Happy Holidays

Tiny kitten can’t wait, either!

Last night, I got to dance early and got to spend some time chatting with one of the full troupe members. She asked how my week was, and I said, “SLOW!” She laughed and said she knows what I mean—the week before the Christmas/New Year break seems eternal because we’re all just WAITING for the holidays, the time off, the presents, Santa Claus, whatever. We’re cramming in the last few hours of work before family arrive, or we’re running around like maniacs trying to fit every last bit of preparation in before the stores all turn into pumpkins on Christmas Eve.

…I may be mixing my metaphors here.

Anyway, we have to pass the time, whether it goes too quickly or too slowly, and I thought I’d help you all out with that. Since it’s Friday (and since it’s almost vacation time!), I thought I’d share a few things that have had me giggling madly or saying “AWWWW!” lately. Enjoy…

Moon Moon! (For best effect, click the link and see the whole thing.)

I, too, must dance. At least at dance practice twice a week.

Aaaah! A goat!

Nope. I have no idea why. But I have a friend who owns goats, so this photo let me goat-bomb her Facebook wall.

The Oatmeal: How Different Age Groups Celebrate Christmas

Yep, sounds about right. Except I love Christmas.

The fairies have decorated for Christmas.

Please excuse the crappy Android photo. I’ma bust out the good camera later.

The cats discovered television.

Another crappy Android photo. I may have gotten into a lazy-photo rut.

And finally…

Romantic penguins!

Have a terrific weekend, everyone!

Don’t Discount Yourself

Dear self,

I’ve noticed a habit you have, and I want to talk to you about it. It’s not a good habit, or I’d be congratulating you for being awesome. It’s a bad habit, but not one I want to slap your wrist for, because, knowing you, you would just apologize.

And you already apologize too much. (Don’t apologize.)

This habit is similar, because it makes me so sad for you—and it’s such a hard habit to correct, because it comes from a place of genuine modesty and even kindness. It’s a habit many women share, a habit we’ve all developed because we don’t want to overstep ourselves or seem bitchy or whatever it is we’re all trying to avoid.

Have you figured out what it is yet?

It involves a few words and phrases that seem innocent enough. Only. Not really. Just. Well. Words we use to prevaricate, words we writers systematically eliminate from our books because it means we’re not sure what we want to say. But. Sort of. Kind of. Enough. Yet.

Still confused?

It’s the habit of discounting yourself, of evading compliments, of not taking ownership of your accomplishments, however small you may think they are. You think you’re being modest—and most of the time you really do feel that your accomplishment is not worthy of praise. But you’re selling yourself short. You’re telling whoever wants to compliment you (and the rest of the world with them) that you do not deserve praise, that you have not created or accomplished something worth noting. You are saying to the world, “No, I am NOT worthy of your praise or even your notice.”

I’ll stop now, because you’re giving me that look that says, “Well, I’m just being honest, and I’m really not that—”

Well (I can say well, too!), JUST STOP IT. Just stop and listen to yourself.

“I’ve only been dancing for about a year.”

“I’m not published yet.”

“Well, it’s not really that hard to make.”

“I haven’t done enough reading to make me an expert, but…”

“It’s sort of goofy-looking.”

“It’s just the pattern; I only knit it.”

You see what I’m getting at here, or shall I go on?

You’re not the only one to do this. Many of your friends do the same thing. It’s something we’re trained to do, I think, though I’m not sure when the indoctrination starts. As kids, we’re taught to say “please” and “thank you” and all the rest. But when are we taught to deny compliments all together? Was “thank you” not sufficient for expressing gratitude, and we decided we debase ourselves in acknowledgement of praise?

Trouble is, when you bow out of a compliment, you’re essentially saying that the giver has no taste. Think about it:

Person A: “Wow, you made that?! It’s gorgeous!”

You: “Well, you can see that some of the wires are loose, and I was really just following a pattern.” (Subtext: “You’re clearly blind, and anyway, this is something so commonplace, a monkey could make it.”)

Person A: “Whatever, think it’s nice.” (Subtext: “And here I thought it was pretty. See if I try to compliment you again!” Or, worse, “And here I thought it was pretty. I must have horrible taste! Now I question my entire belief system…”)

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, but no one wins in this situation.

I can see you feel bad now, so let me give you a little advice. You won’t want to hear this, I know, but try to listen and accept what I’m saying without trying to dismiss it or wave it away with the rest of the nice things I tell you. So listen up:

You are talented. You are skilled. You are worthy of praise and deserving of notice. You work hard and earn the things that come to you. You are amazing, and you can say, “THANK YOU!”

Now you’re rolling your eyes and telling me that’s not advice. So here’s your mission:

Accept praise. Express gratitude for compliments. Stop trying to deny your own worthiness, skill, and creativity. Take responsibility for the good that you do, as well as the bad. The next time someone says something nice about you, smile, and say your thanks. You can do it—you’re a talented and gracious woman.

So, there, self. I hope you listen to me and take my advice. This is one of those instances where you’ll want apologize for something that’s not that bad and pretend none of this ever happened, but I know it’ll light a little fire somewhere inside you. Maybe the next time someone compliments you, you’ll think of this moment and offer thanks.

Maybe you’re saying thank you right now. Telling me I’m wise and you should listen to me more often.

And you know what I say to that? THANK YOU.

Sincerely,

Your self

Linky Things

I haven’t been around these parts much lately, have I?

It’s not because I don’t love you. I do. Mostly, I’ve just been lots of OTHER places, plus, you know, being sick, which is time-consuming and anti-productive.

But, if you miss me, you can check me out in these spots!

Spellbound Scribes
In which I write about spin-offs!
I also talked about Samhain recently.
I also wrote about how my husband and I read books together. (Aww.)

Solitary Druid Fellowship
I write about druid-things pretty regularly at the Solitary Druid Fellowship, so if you feel curious, you should check that out as well!

Searching for Superwomen
While I’ve been neglectful of blog posts over there, too, you can see my face almost every week on their YouTube channel, talking Supernatural or running our wild-n-crazy Magetech RPG.

 

No NaNo

So, I’m not doing NaNoWriMo this year.

I know. I’m shocked, too.

This is a departure for me. Usually, I have a book I want to finish in November. some ongoing project I need the nuclear power of a thousand other writers behind to wrap up.

Last year, I told myself I’d power through the second book of the Mitzy Morgan series, but, since I was querying the first book, I decided I just couldn’t do it. Instead, I wrote a new book, one I still feel is something good or great, something that remains in the hopeful queue.

Right now, I have a loose outline, character notes, and agent-approval on a new book. In fact, I’ve had these things. So why no NaNo?

1. I can’t take the pressure. Submitting books is hard, y’all. It’s a lot of waiting and wondering. The thought of adding a deadline for a new book is intimidating and makes me want to pee myself a little. And no one likes pee.

2. I’m a wee bit competitive. If I start a book at the same time as my friends do, I’ll end up feeling inadequate and ashamed when I’m slower than they are.

YOU TAKE THAT HIGH FIVE… in the face.

3. I think this book could be really good, and I want to take my time. I’m a believer in outlines. Mitzy #2 was tough for a lot of reasons, but one of those reasons was a loosey-goosey outline. I’m not gonna do that again. I have faith in this one, and I’m gonna outline the crap out of it. Oasis just flew off the page, and that was in part because of my preparation. No more pantsing for Kristins.

OMG SLOW DOWN! My writing buddies are, like, super-fast.

4. I’m lazy. Right now I’m working on clergy-training classwork, SDF materials, and pre-novel prep. There’s only so much I can (or will) do. These things take time, as my mentor tells me, and, because I’m lazy, I’m pretty willing to give myself that time. Time = good. Pressure = bad. At least right now.

Yep. I love my couch. *snuggles couch*

5. Because I could’ve been a cheerleader. I totally tried to be a cheerleader in eighth grade. You didn’t have to try out or anything, but it seems I missed the deadline. Still, I’m a peppy type, and I think I can help my friends who are writing (or, you know, playing football). I can shake my booty and wave pompoms. And that’s what I’m going to do.

No, really… I’m happy you’re writing more words than me.

Are you participating in NaNoWriMo 2013? Why or why not? How are you doing with that decision?

 

Friends and Heroes

I have been gently mocked—and more harshly mocked by some—for my abiding love of George R. R. Martin and his A Song of Ice and Fire series. But for better or worse, our heroes are our heroes, and we cannot shake their influence or absolve our love for them.

I picked up A Game of Thrones in (approximately) 1999. I’m guessing, here, because I really don’t recall. I was with my parents at a Barnes and Noble in Waco, Texas, visiting my older brother at Baylor University. I think it must have been 1999 because it was an early visit to Waco and because A Storm of Swords came out in 2000 and my copy is a first edition. (And now signed!)

Actually, I picked up A Clash of Kings first, because of its attractive cover. The golden cover, the woman in red, the description of the book itself pulled me in. I mean, look at it. It’s pretty.

But because I’m an OCD soul, I had to go for the first book first. I picked up A Game of Thrones, despite its less attractive cover (I own the infamous Harlequin Jon Snow version, which is, these days, hard to find: see image above), and took it home with me.

I’m not going to lie to you, readers. It was boring. I fell asleep on our couch reading it. But after a few false starts, I was intrigued. And when (SPOILER ALERT – have you been living under a rock??) Ned Stark died, I was hooked. HOOKED. Here was a writer who could create a nuanced, sympathetic, enjoyable character, and kill him off without compunction. Here was a writer I needed to know.

So I read the gorgeous A Clash of Kings, and received my copy of A Storm of Swords for Christmas the next year. I read it, enjoyed it, was shocked by it, then patiently settled in to read the next installment. How little I knew.

Fast forward eight years to a small apartment in Hayward, California. I decided the story bouncing around in my head during my commute from Hayward to Berkeley for my reporting job deserved some more attention. I said to my (now) husband that I wanted to focus on fiction, and I did just that. I began my first (trunk) novel, a huge epic about a pair of thieves who get embroiled in a political conspiracy to return magic and science to their stagnated nation. I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning rereading Martin’s books, learning about point of view and narration from his chapters.

Fast forward another three years to 2011. I met the wonderful Emmie Mears through WordPress and a shared experience of familial tragedy. We discovered a mutual love of Buffy and all things fantastic, and suddenly we were fast friends who had never met in person.

Now, in 2013, I had the great privilege of flying out to Maryland and meeting Emmie in real life.

e and k

Bosom friends meet at last.

Aww.

In case you haven’t noticed ’round these parts, Emmie has been a huge part of my life in the last two years. We’ve commiserated, celebrated, even long-distance watched movies together. Though it started as an Anne of Green Gables joke, she IS a bosom friend, and one I’m so very grateful to have in my life. My sanity would have suffered much more in the last 18-months without her supportive, bosom-friendy presence.

So what does my abiding love for Emmie have to do with my abiding love for GRRM?

Well, come Capclave and our time together, we encountered guest of honor, George R. R. Martin himself. Emmie sat beside me in the front row while he did his first reading and I blushed every time he looked toward us.

Then, at nearly one a.m. after a Scotch-tasting party, when I gushingly said I wanted to tell him that I used to stay up late rereading A Game of Thrones to learn about perspective and how much that helped me, Emmie said four simple words:

“You should tell him.”

So I did. I fanned out so hard. I told him how he was a huge influence on me, how his writing gave me the courage and the inspiration to try writing a ridiculously huge novel with multiple point of view characters. And then, because there was an awkward pause, I said it must have helped, since I now have an agent.

And because he’s awesome and kind enough to hang out with his fans, George R. R. Martin asked about my agent. And our writing. And our process. And told us about his own childhood.

We got to take a photo with him, too.

Photo does not include mental squeeing.

Photo does not include mental squeeing. Also, yes, I am this short.

Lifetime achievement: unlocked.

Since this photo, people have teased me. Said I should have it framed and hung in my bedroom. Above my desk. Treasure it forever.

And you know what? I’m totally going to do it. These two writers have influenced me more than I can say. I would be honored to hang them above my workspace.

Friends and heroes. What’s the difference?