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2023 – Burn it With Fire
This year has bit. It has sucked. It very nearly was my 13th Reason Why, the origin of my villain story and a litmus test for all the years that had ever sucked before and there were quite a few.
So while I haven’t posted awhile on this blog, let me tell you everything that’s happened to me this year. It’ll be mostly negatives because that’s what this year has made me – a bitter husk of a gal who can suck the joy out of any goodwill. Pollyannas can skip this post, there’s nothing for you here.
THE NO-GOOD VERY-BAD TERRIBLY ROTTEN OF 2023
No FunEmployment – I worked for a very large company on contract when, right before a big project at the end of 2022, I was told my contract would be ending even though I was originally continued for another year. It wasn’t me or my work. ALL the contracts were terminated and the next month they announced 19k layoffs over all. They kept me through early 2023 though because of a big major project I was working on. So I got all the stress of finishing my project and then left. My team was awesome though, they were blindsided too.
Root canal – The day after my contract ended, my tooth started hurting. It was unusual since I usually don’t have tooth pain but it was so severe I had to go into the dentist immediately. They took me in and I got to have a four-hour long emergency root canal to the tune of a couple of thousand dollars (insurance only covered so much).
Bye Bye Jeep – On they way home from my emergency root canal, my normally dependable Jeep started sputtering. Made it home and made an appointment to get it looked at the next day while crying and eating soft foods. The next day, took it in and the transmission was dying. Nothing they could do as it was a 2008 and I had bought it used so time for a new car, with no job.
Hives Mentality – Okay, all of that happened over the course of 2 days so the worst was over right? Nope, after taking my root canal medication like a good girl, I noticed AFTER the final dose that my arms were itchy, then my face was itchy, then my entire body was itchy. Before long I was covered completely in red with hives. Apparently I am now allergic to penicillin. Shit.
Covid Sucks Bocci Balls – Okay things started to turn a corner, after almost three weeks my hives were disappearing. After several failed attempts at leasing (lease prices were up 33% at that time) I got a nice used car with 15k miles on it and I was going to have fun with friends at charity event. The event was awesome, the food and companions were great. Four of us snuck out to the indoor Bocci Ball court and played a round. There were 12 people at our table – only four of us caught Covid – the four of us that played with balls. It was a bad strain. We all tested positive for weeks, were sick as dogs (even though we were all vaxxed) and I could barely move off the couch. I did watch a 7 hour long book review on YouTube during my convalescence though so…win?
The Trip that Almost Wasn’t – I was ready to forgive it all though because after 3 years of being delayed, 50+ members of my family and I were going on a trip! It had been planned for years and nothing was going to stop us. Except…the cruise screwed up the airlines so my teen niece and I would be traveling separate from her family, but what could go wrong? Oh yeah, it’s 2023. Our flight was cancelled, we had to scramble to get a new one OR if we couldn’t we’d miss the entire cruise. We spent 11 hours in the Montreal airport (we were never even supposed to be in Canada), and missed all of Venice where our cruise was supposed to depart from. I made it in time for spaghetti in Venice and thankfully the cruise. No time for a gondola ride. đ
There’s No Place Like Home – The trip was amazing, incredible. I did things like ride a donkey in Greece and eat Turkish Delight in Turkey which I have to say is well worth betraying Narnia for. Then came time for us to leave. We got on our plane – again it was my niece and I. We made it to JFK, first part of the journey done. Whew! Then our flight was cancelled. The bad/good news is that everybody (almost all 50 plus people) had travel issues so we weren’t alone. The bad news is that my brother and the rest of the family were in Paris, where they got stuck, and they got to take pictures in front of the Eiffel Tower while my niece and I were stuck in a moldy hotel in New York next to a Popeye’s and a Burger King. Oh and my niece is a pescatarian.
But we got a flight to O’Hare (after lots of texts back and forth at 2am) and then had to wait in Chicago while the plane was delayed again and let me tell you when I was so happy to be back in Detroit. I think I’m the only person who ever said that.
Dazed and Not Amused – If you ask me what happened through the rest of the year, I couldn’t tell you. I gained weight, went on job interviews that went nowhere and I literally cannot remember anything happy happening. So yes, 2023 sucked.
Wait, I ate a Greek salad in Greece. Okay, 2023 rocked.
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The Covid Diaries
Welp, after three years it finally got me. The dreaded C word.
I was out for a fun night with friends at a charity event. There were several of us at one table for the majority of the evening. After the event, a few of us decided to go to the indoor bocci ball court and play a round.
The only ones who caught Covid were the four of us that played a round of bocci. Balls.
And yes, it’s spelled both ways but I prefer Bocci because it looks more Italian. Anyways it started a flu feeling 2 days later and a text that “T” tested positive for Covid, before you knew it all four of us were down with the sickness.
Here was my day to day progress:
Day 1-3: Sunday started to feel sick, Monday tested negative but couldn’t get out of bed. Tuesday, tested negative but knew I had it when it was four in the afternoon and I found myself in bed but couldn’t remember how I got there because the last thing I remembered I was watching a video about a hated YouTuber whose name I can’t remember while on the couch in the living room. Fever started.
Days 4: Finally tested positive. Made a joke on Facebook: “I’m hot-blooded, I’m feeling sick – got a fever of 100.6 âȘ “. I think I’m funny which is a sure sign that my mental capacity had been impaired in some way.
Day 5-6: I start having weird thoughts about the song Hot-Blooded because of my stupid joke. I’m fixated on the lyric “but before we do, you need to get away from you-know-who.” I spend hours in a fever dream wondering who you-know-who is. Are they this girl’s boyfriend? Are they a good friend who was warning the lass to stay away from this hot-blooded fellow? I’ve never thought about the song before and now one lyric has taken over my life.
Day 7-8: So far I’ve felt sick and exhausted (like the flu) but now a fun new symptom has popped up. I wake up without the ability to taste or smell. In an effort to test this I have sprayed so many various perfumes on me that mall ladies would be envious. Day 8 – still no taste in the morning. Later that day it comes back all at once. Covid is weird.
Day 9-14: Everything becomes a blur. My friends got coughs early on but mine just developed during this time so I now sound like a 75-year old chain-smoking divorcee with bronchitis. Every day I seem to be sticking things up my nose – sometimes it’s even for Covid testing.
Day 15: Test came back negative! I’m still hacking but it’s now down to sexy, raspy voice. I’m sad I’ll lose that. đ
So it’s been a few days after testing negative (checked a few times after that) but I’m still feeling rotten and I’m fine as long as I don’t talk to much which leads to coughing jags which irritates others (both the coughing and the talking). Still exhausted but on the road to recovery at least. By the way I am totally vaxxed, boosted etc. so if that had not been the case, this story would have ended very badly.
But I think the main takeaway from this is, don’t trust small Italian balls.
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Plotter or Pantser?
Do you have your story all planned out or are you a fly-by-the-seat kind of writer?
Authors come in two broad categories – plotters and pantsers. There’s also something called a plantser, which means a little of both but I stick to just the two main categories for now because otherwise you can end up with ploatser and palotters and it just gets exhausting.
Plotters are just that. The have the plot of their story or novel outlined, know exactly where things are going to go (although things can stray here and there, hence all the sub-categories) and are usually meticulously organized.
Pantsers are the opposite. No outline and no idea where the story is going. Just thoughts and the freedom to create whatever they want.
I’ve always envied plotters because my writing style is a squiggly line intercrossed with a multitude of rudimentary crayon colors spewing forth from a volcano of misdirected thought.
And I know that image from Always Sunny is overused but yes, that looks like me when I try and actually plot a story. Hint: It doesn’t work. But look at me making detours like I’m writing a story here. Without further ado, presenting Plotters vs Pantsers – some differences:
Plotter: I have seventeen different sheets of traits for my character and a whole backstory that won’t make its way into my story, but is essential.
Pantser: Hmm..I think I’ll name this character Harvey. And now he has three legs for no reason.Plotter: Oh no – the murder is coming up. I dread killing off my creation. I love him so much.
Pantser: Ha! Behold characters – I AM YOUR GOD. You die, and you die and you get sick but don’t die and you..live but I’m going to make you eat a cat. (This actually happened in a novel I wrote during Nano.)Plotter: In chapter six we will find out the big secret Lady Monica’s been hiding from her husband and in chapter seven, I will write the consequences of that secret.
Pantser: Oh hey, it’s halfway through the story and I just learned that Lady Monica is married! Neat. I guess I should have added that back in Chapter 1, huh?Plotter: Oh dear, I just thought of an interesting plot twist now I have to go back and change my entire outline.
Pantser: Oh dear, I just thought of an interesting plot twist. I’ll just add it in here and then go back and re-write the 37 scenes I already wrote out of sequence and see where I can squeeze it in.Now the truth is, most of us do a little bit of both, but there’s no wrong way to write. After all, if you’re getting words down you’re already doing great. Now if you’ll excuse him, I have to go make someone eat a cat – and after that I’ll probably write a story.
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Hallmark Horrors
I hate Hallmark movies.
Full disclosure: As a horror geek, I am not the target demographic for a cutesy Christmas movie. I have friends that love them and I respect that, because tropes can be enjoyable. I myself am a sucker for the trope of people trapped in a house fighting supernatural beings or strangers brought together under mysterious circumstances via an invitation. So no, I’m not above comfort films. It’s just that mine usually involve creepy weirdness or some light disemboweling.
That being said, I think there is one thing that would make me actually watch a Hallmark movie – MONSTERS.
Hear me out. Apart from the fact that monsters make everything better, I think this would work. Keep the warm, heartfelt tropes that you’ve come to expect from Hallmark movies but just add a splash of terror.
To get the ball rolling, I’ve created a list of proposed titles and plots for my Hallmark Horrors. Call me Hallmark! I can work with you on this:
A Christmas Vampire Prince in New England: She’s a small-town florist who just got dumped by her jerk boyfriend. He’s the handsome count whose three wives just left him for a real estate agent. There’s just one problem – she’s anemic. Can these two lonely souls get together over blood pudding?
Cross-Stitch My Heart: A lonely seamstress meets the perfect guy. Frankenstein’s monster has her heart – but somebody’s else’s arms and legs. However, through a series of montages with quirky music, she finally teaches him what it really means to be alive…alive…ALIVE!!!
Pinning Down the Holidays: She’s the cute, plucky chef who just opened a new Tapas restaurant called Cenobites. He’s the guy who just came into town from a portal to hell. But will his love tear her soul apart?
A Yuletide Eulogy: A precocious little girl puts her Mom’s profile on a Secret Santa website. A lonely stockbroker stumbles across it and soon he and the Mom are exchanging gifts and cute texts back and forth. It all seems to be heading towards a blossoming romance. Unfortunately, Mom died 5 years before.
Preying for a Miracle: She’s a pacifist vegan who came to the jungle to save endangered animals. He’s a trophy hunter with a large collection of human skulls and spines. Their relationship starts out a little rocky, but soon, she can see right through him.
Wild Hearts and Hairy Palms: He’s a big, burly lumberjack in the wilds of Wyoming. She’s an exiled princess from who came to a rural farmland to get away from the the vaguely-threatening-but-not-in-a-really-scary-violent-way revolution in her home of Countrywemadeupistan. But will this spoiled heiress be bitten or smitten?
And why is he a lumberjack? Because he’s a Timber Wolf. Okay I hate myself now.
That’s my list and I can even help with casting. Like for each one you can use that actress you knew what from that sitcom 10 years ago and that vaguely good-looking guy who looks like every other vaguely good-looking guy. Again, call me Hallmark!
They won’t call.
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What I’ve Learned from 100 Submissions
I just made it to the big 1-0-0 everyone! No I’m not that old yet. 100 submissions. Lifetime. And by lifetime, I mean since late 2018 when I first started sending them out in earnest. I know, I know. What can I say? I’m lazy. But somehow I made it to 100.
It all started with one submission several years ago…
Actually it was 2015. Someone I followed on Twitter announced they were looking for stories for an upcoming anthology. I submitted one, my first submission ever. It was accepted and gave me my very first story writing credit. I then proceeded not to submit a single thing until almost four years later because of the aforementioned laziness. But after I actually started to, you know, submit things, I gained a little insight into writing and the submission process.
Here’s what I learned after reaching 100 submissions:
Write for yourself. To be honest, one of the reasons I didn’t submit for three years after my initial acceptance was i didn’t believe in my stories. They didn’t fit a specific genre. They were too silly, or not scary enough, or too weird orâŠyou get the picture.
So eventually I took a look at all the half-finished stories and wrote whatever the hell I felt like. You know what? They started to get accepted. One of my first paid-for pieces was even about a writer writing and you’re NEVER supposed to do that and I got away with it. You have a story in your head, that no one else can tell. It belongs to you. Write it down.
Do as your told. You’re a writer rebel. A loner. No one can tame your words. But if you don’t follow the submission guidelines, you’re going to end up at the top of the rejection list. That means if they ask for your story to be put in Comic Sans in purple font, thatâs what you give them. Theyâll never do that by the way. Please donât do that.
Youâre going to be rejected Rejection sucks! I know. Before I even started submitting I was a lurker and I heard the rejection horror stories. Writers online chatting out they sent out dozens and dozens of submissions and got maybe one acceptance. It’s just the way things are. Some places receive hundreds of submissions and there’s only so many spots to go around. Don’t take it personally.
Cover letters are awful. Iâve looked back at some of the old cover letters I wrote and Iâm surprised I ever got anything published at all. They contained so much ass-kissing it was like a donkey make-out party. So instead of telling markets how wonderful they are, I’ve been keeping my cover letters as boring as possible. Here’s my name, here’s my story, here’s where I’ve been published. And if anybody has any tips for me, let me know. I hate writing these things.
Read it out loud. Think you have that story ready to go? Yeah right. 5 minutes after sending, you’ll look it over and notice you changed a character’s name three times, their hair color twice and suddenly they’re gender fluid. Know what helps? Reading it out loud. You’ll catch a ton of issues, even typos. Just don’t do it in a coffee shop on a busy Saturday afternoon. Don’t ask me how I know this.
Numbers donât matter. Because we all know how much writers love math, right? I found myself trying to look up the average stats on the web the other day and thank god I had 100 submissions because it made the math easy. I had 12 acceptances (12% acceptance rate). Is that good? Bad? Am I just (shudder) average?
The truth is, it doesn’t matter. If you’re sending your stories to super high-tier places like The Dark, Uncanny and Diabolical Plots, you’re going to have a much smaller acceptance rate (if any acceptances at all.) If you have a lot of simultaneous submissions, your rejection rate is going to be higher. And absolutely NO editor will ever care about how many rejections you’ve gotten. Only if they like your story or not.
I guess what I’ve learned after 100 submissions is I like to write. And you there, if you’re submitting, keep at it. Submitted means you committed. And damn it, taking that leap is the hardest part of all.