Stressed

So, remember last week's post about how I was going to start writing more, submitting more, and so forth? Why is it that every time I make a plan the Universe decides to throw me a curve ball? Not fair, Universe. Not fair.

I received my share of "whammies" these last two weeks and I feel like everything is all off course. I'm not ready to share some of the bombs that got dropped right now, and might never be, but suffice it to say the last two weeks have been an emotional roller coaster. The last week of last month I was so shell shocked I spent several hours on the couch in my office watching bad reality TV (Teen Mom 3, anyone?), worse movies (Anna Karenina. Why, Kiera Knightley, why?), and eating chips and salsa (we were out of ice cream). I did get the normal shit done: cook supper, feed cats, laundry. But only because I do those things by rote. The brain was on automatic pilot. That is, until I decided wtf, me? You need to figure this stuff out and make some plans. Sitting on the couch watching other people's lives go down the drain is called wallowing. So I got off the couch and started to deal.

I thought I had things under control, but then Sean got sick and ended up in the hospital, further throwing a wrench in my plans. I got calls about CJ from his house. My mom had another neurology appointment. And another small bomb got tossed in. The result? I'm stressed to the breaking point. Seriously. There is not one aspect of my life that isn't at code red stress level right now. It's a good thing I'm one of those "glass half full" people or I'd be huddled in a small pool of my own tears.

So what it comes down to is this: I must ask anyone who is currently doing a project with AKP to be patient right now. They will get finished, they will get published, they will be awesome. It just might not all happen according to schedule. I have less than two weeks before I head to California for the birth of my second grandchild. In those two weeks I have things that, although I LOVE my job, have to come first. Those are time spent with Sean, who leaves for BASIC while I'm in California, and who has been in the hospital. A visit with my oldest son CJ because our last visit got cancelled and I miss him terribly. And also because I will miss his birthday. Another brief visit with my parents, because life is short. Packing and sending all the rest of Molly's baby stuff to her because she will need it. Stocking the house with groceries before I leave. Packing. Paying bills. Preparing to be gone for three weeks. And then flying to California to help my daughter the last week before her due date.

So yes, I am putting my family first. But if I didn't, I wouldn't be who I am. And if I wasn't who I am, you might not want to work with my anyway. But I will finish edits on the No Place Like Home anthology, and the YA novel, and the two fantastic novellas, and Fairly Wicked Tales anthology. You know why? Because next to my family, they are my passion. So a little patience is all I'm asking for. I'd do the same for you if the situation was reversed.

I figure things will get back to normal (or maybe a "new" normal) sometime around October. So stay tuned, friends. Good things are coming.

♥Stacey

Submission Sundays or What Jealousy Taught Me

So this post is "authorly" in nature, in that I am an author and I'm going to talk about writing, but it's also a post for people in general. I want to talk about something we all are either recipients of or are guilty of. What's that, you ask? JEALOUSY. I'm no stranger to the green eyed monster and I bet you aren't either.

Recently, I was made aware that some people didn't like me. WHAT?! Was my first response. And by "what" I meant "what is wrong with those people?" Because I'm always taken aback when I find out people don't like me. Unless it's someone I don't like and I've given them good reason not to like me, that's a different story. But coming from people I mostly like and hadn't done anything to, it was a shock. Then, the more we talked about it, we came to the realization that it wasn't so much dislike (well, it still might be, but not for these reasons) as jealousy. People were jealous of me. Now, I'm sure that what you're supposed to feel, what most people feel, when they find out someone is jealous of them is pride. I'm so good that people are jealous. Right? But that's not what I felt. I felt angry. Angry because it felt like their jealousy undermined my hard work. No good fortune fairy came down and tapped Mike & I on the head. Everything we have, his job, my job, a nice house, great kids, great relationships with those kids, the trips we take, everything, we worked our asses off for or went through hell for. And it felt like these people were saying we didn't deserve them, we just got lucky. And I call bullshit.

But the truth is, you never truly know anything about anyone else's life unless you live it. Those people couldn't know that I'm constantly stressed about whether my oldest son, who has autism, is happy at his group home. Is he being treated fairly, does he like the people who work there, does he miss me too much? They couldn't know how stressed I am about my youngest leaving home and how he'll never be the same person again. I will never know him as well as I do at this exact moment, because leaving home changes you. They couldn't know that I still miss my Grandma on a daily basis and how much I miss being able to share every success with the person who believed in me the most. They can't know how much my sister and I worry about our parents increasing age and declining health. Or the daily frustration of living with someone who has no short term memory. Or any of the million other things that everyone deals with on a daily basis. They didn't really know me. All they saw is what we present to the outside world. And as much as I try to be genuine and an open book in all of my interpersonal communications, I don't often share bad stuff. Mostly because I figure everyone has their own, why bring them down with mine. And truly, most of the time I choose not to dwell on mine; Mike and I adopted a policy very early on, right after CJ's diagnosis in fact, of "well, this happened, let's deal with it and move on." So I am a happy person most of the time. But it's by choice, not luck.

And because of this episode I started thinking about my own petty jealousies. Most of them work related. Such and such press signed author X. Why didn't they sub to us? So and so sold yet another story for pro rates. Why didn't I? Why aren't I having all these acceptances? So I took my own ponderings to heart and realized I have no idea what is going on in other's lives. They got those things because they worked hard for them. And if I want them? Well, I better get my ass in gear and start working harder.

A wise woman once told me  I can't measure my success by the success of others because success is personal. There's no one definition that applies across the board. And what I realized was the reason I wasn't having success was because I wasn't putting in the time and effort. If I want author X then I need to do something to put the press on their radar. And if I want an acceptance letter with a pro rate sale, well I'd better start finishing my stories/novellas/novels and submitting them. Because the truth is I bust my ass for the press, but I'm a lazy writer. I let myself get distracted, I procrastinate, I find 15 other things I "should" be doing. And that's my bad. I know what I need to do. And so, I started last week. Last weekend I sent in three submissions. I already had two out, so that's five. Four original stories and one reprint. So far, I've heard nothing back. Two I think have a real chance. The other three are a gamble. But if they come back with a rejection notice, I will research some more markets and get them out again, because that's what it takes. And from now on, I will finish one new story per month and send it out too, until I have so many subs out that the law of averages takes effect. Something has to sell, right? I mean, I have sold stories before.

So the moral of this story is I took something unpleasant and turned it around by choice. And every time you do that, the Universe smiles for like 3.5 seconds. I mean, c'mon, it's a busy Universe and you really aren't that important. But maybe it helps to bolster hope for the human race. And for you writerly types who are still with me? The lesson is: success comes with backbreaking (or mind bending in this case) labor. Not good luck, not fairies or wishing wells, but your own sweat and tears. You have to put the work in to reap the rewards. And will we all make it? No. I mean some people just aren't ready, or talented enough, or even interesting. But no one is going to make it if they don't try, if they don't keep trying. And the more you write, the more you read other's writing, the more you work on your craft, the better you get. And the better you get, the better your chances of acceptance. It's a circle of win.

So I'm starting "Submission Sundays." Every Sunday I will evaluate my submissions. The ones sent back rejected, will be looked at, tweaked, and sent somewhere else. New stories will get the same treatment. I want to have at least five and possibly ten subs out at all times. This Sunday, I have a "pass" since they are all still out and I didn't get anything new written or finished this week. But I'm looking for some of you writers out there to join me. I might even make a Facebook group. Because I do better when held accountable to others. And so do some of you. And some of you are good all on your own, but might enjoy kicking other's in the pants. C'mon, it'll be fun.

And stop being jealous. Shake it off, look around, and appreciate your own blessings. You might not want the other person's bad times or dues they paid to get those good things.

♥Stacey

Here's the thing...

I don't usually use my blogs for political or societal commentary posts. It's not who I am and besides, I much prefer to make people laugh. So if you want a laugh, I promise to put up a funny blog on What Passes for Sane on a Crazy Day. But on this blog, on this day, I need to let some frustration out.

Except for checking my birthday greetings (thank you so much, everyone), I didn't really get on FB much Friday, Saturday or Sunday. I didn't have time, I didn't have WI-fi, and I was busy being mistaken for a fugitive. But I'm glad I didn't. I saw a few posts that upset me greatly and I'm glad I had the chance to process what I wanted to say before I had the chance to actually say it. I wish more people would make that a habit.

So here's the thing... what happened in Connecticut is awful. It makes me want to curl up in a ball and give up on the world. My heart goes out to those families. I can't imagine losing a child at all, much less to an act of senseless violence. It makes me want to change things. It makes me want to mend our country so that we don't breed monsters who slaughter innocent children. What it doesn't make me want to do is blame everyone else. It doesn't make me want to say "if you disagree with my opinion, we are no longer friends." So why does it make so many people want to do just that?

I saw so many gun control posts, so many "if you don't agree, you're a moron" and "if you don't agree with me, I'll think less of you" posts. Really? So now it's wrong to have a differing opinion? Does anyone truly believe that their political posts are going to change our country? It's that attitude, that pervasive "mine, and people who agree with me, is the only RIGHT opinion" that's carrying this once great nation to hell in a hand basket. What happened to respecting others, what happened to intelligent discourse on a subject, what happened to compromise? Not one of you is a damned expert on the subjects you were so rigorously mouthing off about. Not one. So what makes yours the right opinion? The most intelligent opinion? And how dare you say that if I disagree I'm a moron? Or that you'll think less of me? How dare you?!

I have a very good friend that I've known since high school. Though she's moved all over the country and we haven't always lived in close proximity, we've remained as close as sisters. Our political views couldn't be more opposite. We agree on almost nothing in the political scheme of things. And yet, I don't love her any less for this. Because I respect her right to not agree with me. I respect her intelligence and integrity. I know that we have had different life experiences which have caused us to develop different perspectives and perceptions. We live in different places, with different problems. We agree to disagree without disrespecting each other. We engage in intelligent, non-combative discourse. Sometimes, we even begin to think the other may have a point. That's what adults with a modicum of intelligence and respect do. They don't scream their hatred for people who think differently than they do on a social media site. They don't try to place blame squarely in their opponent's laps. They look in the mirror and evaluate their own actions and realize that they may share some of the blame for a country in desperate need of new legislation and attention to what's lacking.

*The next part is my opinion only. And if it makes you think I'm a moron, or you think less of me for it, well, feel free to unfriend me, never work with me again, or whatever punishment you deem necessary. Chances are, I won't give a f*ck.*

I live in a house with guns. My husband, son, and son-in-law all hunt. So we have shotguns and rifles. We also have a hand gun, which I enjoy shooting at targets. And I'm a damn good shot. I don't want to kill anything with it. But if I was forced to, I would defend my family and my home. If I didn't have a gun, I'd use a knife, or any other weapon I could find. I believe I have the right to own those guns. Does this mean I'm anti-gun control? Yes and no. I believe we need different legislation. I don't believe anyone should be able to purchase a gun without a background check. I don't believe anyone other than the military needs an assault rifle or automatic weapons. I believe everyone should have to take classes in gun safety and handling before they own a gun. I believe that like we do in Illinois, you should have to have a firearm owner's ID in order to purchase a gun or ammo. But I also understand the fear of many gun owner's that once gun laws are passed, it will open the door to taking away our arms completely. That's where that forgotten word "compromise" enters the equation.

I also don't think that new gun legislation is going to solve the problem. Not unless it's accompanied by better mental health care in the United States. Because honestly, guns don't kill people. Crazies with guns kill people. And until we have more options for the treatment of mentally ill people, better health care systems for them, and more intelligent discourse on the subject, nothing's going to change. You can take away their guns, but you can't take away their harmful intent. In China, where gun ownership is illegal, a man attacked school children with a knife. He didn't manage to kill any, just maim them. The point is, if a mentally ill person wants to hurt others, they will. And even one death is too many.

So, better gun legislation, intelligent discussion, better options for the treatment of the mentally ill? Sounds like a good start. And I haven't blamed anyone. There are other things that I think would help solve some of the problems of the society we're living in, and I could place blame on one side of the political forum for those problems, but the fact is, we're all responsible and neither side is all right, or all wrong. We need to remember that this country was founded on the right to be different. The right to have an opinion that's maybe not popular. We were founded on the freedom to think for ourselves. So let's the stop the blame game and the screaming and the name calling. Instead, let's turn our hearts and minds to mending our nation. Because it's broken, guys. And the duct tape will only hold it for so long.

♥Stacey