Category: Writing

The home stretch

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in The Damning Moths, Writing

I hesitate in posting this, simply because I have proven myself inept at gauging the time it takes me to finish any writing project! Even short stories, ones which I think will be completed in just a quick flash. No, they take months extra for no good reason. But, nevertheless, despite a novel being even more unpredictable, I think I’m on the final leg of this novel’s journey – before things really get underway for The Damning Moths.

There’s a certain sense of complication in thinking I’m nearly at the end. Of course, the inevitable desire to rush through, which is absolutely not allowed! After all this, rushing the end would be unforgivable! So I must consciously maintain the same critical mind I’ve had through the rest of these final edits. At the same time, my fast read-through of these last chapters feel like they’re pretty solid. I made a lot of notes about certain plot threads which need to be tidied, but other than that? Well, the ending is just a lot more certain of itself than the beginning was in a lot of ways. We’ll blame it on all the action; it changes the pace, the story evolves into something else. And honestly, by the time I was writing the end, I had all the practice of writing the beginning, going at it for weeks solid. That helps. Truly.

So I will do what is necessary, and finish this novel, and then it will be read for the last time by my copyeditor to make sure I fixed the problems. We’re coming to the hard part. The “everything after”. I feel familiar enough with writing that the writing itself is just this fun thing I do. I sit and have conversations with fictional people. I record what they think and do in challenging situations. I get to read my work and enjoy where it takes me and feel vicious glee and longing and sadness and laughter in all the right places. What comes next, though, that’s all new to me. Publishing is still the big scary beyond.

All the more reason for me to get through it, do what I must, then return to the comforts of writing book two.

While I know most of my blogging buddies will have already seen this, because I am absurdly late to share things, I must reiterate the many people before me who’ve said watch Neil Gaiman give a speech to university graduates. Because Neil Gaiman is amazing. So please, if you haven’t already, watch:

~A

Are We There Yet?

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in The Damning Moths, Writing

I feel like the stereotypical child in the backseat of the car, whining incessantly at the people in control. Of course, when I actually was much younger and we drove around a lot, I didn’t have the same sense of impatience displayed by others. Driving places is neat, and I was capable of entertaining myself. For instance, counting as high as I could. With a tenacious child enthused about a challenge, that will pass the time on a long trip.

But now I’m older, and my proverbial car ride is the endless sense of completing a novel. I’m impatient. I look at the days flying by, I wonder how I can still possibly be working on the same project. The Damning Moths approaches a full year since beginning, June 22nd. Minor interruptions are both embraced and repelled. Something new! Something distracting! Oh, heavens, something to lengthen the time it’s already taken me to get this far.

I’m inspired by those who have been releasing books for a number of years and have the practice down to an art. They write fast, edit fast, move on, release another, start again. I know it’s an experience thing; I’ll get to that point some day. I’m looking forward to it like no one’s business. But I can’t help those feelings of wanting to already be at that stage, to be so sure-footed in my work.

I don’t really second-guess myself too much. There are some instances where I’m a victim of my own negativity, of course, but I still persevere. It’s just the length of time. Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Why aren’t we there yet?

On one hand, it seems like the last few chapters shouldn’t take me much longer. I’m nearly at the end. I can almost reach out and brush my fingertips against the finish line. But then there’s the flipside, where it’s taken me this long to reach the point I have. I wonder if life will continue to be so busy that I only get stolen moments to focus on my story.

Of course, it won’t end there! The cover is coming along nicely, the ISBNs are organised, and I have a ready stack of resources at hand for all the other little in-between bits which come with releasing a novel. So, yes, I’m eager to be done, but it will just take on a whole new form once the book is out in the world. I guess, in that regard, we’re never really “there yet”, it’s all just another phase of being an author.

~A

Redefining: Expectation

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in Writing

I can want everything to be “just so” all I like, but expecting it to happen that way is something else entirely. When I expect something to work a certain way, I’m just setting myself up for irritation and disappointment because I lose sight of the fact that I cannot have ultimate control over everything!

There is a difference between planning and expectations. When goalsetting, you’re meant to have identified a reachable achievement and be aiming for that outcome. Expectations are sometimes just irrational demands on yourself. And the longer I let myself think in terms of expectation, the harder it is when things just don’t go the way I wanted.

Perhaps this is just a distinction I have come up with. Maybe other people don’t see any variation between “planning for” and “expecting to”. However, I certainly do, and it’s something I should be more aware of when thinking about my future. Much in the way of deadlines, a lot of expectation is hinged upon timeframes.

So the new idea is to plan for outcomes, but stop imposing expectations on them. Plan to, yes, finish stories when I can, but don’t expect them done in a certain time, or even a certain way. Stop expecting them to come out as a specific thing. Keep working and see what comes of it. Learn, evolve, improve, and always move forward. Plan for a polished, complete work at an indeterminate “end” point, but don’t expect things to come out the exact way I want the first, or second, or even third time.

Most importantly, plan for leniency. Stop expecting a sense of failure when something goes awry. I can’t snap my fingers and force the world to come into line. Plan for Zen. Stop expecting control. Continue, persist, move forward. It’s a relaxing way of thinking!

~A

Surviving the End is here!

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in Other Writers, Writing

My first ever fiction publication, the neat little story of “Harvest”. It’s a little surreal to be holding the book, reading the other pieces (which are AWESOME, by the way!) with mine wedged in between. The editor and Story Keeper has pulled everything together tightly with the interludes keeping momentum going from one tale to the next, even when they are as vastly different as the people telling them.

One of the best parts of being in this anthology has most certainly been the other contributors. Meeting these writers has been great fun, they’re awesome to interact with, and it’s always brilliant to be introduced to other great stories.

Those of you who have pre-ordered Surviving the End should see your copy very soon! If you didn’t pre-order and are interested in these stories of post apocalyptica, I direct you to the publishers website: Dark Prints Press – Surviving the End.

And of course, thank you all for your support and encouragement. Means the world to me!

~A

Redefining: Time

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in Writing

I’m, ah, not precisely a patient person. When weeks worth of effort, nearly two straight months, still hasn’t gotten me where I want to be, it usually takes a lot for me to persist. I might be stubborn, but I’m impatient, and that can make for a bad combination. Often, if something hasn’t come to pass in due time, I will find something more interesting to focus on.

The good news is, I haven’t lost interest in my writing projects, even if they’re taking way too long! Quite the opposite, I’m almost rabidly obsessed, even now. I don’t feel the need to rush off and do something else yet, I just keep heading back and chipping away. Will I meet my deadlines? Nope. Is the end in sight? Only if you can look far enough ahead! I’m just feeling really enthusiastic to have it done, completed, ready to release to the world, and I’m just not getting there in the timeframe I wanted. It’s not coming from a place of anxiety, thankfully, just a real lot of eagerness. I’m ready for the next part, the next book, the next idea.

I know I need to be easy on myself; there have been a lot of extra hours worked at my day job, and that “life” thing has been a pesky distraction more than a couple of times. I’ve managed to do a little bit every day, so there is a build-up of progress. Slowly but surely. I would like to be able to set out the new deadline and know I will meet it solidly, but I really can’t be certain. Even if I average out the previous work, I won’t get a good estimation, because nothing goes along so simply as that!

Instead, I have chosen to redefine my illusion of time. It’s kind of an effort in willfully ignoring the problem of doing anything does take time, since if I stop paying attention to how long it’s taking me, I no longer need to worry about it. I know, this is the opposite way most people feel they should work, but I am entirely aware of how much I do every day (both in writing, and the rest of life), so all it comes back to it “time” being the problem. Henceforth, time’s relative existence is not my concern. It’s all going to happen. Eventually.

~A

Truly happy

Posted on by Ashlee Scheuerman in Other Writers, Writing

As I begin taking steps toward having a novel released, I start wondering about, you know, comparing myself. As I mentioned in a previous post, A little healthy comparison, an author cannot compare certain things. Sales, fans, popularity, success. Not only are these elements largely outside of a persons direct control, they are also subjective.

Sales depend on exposure and marketability (cover art, blurb, author presence), as well as content. Fans are a trickier thing again, but a small and rabid fanbase can do more for an author than a larger, lukewarm group. Popularity comes and goes, for the book, for the author, for the genre. And success, that’s all in the eye of the beholder. Success is determined by what you want, and reaching milestones and goals.

Will I be able to keep that mindset once my book is out there, competing with the rest? Will I stay Zen? I like to think I know myself pretty well. I am honestly, truly happy to support other writers and see them succeed. In terms of what others have achieved before me already; the stack of finished manuscripts, the publishing acceptance, their dream agent, or a roaring independent career, I can say that I only rejoice for them! I can assess what they’re doing, and make decisions about my own path in relation, but I don’t feel grumbly that I’m not there yet.

But it changes when you’re down in the dirt with them. It would be naïve to pretend otherwise. Looking from the outside in might have a twinge of longing beside it, but once you’re actually exposed and, really, once you’re vulnerable, something shifts.

Again, I’m pretty self-aware, as far as I can tell. I don’t believe there will ever come a time where my friendships and admiration for other people and their own writing success will become tainted with jealousy or resentment. I don’t work that way. Sure, I get down on myself when I think I’m not doing so well, but that has little to do with what others are getting out of their efforts. My little stabs of depression are almost universally because I haven’t reached a goal I set out for – even if that goal was a barely half-thought mad idea in the first place.

In the end, it’s not that someone else did – it’s that I thought I could, and I didn’t. Especially if I know I didn’t try hard enough. So here’s to ongoing happiness, even when the competition starts!

~A