I have fallen in love...

... with a scene.

:)

The realization occurred while driving to work today. I drafted a new novel for NaNoWriMo this year. It prompted a conversation with my best friend and her husband about where our stories come from. Usually if I'm blocked, I'm get a pen and paper and handwrite, and that helps the words to emerge. There is something satisfying about handwriting a story. Some people have said that it's because the action is closer to crafting than typing is. Others just like the tactile sensation and find it easier. And last year, I would have agreed (and still do). But this year, the pen blocked my words. Each time I went to write, the words started coming faster and I just couldn't keep up without resorting to typing. When that happened, the words just flowed out of my fingers. And now when I get in the mood to write this story, my fingers start itching... like I need a fix. My best friend agrees that her stories come from her ears because she transcribes what she hears. Her husband says his stories emerge from his arms and down his hands like Wolverine's claws. Upon further serious interrogation, he maintained that statement. So okay.

And because of that flowing through my fingers, I was able to write a scene--one I'd been avoiding for a few days during NaNoWriMo because I reached a point in the extensive chapter and couldn't figure out what my characters would do. The block occurred at "...you girls need to make a hard decision." And then I couldn't decide. After taking some time away from it and expanding earlier chapters, I returned to the block, jotted down a couple extra details, and forced my characters to act. I explored options within the main character's narration, such as "If she does this, I'll do this, and then I'll have to do this afterward, but if she does that, then I'll have to do that instead, and then we'll be in a new mess."

And I thought, "Okay. If I make them run into the house, they'll have to follow through with talking to the police and my main character can't hide from them because they'll want to talk specifically to her to get her testimony, and then they'll recognize her and take her away. And that will kill the story. But if I make her run into the woods, the guy will have to follow her, and then what?"

Well, then they'll run into that pesky troll from earlier.

And then the troll will react because his territory was invaded.

And there will be HUGE conflict.

But it will also pull things together nicely and give that troll more of a character, establishing trust between him and the main character and setting the foundation for future events.

So I said, "Okay," and wrote it. In fact, it's the chapter that helped me win NaNoWriMo because I just couldn't stop typing. I wrote half of that 12,000+-word chapter in one night and stayed up WAY past my bedtime (I had to work opening shift the next morning) just to finish it. And I was quite fond of it when it was finished, and quite proud because of how well it established and solidified the story.

That was about a week ago. It wasn't until today that I realized I was in love. And do you want to know why?

Because even though it contains magic, the scene is real. It's a real-life scenario that just happens to deal with supernatural powers. And I'm not talking high magic. Just grounded stuff. Subtle. It's the kind of scenario that readers may imagine if they were placed in a similar situation and also had powers. The girl does everything that we, as readers, would imagine doing--and still fails. And it's that failure that makes it real. It's all the desperation, gritty details, and inclusion of outside world consequences that make it real. It's also a turning point in two new friendships/alliances, a deepen of characterization for three characters, and a moment that forces the main character to make a much bigger decision than just how she'll get away from a guy who's chasing her, pushing her to meet another conflicting character and, ultimately, her counterpart--which will kickstart everything else. It is a key, pivotal moment for the whole story. It is the beginning of the end of one life and the start of something new.

And I LOVE it. It caused a hiccuping sensation in my chest like my heart literally changed places or skipped a beat. It caused that jolt when you realize that what you feel for someone/something is so much more than what you initially thought. It reaches further into your life and connects to the deepest part of you. I never thought I'd feel that way about a scene. Because really, it's just a sequence of words. And yet there it is.

And I really hope that it will stick around. That no change in the story will cause a huge revision/rewrite and cause me to delete the scene. That the old revision rule of "kill your darlings" won't apply to this one.

And I really hope that when the final draft is out and published, you all will love it, too.

Job Prospects? What Job Prospects?

Within the past two months, I have applied to a handful of assistant editor and associate editor positions at publishing companies. These are the types of positions that scare me, the ones at Penguin Random House and Amazon and Simon & Schuster in New York City--the ones that will inevitably be the best kind for me. I have heard nothing from them. The nearby Half-Priced Books has a full-time bookseller position that I interviewed for earlier this week. The pay starts at $8 an hour, with full benefits, and after six months it increases a certain percentage, which can continue to increase depending on performance. There are also quarterly bonuses and a Christmas bonus, and between 20-50% employee discounts on certain items in the store. Everyone there is a nerd, and I'd love to work around books again and talk to people about stories and movies every day. I am still waiting to hear back from them regarding either an acceptance or a request for a second interview with the store's manager. If I don't hear from them by the end of the week, I have to call.

I finally heard back from a nearby literary agent. I've been trying to get an unpaid internship with a Pittsburgh-based agency for... almost a year. Every season I message her, and every season she comes back saying that there are no slots available, and to try "next semester." There's something to be said about persistence, something that might get me a slot in the end, but I'm starting to feel as if I'm being strung along. And with the recent Black Swan ruling concerning internships, I don't know if I'll be able to get one with the literary agency in the end. It's basically a job that someone could be paid for, and because I'm not in school, they may not allow me to work there. However, it is an area about which I am not completely familiar, and so furthering knowledge might be reason enough to let me in. Regardless, if I get the HPB position, I'll probably be around town for a while yet. And because the store is open all the time, and the position is at least 40 hours a week, I might be able to not work in the store for a day and use it instead to work in the lit agency's office (which requires office work at least once a week and the rest is remote). But of course... there is no saying right now.

And the funny thing is that I can't really complain about all of this on Facebook because my friend Renee beat me to the punch months ago. She got her master's in... folklore or teaching or something like that. She wants to be a teacher, and so applied to a bunch of positions. A staggering amount. After a while, she had to return to work at Giant Eagle because she wasn't finding anything else. Finally, she got a community college position that she's thrilled about. But throughout her half-joking complaints of "No one wants me! Why don't you like me? No one wants to hire me? Etc.," we were all answering with "You're amazing! You'll find something! Surely someone will see how awesome you are." And now that I'm going through the same thing, I keep thinking of her posts and wanting to echo them. I won't, of course, but it's kind of amusing. The good thing is that if I don't get hired at HPB, I still have a year's worth of unemployment benefits as long as I continue to submit applications and resumes. So there's that.

I've started working on a couple new writing projects. Novels will always be in process, and I managed to think of a scene continuation in a story that I haven't thought about in years. And I'm slowly adding to my NaNoWriMo novel. But I've also started a short story that required research into mining canaries, and a nature writing piece about my grandmother and a little bird at my apartment (I think I've officially decided to call the piece "Old Bird" for the double meaning). The problem with the short story is finding plot for actual scenes instead of a monologue. And the problem with the essay is finding a theme with depth and universality, one that isn't "saccharine" or "sentimental," which many nonfiction literary magazines expressly forbid in calls for submissions. So I can't just reminisce about events--they have to mean something and all tie together. My teacher-friend from Chatham who cover Environmental and Nature Writing agreed to help out a little. She's insanely busy but sent information and samples regarding braided essays. I still have to read through them (because of trying to write a review that's due this week and read a book that's due very soon), but will eventually. Still, it's nice to know that teacher-friends will help out even if you're not a student anymore. :)

It's a Writing Life for Me

I entered this summer expecting to sit and write everyday. I have time! Loads of time! All I need to do with write and read and it'll be awesome!

Somehow, that didn't happen. And then unemployment woes kicked in. Those have recently been corrected, or are at least in the last stages of being corrected. I applied to a few out-of-state jobs and marked them on that paper, so UC can't yell at me for not searching. And I have other jobs from LinkedIn that I'm going to apply for. One of the applied-for jobs was a freelance proofreading position, which I didn't get because I missed spelling errors and other problems, apparently. That's a kick in the gut. I half-joked that I would begin reading the Chicago Manual of Style and the dictionary every day, and I might start soon.

Camp NaNoWriMo (the second camp session for the year) was this month. My goal was to revise November's novel project and add 25,000 words. I'm barely over 9,000 with about seven days to go. Great... Luckily, I'm back to writing everyday again (which was the whole goal of joining the camp this month), and I've revised up through chapter four and completed chapters five and six. Six was almost an entirely new chapter, with only a paragraph or so pulled from Later Scenes. But now begins a harder task of keeping track of new material when I'm pulling from that separate document. I can't count the words that were already written, and yet... that's basically what I'm going to do. I'm going to strive for that 25,000 mark. Maybe even go above that. And when I paste in the story for verification, it'll probably be over 50,000 in the system. I just have to keep writing.

The last week of this month is crazy busy. I have a proofreading session of Pittsburgh Quarterly to finish by 1 p.m. Sunday but am also having a Girls' Day Out on Saturday. I'm halfway through writing a recent review and it's due on the 31st. And I wanted to get a head start on next month's second review, but haven't been able to read because of all the writing and proofreading.

But it hasn't all been the grand literary life. I realized that if I want to stay on my career path and become the person I want to be, not only do I have to continue writing and sending out submissions, but I also have to move. Pittsburgh, for all its artistic glory these days, has a woefully small publishing market. I need to move away if I want to get back on track. I suspected that Michael would follow me soon after I moved, depending on my destination. He joked that he might follow if the city was interesting.

I discovered yesterday that, no, he wouldn't follow me. That was a kick in the heart. He's building foundations in Pittsburgh because of the budding markets and likelihood of being funded for projects. He wants to remain here, and I can't. We talked about doing a long-distance relationship for a while, but now that plan is problematic.

His life coach wanted to meet me and we went for a joint session yesterday. It turns out that what I thought was a comfortable, healthy relationship was actually full of uncertainty on Michael's part. He wants to know where we're going, and is convinced that a long-distance relationship will eventually peter out. Meanwhile, he's all for trying it. I can't quite understand that because he's also not willing to get married. Neither am I, for that matter. So it's basically a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation--unless I want to give up my career dreams and find some menial job around Pittsburgh just to remain in the relationship. And that just... is crappy. Especially if we're not in love, and especially if we're not working toward one day getting married. I won't go into any more details about it, because it's incredibly complicated and terrifying.

I suspect that all this uncertainty came from the life coach. He doesn't understand how our ambiguous relationship has worked for three years. Most people don't, actually. That's why he wanted to meet me, to better understand Michael's life and see where we  both are coming from. But I worry that him asking questions and providing the ideas to establish decisions resulted in Michael asking questions. I was wary about visiting the life coach specifically because I didn't want him to drastically change our relationship, and that's what's happening. Michael joked when he came back into the room after I spoke with the life coach alone. He said, "So, are we still dating?" Later in the session, I asked him that same question.

I still can't answer it.

Editorial assistant, and a stalled writing life

When compared to other writing friends (some of whom are currently at the AWP conference), I feel as if I am failing as a writer. They just seem to write more than I do, or do more literary activities than I do. This past week, in particular, has been especially hard because I've wanted to write, but my brain couldn't decide what to work on: first person present tense for my thesis story, third person past tense for my NaNoWriMo novel, or undecided POV and tense for a short story/novellette. The words are there, but they're trapped behind a brick wall and I can't even pry them out through the cracks. I've even slowed down reading books, except for a handful of thin poetry books from Autumn House Press. Even then, I needed a break from them after a few nights. 

But things aren't all dismal. I was recently appointed the editorial assistant for Weave magazine, a print literary magazine that concentrates on dark humor, magical realism, the strange and fantastical, realistic narratives in fiction and poetry, strong and well-developed characters as well as flawed ones, dynamic female characters, retellings of old stories and fairy tales and myths, the playing of language, women authors and characters, LGTBQ authors and characters, diversity, community... and... well... a bunch of really cool stuff. It seemed like an extremely good fit for me. I met the creator at a Bridges conference at Chatham recently and through talking with her and going through the application process, I got the job! It's non-paid but that's okay. On the literary panel at the conference, the panelists said that in order to maintain a job in publishing, you have to volunteer to read the slush piles and help out. Once you get a few of those jobs under your belt, along with some official internships, you'll be more likely to be accepted in a paying position elsewhere. 

I should get around 10 submissions a week. This week was 17 because about seven of them were pieces that had been already accepted. I had to read them in order to get a feel for what the comments on the side were like (in Submittable) and what stories they tend to accept. It will be interesting. I finished all the accepted ones tonight. Here's hoping I can read most of the pending submissions tomorrow to catch up. 

Also, Mike has read most of my thesis. He's taken to reading for an hour or so on Saturday mornings, when he has some quiet time while I get to sleep in. He's almost 3/4 of the way through. He hasn't said anything about it yet, though. But, this is a start. And he says that it might not be a habit, because you can't count something as a habit if it's only done two weeks in a row. Maybe three weeks. It is almost a push for me to continue working on either that story or the NaNo one so he has something else to continue of mine, but that might be hoping for too much. If it took him this long to read something relatively established... getting him to read a WIP is a long-shot, and he has so many other books to get to anyway. It would be nice if Saturday mornings became his official reading times, though.