The Ups and Sucks of Being an Indie Writer - Part One.

What you may not know about me....

On the eve of my 33^rd birthday (Yes, I was young once) I received my 100^th rejection letter. It wasn’t quite the birthday present I wanted, and while I was discouraged, I didn’t give up. After all, I had read the Stephen King received 120 rejections on Carrie. Heck, I was doing good. That was a 100 on 3 books. I still had a ways to go.

            This was back in the day when writers diligently waited for the new edition of Writers’ Digest so we could mark off where we’d submit. And they were paper submissions, too. When determined writers like myself would spend a hundred dollars a month on postage, paper, ink and supplies. Wading through ‘no’ after ‘no’ in hopes of that one ‘yes’.

            The internet was still an infant, email submissions were unheard of, and e-books? Really? Never would happen, never would people read off a screen instead of paper. That was the mindset.

            It was the days when self publishing costs thousands of dollars. The stigma of being self published was a different ballgame. It was a negative thing and not only did you pay to see your book in print, very few, if any would read it.

            So we trudged on with the goal being to land that big deal with a huge house and get that awesome advance.

            But where does it end? At what point would I consider myself pathetic? I made a decision that when I received enough rejection letters where I could place a letter on each step of the Empire State Building, I would quit. After all, that was well over 1,000 rejections. I had to get that big Random House break before that, right?

            Keep in mind, I wasn’t just submitting one novel, I started writing a lot, I had many books. Plus poems, shorts stories, screenplays. I submitted like an addict.

            The day I opened my 404^th rejection, I got my first ‘yes’. I was thrilled. I danced a jig, arms in the air, screaming, “I’m published, I’m published.’

            It was a small house, no advance but a chance. I always said, if someone gave me a chance I’d run with it.

            I was married, raising four kids, working as a security monitor while my husband was a waiter. This was the break. He was so happy, he sold a guitar to throw me a party. God, I feel guilty over that. How foolishly misled we were.

            I got a book out of it, but it wasn’t edited and printed in a shoddy homemade paperback that fell apart half way through the book. My first royalty check was 1.39

            I trudged on. Believing in my work. I’ll get that break. Someone will want to read me. But, I kept getting rejected.

            I was quickly reaching the top of the Empire State Building.

            The day I received rejection number 1,172 … I stopped counting. I still submitted, I still got rejected, but I stopped counting. Seriously, no kidding, no lie, 1,172 rejections. How pathetic.

            I still believed. Then a ray of hope … I sent an unsolicited query (Totally frowned upon) to Penguin about my book, Sister Perpetua is an Alien. They wrote back asking for the first chapter. Then they wanted the first three chapters. Then 50% of the book. After weeks, months, they wanted to read the entire thing, Good God, this was it! And then …. They rejected it.

            At that point, I quit. I didn’t stop writing. No way, no how, it’s my passion, but I stopped trying to get published.

            Over a thousand rejections. In my mind I was no less than a stupid starry eyed dreamer whose work would never get read. I didn’t have it.

            From that moment on I resolved myself to the fact that the stories in my head would go only as far as a Kinko’s bound manuscript and the reading eyes of a few faithful friends.

            I was done. For years, too. I quit.

            And then … things changed. The world of publishing changed.

            Kindle emerged. No longer was it called self publishing, but Indie publishing. Sweet! A new title. A great concept. A new chance. Another avenue in which to place dreams.

            Ironically it was a new angle on an old pipe dream. Hence, starting a rerun of the vicious cycle. A repeat of the same ups and downs … but only this time, in a different way.

Tomorrow … Part 2.

Arrival of the Fittest

My nightly routine is the same without fail, seven days a week (Except today, I’m beat). I write or edit until 6 am, watch TV or read and lights out at 630am. Baby Frank usually gets me up a few hours later,  He and I share my third floor. I’m good with that. Last night, I should have known. I crawled into bed at 615am.  BF is in my bed. “Hey Nena,” he says.

            “Hey, baby, scoot over so Nana can get in bed, okay?”

            “Kay.”

            I get in … UG! The entire bed is wet. What the heck, he never wets the bed. Here, he brought his drink into my bed, fell asleep and it spilled. No problem, I change the sheets, change his jammies, put on cartoons, we cuddle, it’s 7am, he passes out. Ah …. Sleep.

            “Jack,” My daughter in law calls my name, she’s never in my room so this startles me. “Roni is in pain. She’s crying and needs to go to the hospital.”

            I look at the time it isn’t even 830.  I get out of bed, stumble down two flights, Roni is crying. I’m thinking she still has over 3 weeks, Has to be a false alarm, but let’s check it out.

            I get dressed and get Roni in the car. She’s really crying in pain. Her hospital is 17 miles away. I’m preparing for a long day. We take off. I’m half awake.

            “So, do you think we have time to stop at Starbucks,” I asked.

            Her reply … a huge screa of pain as she grips on to the dashboard and the ‘oh shit’ bar.

            Hnmmm. Before I rule out Starbucks, I suggested we time the contractions.  Honestly, I am thinking we have time.

            She gets one, I time it. It goes on and on and on and no sooner does it end, another begins. Starbucks is out.

            About 5 miles into our hospital trip she cries out. “Oh God, Mommy, I have to push.”

            “What! No. Wait. Hold it in.” I instructed.  At that point I decided the nearest hospital was my best option. So I headed there.

            She reiterates the pressure and me, I’m calling my mom to see what I should do. My mother in all her wisdom instructs me to drive faster. Gees thanks. I’m thinking about the water in the trunk, the sanitizer, paper towels, can opener, I’m good, I can deliver this thing. My mind is reeling on where to pull over and how to get my daughter to scoot to the edge of the seat so as not to get my car messed up.

            Thankfully, we arrive at the nearest hospital, Roni is crying and screaming, they bring a wheel chair to her, it’s rush, rush rush to the birthing room. It’s all happening so fast, the only ones aside from nurses in the delivery room, are me, Roni and my second ex husband.

            Surprising me, she’s fully dilated and ready to go. They break her water.

            Second husband is freaking out, “She’s in pain. She’s in pain.  Can’t you do something?”

            She’s having a baby for crying out loud.

            Too close for pain meds, Roni is really losing it, crying to me, “Mommy, it hurts, it hurts. They want me to go without it. What am I gonna do.”

            Keep in mind, my head is still spinning and without thinking I told her, “Nothing. You’re gonna have to suck it up.”

            Silence. The nurses, the doctor, the IV lady and second ex husband all look at me.

            “It’s true,” I said. “This baby is gonna come medication or not. Be Pocahontas, She was the queen of natural birth, they said she’d go into the field. Pop a squat, drop the kid, stick it to her breast, leave the aftermath for the animals and go back to work.”

            They all looked at Veronica, I supposed waiting for her to freak out and she didn’t. She pouted and said. “You’re not being very compassionate right now.”

            I gave an apologetic look, But really I’m on less than an hour and a half sleep, no coffee, no Starbucks, Roni didn’t tell me she was pregnant until she was 20 weeks and now she’s birthing early? I wasn’t ready.

            But she was.

            With a loud scream and groan that she had to push, second ex husband, panics, hands waving in the air, runs out screaming and ten minutes later I have a granddaughter.

            I guess my Pocahontas story really motivated her.

When the Sun Burps - Homebound Part One

It’s late February, the snow is still on the ground but the sun is shining and it is about a balmy forty degrees. You don’t feel like going to work, so you play hooky and look forward to watching Days of Our Lives.

After lunch you take a trip to Starbucks, treat yourself to a latte, make an afternoon snack and snuggle on the couch. Stephano Demera has risen from the dead … again and just when Bo and Hope are going to reunite for the umpteenth time …. Everything powers down. Lights out.

Without warning, a large X10 solar flare has unleashed a powerful CME that smashed into earth and caused a geomagnetic event.

You hear a loud whistle sound, an engine whistling. An airplane? It grows louder, faster, louder. You run to the front door just in enough time to see a large passenger plane dropping from the sky. It lands in the distance but close enough for the ground beneath your feet to rumble and the explosion causes your ears to ring.

Further away you hear another and another. You literally see four planes fall from the sky. No power, no lights. You need answers. People are confused. They are in the street, some are screaming that they have to get their kids at school … it is immediate mass hysteria.

An X10 solar flare not only causes massive radiation doses to those in the air, it can cause CME’s which in turn could trigger EMP’s that knock out power grids, not for hours but for weeks, if not forever.

What do you do?

But at the moment the lights go out, planes fall from the sky, you haven’t a clue what’s going on.

Your house is dark, you have no power. Who the heck has a battery operated radio anymore?

First thing first. Give it five minutes. Allow news stations and others to transfer to generator power.

Check your cell phone first, call the electric company. They may have a prerecorded message informing you if it is an all out outage or local. If that fails, do you have a laptop? Internet? Does it work? Let’s say it doesn’t. What now?

Without power, without a radio, phone, internet, how can you find out what is happening?

Anyone? Anyone?

Yes, the car. Theoretically, anything that is not running during an EMP will run. Do not start your car, merely switch it to use the battery and access the radio. Look for stations that may have news. If there is nothing there, do not give up hope. Try again in a few moments.

Remember, the worst thing you can do is leave the safety of your home or neighborhood. Stay put, get informed, assess the situation, then devise a plan. Listen to the advice of authorities.

Now let’s say, after a half an hour, you finally hear a news report. You are told about the CME and that it has affected most of the country.

Massive blackout. No power. No power no gas stations. You have a half of a tank of gas, not enough to make it to Aunt May’s in Nevada where they have power.

The city is being shut down. You are now stuck in your home until order and power are restored.

What do you do to survive?

Over the next several days I will be walking you through the process of being homebound, in cold weather and surviving until the event is over or you can move safely to another shelter.

Tune in tomorrow …. As we move onto part two.

Week One - Survival Shopping

As we engulf on the ‘end of the world’ preparation journey, it is so important to remember that while I am trying to keep you on a shoe string apocalypse budget, there will be a few things you may need to buy on the side. Most are very inexpensive and I’ll try to incorporate them into our weekly budget.

Did you find you space? Your area to store you supplies? If not, that is a must. The worst thing you can do is store them away from your home. What if you get stuck? What if you can’t leave? You need to prepare your home.

The easiest way to save money is if you are a milk or soda drinker. Those half gallon/gallon jugs that you recycle? No more. I want you to wash them out and ONCE a week, fill one with tap water. This will save you money.  Just one gallon a week.

And now for the weekly shop and prep list. Ready?

Preparations:

This is fairly simple. Go through your closets and drawers and find 8 articles of clothing you no longer wear that are warm. Or at least as many as you can. These will be stored in your shelter for layering.

If the world ends tomorrow, if everything shuts down and even without a stockpile of food, you can still survive. However, essential things need to be had right away. Starting with the ability to cook your food.

No lights. No gas. You need to eat and boil water. Hence why it is important to have these right away.

If you don’t have a Coleman stove you need to make one. Or what I call a Sterno stove. One of the best sources of cooking inside is STERNO.  You can buy a six pack of Sterno at Walmart for just a couple bucks. These are something I’ll include on your ten dollar a week list occasionally. But to jump start, get three cans of Sterno.

You also need 3 bricks and a metal grate (Small and for a Coleman stove) These are also available at Walmart for 5 bucks. Except the bricks, you can find them anywhere.

A VERY thin tin pan with a lid. Thin will help heat faster and the lid seals in heat. You don’t need a large pan, small is better. Like an egg poacher. You can boil two cups fast. Did you know that once the water boils, you can blow out the Sterno,  add a fist of pasta, place on the lid and let it set and it will cook on its own? Hence conserving the Sterno.

Many things can be cooked/heated with Sterno. Remember four hours of heat per can.

How to make the stove:

Prop the grate on two bricks and a can of Sterno under the grate, one a brick. Light the Sterno. That easy!

And finally, here is your FIRST weekly list. ALL of these items can be purchased at the dollar store.

·         One box of Band Aids

·         One bottle of Ibuprofen

·         One bottle sanitizer

·         One bag of beans (Any kind)

·         One box of instant Rice

·         One box of Oatmeal

·         One gallon of water.

I realize it doesn’t seem like much, but I promise, after 51 weeks, you’ll be stocked up!

Good luck!

Tomorrow: Surviving in your house without preparation.

Resolving

So, how about BBCA had Shawn of the Dead on tonight? How ironic is that with the apocalypse year fast approaching.

It is without a doubt, the only movie I can think of where the characters have a preexisting knowledge of what a zombie is. I really like their outlook though, disbelief and a hint of ‘maybe these zombies are different than movie ones’.

That has to be up there with my favorite zombie movies.

As a writer I find it extremely hard to write a book about zombies where no one has ever heard of a zombie, it’s just seems to surpass the level of belief for me. I don’t know.

Anyhow, so the sun is acting up. Wow, I so have to get into that for a blog. But I’ll keep this one short because I doubt many people will be reading it. Let’s just say, ‘Thank you NASA’.  And let’s hope your recent news release about the misbehaving sun helps my sales on my book TORN, which coincidentally is about the sun.

I know, I know, big shocker that I’d have a book written about another way to end the world. I am trying to think of what I haven’t done.

A meteor. But that’s kind of boring. A big rock hits the earth. Yawn. I mean, I could make it ‘after’. But still. People surviving in a post meteor world. Nah.

I’ll stay clear of meteors. It is much more fun to end the world slowly and painfully.

I’ll end this blog with my Resolutions for 2012. You can skip this part if you think it’ll bore you.

·         Try to write 2 books this year that aren’t Apocalypse books.

·         Start, write and finish 5 novels. Those of you who are writers know, starting a novel is easy. Finishing it is another story.

·         Plan, prepare and really get ready for the end of the world, even if it doesn’t come.

·         Blog at least 4 times week if not more.

·         Take a vacation to Florida to visit my friend.

·         Go on three dates in 2012. I went on 3 dates in 2011 and got them all out of the way before March so I was done and didn’t have to hear about it from anyone that I didn’t date.

·         Not to get into a serious relationship and stay single for another year. It’s been pretty cool discovering who I am without a man telling me who I should be.

·         And finally, (At least as far as I can think of) do more for others as life has been more than fair and kind to me in 2011. My gas or electric didn’t get shut off once.

Zombie Apocalypse

In preparing for the apocalypse, I really want to touch upon every scenario imaginable. You know, so you’re mentally ready as well.  So, you’ll be seeing a lot of these, ‘wow this could be how the world ends’ blogs.

To kick off the ‘Wow, this could be how the world end’ blogs, I will start with the ever popular and frequent dinner conversation topic at my house … zombies.

Walking dead, undead, zombies, whatever you prefer to call them, these pesky flesh eating monsters can be a source of the world’s end.

I myself have had three encounters with zombies. Well, ok, one was a drunk woman, the other was confirmed not to be a zombie, just some guy whose glass eye popped out, the other is still up in the air.

It was in between marriages and I was dating a guy who, well, was about 50 watts short of a 75 watt bulb. I was on my way home from DJing and on the phone with ‘Not so Bright guy’. At a red light, I saw some guy, staggering on the street. I told the not-bright, “Wow, this is scary, I think I see a zombie. This guy is just staggering.”

“It’s 3 in the morning,” NSB guy said, “Maybe he’s drunk.”

Just as I was about to say, ‘Maybe’.  BAM, this guys slams, hands first into my car window. He’s moaning something, mouth gnawing, lips bleeding. I scream bloody murder, jump a foot in the air, drop the phone and hit the gas, taking off.

Well the phone broke and was on the floor. I didn’t care. More than likely this guy was beat up, in trouble and I just abandoned him. Not on purpose, I thought he was the undead. I get home and the police are at my house. Here, the not-so-bright boyfriend, when he couldn’t get a hold of me, had called them to tell them I was attacked by a zombie on Rt 51.

Needless to say I was fine and to save myself any embarrassment, I pretended I didn’t know what he was talking about. I think the not so bright former boyfriend got fined or something, for prank calling not sure.

Anyhow, my point is. Even I, Miss Apocalypse, ready for a zombie attack, was taken aback by the presence of this gnawing bloody non verbal man banging on my window. It is stupidity like that, the shock value that indeed makes us vulnerable. We get scared, we get stupid, we get bit, we turn.

With the fictional knowledge of zombies in the back of our mind, really something like a pale face, stumbling person shouldn’t scare us or make us dumb. Hence, really, they shouldn’t cause the apocalypse. But, realistically, will we immediately think ‘zombie’? Will we not try to help another in need? Me, I already proved to myself to think anyone staggering is undead and I run like hell. But I kinda think I may be the exception not the rule. Most people won’t think like that. They’ll see a bloody face and instinctively try to help, then they’ll get bit. They’ll turn, infect another good Samaritan only trying to do a good dead and before we know it, we’re over run.

So, how do we prepare and counter the attack?

That’s another blog.

Surviving the Apocalypse for ten dollars a week or less ....

In keeping with one of my new year’s resolutions, I’m going to start blogging more faithfully. Yes, I know, the new year hasn’t started yet, let’s think of this as practice. After all, this is the year of our world’s demise, right? Hence the title for the blog.

Supposedly, according to what people say the Mayans say, the world is going to end on December 21, 2012. Now considering the earth has been around for …. Let’s say a while. I firmly believe that even if some cataclysmic event should take place, there will still be survivors. There always were. Except maybe that one time where the planet rammed into us causing the creation of the moon.

Do I think the world is going to end in 2012? Um, well, not really. But, I don’t dismiss the fact that a manmade event could occur to send civilization into a frenzy. That or Yellowstone or the Siberian traps erupt.

Either way, aside from blogging about family and writing, I’ll be blogging about the apocalypse and scenarios. Also other tidbits. Included in that, once a week I will provide you with items that you need to purchase to prepare for the apocalypse.

Survival items on a budget. So, by the time December 20, 2012 rolls around, should something occur, you will be well stocked an prepared to provide for your family.

Keep in mind, I will not only be telling you your weekly survivor shopping list, I’ll be giving you things to do, search for and practice exercises.

Sound fun? I hope. Won’t it be fun watching your survival inventory grow?

And with that, here is your first task ….

The ‘pre week prepare task’

Simple. Find a spot. Whether it is your basement, a closet, a room, a storage shed, find a spot where you can store your survival items. There simple.

Clean, prep it, get ready … the journey to survival will begin on January 1^st.

I look forward to surviving with you.