Today marked a personal milestone worthy of celebration, and yet I didn’t quite feel like celebrating.
On Feb 4th 2020, my debut novel (THE SPIRIT PROJECTOR) became available for purchase in print version. While online book retailers list the book’s publication date as Dec 2019, it wasn’t actually released until Feb 4th. Thus, I consider 2/4/20 as my book’s birthday!
Last year I went big in celebration – ran a book giveaway and had a social media live event. Friends and family joined in on the fun, cheering me on.
My self-published debut floundered in sales and excitement, leading me to doubt my passion. That doubt hit me like a wall of bricks today, and the rain that slid down the sunroom windows mirrored the tears that just wouldn’t flow.
I do not write the above as a desire for sympathy or call to help boost my ego. I write to heal; it’s cathartic act bringing clarity.
I am a writer who’s not always confident in her skill/talent/ability. Most days I am, but not this day. I started the Love Write Now Pledge to push myself out of this creative rut so even though my inspiration lacked today, I refused to give up the pledge so quickly.
I have much of which to be proud; I wrote and published a novel, for goodness sake’s! For all of you out there who may be doubting yourself or your passions, don’t give up. Pick up that pen, paintbrush, microphone, or chef’s hat and keep creating your art. You are worth it!!
I read fan fiction. I absolutely, positively do! Not only do I read it, but I’ve been writing my own version of fan fiction for decades. I’ve just never published any of it.
Character and dialogue are the glue that hold a story together, for if either seems unbelievable then I quickly lose interest. Pairing characters romantically (on the screen or page) can lead to richer character development if done well. When the author or screenwriter chooses a different path than I anticipated, my creative writing juices flow. Hence, my passion for fan fiction. (Yes, I used “hence”; it’s a personal favorite.)
Fan fiction artists range in skill level, as any artist does, and some stray completely from the book/film/series canon into alternate universes all their own. Yet there are plenty whose talent shines through their use of dialogue and voice that’s in keeping with the characters of which they love.
It’s those works in which I can get lost in for hours, envisioning what they create as though it was a scene left on the cutting room floor. These writers have a clear understanding and respect for the original source material, infusing new or altered story ideas that can be backed up by the source content.
So, Day 2 of the Love Write Now Pledge involves me perusing fan fic sites for my favorite fictional characters before I head to my computer for work on my own original source material. Perhaps one day, my characters will end up with a fan fic following!
Two days from the date of this post (in the second month of 2022), my debut novel turns 2!!!! Can you tell by my overuse of exclamation points how excited I am? 😉
About a month after THE SPIRIT PROJECTOR’s release in 2020 the world went quiet due to COVID-19; so too did my enthusiasm for writing. While many artists made the best out of a terrible situation, I put my pencil down. TSP is but the first in a planned trilogy, and book two is barely written.
Two years later, I feel renewed. Motivated. Excited. Determined. What’s the difference from then and now? The realization that love guides my very soul, in the choices I make and the goals to which I aspire.
I’m not talking about love in the romantic sense of the word; rather, a spiritual (notice how I didn’t say religious) foundation that guides me forward. I write because I love the act and art of it. I write for ME, not anyone else. Yet in publishing my novel, I became too caught up in whether others loved it. So much so that I fell out of love with writing for a time.
To reignite my passion, I pledge to write throughout the month of February. I will post a new entry every day, all focused in some way on the topic of LOVE. After all, my best writing tends to be from the heart!
I don’t know about you, my friends, but I lacked motivation and inspiration to write during the last year and a half. I had the time (plenty of it), and yet my creativity seemed burnt out.
Then an unexpected trip to a local park a few weeks ago inspired me to write two new chapters of book two in my YA Fantasy trilogy. ✏️✏️✏️ I gazed out at the lake, the sunlight dancing across the Fall leaves and water’s surface, and felt energized.
Photo credit: K Deeny
I’ve since written two more chapters, and want to keep up the momentum. With November being the major month for writing challenges, I decided to create one to help spark some writing inspiration.
DETAILS
Create an individualized writing Spark Sheet (aka Goal List) for the month of November; the intention being to ignite creativity. Push past your comfort zone and write for the love of it.
Revisit a work in progress from years ago, or create a new one altogether. Write at your own pace – let inspiration guide you!
FOR EXAMPLE: Set a Goal to…
Write {insert number here} hours per week.
Put yourself in an environment that interests you.
Go to a local park, museum, or holiday festival.
Find a writers’ group/research info on a writing conference.
Use the weekly prompts (to be posted each Monday in November)
Your individual writing goals may change as you move through the month, and that’s OK! Try not to overthink the process.
If anyone wants to share what their Spark Sheet looks like, please do! It just may inspire a fellow writer. Don’t compare your goals with another’s. This is about your writing needs.
I’ll post a new writing prompt each Monday (starting Nov 1st), and a “check-in” on Fridays.
Catherine of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Anna of Cleves, Katherine Howard, and Catherine Parr – all Queens whose lives have been retold and reshaped to suit history’s story. Were my sister Jen (a history buff and lifelong feminist) alive today, she’d be none too pleased with how little I knew of these Queens before SIX THE MUSICAL.
Eight times a week, at the Brooks Atkinson Theater, we are challenged to re-examine that history and give them a voice in a world that silenced them. SIX THE MUSICAL features powerhouse vocalists and musicians (all women) whose performances elicit joy, laughter, awe, and introspection.
For the first time in nearly 2 years I sat in Broadway theater, awaiting the house lights to dim and six queens to take their rightful place on stage. My emotions swirled – anticipation, joy, comfort, belonging. And then I felt at home. At first, I thought “home” meant Broadway; the way my body tingles and my soul expands during musical theater performances. It wasn’t until the train ride home, as I drafted a professional-style review in my head, that I realized I felt at home because it was though my older sister’s spirit (5 years gone) filled the empty seat next to me.
Jennifer and I were as different as could be, but we were the eldest sisters in our family and thus shared an unlikely bond. While we may not have understood one another, we loved each other. Where Jen was fierce in her passion for animal welfare and women’s rights, I attended Mass regularly and breathed everything animated fairytales.
Jen’s love of history came from a place I never understood. It was but names, dates, and places to me – distant and in the past. How could learning history help me in the present? She loved to push my buttons, and consistently challenged me to re-examine the stories of women in history. To see them as patriarchal perspectives dictated in scriptures and fiction, but also understand they were women who were complex and fierce – brave and powerful.
I didn’t always react well to her attempts at in-depth feminist lessons – most times I viewed her as angry and unable to move forward. So, I built up a wall and crafted my own story of her – never truly brave enough to ask the questions I wasn’t certain I wanted answered.
Jennifer wasn’t the easiest for me to understand or reach and while I was immersed in my own mental health struggles, I couldn’t see past to recognize hers. She lived fierce, but also with struggles not always overcome. My family and I have mourned her passing five years ago in different ways, but there are times I sense her presence in unusual circumstances – like a Broadway theater.
I live with immense guilt and regret for not seeing her truth or pushing past my own trauma to understand hers. There’s so much of Jen’s story that I will never know, and I’ve felt selfish in wanting to know more because it’s “not my story to tell”. However, as a writer and amateur genealogist I yearn to write her story (and thus mine) in the hope that it helps someone else going through a similar situation.
Had she been alive today, I’d have offered her my extra ticket to see SIX. Instead, before the show I lit a candle at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in her memory and told her I loved her. While she could not be at the theater in person, I believe she occupied the empty seat next to me in spirit – cheering for not only the artists on stage but her little sister too.
Now, I yearn to know the stories of women overlooked and misrepresented in history. I’m also currently working on a genealogical writing project to tell the stories of the women who came before me and am writing book two in my YA Fantasy book trilogy.
Jennifer’s with me on this journey forward, acknowledging our unbreakable bond and smiling at the fact I now embrace the feminist label!
Learn more about the brilliance that is SIX THE MUSICAL and go see it live!!!!
We did it, my friends! We reached the completion of this inaugural 7-week writing challenge!!!!!!
Though the challenge has come to its end, keep up the momentum. Perhaps you discovered a new genre you’d like to pursue further. Maybe you started a new story that’s taking you to unexpected places. If you need to go back to any of the weekly prompts, they will remain posted for you to download.
Thanks to all who participated, whether you chose to share your work or keep it close. I didn’t succeed with my writing goals each week, but I am reinvigorated in my pursuit of current works in progress – like finishing book two in my YA Fantasy trilogy. 😉
I close by sharing the work submitted for Week 7’s prompt…
NOW – a poem by Laurie Hong
Rockets whiz by fast
Children run under tables
As a rose opens
MEMORIAL DAY 2021 – a poem by A.L. Dowdell
It’s just a minor holiday, you say-
a time for family picnics in the park
or an extended weekend at the beach-
weather permitting-of course.
You say nothing of the men and women
from this country who fought for your freedom-
countless lives lost in service to their country.
You don’t mention the blood they shed or
the sacrifices they made
on the beaches of Normandy or in
the desert of Iraq.
It’s just another day to you-
A day off from work and one day
closer to your summer vacation.
But to the mothers who lost their sons and daughters in conflict,
to the soldiers who are currently deployed
and to their families, today is more than a mark on a calendar.
For all who served and never returned
CARRYING ON THE MEMORIES PASSED
by Kelly Deeny
On this Memorial Day 2021, my thoughts turn to my Uncle Frank. What if Frank never joined the Army, never got sent to Vietnam, never died in a bombing less than two weeks later. What if he’d lived to see his daughter grow up? Would his parents be able to rectify their fragile marriage instead of the irreparable damage done after his death? Would my father’s life journey veered onto an alternate course – would he have met my mother, still pondered life’s big questions, or sought spiritual answers in the midst of chaos?
I’m fascinated by time-travel stories – by going back and witnessing history in its present. However, I never like it when those stories lead to history being changed when the observers become history’s editors. Are there moments in history that I wonder if I’d change if I could? Yes, yes, I absolutely would! I’d take a bullet for Honest Abe or MLK Jr. I’d wave a magic wand to unchain all the slaves from bondage or be a station agent on the underground railroad. No matter how much I wish I could change the past, I can’t go back in time – only forward, carrying with me the knowledge and truth of the history in which my ancestors lived. I can learn, bear witness, and seek reparations for those harmed by the actions (or inactions) of those who came before.
What’s passed is past. We can look back and move forward acknowledging the pain and struggle endured while resolving to create a future story we’d be proud to share. We mourn the loss of those gone in horrific, sudden, and violent ways – wishing we could undue what was done and take away their pain. My uncle’s life ended at the young age of eighteen, killed in a bombing while serving his country. I can’t erase the grief suffered by his family, but I can learn to appreciate the time I have with those I love. I can learn his story and those of others with whom he served to carry on the memories outside of war.
I often wonder now that I’ve reached “middle age” how my life could’ve been quite different had but one moment in my history changed. Any one moment in my ancestors’ past could have altered my own journey. My spirit may have chosen a different time and body in which to experience this life, an alternate family or experience from which to grow. It’s so easy to get caught up in the “ifs” that you fail to recognize the “what is”.
Pat yourselves on the back! Do a celebratory dance! You’ve surpassed the halfway mark in the 7-week writing challenge!!!!! (Have I mentioned yet how much I love exclamation points?)
Week four in the challenge was all about the world of Science Fiction and Fantasy – my favorite genres. Oddly enough, I didn’t get very far in my new story idea though I definitely intend to keep working on it. I should have been focused on the second book in my YA Fantasy trilogy, but decided to write a Mother’s Day post instead.
This week’s showcase solely features the creative work of our new friend, Lauren Hong. I love what she’s written so far and am excited to read more!
**Join me in congratulating Lauren on a challenge well met by commenting below.**
COLOR ME NOT – (work in progress)
I am sick of the color WHITE! I hate wearing a white uniform every single day. The walls of my module are white. My furnishings are white. In fact, my facility is painted all white. I am not allowed to see any other colors. Even my parents wear white. How did this happen? Let me start at the beginning to explain this horrible predicament.
My name is Blank. That isn’t actually even my real name. My parents gave me this peculiar name temporarily as they wanted me to choose my own name when I turn 15. I am now 14 years old. I do like the idea of picking my own name. It is so personal to try to come up with the perfect name to match my unique personality. Right now, my friends call me “Bla”.
As a curious teenager, I am lanky for my age and I wear thick white framed glasses. Unfortunately, I was not a good candidate for replacement blink eye surgery. I do however have a right bionic arm because I fell off my fit-tech jungle gym when I was a toddler. I am afraid of zigzag worms but I can beat anyone in online PV Pixel Penguin. Because I am not allowed outside of my unit, I am home schooled by robot tutors.
I was born in the year 2192 on the planet Zertan. My parents chose Zertan because it reminded them of their ancestors’ quaint little community back on Earth. On Zertan, citizens can transport themselves around without wearing spacesuits as our district is covered by a huge polymer plastic bubble. My parents enjoy shuttling to other intergalactic districts but they never let me go with them. I am forced to remain in and around my complex until I turn 17.
The idea for my so-called confinement started before I was born. My parents wanted to give back to the community and support the Zertan Government. My parents thought they could assist the Zertan Administrators in testing theories for our planet. Since Zertan is a newly inhabited planet, the Administrators have many experiments that children can participate in. Don’t get me wrong. It is not like kids are forced to replace their body parts or drink green goo. Some of the studies go under the heading of “Smart Tech Eyebrows” and “Laser Snack Packaging.”
Since my parents both enjoyed studying ancient art history, they wanted to put me in an experiment called “Cool Colors.” They planned exactly when I would be born so I could be chosen for the “Cool Colors” study. I was one of 12 infants picked from over three hundred applicants.
Kelly Deeny 