Photo by Suzy Hazelwood from Pexels

The customer is always write

I mentioned in my last post that I found yet another way to keep my writing on track and that I might share it. So that’s what this post is all about.

Bagging your groceries…and my life
One thing I’ve learned from moving to a new province is that no matter where I am, living on a single income is frigging difficult. I took a pay cut when I moved to B.C., but it was worth it to me to be surrounded by the fresh, misty, ocean air that revived my soul at a time when I needed it most. I knew that pay cut would make life hard for me for the first two years, and holy shit, am I ever feeling it now. To try to cover my ass and stop buying groceries using my credit cards, I picked up a second job at a local grocery store.

I don’t want to work, I just want to bang on the typewriter all day
I worked at this store for one week, making minimum wage, when I realized the extra cash I was making wasn’t going to go far. I thought to myself, “Self…what the f*&k are you doing? You have two bachelor degrees, make them work for you dammit!” So I quit. It felt great. I really like quitting.

Now, you might be thinking that some cash is better than no cash, and you wouldn’t be wrong. I just figured I can get it another way.

You see, I get this weekly email full of freelance writing opportunities. These include publications putting calls out for short stories, essays, article pitches, etc. So, what if I took those 8 to 16 hour shifts I was working at the grocery store and put them towards writing article pitches and submitting my short stories for publications? Sure, it’s not consistent income, but it’s in line with my favourite thing in the world: writing.

If my pitches get picked up, then they’d be rewarded by a nice chunk of cash and my name would get published. It’s easier to apply for freelance opportunities once your name is published and you can send live links of your work along with your pitches.

All this extra writing will be excellent practice for me and it’s so much fun! And, isn’t that what life is supposed to be all about?

Yes. Yes, it is.

In my next post, I will take you on a journey as I debate whether or not to participate in Nanowrimo this year, and if so, how. I know…I said I really wanted to before. It’s not about a desire to participate, it’s all about my writing process. Stay tuned.

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Murder as motivation

Bodies in the water, writing fodder

I was cycling along my regular commute to my 9-5 job, when I glanced off into the waters of the Gorge, searching for a heron. I saw an unidentifiable blob of something or other, and immediately assumed it was a body. Obviously, if there is a body in the muck of low-tide, it is put there by nefarious means. Side note: this is familiar territory for me – I also used to assume garbage bags on the highway between Calgary and Edmonton were fully of body parts dumped by ne’er do wells. Anywho, this maybe body sparked an idea for a new novel. I don’t want to give too much away, except to say that it will involve the supernatural, murder, horror, and all those delicious, juicy, gory details.

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This is the Gorge. Sometimes bodies and feet are found here.

But, how does this new idea actually = motivation?

A new idea puts pressure on me to finish my current project, so I can give it life — insert maniacal laughter and statement: It’s aliiiiiiive! Pressure is like gasoline to a procrastinator.

I also have a date when I want to start writing this new book. Every year, I participate in Nanowrimo, which is in November, and I want to write this murderous tale during that competition. This gives me until November to finish revisions on Deer Ethan, which is an entirely attainable goal. Now that I’ve got the added excitement of creating this new one to keep me going, it has to happen. I will not let myself write the new book, until this one is done. And, I really want to write this new book. And, I really want this one done. So, there you have it, murder as motivation.

Thank glorb for good friends and notebooks…

As a side note, I want to express my gratitude for all the great people in my life. Today’s shout out goes to the friend who randomly handed me a notebook on the street. I’ve been giddily filling it ever since. Of course, as a writer, I’ve got notebooks sitting everywhere. Key word: sitting. Not being used. Languishing in their forgotten prison-like cube of a bookcase. The timeliness of this friend handing me this treasure (pronounced tray-zure), was on point, following after one of my previous posts where I lamented my lapsed habit of carrying one with me at all times.

Byeeee…but first…

…I’ve come up with another idea to keep my writing on track. I may, or may not, share this in my next post. Stay tuned to see if I do! Or not. It’s really up to you. I hope you stick around though, and keep reading, commenting, rolling your eyes, whatever.

write, writer, book, novel, writer's life, writing process

Solution: Force the levees to break

Can we fix it? Yes, we can!

It’s only been a few days since my last post, but I think it acted as a form of emotional catharsis. Since I wrote it, I’ve successfully jotted down multiple ideas in a notebook, read a lot, revised some of my own novel, finished a draft of an article for Beautiful Bizarre Magazine, and started building questions for my next interview.

The parts that I’m most proud of from the list above, are the revisions on my novel and having the notebook on hand to write something down on (thanks to a good friend for buying one and handing it to me moments before a Ghost Walk).

Now, I’m not saying that I am fully healed and set to go. No. But when I woke up this morning, I took a deep breath and instead of launching myself into my regular routine that prioritizes everything else but writing, I stayed in bed and read. I started my day off with words. I gave myself permission to do so, which, for me, is very hard to do.

I think admitting to and letting out what I had been feeling gave me a sliver of acceptance. It’s out there now. I don’t have to swallow it anymore. Here’s an alliteration party for you: swallowing slivers sucks.

I’m thoroughly convinced now that this blog is going to be an important piece of the motivational puzzle that helps me get through the revisions on my novel, and back on the consistent writing train. These posts will act as breadcrumbs on my trail home.

…sick of the cliché’s yet? Me too.

Signing off,

Angela

Thanks for reading!

The man in the alley

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Photo by Elti Meshau from Pexels

The night was cold and I quickened my steps home, wanting to put on warm pyjamas, wrap myself in a blanket and soothe the chill of the damp out of my bones. As I turned the corner into the alley, that’s when I saw him. He was a dark shape at the end of the alley, outlined against the night by a lone street light.

His silhouette suggested he was human, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why that thought crossed my mind. What else would he possibly be? But, something wasn’t quite right. There was a crookedness about him, slight and barely perceptible. I felt dizzy as I looked at him, as though his posture tilted the way the world was oriented and somehow I was the one that wasn’t quite right.

He remained unmoving there, standing right next to the entrance to my apartment.

I took a deep breath, felt in my pocket for my keys and gripping them in fingers that felt like blocks of ice, readied them as a weapon. My heart pounded and I picked up feet that now felt like leaded anchors, taking slow laborious steps towards him. I saw the steam of his exhales mingling with the air as I got closer, and I became acutely aware of the sound of my boots hitting the pavement: the clop-clop of the heels echoing hollowly off the walls of the buildings around us, an intrusive noise in the otherwise unnatural silence.

He shifted suddenly. I stopped. That one move made me more uncertain of him. His stillness had become predictable, but now he’d changed the game and I no longer knew the rules. It was a game I didn’t want to lose.

“Hello?” I called.

This post was the result of a five-minute writing prompt—I’ve made some edits so it’s readable—from a workshop I recently attended, hosted by The Story Midwife. I’d highly recommend going to it if you’re:

  • struggling with writer’s block,
  • just starting out writing,
  • have never written before,
  • have been writing for a long time and want to connect with the writing community,
  • want to jumpstart into a creative life, 
  • ….and many more reasons.

Do you have a highly-effective writing prompt or method of practice that keeps you focused on the page? Please share!

Lykos: seven sentence short story

I like to attend writing conferences and workshops; they’re great for networking, inspiring new ideas and motivating work on current projects. A few years ago I was at a workshop hosted by Edward Willett, a science-fiction writer based out of Saskatchewan, at the When Words Collide writing conference in Calgary. This particular workshop was themed around creating a short story using only seven sentences. I’ve used it a few times to get my creativity flowing before delving into work projects, or a novel.

Here is the format (I hope you forgive me for sharing, Edward):

  1. Introduce what the main character wants and actions he/she takes to get to a goal.
  2. Write actions that make the situation worse.
  3. Based on this new situation, your character takes a second action to accomplish the goal.
  4. Results of the second action he/she takes make everything worse.
  5. Based on the new situation, your character takes a third, final action to accomplish the goal.
  6. Three options are now available: the third action either accomplishes the goal, fails to accomplish the goal, or there is an unusual but oddly satisfying different result.
  7. Denouement: wraps up the story, provides a moral, tells how the character feels, or how his/her life continues.

Lately, I’ve been inspired by tarot card decks—the art and individual card meanings creating story ideas in my mind that are begging to be written. I combined that inspiration with the seven sentence structure above and drafted this today:

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Cards from the Wildwood Tarot deck
  1. Wanting nothing more than to become a wolf, Juniper took to tracking a wolf pack on nights of the full moon, hoping to get one to bite her to begin her shape-shifting process.
  2. One hot midsummer, she got lucky—or unlucky, depending on your perspective—and stumbled on a pack dining on a fresh deer corpse.
  3. Heart pounding in excitement, she ran into the midst of their group, crying out in surprise and elation at finding them and then in pain as a silver-grey wolf took a bite out of her calf.
  4. Exulted that she had received the bite that would begin the transformation, she started to back away, wanting to go home and let the change happen, but stopped when she heard multiple menacing snarls and growls.
  5. Moving quickly, she got down on all fours and began to eat what they had been eating, her stomach turning as she bit into the still-warm flesh of the newly-murdered deer corpse.
  6. The wolves moved closer to her, surrounding her, and she felt them nip and bite at her, tearing her flesh from her bones.
  7. Trying to get up and run away, the pack covered her and she let out a howl of pain, in her last moments sounding like the wolf she hoped to become.

I’d love to read anything you come up with if you use this prompt. 🙂 Share in the comments!