcome there might be. It was more amusing than anything else and gave me a story to tell when I got back to the table with Mary and Kimmi.

***

Mary's signing here at the convention was pretty much the antithesis of the perfect signing. It was held during the dinner hour, wasn't in the program book, the dealer's room had already closed (so no one could buy books), and she was tucked away in a corner room far off the beaten path. Mary was cheerful and amused about it. She and I sat and talked for an hour. We were joined after awhile by a member of the convention staff with whom we had a lovely conversation. He took notes about how things should be different in other years. As Mary said it, conventions always have troubles of one sort or another. Things get mis-communicated, double booked, or overlooked. The key is for everyone to learn from the errors. And the Baycon staff have been wonderfully attentive in every interaction I've ever had with them.

***

I sat at a table in the lobby next to the bar with an ever-shifting group of authors and editors. I'd been there for several hours already and never once been bored. As people came and went I always had someone new to speak with and learn about. I had several quite-extended conversations with people I'd never met before, but with whom I hope to keep in touch. The night extended into early morning and I was still in my chair half from inertia, I finally pulled myself from the group and made my way upstairs. Tomorrow I have plans for tracking down my new acquaintances and visiting more.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Traveling, Baycon, and Getting Settled at the Convention

I meandered through the San Jose airport looking at shops and pausing to admire several art installations. I had no one to mange but myself. It was odd. I counted back through my memories and came to the conclusion that I have not traveled solo since I was 19 years old, single, and a college student. Even then my parents came with me to the gate and Howard met me at the other end. (We were dating, but not yet engaged.) I was not afraid to be in an unfamiliar airport by myself. I've done enough traveling to know what to expect even when I don't know the exact locations of the things I expect.

San Jose is a mix of things familiar and things new. I grew up only 45 minutes from here. I see the palm trees, ground ivy, yellow hills, and part of my brain says that I've come home. Right outside my hotel window is the Great America amusement park which was the cool place to go when I was a middle school kid. I was looking at the architecture as I rode in a taxi to the hotel. It is quintessentially California with all those early spanish influences. The colors and red tile roofs would be exotic except that they are so familiar.

Baycon itself is also a mix of things different and familiar. Other than Mary Robinette Kowal, with whom I am staying, and John Picacio, whom I've met briefly on a couple of occasions, I didn't know anyone. I do now. Conventions are like that. After the Mingle with the Guests event, I have new blogs to look up and people with whom to keep in touch. The feel of convention hotel is very familiar. The vibe of the attendees is comfortable. Yet everything has a slight spin which reflects the local aesthetic and zeitgeist. The most different part is being completely at my own disposal.

On the first evening I discovered yet another small adjustment I need to make professionally. The very first moment I was called on to introduce myself I said "I'm Howard Tayler's wife." It was a useful hook because the other person then connected me with where they'd seen me before, unfortunately it also emphasized the wrong part of who I am. Here at Baycon I'm trying to be Sandra Tayler, writer rather than Sandra attached to Schlock Mercenary. Mary helped me rehearse a better introduction and has flawlessly introduced me to many people in ways that make me sound interesting. There was a moment at breakfast this morning where someone I'd been talking to for an hour finally connected me to Howard and lit up with delight. It made me happy, in part because having someone be delighted at you is always a positive experience, but also because it meant that the respect I'd been getting before was all earned by me rather than bestowed upon me by my association with Howard.

I was at the Mingle with the Guests event and Mary introduced me to a friend. I ended up telling about my writing for a little bit. In a moment when the friend was distracted by something else, Mary leaned over and said "Do you realize that you keep stepping backward like you're trying to flee?" I looked down and realized that I was indeed at least two feet from where the conversation began. I had been slowly moving the conversation because I'd take a tiny step back and others would step forward to keep within good talking proximity. It wonderfully expressed the tentativeness I feel when presenting myself for my own works rather than the associations with others. I think I shall also find comfort in it because they did step forward so that we could continue to talk.

Thus far my conventioning without Howard experience has been a good one. There are edges of missing home and kids, occasional moments when I feel odd or misplaced, but on the whole I am having a great time.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Facing Blogging Fears or Joining Amy Sundberg's Backbone Project

One of the hard parts about making a living in the publishing industry is our complete dependence upon the goodwill of people we've never met in person. Most of the time our interactions with fans bring us joy. Other times are hard. Whether the words arrive as an email or a blog comment, my stomach sinks and I am afraid. The missive is from a person who is declaring that Howard or I have offended them and that they will no longer support us in any way. Most of the time the person is obviously trying to be polite despite the fact that they are upset. It would be easier if they were unreasonable and I could dismiss what they have to say.

My first reaction is always to try to make it better. I want to erase the offense, particularly if I feel it was in any way merited. My back brain churns into overtime composing and re-composing possible responses. The truth is that, at best, I can sometimes smooth a little of the anger or hurt. I can not change their mind. Sometimes all I can do is sit frustrated because as far as I can see the offense has to do with something in their head and nothing we did wrong. Even if wea are not at fault, it lingers in my mind. I'm left to wonder who else we have offended who did not take time to email or comment. In my mind's eye I can see all of the fans packing up and quietly spending money somewhere else and leaving us without an income.

This is my fear and it is antithetical to being a daring blogger. Every time I post, or Howard posts, I know it is possible that someone will be offended. So I phrase myself carefully. I try to make sure that the posts are balanced and see all sides of whatever issue I am discussing. It has become second nature to me to see multiple sides of any issue. What is truly terrifying, and what I rarely do, is to take a stand. The minute I do, I know that I have alienated the people out there who disagree with me. I don't want to alienate readers, in part because I like being able to afford things, but even more because I honestly don't want to hurt anyone. Yet people can not grow if they are not challenged. I am truly grateful to the writers out there who are willing to blog their thoughts because through them I can begin to see the world in new ways. Some things are important and being conciliatory will not get them noticed or changed. I do myself, my readers, and the world no favors if I stay silent out of fear.

I was thinking about all of this when I read about Amy Sundberg's Backbone Project. Amy intends to write three posts in which she will not be wishy-washy. I think she has offered a good challenge and I shall try. I will write three posts where I dare to address something I've been afraid to write. I will try to address it in such a way that readers are encouraged to participate in a conversation on the topic. Then when disagreements arrive, I will attempt to keep the comment conversation open rather than deliberately choosing responses (or non-responses) which discourage further comment.

My fears of creating an internet brouhaha are not unjustified. I've seen it happen. I've also read stories about how internet notoriety spilled over in life-destructive ways. Every day bloggers discover that things said online have real world consequences. Lena Chen recently wrote an interesting article in Salon magazine talking about the consequences of her fearless blogging and how she learned to be much more cautious about the things she wrote. She jumped into the deep end and made her way out. I'm starting from the other side, dabbling my toes in the water and contemplating swimming out to the dock. But I will swim. I j ust need to space out my daring posts. I expect this challenge to be somewhat anxiety inducing and I'll have to carefully time the posts for days when I have the time to hover over comments. This post represents a beginning.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Packing for the weekend

When Howard goes on a trip, packing is always a source of worry for him. This is not because packing is complicated. Packing just ends up as the focal point for all the various stresses ahead. When Howard gets within a day of departure and his bag is not yet packed, he gets anxious and cranky. He needs the physical representation of being prepared.

Last night I sat in my chair after writer's group and stress descended upon me. Howard saw it and asked if I was all right.

"You know that feeling you have when you're leaving on a trip and you're not packed yet?" I answered. "I feel that right now and I think it is focused on the childcare situation."

My statement was a tightly controlled response, deliberately calm in opposition to how I actually felt. Odd that I can feel that everything will be fine and also want to jitter in panic at the same time.

"Sounds like making childcare arrangements is first on tomorrow's list." Howard said.

And so it was. I now know where the kids will be while I am in California and Howard is at CONduit in Salt Lake. I have the framework upon which I can build meal plans and instructions for the kids. I will arrange things and then I will let go.

I am not the only one planning for this weekend. Several weeks ago we pondered the logistics of Howard managing a dealer's table by himself and determined that he needed a minion. We mentioned the job to Kiki along with the possibility that this might be a paid gig. There was a road block in that she would have to miss school on Friday. I set the problem aside to think about a different day, but Kiki did not. She talked to all of her teachers. She made arrangements to take a final exam early and to turn in homework assignments. She calmly and responsibly cleared Friday from any conflicts. She is going to CONduit with Howard and is quite excited about it.

Working a table is not the only source of excitement for Kiki. She is also putting some of her work into the art show. Yesterday included a last-minute scramble to select pieces and matte them. There were difficulties, matting is a skill which neither Kiki nor I possess at expert levels. But the job got done and the show is prepared. Whether or not her pieces sell, the experience of preparing for a show is a good learning experience for her.

Other preparations for this weekend involve Patch and Gleek. I have been working with them so that they are more independent at bedtime. For years our bedtime routines have been heavily dependent upon me being present. The structures were rigid. First snack, then reading with snack, then reading in bed after snack, then talking with mom, then a dozen excuses and delays, eventually sleep. A week ago I declared that they needed to practice putting themselves to bed. It was their job to track the time and get everything done. The results have been mixed. I'm still heavily involved in keeping them focused, but bedtime has been more fluid and they are beginning to step up and take responsibility rather than shouting at me if I try to skip steps due to the late hour. I don't know how well bedtime will go when I am removed from the equation, but they have better ground work for success than they did a week ago.

The preparations are coming together. The pieces are starting to line up. My clothes are not yet in a suitcase, but I am beginning to feel packed.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

What Works in Blogging

In one of my online writing forums I have been following a discussion about what works and does not work in blogging. I found it fascinating that as the discussion developed everyone assumed "working" to mean "attracting traffic." It is a valid discussion to have. In fact it is a critical discussion for a fiction writer who is using her blog as a promotional tool. However I found myself feeling a bit defensive about the whole thread, because for me traffic is not the primary measure of what makes a good blog post.

I've noticed a trend in blogging, it has become an established form. The blogger writes something interesting or insightful and then ends the post with a series of questions. The purpose of the questions is to engage the reader. It is an attempt to invite comment and hopefully make the blogging experience interactive. Unfortunately for me the questions often have the opposite effect. They feel like those Chapter In Review questions at the end of a textbook chapter. They say "This is what you should take from this post." I never liked answering chapter review questions and so questions slapped on the end of a blog post often feel alienating to me. Often, but not always. Sometimes the whole shape of the post builds up to the questions and they flow organically from everything that went before. Then I am engaged, sometimes even enough to lure me out of my lurker mode.

This is why writers need to realize that blogging is its own form. It has demands and structures which need to be learned. Then you can blog in ways that engage with the intended audience rather than boring or alienating them. Fiction has genres, so does blogging. Using the structures of a mystery novel when writing epic fantasy results in a broken novel. Using the structures of an informational reporting blog when writing a personal blog makes the posts feel disjointed. Ultimately blogs which understand and use the appropriate structures will end up gathering an audience.

So how does a writer learn these blogging structures? This is trickier because blogging is a relatively new form. I know there are informational books out there which teach blogging. There are blogs about how to blog. Even the forum I read was full of useful information about when and what to post in order to draw more traffic. Ultimately the answer is the same as for any other form of writing.

1. Read lots of the kind of writing that you want to do. This teaches the structures to your subconscious.

2. Practice, practice, practice. Don't be afraid to let it be awful at first. Everyone goes through the early awkward stages. Consistent practice will teach you what your voice needs to be, and your voice will be different from anyone else.

As for me, I'm trying to overcome my defensiveness about discussions of blogging among the genre circles where I hang out. Not everyone needs to love blogging for its own sake. It is perfectly valid to keep a blog as a news feed or promotional platform. I just love it so much that I want everyone else to see how beautiful and wonderful it can be. I'm still not perfect at it. Not by a long shot. I need to learn those deliberate "engage with the audience" tools which I saw under discussion. Engaging is scary. There is the possibility that contention or conflict will result. I don't like that. There is also the awful possibility that my attempts to engage would be answered by virtual crickets. Yet I can see the power of a blog post when the post generates a conversation among those who read it. So here is my experimental attempt to engage without getting all Chapter-in-review-y. What are one or two blogs that you read which you feel are excellent and why do you feel that way? (Please include links. I'd love to expand my reading list. And yes, you can tell me about yours.)

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Taking Apart a Computer Monitor

A few years ago Gleek's school class sent notes home advertising a "Take Apart" day. They wanted old appliances or technology which was broken so that the kids could take things apart and see how these familiar objects looked inside. We happened to have a broken laptop to send with Gleek, which thrilled her. She had the coolest take apart item in the class. Since that day, Gleek often requests broken things so that she can take them apart. I figure there is no difference between recycling the thing whole or in pieces, so when I have something I let her.

On Sunday Gleek and Patch took screwdrivers to my broken flat screen monitor. It was fascinating to see all the layers that go into making a monitor run. The kids loved unplugging the circuit boards and pulling loose the screws. We were fascinated to discover that the monitor screen had five layers. There were three thin sheets of various refractive qualities, one liquid crystal board which had electronic inputs, then a thick polycarbonate sheet which also refracted light in interesting ways. We examined the tiny florescent light bars before recycling them as possibly toxic when broken. Bits of metal and plastic went into the bin as well. I must admit I was as fascinated by the process as the kids were. I have a better idea of what makes monitors work. We kept the circuit boards and the interesting refractive sheets. I've got my eyes open to figure out what broken thing we can take apart next.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

A White Woman's Thoughts on a Black Woman's Post

Today I read Tempest Bradford's post alerting her readers that Wiscon will have a room named The Safer Space which is set aside for people of color to meet and have discussions which are pertinent to them. The logic behind the decision to have the space is outlined in her post. I'm not going to be attending Wiscon this year, but I found myself pondering this choice in a cascade of thoughts. I particularly pondered it because I am considering attending Wiscon sometime in the future.

First I felt alienated knowing that there is a place at Wiscon where I would be unwelcome.

Then I pondered that the alienated feeling is rare for me, but that there are people who feel that every single day. I thought that this mild feeling of alienation was probably good for me as a reminder of how privileged I am in so many areas of my life.

Then I wondered if increasing the quantity of alienated feelings in the world is a good thing for anyone.

I re-read the post and completely agreed with Ms. Bradford's statements that communities need private spaces which are free from judgment by those outside the community.

Yet I still felt alienated and a little sad, because The Safer Space would probably be host to dozens of conversations from which I could learn. I know that I am ignorant on many racial issues. Hearing those conversations would teach me much, but I would be excluded from them.

I thought about posting my thoughts on the issue, then pondered whether as a middle-class white woman I have any business posting opinions about an issue which is not mine.

But shouldn't the issue of inclusion and exclusion belong to everyone?

I pondered whether my thought processes might be interesting/valuable insight for the people who suffer at the hands of racism to explain why so many people stay silent. Not because they don't care, but because they're afraid to offend. Unfortunately silence sounds like support of the status quo. Speaking up is scary, particularly on the internet. There is the chance of saying something ignorant or offensive without meaning to. Speaking up risks exposing my prejudiced or racist thoughts. We all have them because the human brain is wired to categorize. It takes conscious effort to see the people in front of us rather than categories.

In the end I decided to be brave because silence does not increase understanding. Only conversation does.

Some people think that The Safer Space is important and necessary. Others feel that it is an additional barrier to understanding. I'm not sure which position I hold. I'm still learning the issues and afraid I'll get it wrong. But I know that having a conversation about the existence of The Safer Space is a step in the right direction.

I welcome commentary, please disagree politely. I'll use my moderatorial powers to make disrespectful comments disappear.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Preparation for Challenges

Yesterday I wrote a lovely post about how I'm going on a trip because I need to challenge myself and my children. So naturally I am going to spend the remainder of the week deliberately setting out to make sure that everything is as easy as possible for the folks at home. I will do all the laundry, make meal plans, stock the fridge, and a dozen other pre-planning things. Am I undermining what I hoped to achieve. Maybe. But I would like us all to experience a bit of a challenge not a major trauma. I don't want to set anyone up for a stressful mess. Also, if I do everything I possibly can in advance, I hope to be able to shut down the guilt circuits in my brain. Then I will be able to focus on the other purpose of the trip, which is me getting to do something I've always wanted to do, but never dared to allow. I'll have three days during which my primary factor in minute to minute decisions is "what do I feel like doing?"

So hypocritical or not, I'm off to make lists and get everyone prepared.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

Removing the Invisible Help

"Next weekend is going to be really different." I said to the kids gathered around the table for Sunday dinner. "I'm going to be gone all weekend." They accepted the news almost without comment. After only a short discussion of likely ways that things would be arranged, the kids moved on to talk of other things. I wanted very much to plan specific details, call people, get commitments. Instead I let the conversation drift elsewhere. The whole point of my going is to force me to stop trying to manage everything and to let them step up and sort challenges without me jumping into the middle. It is very hard for me to stop helping.

Everyone has assignments around Sunday dinner. I called Link into the kitchen to clean and set the table. He came slowly and worked at the project with many moments of distraction. Three different times I found myself picking up garbage or dirty dishes from the table. I was right there. I wanted the job done. I was only helping a little. Three times I carefully put the thing back down. I am fully capable of "helping a little" so much that I do 90% of the work. Learning to work is important. Learning to tackle challenges and over come them is important. These are things my children must fight for and struggle with. The more I help, the less task completion will feel like a victory. I know all this logically, and yet I pick up dirty socks instead of making the kids come get them. I put away back packs. I mop up water on the bathroom floors. I sit next to a child and help with homework. All of this is so habitual that I don't even realize how much help I'm providing and my kids have no idea how much work they do not do for themselves.

Helping and serving are good things. I know that they are, which is why so much of my energy goes into them. Children need to be helped and taken care of. They need to be nurtured. They also need to be challenged. At some point the mother bird has to stop bringing worms and start shoving the baby bird out so it can learn to fly. Humans are far more complicated than birds. There are hundreds or thousands of aspects of growth. Kids need their financial costs covered until their late teens (or longer), but they need to start cleaning up after themselves when their ages are still in single digits. The trick for a parent is figuring out where to challenge and where to nurture. I am really good at making life easier for those around me. I have a hard time making things challenging.

So I will be providing a challenge by removing all the invisible helping I do on a daily basis. I'll be away for three days. I'll also be challenging myself by going someplace new which will only have a few familiar people. I expect there will be fun. I also expect that it will be hard for all of us. Yet we'll come out of the experience having learned new things. It will be good. More importantly it will show us all the hidden assumptions we carry. From this new knowledge we can craft new patterns in our family structure so that I am not overburdened and so that the kids are learning to fly.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.

At the Beginning of the Query Process

I first saw this picture over two years ago. My thought upon seeing it was "Oh that's it exactly." It was how I expected to feel at the moment I sent a query to off to an agent about a completed manuscript. I was so sure that this was how I would feel that I emailed the artist Ida Larsen and asked her permission to use the picture in a blog post. She kindly gave it. I filed a digital image, ordered a print, and then took a really long time revising my book.

I sent out that query letter today. To my surprise, this picture is not how I feel about it. I expected sending queries to feel like my first step into a world of adventure and danger. Instead it feels like sending a kid off to school. I worked, cajoled, and struggled to get the thing ready to go. In theory I should be worried or excited, mostly I just feel relief. For the next little while the future of my book is out of my hands. I can rest. It will come back, probably rejected, perhaps with more work for me to do. I expect it to come back many times. Then I will expend effort to send it out again. Eventually, hopefully, someday it will sell. At which point I will have yet more work to do. Not having work feels very good at this moment. I can look around and pick my next project.

So what is this book that I just sent off to two agents? I call it Stepping Stones. It is a book of essays in memoir form about one woman's struggle to balance work, family, spirituality, community, and self. The essays are drawn from the essays I've written in this blog. They are combined in such a way to tell a narrative spanning about two years. If you like this blog, you'll probably like the book and vice versa. I hope you all get to read it as a book someday because it contains lots of things which never got mentioned in the blog.

I must say that there is a sense of satisfaction in having a book in the query process. It is a milestone, a marker that I actually finished a book instead of dwelling endlessly in revision land. I know that this will not change the opinion that my friends have of me, but I feel incrementally more confident about myself. This is a good thing.

Mirrored from onecobble.com.