When Good Crafts Go Bad - the Holiday Blog

Note: I wrote this piece last year for the Second Wind Publishing blog on Wordpress, but figured it was worth a re-print. Merry Christmas

My husband has jokingly commented on several occasions that I have been channeling my “inner Martha” ever since I was displaced from my job in September. (In between the activities of my job search I will admit that I have been involved in a number of home improvement/beautification projects, and yes, I will further own up to having experimented with ideas from various issues of Martha’s magazine with varying degrees of success.) All of his jokes evaporated last weekend when he came home from work to find me, both kids, the dining room as well as most of our house coated in a fine glaze of glitter glue.

“What the h--heck are you doing??” he asked as he surveyed the dining room table covered in an old (but clean) shower curtain, about 20 plastic cups sprouting balloons draped with glittering strands of yarn, and the trail of glitter footprints (child sizes 5 and 11) across the floor towards the rest of our house.

Our youngest piped up with, “makin’ ormanents” reaching for one to show his father and knocking a recently finished balloon out of its cup, spilling the still wet yarn coated in glitter glue onto the floor as the balloon bounced about leaving splotches of glitter glue in its wake.

Stunned, he stood there for a few moments until he was handed a handful of the glitter glue yarn. Handing it to me and shaking his head, he left the room muttering something about ordering pizza, then canceling my subscription to Martha Stewart Living, and calling in an exorcist.

If patience is a virtue, I am rarely a virtuous woman

During a recent chat over lunch with my career coach, we got on the topic of what I am learning from my experience searching for my next position. Having a slightly sarcastic side to my personality, I had to exercise a great deal of restraint to keep my response appropriate to the context and company. Later that evening, having been unable to get the conversation out of my head, I realized that there are quite a few “take-aways” from this experience and not all of them negative. Perhaps the biggest for me is learning to have patience.

When it comes to me, personally, I have never been a particularly patient individual. I tend to expect a higher level of performance from myself than I would ever expect of anyone else. This characteristic once prompted a therapist to say to me, “Maggie, perfection is about heaven, and in case you haven’t noticed – you aren’t living there.”

Generally, I do tend to achieve whatever I set out to do. Unfortunately, what this means is that if for some reason my expectations are out of sync with reality, patience is in short supply. There tends to be a lot of introspective analysis of where I got off track and what it will take to refocus my efforts to reaching whatever end-state was so blasted important in the first place. Ironically, this rarely, if ever, spills over onto others and I am incredibly patient with children, even my own. Go figure.

This job quest is teaching me (the hard way) how to be patient with myself in general, but more specifically, when things are beyond my control. It has also taught me that there are a lot of things in this world that are beyond my control. A very sobering realization, I must admit. At the same time, I have discovered that one thing is universally in my control and that is how I respond to the situation.

This isn’t to say that I am serenely going about my day, calm and secure in a place of Zen. I’m not. Not even close. There are days that I am barely keeping it together and there are days that I can actually forget that my situation is so tenuous. And in between those two extremes are a lot more days where my expectations align with reality.

And now for some Halloween fun...

My publisher is doing a "Trick or Treat" clue game in honor of Halloween. The clues will be embedded in excerpts from novels by Second Wind Publishing authors. So go to the Second Wind Publishing Blog (http://secondwindpub.wordpress.com)and join the fun on October 26th!

Excerpt from my novel, A Love Out of Time. (paranormal romance)

Taly was about to flash out to check on Jack when he felt himself start to dematerialize. This had not happened to him since sometime in the 11th century; the experience was one he had hoped never to undergo again. Flashing through time did not cause him any pain; it was no more of an effort to walk across the room. Being summoned, on the other hand, was like being sucked through a keyhole. He barely had time to grab his latte before he vanished.
He rematerialized with a roar of pain and in his natural form. Moira looked up from her position on the floor by the candles and brazier. Her mouth forming a silent O before delight crossed her face and she leapt up yelling for her brother. Karl came at a run, but stopped short by the sight of his sister leaping about like a child at Christmas in front of a seven-foot demon holding a grande cup of Starbucks.

The lure of the dark-side – anti-heroes and anti-heroines

I have to admit that I really enjoy a story with a well developed anti-hero. I’m not talking about the basically good guy who has had a string of bad luck or a tough life. I am talking about the true post-modernistic archetype: someone who can not easily be defined as a villain or hero. These are characters whose attraction hooks you and reels you in as strongly as they repulse you on some basic level. There is just something about these characters that fascinates me. Their complexity can lead a carefully crafted storyline down some totally unexpected twists and turns of the mind, but you have to admit – it can be an adventure. It is a character type that is well suited to both paranormal romance and stories dealing with espionage as well as sci-fi/fantasy literature: all genres that appeal to me as both a reader and a writer. In my own writing, I am finding myself including anti-heroes or rather heroines on a fairly regular basis, but something I discovered, which surprised me, was how difficult it is to create an anti-heroine.

These women characters exist. Consider Scarlett O’Hara, any number of roles that Angelina Jolie has played, and – my personal favorites – Nikita from the story La Femme Nikita and Murbella from Frank Herbert’s Dune series. The creation of an anti-heroine seems fraught with many of the same issues that confront women in real life, from business to social settings. A delicate balance must be struck between the characters “good” qualities and those that are less appealing.

So, how does one craft such a creature?

From my research into the female anti-hero, it appears that beauty or physical attractiveness alone is not enough to off-set the brutality, amoral behavior, or ruthlessness needed for a true anti-hero. It seems to take a combination of physical beauty, innate intelligence, and some sort of triggering event – but not the jaded, “world-weary” technique often seen in the male anti-hero – to set the stage for a believable, or rather acceptable, anti-heroine. If the balance isn’t achieved, one is left with a psychotic or clichéd character.

Whether or not I can create a true female anti-hero in my own writing remains to be seen, but I am going to have a lot of fun with the process.

Can you judge a book by its cover?

I was in the market for a bit of “mind candy” reading the other day and went to my local bookstore to see what might satisfy my literary sweet tooth. As I wandered through the different genre sections, I began to notice something about the books that actually made it into my small pile of “potential” purchases. Each and every one of them had fantastic cover art or photos. Convinced that I was being led astray by “glitz & glam” rather than a good story, I took a few moments to look beyond the book jacket or back cover teaser and read some pages from the first chapter as well as randomly selected pages from later portions of the books. Out of five possible purchases, only one book was returned to the shelf as a dud. For kicks and grins, since I had nowhere pressing to be, I picked up some books with really awful (as in boring) covers and checked out their teasers as well as random pages within. What I discovered was that book covers can provide some indication of what you can expect between the pages; with the exception of well-known, award-winning authors who can do anything they please in terms of covers and still expect a sale.

My grandmother was fond of the “you can’t judge a book by its cover” philosophy towards life but I think, noble sentiment that it is, it falls flat as a practice for a new author competing with the known for book sales. This is not to say that an intriguing book cover is about spending a huge amount of money on models, photo shoots, or buying art. It is about finding something that connects the reader instantly with the theme, and combined with the teaser draws them into a well written story. The three elements must balance because a slick cover and a “sexy” teaser may get the book to the cashier, but without a story to back it up, you won’t have anyone waiting for your next book.

Is being realistic in actuality a form of pessimism or vice versa?

My father once told me that a pessimist is nothing more than an optimist who has had his, or her, teeth kicked in one too many times.

As I approach the end of my severance period, and face the distinct possibility that I will have to find a way of living on unemployment compensation while I continue to look for a job, I have been thinking about the difference between being realistic and being pessimistic. I have also been thinking that maybe my father had a point.

When my husband was laid-off a few years ago, we had that nice cushion in savings that all the financial gurus recommend. We were able to cover the difference between unemployment compensation and what he made before he was laid-off. The cushion was something we believed we could build back up once the dust settled. Unfortunately, it didn’t. His industry was one of the first to start to feel the downturn in the economy. Our cushion dwindled down to nothing by the spring of 2008. In the spring of 2008, the company I worked for gave notice that headcount reductions were coming, and I realized that we both might be out of work for a period of time.

Despite my concern, I knew that I was going to be fine, regardless of whether or not my head was actually on the chopping block. My “day job” as a project manager is one of those professions that lends itself to both contractor/consulting or permanent employee status, so I was sure that, even in a down economy, I would find something since companies still need to get projects done. My husband landed a new job with good benefits, so if the worst happened, I saw my situation as a potential to recoup some of our financial losses through the generous severance package the company was offering. As it turned out, I was cut in the fall, but I still remained positive that I would have a job by January.

My optimism was rewarded and I did in fact get an offer for a six month contract to hire position to start in January. Unfortunately, for me, the company lost funding for the position and I found myself back in job search. I had a rough couple of days (okay, it was weeks) before I shook it off and got back in the game, even more convinced that I would have a job offer before my severance period ended. Again, my optimism was rewarded with another twelve month consulting opportunity that was to start in May. This time, I thought I had nailed down all those pesky little issues that might make the offer less definite – like did the consulting company actually have a real contract with the client company as opposed to a gentleman’s handshake. Unfortunately, again, due to circumstances beyond my control, the client company has pushed off the project start date, twice; changed direction for its project; and added more requirements that it wants in the project manager, some of which I am lacking. It is looking like I may not have a job after all. Unlike the last time, I never got out of the job search game, so I still have a number of possible opportunities that I am pursing.

On some level, to even contemplate filing for unemployment and looking into whether or not my family qualifies for food stamps feels a lot like being pessimistic. To consider these things feels like I am giving up. On the other hand, the reality is that I have one more paycheck coming to me and there is still going to be a mortgage payment, utilities, car payment, credit card bills, insurance, and all the other “stuff” that will come due next month. Even if one of the other job possibilities comes through for me, there is a slim chance that it will happen before my severance period ends. While I have tried to put aside a bit of a buffer, it isn’t going to be enough to buy me much wiggle room.

The mantra that all of the job and career coaches are spouting is that you must remain positive and optimistic in your job search; that you need to focus on what the opportunities are and remain open to them; that you should use this time to think about what you really want in a job or career; and that if you want it bad enough you can make it happen for you.

Um, at the risk of sounding negative – sometimes it is a bit hard to paste on the happy shiny face and think of the possibilities when the reality is that you need a job to keep from losing your home, your car, your good credit rating, and thus the potential for the type of job(s) that you are accustomed to working.

Let me take a moment to say that as rough as things might get, I do acknowledge that I am lucky, incredibly lucky and thankful, to have had a severance package that lasted as long as this one has. Most of the other displaced/down-sized/laid-off people I have met have not had severance packages, or if they did, the packages were small.

Do I still believe I am going to find a job? Yes. I am also still convinced that it will be a better position that my last one, but I am worried that I may cross the line between realism and pessimism if it doesn’t happen soon.

Answering the question: “Why did you write a novel?”

I can’t speak for other authors, but this question comes up with (to me) alarming frequency and always gives me a moment of pause. Writing has always been a part of my life whether it is poetry, grocery lists, or correspondence. I have a file cabinet with several folders marked simply “writing” where I have stored pieces of paper, journals, legal pads and diskettes filled with my ideas. To me, the answer is obvious - “why wouldn’t I write a novel?”

My current novel (second one written, first to be published) was actually one of those scraps of paper in a file cabinet. During my pregnancy with my second child I had a series of very strange dreams and captured the impressions and concepts on paper only to toss them in the “writing” file for me to flesh out some day. And there the notes sat until a year later when my sister-in-law and I were having a sort of snark-fest about following one’s dreams versus the reality of needing a steady income and benefits. The particulars are not that interesting, and hardly flattering to either of us, but the end result was her tossing down the gauntlet for me to do something about my writing rather than dream about it. To further toss kerosene on the flames of our snit, she send me information about a writing contest on Gather.com and essentially dared me to (1) write the novel, and (2) enter it.

I am a Taurus on the cusp of Aries with Leo overhead at the moment of my birth. If you know anything about astrology, you can imagine what my response was. The end result was the first draft of “A Love Out of Time.” The story had some technical issues, POV shifts that gave a number of readers whiplash, way too much back-story, and not nearly enough dialogue but for a first novel written in 30 days it finished in the top third of the first round. (At the bottom of the top third to be precise, but still a respectable finish in my humble opinion given the speed under which it was written.)

The hard work began after the first round of the contest was over. It was at this point that “A Love Out of Time” became something more than a “so there” to my sister-in-law. The feedback I received made me realize that I might have something worth working on and so began a year of critical review and edits. I edited my novel because I found a voice within that would not be silenced. The characters became as familiar to me as my family. I wrote because I could not imagine going back to the place where I jotted down my thoughts and filed them away for a “some day” that might never happen.

Since “A Love Out of Time” was born, I have gone back to my file cabinet and taken out a number of my old ideas to see what else is speaking to me. I found a legal thriller that I wrote under a different name that I am knocking the dust off of. Sandwiched between some really awful poetry, I found the outline and first scene of what is going to be the second novel in a series I am tentatively calling “The Time Walkers” with “A Love Out of Time” being the first book in the series.

Now when people ask, “Why did you write a novel?” I say, because it is what I do.