In the world of Ashlee

April 19, 2013 at 14:32 (Blogging, Other Writers, The Damning Moths, Thoughts, Writing)
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Things have been happening, despite my relative silence. Of course, that should be a given. No matter how many blog posts I do or don’t write, or how many days go in between my Facebook or Twitter updates, life goes on and the world keeps spinning. Isn’t it funny how we might measure our personal existence by our presence on social media? If you can’t see me, I’m not entirely real.

Nonetheless, there were a couple of big ups and downs in the interim. No, no, nothing so big as the release of my novel. That’s still yet to come, though I have been dispensing ARCs to some very lovely people, and hearing wonderful things back. We’re looking at another month or two before I can pin down the release date. It’s hard to have delay after delay; I am not patient, but I’m forced to acknowledge this comes in part due to what has transpired through the early months of 2013. So let’s go over some of those things.

I had an author interview over at This Is Horror. If you haven’t seen it already, you can read my Meet The Writer on their website. I’ll note, it’s both fun and weird talking about yourself in the interview format.

Family and friends have gone through a number of personal trials. As a bystander for the most part, you try to support them. Show love. Remind them each of their importance in your life. Broken bones in accidents, severe illness and ongoing aftercare, a death. Little things, big things, unavoidable throughout life. Then the worldwide tragedies which have been occurring, with heart-warming tales of heroism amidst the chaos. One of these days, I’m going to stop reading the news.

I have spent the better part of two months designing and building an updated version of The Damning Moths website. It hasn’t gone live as I am still trying to muscle my way through some of the more finicky coding. I never thought myself as an especially talented web designer, but I think this will all work out rather nicely in the end. It’s just getting to the point where I am confident the site will function as best as possible.

Surviving the End received the Australian Shadows Award for Edited Publication. So far, my favourite part of being in an award winning anthology is the celebratory atmosphere with my co-contributors and the excitement our editor shared. And another hearty congratulations to us all.

I’m writing and plotting and editing all at once, which is hardly unusual, but takes a lot of attention away from other things. For the next week, I am burying my head in these stories for as many hours as anyone will let me. I’m talking very long days. See, I recently attended a course and gained accreditation for a new job. I will be starting in late May. I don’t exactly know how that will change my writing hours and energy levels, but I want to have some of this out of the way before then. What better timing than my week off work? If I manage to push hard enough, I know exactly what I can get accomplished. So here’s to a very productive week.

Lastly, I fill the gaps in between with the occasional important email, and reading. A lot of reading. Judging for the AHWA Short Story and Flash Fiction Competition, as an early reader (both requiring actual thought, assessment, and giving feedback where appropriate), and a whole pile of books being consumed unnaturally quick for pure enjoyment.

I know I’ve said it before, but I might be able to keep up with blogging again someday soon. Or you might hear from me again in a few months time. Either way, my love to you all, you’re not far from my thoughts.

~A

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Writers gonna write

March 19, 2013 at 10:01 (Blogging, Thoughts)
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I’m supposed to have an endless supply of things to talk about. Great ideas to muse over, or funny anecdotes to share. Pieces of my life and observations put into words and given freely to the world. I’m meant to connect with others, to find common ground, and to express my emotions regarding the state of existence.

But all I have are half-written blog posts about things which only serve to inspire me for a moment.

I’ve started–hold up, let me count them–sixteen entries which haven’t been finished recently. There are a couple which are fully written, but I’m not quite interested in posting them yet. It’s not that I’m worried about sharing these insights so much as I’m straddling the line between introvert and extrovert, and it just takes so much more effort to put things out there.

And to be perfectly honest, I almost feel like I have to hoard it all, store it up, to prepare for when I will absolutely need to push myself out into the spotlight when I launch The Damning Moths. That will require all of this enthusiasm and charisma. I can call the energy forth when I need to, but it makes everything else seem that much heavier. A little more strain on my reclusive half.

I’ve seen so many humourous comics or captioned images lately that reflect my state of being exactly: I don’t mind going out, but that means I need to put on pants and actually see people. I like being a writer, where I can sit at home and make things up about fictional people with outrageous abilities and entertaining quirks. I get true enjoyment out of putting together unlikely scenarios then figuring out how they make perfect sense.

Surely, I should have more thoughts to share with this corner of the world, right?

The proclivity to write does not translate to finding something worth saying. I can compose dozens of things, but deciding whether to put them into this specific platform is another thing altogether. I’m not interested in this blog being political, or adding this voice to the cries of social reform; at some stage I realised I don’t want to bring my opinionated side here. I have other places to get into debates (which I do often), and I suppose, I just don’t want to invite argument in yet another location I frequent.

But sometimes, that leaves me with little to say.

~A

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The mysteries of this author’s mind

February 28, 2013 at 11:24 (Thoughts, Writing)
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I had a great question the other day from a guy at work. He knows I’m a writer, with my first novel coming out soon, and wanted to know if I’ve got any new writing in the works at the moment. My answer was, Yes, I’m in the middle of drafting three stories.

He gave me a surprised look and confirmed, Three?

That’s right, three separate books concurrently written. A prequel, a sequel, and something completely different to keep things exciting. To that, he wanted to know how I don’t get them all tangled up and confused with one another. Therein is the interesting quality of being me, and writing the things I do.

My explanation was something to the effect of, I spend most of my time thinking about these characters and their situations. They’re like friends. Just as a normal person probably wouldn’t mistake one friend’s life with another, I can keep track of the people in three different books at the same time.

I didn’t mention that I’m actively reading two novels and a bunch of short stories by other people as well.

From the perspective of someone who doesn’t write, this concept seemed especially amazing. I know a whole lot of authors would also agree. Myself, I just don’t struggle to identify each character, and even if I need a refresher, I have a lot of notes. I’m kind of obsessive with note taking these days. Even though I can follow the lives of half a dozen main characters and twice as many minor characters doesn’t mean my memory is any good. I’m in their worlds so often that there isn’t anything terribly confusing about it, not at the drafting stage.

I might disagree when it comes time to edit.

~A

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Lose a wish, gain another

February 3, 2013 at 11:47 (Thoughts)
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I carry a wish/prayer box with me on a keyring. It’s just a small pewter cube with a magnetic fastener on the lid, with a tiny space inside to put a slip of paper with your wish/prayer written on it. There are pretty little swirlies as decoration, and the words “faith”, “love”, “joy”, and “hope” on each edge of the lid. Up until recently, my box carried a rolled strip of paper with some serious advice from a trusted author friend. Someone who talked me out of being stupid about my fears. Her words meant a huge amount, and they were exactly what I needed to hear, and I decided to copy them into my box to hang off my belt loop and reinforce the positive change I had to commit to.

On the keyring right beside the box is a small spiral cage holding my craggy ball of Apache Tear Obsidian, a grounding and creative stone. They go together well, and as a pair are my “touchstone”. A tangible sign of my intent, something to grab when I need a ready reminder of my will to grow and improve and overcome. In recent times, I had sat down to review my plans for the future, as the New Year tends to inspire. Not much about my goals has changed, but I did realise that the mantras inside my wish/prayer box had come to pass; I didn’t feel the same way about those troubles anymore. The repetition had worked and reinforced my ability to be confident in those areas. With this rather self-satisfied understanding, I grabbed my box to replace the note within-

And it was already gone. One empty box, no sign of my mini-scroll anywhere.

Make no mistake, I flip open the lid on the wish/prayer box near-daily (the magnetic clasp makes such a nice “clack” when it shuts!) and just peek inside. I didn’t need to pry out the note, unroll the paper, and read the message each day as I knew its words and meaning off by heart by that point. So it couldn’t have been gone for longer than a day, two at the very most. Right at the point where I’m concluding it’s time for a new mantra to lead me on?

So I lost one wish. It flitted away to the Nether to make way for something new, and did so at exactly the right time.

~A

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Reasons I am a writer: 2

January 20, 2013 at 09:59 (Thoughts, Writing)
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Words fascinate me. There are so many to choose from, and we’re not even restricted to a single language. English cherry-picks from dozens of countries, and then there are regional dialects, slang, and my personal favourite, archaic words. The lilt of writing is so brilliant, able to be reshaped into something better, something more poignant, something visceral.

I love the act of writing, both by hand and typing. Handwriting has a messiness to it. A wild abandon, where everything is free-form and unrestrained. The flow of ink from my favourite pens onto the perfect weight paper, the soft skritter-skit the ballpoint makes. Then there’s my fingers dancing over a keyboard, which I can almost convince myself is a type of magic, a song contained in characters on the screen. Typing is effortless, a habitual action. Muscle memory takes my fingers where I need them, and stories pour out.

My little community of writers! As with any interest on this planet, I don’t fit in with every group of fellow authors, but over the course of these last few years, I’ve begun collecting like-minded writing friends who come together to genuinely celebrate victories and successes, commiserate over the trials of our passion, and cheer each other on when another is struggling to draft, edit, or find a way to get their writing into the hands of eager readers. I have unending love for my friends. You are the best.

Telling a story is vicarious. So full of emotion. When you write the scenes which move you, when you are overcome by the experiences associated with being an author, the joy of finishing, the terror of releasing, the devious spark of a new idea which carries you away from the everyday world in a glorious instant of inspiration. It’s existing in a whole other layer of life.

~A

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Two months, just like that

November 4, 2012 at 16:22 (Thoughts)
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Wow, hey. Zips by, doesn’t it? I’ve been all too aware of the passing days, though not within the context of, “I haven’t blogged in two months”, and more the general sense of time whirling by, oblivious to the human experience. Time is a fascinating illusion; the measurement of movement and change, especially when one can imagine that nothing is changing at all, and still observe the all too obvious differences between “then” and “now”.

Life has been what it is. The down parts which we spend half our effort trying to avoid still come knocking. Upheaval is part of that change which I note, but also blurs together in the apparent sea of sameness. We still get up each day. Eat, shower, work, sleep. The little things in between. Seeing the same faces, having close approximations of the same conversation within each encounter. Our greetings are universal. Sometimes I answer differently just to see the expression on a person’s face register that they must think about my reply, rather than it being the expected generalisation. Sometimes, I see how glad they are for a variation, themselves. Sometimes, they are busy, and it was a cursory exchange, and they don’t really want to have to think about something new. Ah, but that’s people-watching for you.

And as a counter to the troughs, there are the bright points of laughter and friendship; the good news instead of bad; the moments of brilliant entertainment which enrich our lives. Going away for short trips to places I like with people I love. Seeing animals, walking in the rain, making children giggle. Spending hours talking, seeing the obvious fruits of your labour, and especially, the much-appreciated acknowledgement of others for what you do. Finding things worth reading, worth watching, worth playing. Even the quiet times of being alone where thoughts are free to bubble over faster than you can possibly record them, even though you’re certain they are important and need to be collected for future uses.

Two months. We saved a kitten from a storm, and said goodbye to some family members. I’ve read a whole lot of books, and written nearly a third of another. I have determined that I can probably do a lot more than I believe of myself, but it’s finding the time and effort that’s the real trouble. I like November and the positivity and companionship it brings out in so many of my writer friends (thanks to NaNoWriMo). I’m especially enjoying building some expertise on the “behind the scenes” aspects in releasing books.

Oh, yes. I’m still around. Two months in a long time, but really, it’s just the blink of an eye.

~A

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Reasons I am a writer: 1

August 25, 2012 at 12:54 (Thoughts, Writing)
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I love people-watching; writing stories is the ultimate way to apply the knowledge I have acquired, and watch the characters respond in exciting ways.

I’m more than a little bit sadistic when it comes to fictional entertainment. Putting characters into terrible positions and then making things get worse leaves me cackling. Literally. With perverse glee.

Books were one of my first loves. My memory isn’t so great for detail, which means I get to make myself the stories I want to read, and still feel some excitement and amazement when I reread the work after a while.

I have ideas, whether I want to or not, so it’s really gratifying to be able to put them to use. I feel an overwhelming sense of pride when I look upon something I’ve written. I’ve used my time well. I’ve been stubborn and persistent and it’s culminated with something awesome.

Just some of the reasons I am a writer! What about you?

~A

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Ups and downs

July 13, 2012 at 18:09 (Thoughts, Writing)
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The problem with trying to be positive about the achievements I’ve already made, the goals I have reached, and the work I have successfully completed, is that I am still all too aware of what I haven’t gotten around to doing yet.

I know, only so many hours in the day, busy person with many responsibilities, Life constantly getting in the way with a relatively challenging year behind me. I do know that. It doesn’t help knowing exactly why I am still behind on what I intended by this point. Being able to catalogue my positives doesn’t erase the comparable negatives.

I do try to stay up-beat about things, of course. After all, I’m sitting on a really engaging fantasy series which just requires patient attention to get the first book out there. I keep myself sane by working out numerical estimates. Check the amount of words remaining, divide by page averages, calculate how many weeks it will take me if I cover the bare minimum every day. It gives me the sense of an ending. This isn’t going to be forever. There is a point within reach where things will be finished. And it’s not too far away, even just getting through a single page each day.

I have the trouble of impatience (I know, I’ve talked about that too much already), which means I bury myself amidst a mound of doubt when things hit delays. Today’s lesson is: stop measuring myself at my peak rate. It makes me feel bad when I can’t maintain the pace because uncontrollable things cropped up in the meantime.

I just need to trust in myself, and in the Universe, that the overall plan is going just fine. As long as I show up for the minimum each day, just one little page, there will always be forward progress. Chipping away.

~A

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On the Introvert Swing

July 3, 2012 at 14:41 (Blogging, Thoughts)
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When taking the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator/personality test, I usually come up right in the middle of the introvert/extrovert scale. This wouldn’t mean much to anyone, but I have distinctly noticed a back and forth swing of my personality traits; sometimes I am a perfectly satisfied extrovert, and other times I fall onto the introvert side completely.

Yes, now is an introvert period. A lengthy one, at that.

This still doesn’t mean much, other than finding it especially tiring to put myself out there and communicate. I’m feeling altogether quiet and introspective at the moment. It’s challenging to write blog posts about the things I’m thinking on, largely because I have used this blog as a means of communication and discussion, and I’m not in a very communicative state. I do love you all dearly, I just don’t need to say anything much.

Having known this about myself for a long time, now, I’ve frequently wondered over a “public” sort of career. In this day and age where authors are meant to be accessible and celebrities in their own right, how will I deal with that much attention in my introvert periods? Even when I’m experiencing my extrovert side, I’m already terrible at keeping track of things like time, dates, emails and private messages. Deadlines are more like guidelines. Social expectations are there, but don’t necessarily intersect with me personally.

There’s the option of reducing how “interactive” this is; I could close off comments on the blog, and that would be a kind of solution. I know and admire many wonderful people who blog without enabling comments for their own varied reasons. I understand their necessity for that choice, and find the notion just a little appealing, at least while I’m here on the quiet musing side of life. I wouldn’t be cut off from the world. There’s Facebook, Twitter, and of course, emails. Plus, I am a firm believer that friends can pick up where they left off having experienced such wonderful friendships personally.

So while I consider my options, weigh up the choices, I will likely remain an infrequent voice in the vast virtual world. There’s no harm in enjoying an extended “holiday” as an introvert. To bundle myself up in blankets and klackity away at stories. I haven’t disappeared, I’m just in my own head.

~A

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Who I Want To Be

May 29, 2012 at 20:32 (Thoughts)
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I was going to talk about something light. I began drafting a post about shuffling scenes around, which is something I am most certainly in the midst of right now. It’s kind of liberating to have decided that certain discussions between characters are happening out of order. I’m really loving editing my stories and seeing that I am making them more than what they were. But that post wouldn’t come out, no matter how many ways I tried.

Instead, I’m drawn back to a question I’ve been wondering about for the past week or two. Who do I want to be? Not in the sense of where is my life going, I’ve got that part. But who I want to be, as the author Ashlee Scheuerman. What face am I putting out there, and what do my actions reflect upon me?

The other day when I was busy fretting over everything and nothing, I drew a Rune for a manner of insight. If you don’t know much about Runes, that’s okay, I’m just learning, myself. The Rune which came out of my little blue velvet bag was Mannaz, or Maðr. From my favourite online resource, Sunnyway Runes, we have the following:

Mannaz: (M: Man, mankind.) The Self; the individual or the human race. Your attitude toward others and their attitudes towards you. Friends and enemies, social order. Intelligence, forethought, create, skill, ability. Divine structure, intelligence, awareness. Expect to receive some sort of aid or cooperation now.

My attitude toward others, and their attitude toward me. Yes. Summed up one very key element to my worries: who am I, and how am I perceived? And more importantly, what do I want that to be? By nature, I am honest (sometimes to the point of trouble) and interested in others. I consider myself empathic, caring about people and animals and nature and life.

I want to be dependable, even though I am prone to flightiness. Blog frequently, release stories more than once every 12 months, reply to emails and messages and other people’s happenings. I want to support others, but in a well-balanced way so I don’t end up feeling like it’s a massive drain on my time. I want to be clever and educated and do things right, preferably without lengthy periods of trial and error, but I also need to focus on patience. Lots of patience.

Here I go back to Mannaz. “Intelligence, forethought, create, skill, ability. Divine structure, intelligence, awareness.” Again playing to my concerns. Forethought, and skill, and awareness. All necessary to my intent.

~A

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