C.S. Starr's Blog, page 3
May 20, 2014
A Happy Announcement
Come November, there are going to be some big changes in the Starr-Reid household.
Sushi’s getting her own room.
Kidding.
We’re having a baby (apologies for the clickbait).
It’s been hard keeping my mouth shut about this very exciting news, but we’ve made it to 13.5 weeks, and for those of you that see me on a semi regular basis, there’s not really any honest way I can explain my voracious appetite, 2pm treats, and bulging midsection without you thinking I’ve got some sort of eating disorder, and despite my best efforts to not care what people think, I do, to a certain degree.
For those of you that have been following along, it’s been a long time in the making, this news, and it’s very exciting to finally be able to (somewhat confidently) share it. We’re both slowly but surely moving from pessimistic to deliriously happy. There’s no guide to having what you want, particularly when it comes to pregnancy after miscarriage. I’d be lying if I said I felt much besides anxiety when I took my third confirmatory pregnancy test, anything but nerves when I got my blood test confirmation, followed by three more that told me that my hormones were moving in the right direction.
The thing about pregnancy post-miscarriage is that you know, full well, that there’s not necessarily a baby at the end of the road, because you’ve hit a dead end before. You know that what’s going on inside you could be the miracle of life, or it could be an emotional ticking time bomb, ready to detonate and blow your world apart (again) at any moment. The only moments of relief I felt in the first 12 weeks of this were when we were actually looking at the baby via an ultrasound (I’d made my way to a fertility center via my family doctor a few months before another year had passed, so I had access to fairly frequent ultrasounds, or I’m pretty sure I would have been a wreck most every day). For the first twelve weeks, we happily accepted the pictures they’d give us of what started looking like a wiggly peanut, but put them away to look at them at some later date, when we somehow felt confident that they wouldn’t eventually break our hearts. Last week, at our NT scan Baby Reid (which took an hour and a half because Baby Reid isn’t a cooperator) finally started to really look like a baby.
We both held back this time, to the degree that we both wondered if we were beginning to become cold, detached people. I wasn’t expecting my mind to put up such a protective barrier around my heart, but it was there in the beginning, in a real, concrete way, preventing me from forming any sort of attachment between minute or two glimpses inside my womb. We told the odd person here and there, some out of necessity, and some simply because it felt very jaded to keep it all deep inside when, for all intents and purposes, we were having a very normal (even easy) pregnancy.
Eventually though, it got easier to tell people what was happening (though I made Matt make every announcement when we were both there), easier to take a deep breath and accept that that twinge of cramping doesn’t mean the sky is mere seconds from falling. I’d like to pretend I’ll stop examining the toilet paper after my umpteenth pee of the day for traces of blood, but I don’t think I will, probably not until the very end. Not until I’ve climbed the hurtle I imagine labour will be, and have something tangible.
Something tangible and real and wonderful that I will probably spend the rest of my life worrying about, which is an overwhelming idea in itself.
Top to tail, it took us around two years to reach this point. I have no idea how many vaginal exams I’ve had in that time, no idea how many hours I’ve spent sitting in waiting rooms, no idea how many times I’ve spelled out my sexual history, mentioned my PCOS diagnosis, explained what little information I could about our miscarriage to anyone that would listen and pay attention to us medically.
The thing is, we were really lucky, and we’re very aware of it. After 10 months of trying, we knew we were physically capable of getting pregnant. After another 9, we’ve made it into the maybe/kind of/sort of safe zone second trimester. We didn’t have any intervention, apart from a hysterosalpingogram to check my tubes (turned out, one was blocked, which was likely why it took us longer than our seemingly uber fertile friends to get pregnant) which seemed to shake some debris free, maybe. I was on the edge of clomid for the odd irregular cycle and cycle monitoring, and had an appointment set for some sort of tube unblocking procedure, but we were extremely fortunate and managed to get pregnant the cycle before all that was scheduled to begin. Things were wrong. Fortunately for us, nature decided to circumvent all the roadblocks.
Which she can do sometimes.
These past two weeks, as we crept the end and somersaulted out of the first trimester, I find myself smiling more. It’s not the confident, probably arrogant smile of my first time at the rodeo a year ago. It’s one of more of an acceptance of the possibilities of my current state, combined with an understanding of the importance of finding those moments of assurance in which is certainly an uncertain time. It’s outgrowing your pants, and not the kind of outgrowing that happens after you devour a pizza, but more the unyielding type that will not be tamed by a meager zipper. It’s not recognizing your breasts in the shower. It’s being acutely aware that people around you are playing the fat or pregnant game more and more each week (everyone that bet on pregnant, you were right!).
So, that’s our news. It’s pretty huge and life changing, but it’s an adventure we’re both thrilled to be able to begin.
May 6, 2014
And Then, There Was Paper: West Is A Real Book!
There’s nothing like a paper book, right?
Right!
When I first started writing, I kind of had myself convinced that e-books were the future, and that it wouldn’t mean that much to actually see my book as a real, tangible thing.
That was bullshit. It’s actually awesome. See?
Sushi can hardly contain herself.
Clearly I’ve been gardening.
It’s been a bit of a wild couple of months for me. Not necessarily in bad ways, but generally, each day has been a bit of a lesson in taking what’s thrown at you and running with it. I think I’ve done an okay job of managing it all, while keeping my sanity. Perhaps because of that, and also perhaps because West is the penultimate book in my first series, it felt especially good to hold it in my hands and feel that wonderful feeling of accomplishment after hours of writing, editing, and formatting. Making sure I was setting the stage for the end of the book, while keeping everyone in character over the span of three books was a unique challenge, one which I’ve enjoyed (though the next project I take on will be a single volume).
It took me a while to get it together, but finally, I can provide you with some links for the print book!
I’m also going to order some copies, and I can send them out if you want a signed one, but shipping is a bit exorbitant, and you’re better to buy from one of the links above unless you really want my John Hancock and we don’t see each other often. I’ll also post the Amazon.ca link when it’s available, but it’ll be a few weeks likely and both of the links above will ship to Canada.
I’ve also managed to secure some local Nova Scotian distribution via my wonderful sister-in-law, Michelle’s new cafe venture in beautiful Bear River. She and her family are the new owners of Myrtle and Rosie’s Cafe and she has offered to carry a few copies of each book in her cafe! I’m going to order them shortly. If you want a copy to pick up there, let me know, and that will determine how many copies I ship her way.
PS. If you’re in Bear River, I hear marvelous things about the food and I can’t wait to check it out when I’m home for a visit in July!
Just as a reminder, the e-book is available at:
I’m still waiting for the Smashwords catalogue to populate Kobo, AppleBooks, and Barnes and Noble. I will keep you posted on developments here. If you have a Nook or a Kobo, you can order from Smashwords and read it on your e-reader, but I know that’s annoying, and I’ll get you a kink ASAP.
I also have an Amazon Author Page (about time, right?)!
Now comes the part where I ask you a favour (as if asking you to check out my book isn’t enough). If you read Campbell or West, can you please take a couple of minutes and leave a review where you bought it? I’m not asking for a good review (though I hope you like them), but an honest one to help me get the word out. Since I’m a two-bit operation, word of mouth helps me in a HUGE HUGE way.
To those of you that have left reviews, you’re amazing. Come visit me and I’ll bake cookies or something.
Thanks again for all the support!
CS
April 15, 2014
West has arrived!
One of the hardest things about self-publishing is setting deadlines.
I’m happy to say I made mine for West, the second book in my series!
Made it, for the most part.
There is an e-book. It’s available in all of the expected e-book forms. I don’t have a print book yet, but it’s coming, soon. I promise. Life’s been a bit crazy, and I’m actually pretty proud of myself for pulling it all together on time (with some fantastic help).Over the next bit I’ll be posting blogger reviews too (thanks, bloggers). In a perfect world, I would have already had some to provide, but slowly but surely, I’m getting better at all of this. It’ll be a goal for the next book (which is mostly written)!
In case you missed it, here’s the description:
After her world was turned upside down by the death of her twin and a new alliance forged through an unexpected friendship, Lucy Campbell left West determined to return to her old life.
It took four years and a natural disaster for her to admit that was impossible.
Hatched from a lie devised to keep them both safe, the conflict with East has affected Lucy and Tal Bauman in different ways. It’s left Lucy engulfed in a bitter power struggle with her war-hungry brother. It’s forced Tal to align himself with Campbell, despite questioning their motivations in continuing to attack East, when peace seems attainable. He’s also left to sort out the mess left behind by his predecessor and best friend, Connor Wilde.
When they are reunited by a tragedy, Lucy and Tal are forced to question how far their duties stretch, where their loyalties lie, and how far they would go for one another.
They’re also left reevaluating their morals, values, and the futures of those around them.
West is the second book in the Campbell trilogy.
If you have a Kobo, Nook, or use iBooks, here’s your link. West should be posted on Apple/B&N/Kobo shortly, but it’s at Smashwords for now. I’ll do the whole link catalog when I have them.
If you use a Kindle and you’re American, here’s your link.
If you use a Kindle, and you’re Canadian, here’s your link.
If you use a Kindle, and you’re in the UK, here’s your link.
I’ve also lowered the e-book price for Campbell if you’ve been waiting to have a couple of books to read. It’s dropped on all platforms but might take a while to show up with the lower price outside of Smashwords.
If you’re looking for a print book, I’m working on it this weekend, I promise, and I’ll post the information when I have it. This weekend is the weekend where I hunker down and put that all together. If you’re local and want a signed print copy of Campbell or West, send me a message on here, or on Facebook and I’ll start an order list.
If you’re not in Toronto, I’m happy to send print copies out, but I was fairly shocked by the price of shipping the last time I sent some (but we can still work something out). If you’re in Nova Scotia, really want a signed copy and can wait a bit, I’ll be home in July and can do deliveries to the Digby area.
Again, thanks so, so much for the support. I hope you’ll let me know what you think!
March 21, 2014
Cover Release for West and a Deal!
So things are moving along with West, the second book in my trilogy. I’m excited to announce that it has a Goodreads page, and a few wonderful bloggers volunteered to do cover releases on their blogs!
More importantly, perhaps, it also has a publication date!
West will be released on April 15th in all e-book forms (Amazon, Kobo, Apple, Smashwords) with the print book to follow shortly after.
I also have a small favour to ask. If you’ve read Campbell, please, please, please leave a review wherever you purchased it, or wherever you can. This can be on Amazon, or wherever, but also spreading the word on your social media platform of choice would be amazingly helpful. I can’t thank those of you enough that have posted pictures, or links on Facebook and drawn people’s attention to my book. You’re really, really helping me out. Since I’m an independent publisher, I count a lot on word of mouth, and reviews go really far in helping people decide if a book is something they might be interested in.
I’ll post links to West as soon as I have them. In the meantime, check out one of these blogs to see the cover and blurb!
I’m also running a Goodreads contest for a free, signed copy of Campbell.
February 18, 2014
On Fourteen Years and New Ink.
I’m aware that I’ve been blog absent for quite some time. Every time I’ve sat down to write something it hasn’t felt like something I wanted to share, so I’ve drafted it. Maybe someday it will be, and I’ll do a series of posts about the woes of fertility challenges, and how depressing, alienating and isolating they are, but today is not that day.
It’s been a long winter for everyone. No one needs to hear my shit (not even me). Today, I’d rather share something that makes me smile.
The story behind these somewhat goofy tattoos that now adorn our sides (don’t mind the ick. They’re still fresh from Sunday):
I first saw Matt sitting across across from me in my friend Jill’s basement when I was sixteen. I had another boyfriend at the time, but he and I had run our course, and were both looking for an out (in hindsight). Matt wasn’t that out, though someone did ask me if I’d go to his prom with him without his knowledge, and I turned it down because it was weird that someone else asked me (he had no knowledge that I’d been asked on his behalf).
Anyway, a bunch of stuff happened. I made an awkward break with the boyfriend at the time (awkward because we continued slinging doughnuts and coffee at the same Tim Hortons for another 8 months or so after that). Matt and I found ourselves at a number of the same parties, and our friends started dating, so we started hanging out more.
Valentine’s Day isn’t my favourite holiday by a long shot. It’s commercial, cheesy, and puts love in a box of sorts, insisting that there is one day that it should be expressed more than others, which is BS.
I can say this at 30. At 17, I was just really excited to finally have a boyfriend on Valentine’s day 2001.
I don’t remember what I bought Matt for Valentine’s Day that year, but I did make him Caroline and Matt Lego Minifigs, which still hang out on his desk in our house and a very cheesy card that would probably make me grimace in embarrassment today. I recall getting a lot of chocolate and a loud, flashing bear of some sort that said cheesy phrases. We’d been dating around six months. I love yous were exchanged (a first for both of us). Sex was considered, but pushed off for another month or so, probably because of the never ending stream of interruptions one is subject to when they live with their parents, and because both of us were horrified about getting pregnant (if only we’d known, right?).
It was a good day.
The thing with spending 14 years with someone is that you have a lot of good days. Some of them are better than others, some are the days you remember specifically in their entirety, and some you pull bits and pieces from that make you smile.
All of those days (over 5000!) add up to a lot of shared experiences, mutual memories, and things that stick in one person’s mind and not the other. I forget when I messed up Matt’s hair with the clippers right before we went to university, though he never fails to remind me when I get near a set of clippers. I’m sure he forgets the time he dropped me and I hit my head on the radiator in his bedroom (or he’d like to forget it).
The older I get, the more aware I am that we don’t have a relationship like everyone else. 14 years has given us a great deal of insight on one another, and the ability to know how far things can be pushed, when quiet is required, and when an argument isn’t worth having because we already know what the outcome will be, and it’s easier to skip straight to that part and move on. It’s a careful dance that we’ve mastered through trial and error, and continue to improve on every day. I always think it’s hokey when people say they’ve married their best friend, or their soulmate or any of those immeasurable tags that make people feel like they really know the other person, but in real terms mean very little. Matt and I are a partnership that spans many facets of our lives. Over 14 years, we’ve supported each other financially, in our careers (we’ve both read a lot of stuff that’s of no interest personally for the other person), emotionally, in good times and bad. Our relationship is constantly evolving as we change, which I know is no small feat when you go from being a high school student in a small town, to an undergraduate in university, to foreigners living in a country where you don’t speak the language, to graduate students, and finally to varying levels in our careers. We can both look at each other and know that we’re not the same people we started out as, all those years ago, but also know that we each played a vital part in the people we’ve become, which is a very special thing.
I have a short attention span. I’m good for a 40 minute show, but I’m hard to get to commit to watching a movie most of the time, unless it’s something I really want to see, or that catches me in the first ten minutes or so. Matt, on the other hand, would watch several movies a week if time allows. I’m the kind of person that watches movies out of the corner of my eye while I’m doing a lot of things, including writing, or dicking off on the internet, and he’s the type of person that’s happy to give one his full attention and feels like I haven’t experienced a movie unless I do the same.
Anyway, I missed Moonrise Kingdom when it was in theaters, or I probably would have dragged Matt out to see it, even though it’s not really a theater movie. We’re both huge Wes Anderson fans, and I *think* I’ve now seen everything he’s done and enjoyed every bit of it, even the stuff that was questionably good, because it was so darn nice to look at.
I don’t remember the particulars of the day we watched Moonrise Kingdom, but I remember it was just what I needed. If you haven’t seen it, run to wherever you get/see movies and make it happen. You won’t regret it. It’s a joy to watch, a return to a simpler time, a reminder of a kind of love that exists without question when you’re young, and life hasn’t shat all over you in a million ways, and you’re not responsible for a million things beyond simply feeling and being.
There’s this scene in Moonrise Kingdom where the two amazing kids see each other across the meadow after a year of careful planning via handwritten correspondence (of course they did, it’s a Wes Anderson movie). And that’s it. There’s no debating, no worrying about consequences, they’re just together. It’s lovely and simple, and more often than not, mirrors the way Matt and I have proceeded for the past 14 years.
Work and planning is required in life, but the relationship should never be the work.
We’ve been mulling over some sort of joint tattoo for some time. We’re not really the heart type, and neither of us would ever be so ridiculous to ever get anything that identifies the other stuck on us permanently (we love each other, but we’re also jaded realists). Lots of possibilities were discussed, but we both have very different taste and tattoo styles in mind, so it was hard coming up with something that we could both live with and relate to, and that would make us smile when we were apart and together.
So there you have it. Watch the movie. The tattoos will make sense.
Next up: I give myself a deadline and you a pub date for West (it’s in final edits, I swear).
January 7, 2014
On Home, Space, and Personal Challenges.
My husband and I bought our first home about a year and a half ago, after sharing five apartments, and a dorm room with bunkbeds with his best friend in university due to a dud roommate.
Together, we’ve survived sweltering summers without air conditioning, frigid winters without adequate heating (you haven’t lived until you’ve been terrifyingly close to burning down a Japanese apartment building via your tatami mats and a space heater), we’ve survived hurricanes, snowstorms, and ice storms (though by survive, I mean drove to Florida just before, sat in the sun on the beach, and returned just after). Our house survived it, save for a few sad houseplants.
We live well together.
Rationally, we probably shouldn’t.
His idea of a perfect house would be minimalism at its best. Everything would be multifunctional, devoid of colour, and stark. I…like stuff. There’s this William Morris quote that’s something about only keeping things in your house that you believe to be useful or beautiful, and I follow it to a tee, though I don’t really apply it the way it was intended because I think lots of things are beautiful.
He’s not sentimental, the kind that reads Christmas cards and is content to throw them away immediately afterward. I love nothing more than looking at things and remembering a time, place or person. When I travel, I usually bring things back. Usually a piece of pottery or a print. Sometimes both. I have an amazing assortment of things that I’ve collected and that have been gifted to me that (I think) all fit together and make my home a comfortable, warm place.
We compromise. I turn my head when he throws out the Christmas cards, and he builds me attractive shelving for my worldly possessions so they have a place.
Right now, I’m looking at a life-sized carved wooden plover that my grandmother bought somewhere because she thought it was beautiful, next to a jar of sea glass gathered by my dad. When I brush my teeth, I’ll see a set of water colour postcards I salvaged from a heap of stuff someone who left Japan before I did left behind. When I crawl into bed, I’ll see the antique trick dog bank that my mother sent along, after I asked for it.There’s a lot of stuff. It’s all got a story. I don’t keep things I don’t love.
When we started looking for a house, about two years ago now, we knew two things: first, that we were going to pay a lot for a little, and secondly, that even if it was a little, it would still be much, much better than where we were living at that time, sandwiched between a Taiwanese hoarder (though in her defense she was lovely), and a crack-addicted father and son (who were not so lovely). House hunting was both wonderful and horrible, as there’s nothing quite so enjoyable as being about to look inside the places people live (except in the case of the flop house on Cosburn), and nothing as depressing as becoming invested in a home and having it snatched away in a late-into-the-night bidding war. I don’t know how many houses we looked at, but it was probably upwards of 60.
I remember first coming to see our current house with our agent and instantly feeling good here. There were places I didn’t feel good (I don’t know who bought the house on Sammon with the ghost, but I’m glad it wasn’t me), but this one wasn’t one of them.
A family lived here. It was clear that their agent had given them some very specific advice on staging, and we were both a bit thrown off by the way things were arranged and where they were possibly hiding a second teenage daughter in a two bedroom house, but the space was open, in relatively good repair, and there was potential. It wasn’t a gut job, it was move-in ready, and within our price range. It had a yard.
A yard.
There were three possible contenders for our house that week. All in all, I’m happy with the way the chips fell, despite spending the next six months dealing with the asshole contractor that was renovating (and ruining) the other side of the semi, and subsequently living next to a fighty couple that we have nothing in common with when the renovation was finished (seriously, who smokes outside in this weather?). Even living across the street from a very racist old man affectionately (or not) called Poppa John hasn’t been so bad when contrasted with our past living conditions.
I love my house. I hate the kitchen, and the bathroom, and I wish we had a third bedroom, and that the basement ceiling was higher, but I love my house. I love it because it’s mine (in another 20 years), and because it has almost endless potential, limited only by the confines of our lot, and my imagination (and budget, to some degree).
We’ve got time though. And we both like a challenge.
This past fall, finally recovered financially from our trip to Italy, and a gluttonous summer, decided to do a month-long challenge, in the name of saving some money and cutting our (read: my) caloric intake.
We didn’t eat out for the entire month of September. Now, to some of you, you might think this isn’t a big thing. It probably shouldn’t be a big thing. Here’s the thing though. We live in a city with a zillion restaurants. Eating out is a pretty key way to socialize with people in a time effective way, since you can take care of two needs at once.
It’s also hella expensive. I don’t track my eating out budget, but Matt does, and whenever he tells me what he’s spent (since he is a gentleman, and earns more than I do) in a month, I get a little cringy (and imagine a new bathroom vanity).
So we did the month, only breaking to eat out for unavoidable work functions. It went well. We both learned to cook some new things, combined with running I lost a bit of weight, and both of our bank accounts thanked us heartily. We went back to eating out in October, but were and continue to be a bit more mindful of how often. In November, we decided to try a new challenge, and went dry for the month. That went well too, as we both knew we had a lot of Christmas parties in December and we certainly weren’t going to do it then. We succeeded at that one too.
For January, we’ve implemented a new challenge, but it’s a bit more involved and is a little harder than waving off a glass of wine now and then. I’m addicted to Apartment Therapy. If you’re unaware of Apartment Therapy, I advise you to block off some time and start with the house tours. It’s an amazing site full of great projects, inspiration, and much more, and, if you’re like me, and like looking inside other people’s spaces, it’s, bar none, the best place to do it.
Every January, Apartment Therapy runs something called The January Cure, which is a challenge aimed at starting the new year in a good state of mind when it comes to your home. There are daily challenges, and by signing up via email, you get a nice note each morning telling you what your challenge for the day, or weekend is (there’s a calender too, if you like spoilers). Last weekend, we spent around 5 hours vacuuming, sweeping, and mopping, which couldn’t be done until everything was put away and dusted and moved around. Another part of the challenge was also to buy flowers. I’m also looking at a lovely new orchid, just below the wooden plover.
I started this week feeling really good though. There’s something great about coming back to a space that you feel comfortable in, and proud of. My peel and stick kitchen floor tiles have never looked better (we’re replacing them, promise). I’m a homebody (secretive or not), and it’s important that my home feels safe and secure. I spend a lot of time here. I dream here, I write here, my most important relationship plays out here.
There’s no way making this a better place to be could ever be a bad thing.
The challenges aren’t all physical. Yesterday, we contemplated what our dream kitchen would look like from a vantage point we wouldn’t usually take. Today, we set up a physical “outbox”, where we can stick the things we aren’t sure about until we are sure about them, one way or another. It feels good, to not be attached to the things that aren’t worth attaching yourself to. In it? Some little wooden kitchen boxes that I’d bought at The Bay for the sake of buying a few years ago.
I won’t miss them.
When I imagine my home in the future, it’ll be well-curated, and a reflection of us. Things will come and go. I’ll get wiser with my buying decisions. The next set of pots and pans I buy will hopefully be our last. We’ll pay more for better things and take the time to save for them. Things I love, that are also functional.
We’ll continue to compromise and ask each other the hard questions, about wants and needs, and work hard to clean the floors more regularly.
December 26, 2013
On Putting Yourself Out There and Resolutions
A couple of weeks ago, due to a series of interesting circumstances, I ended up having a minivan for about a week. I normally drive a Jetta, so this was a bit of an adjustment. It was hard to park in the city, I felt like I was peering down at the world below me, and I had no idea how close anything was to my rear end. It wasn’t fun.
I ended up getting a flat tire in the van on the way to do my Christmas shopping, which was the start to one of the most introspective days I’ve had in a while. I got in a fight with the tow truck driver when he refused to put the dummy tire on and tried to tow me to a car wash instead of a garage in a blinding snowstorm. I told him I was going to complain about him, and eventually he agreed to take me across the street to a garage, where I was told that it was going to be 2-3 days to put a new tire on the van, since everyone in Toronto waited until the first serious snowstorm to put snow tires on and they were very backed up.
The head mechanic must have caught my face drop, because after telling me all this, he followed up by telling me he’d fit me in and to come back in a couple of hours, which was just enough time to do my Christmas shopping.
I know not everyone that reads this blog knows my husband, but he’s got a series of largely positive qualities that both impress and infuriate me. He’s frustratingly levelheaded and annoyingly rational. I called him when I knew I was going to have to deal with the tow truck driver, and he hopped on the subway and sat in the freezing cold van while we waited an hour for him to show up. He listened to me argue with the tow truck driver, watched the mechanic make an exception for me, and when, three hours after I’d set out that morning, we sat down for lunch and I started on about reporting the tow truck driver, he asked me something that didn’t make everything better, but it provided a pretty important reality check.
He asked me if I was going to write a positive letter for the mechanic as well. I hadn’t even thought of it until he brought it up.
I haven’t written letters for either. Not yet.
There are a lot of things that no one tells you when you publish a book. Although I’ve been writing online for a number of years, I’m not sure I was prepared for what it feels like to slap your name on something and have people tell you what they think of it.
I’m not sure it’s possible to be prepared. I don’t mean this in an entirely or even mostly negative way. I have as hard a time responding to praise as to criticism. I’ve never had a well-developed ego, though as I cross into my thirties it is becoming a more tangible thing.
I’m not naive enough to think that the first book I published was going to be for everyone. In fact, I’ve spent a lot of time worrying about the number of people that bought it because they know me through real life or my other writing, and would never otherwise pick up a book like Campbell because it’s not their thing. I worried about the expectation that those around me would feel obliged to buy my book because they know me. I worry a lot about what people would think of me based on the contents of the book, especially more conservative readers, like people that know my mom. My best possible outcome was that more people would like it than not, and so far, they have.
Fiction is subjective. I’ve read a lot of fiction that I didn’t enjoy that’s won some impressive prizes. I’ve stopped reading a lot of books partway through because they didn’t catch my attention. I’ve loved a lot of things and never written reviews for them.
My New Years resolution for 2013 is to worry less.
Another resolution is to focus on the good.
I know the internet isn’t always a very nice place. I’ve been hanging out here on and off for over a decade now, and it’s really a lot like the Dave Chappelle skit. I’ve had my fair share of heated conversations with people over differences of opinion over the years, and I when I decided to put myself and my book out there, I knew there would be people that weren’t into it. Working in the industry, I’ve seen reviews both personally and professionally that are spiteful, mean, and completely nonconstructive in every way long before Campbell was a twinkle in my eye. Not everyone sets out to read or review a book with the aim of helping the author improve, and that’s fine. It’s not the average reader’s job. I’ve been lucky to have a number of people that I have a great deal of respect for that have been willing to do just that though, and that’s been awesome.
I knew when I started Campbell, that it would be different than anything else I’ve written, and that was exciting. I knew there would be people that would want more back story than I was willing to put into book one, since I’d already imagined how they’d fit into the following two books. I didn’t write the world’s most identifiable heroine because I wouldn’t read that story. I didn’t give it a cut and dry ending because you don’t get that in life. One thing I knew though through every late night, every deleted paragraph (and there were a lot of them), was that I was writing the book I wanted to write. That is the overwhelming reason I decided to put my blood, sweat, and a few (formatting) related tears into self-publishing.
I’ve got drafts of three mostly complete projects sitting on my computer. This series was the first thing I’ve written that I wanted to put out there. I keep a running list of future dream projects (including one with pirates, though not of the space variety, E), some of which I’m sure will appeal to an entirely different audience. I think that’s okay. I plan to do this for a while.
It would be really easy to obsess over the tiny bit of negativity that’s seeped in since publishing Campbell, but I know if I did that, it wouldn’t help me become a better writer, and that’s my personal end goal. Instead, I’m going to choose to focus on the overwhelming amount of people who read Campbell and enjoyed it, and keep writing. I’m going to think about the people that I’ve reconnected with that have read it and, despite having not talked in years have dropped me a line to let me know they liked it. The few excited discussions about it that I’ve happened on in random places. The people who have asked me to send them autographed copies. The readers that have asked questions that I’m excited to already have written the answers to in book two and that have made me think about the world I’ve created in more critical terms as I work on book three. I’m going to focus on the amazing authors and bloggers that have been willing to share their thoughts on my book with their audiences.
In 2013, I’m going to focus on writing the good letters over the bad. At the end of the day, they’re the ones that make the world a better place.
On that note, thank you, thank you, for making my first year as an author a very exciting one. At the end of the day, you should write for yourself, but all authors dream of having people read and engage with their writing, and that’s been the best gift anyone could give me this holiday season. I’m looking forward to many more books and years with you.
CS
December 10, 2013
Campbell Giveaways! Share Some Holiday Cheer!
So I did a little math today, and realized something very exciting.
I broke even on Campbell this week! This means I can officially finance the second book, West (not that I wouldn’t have anyway, since it’s already with my editor)!
When I published a month ago, I remember saying to Matt that I’d be pumped if a few people read and liked my book. I’ve been blown away by the positive reception and support I’ve gotten in both my real life and online! You guys are amazing.
In case you’ve been able to ignore my incessant Facebook posts and Tweeting, here are some links to my reviews on Amazon and Goodreads.
In order to celebrate, I’d like to give away a few copies of the Campbell e-book (since my stock of print books is now depleted)!
Remember, even if you don’t have an e-reader, you can download the app of your choice (Kobo, iBooks, or Kindle) on your smartphone and read there! If you’re really, really wanting to enter a draw for a print copy, you can enter my Goodreads giveaway.
Here’s how to play/help me out with some holiday promotion:
Twitter: Retweet this link, complete with the #Campbell hash tag and whatever else you want to say. I’ll give away a book to an existing retweeting follower and a new retweeting follower (anyone that begins following me today and beyond) on Friday, December 20th.
Facebook: Comment on this post, and share my Author Page (https://www.facebook.com/CSStarrwrites) on your wall with some niceties (hopefully). I’ll give away one e-book there on Friday, December 20th as well!
If your retweet or Facebook share gets me a new follower, and you’ve already read Campbell, I’ll enter you in a draw for an advance copy of West in early February!
Thanks again! If you have any questions for me, hit me up! In case you’re new here, here’s a link of places you can find my book online.CS
December 3, 2013
On Writing Adventures
My mom still has the first book I ever wrote. It was a paperback, tacked together with those little gold paper fasteners. Construction paper was involved. Many colours.
It was a book about fish. Specifically, snorkeling with fish in the Bahamas. I think I was around six. There weren’t many words. Lots of colourful fish. I did a lot of snorkeling as a kid, living and traveling on a boat. I knew the names of all the fish.
As an adult, writing is good for stretching the imaginative legs. I’m fortunate to have a fairly active travel life via work and otherwise. When I travel for work, I’m usually alone, and after my day of socialization is finished, it’s an indulgence of mine to take some time and wander around wherever I am. Sometimes, I’ll head out a day early and take the whole day and slide into an observer role, watching how people interact with the landscape and each other.
I’ve never really written about somewhere I haven’t been. As someone that doesn’t writer terribly descriptive prose, it’s certainly possible to do it, but it helps me a lot to get in the right mindset when imagining what people would do and feel in a specific place, because it’s been my experience that places feel very different when you’re actually there versus how you imagine them.
In October, within the span of three weeks, I was lucky enough to visit the setting of both Campbell, and the second book in my trilogy, West. Initially, I picked the town that would become Campbell on Google maps, because it was midway between lots of things, and unremarkable in many ways; just another town, similar to the one I’d grown up in population wise, with a few historical highlights (Brokeback Mountain was filmed there), but nothing that would interfere . I noted a few things about the town that made the story plausible; proximity to farms, the US border, a few Aboriginal reserves, and started writing. Over the years, I’ve been to Calgary a couple of times for work, so I had a general feeling for the terrain, and the type of people that live there, so it didn’t feel like such a stretch to imagine a town about an hour south.
I ended up back in Alberta for work this fall, and through a series of strange coincidences, ended up in Lethbridge for the day with a rental car. When I wrapped up for the day, I decided to take the twenty minute drive to Fort Macleod, because, realistically I probably wasn’t going to do it otherwise. It’s out of the way, and as much as I like Calgary, it’s not exactly high on my list of vacation destinations.
Southern Alberta is flat, but not. It’s boxed in to the west by the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, and while most of it is flat, there are these giant dips called coulees that drain down to the rivers that snake the landscape. The drive down from Calgary is striking, and I had the perfect day for it, with blue sky forever and warm temperatures. Because it was October, everything had dried up, leaving the prairie golden yellow.
Fort Macleod was, as I expected it to be, which, as a place I wrote a book about, was reassuring. It was small, surrounded by farms and fields as far as the eye could see. There were a few advertisements for upcoming subdivisions with property prices so low I wanted to throw up a little, coming from Toronto, and even Calgary. Founded as a RCMP post, Fort Macleod thrived for a while, but, like so many towns on the way to somewhere bigger, faced a series of population and employment challenges. I loved that the Wikipedia page describes the town’s most notable occurrence as a UFO sighting in 1956. Other websites noted the town’s rivalry with Lethbridge as a point of interest, and the seemingly endless disputes with the Canada Pacific Railway, which pulled out of the town and left it to die in 1912.
I thought, perhaps, I’d have dinner in Fort Macleod. The community’s downtown is a designated Alberta heritage site, with many buildings dating back to 1878. I thought, if nothing else, I’d pick up some piece made by some local artist to remember the town by.
Unfortunately, by the time I arrived there around 5, the town had all but boarded up for the night. I managed to find a gift shop, but nothing in it was locally made with the exception of the fudge, which I purchased, almost out of obligation to leave a little money in a town that I’d mentally spent so much time in. I only got to talk to one person, the woman at the gift shop, and she immediately asked what I was doing there, in a way that indicated that not many people were just ‘there’. I explained that I worked in publishing, and that I had been in Lethbridge for the day for work (perhaps I hit on a nerve there), and that I’d googled towns around Lethbridge (rubbing salt in the wound, maybe), and that I thought I’d come and check out the downtown, since it was a heritage site (I wasn’t quite ready to say I’d bastardized her town in fiction).
Her next question was if I was traveling alone. I noted that I was (I travel alone habitually), and she said that wasn’t very safe, for a young woman like me. I explained that I did it all the time, and I’d never run into any problems. She wrapped up my fudge and wished me the best of luck.
It was in that moment that I knew I’d nailed Fort Macleod in Campbell.
After departing with my fudge, I decided, since it was still full daylight that I’d take a drive to Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump. I knew I’d missed the UNESCO World Heritage Site museum, which closed at 5, but I thought it would be an interesting drive, and it was. When I got there, I was met by a group of Blackfeet that worked the site, and they invited me in, despite being closed, while they were cleaning up. I wandered around a bit, looked at the stuffed buffalo, and spent some time taking in the amazing scenery, nestled in the foothills. It was easy to imagine Lucy and Bull exploring the site as kids, talking about Blackfoot things, and getting to know one another off the pages of the book. I didn’t hike around too much because the manager of the UNESCO site gave me a bear warning, so I spent my half hour there and headed back to Calgary, in time to catch the prairie sunset.
I’ve been to Los Angeles twice. I’m really lucky to have an amazing group of girl friends there, who are always welcoming and accommodating, and oh, so much fun. My friend I stay with lives a run to Pacific, and was really fantastic about driving me to a checklist of locations that I’d written about in both Campbell and West, and pandering to my silly questions about earthquakes and the weather (though I didn’t explain why I was asking them at the time, I think she understands now). It was interesting to imagine dystopian Los Angeles with a much smaller population, less busy freeways, smaller, tighter pockets of people living in the most prime locations in the best houses left behind. A Los Angeles without laws, or rules to keep order. It wasn’t hard to imagine lawlessness changing all that much in rural Southern Alberta, but in Los Angeles, the stakes would be entirely different.
It’s all interesting to think about.
Next up: Florida for the holidays.
November 26, 2013
Campbell: Print Books and other Sundries
So, a lot of you have been asking about how/where/when to purchase my book, Campbell in print form.
The answer ended up being far more complicated than I ever could have dreamed.
The short answer is that it is available, and it’s lovely, and I’m very, very excited about the print book!
You can buy it on Amazon.com here. It’s not yet available on Amazon.ca (it takes 6-8 weeks to list). I’ll let you know when it’s up there.
Or you can buy it via my printer/distributor, Createspace, here.
Because I heart you all, I’ve also created a 20% off discount code that you can use on Createspace: 3JQCKNW9
Createspace also has cheaper shipping if you’re in Canada.
I also posted a list of places that you can find me/buy my books here.
As I mentioned before, if you cannot afford to purchase my book, but would really like to read it, drop me a line and we’ll figure something out. I’m not doing this to get rich, and storytelling is a major motivation in why I write.
If you would like to buy a signed book (This feels totally weird, and I’m not sure anyone would, but I thought I’d see, since a few people have asked), I’m going to consider buying some and mailing them out. I haven’t entirely decided on the terms yet, as I’m a very Mickey Mouse, one woman operation here and it’ll involve me ordering copies, then shipping them by hand, but if you decide you want that option, contact me here or via my Facebook page and we can chat about it. Because two rounds of shipping will be involved if you live outside Toronto, it’ll be more expensive than ordering it via Createspace, but I’ll do what I can to make it reasonable. If you live in Toronto, I’ll hand deliver it to you, but you might have to buy me a coffee or something sweet 
.
[contact-form]
I have to say, I’ve been so thrilled at the reception to Campbell so far. It’s really weird to think about people out there, reading the book I wrote, but I’m really happy that those that have so far seem to be enjoying it. Writing is this weird thing that’s done in secret, behind closed doors right until the end, and I think for many of us, there’s a real inclination to hold onto it until it’s perfect, which is never is.
Writing the book isn’t the hard part, it’s letting go of it. Thank you, for catching it and spending some time with it. It means a lot that you’d trust me to tell a story that you might be interested in.
I’ve sent book two, West (there’s a sneak peek in the back of Campbell) to my editor, and I’m hoping to publish that one in February 2014.
I’ll leave you with some more quotes about writing from some of the greats.
