Worlds.

Trying to break into worlds is hard.

No, this isn’t about me trying to find a way into another galaxy or proving that there is life in space. What I’m stating, is facts, that when you try to break into worlds it’s hard.

The writing community is huge. A lot of book worms, writers, authors, agents, editors, etc. && trying to get welcomed into it is like trying to sit at the popular table in high school. Sadly, I was never invited.

I have never been good at popularity contests && I wasn’t part of the “in crowd” && thinking that the writing community makes me feel like that is a harsh reality. I honestly know it’s not a popularity contest… but I feel like that. I also feel if you don’t have the money to spend you’ll never be published.

I figured the best way for an unknown is to publish it myself. Which is totally fine – I don’t mind doing the hard work. But I really wanted a professional editor to read through it, find the errors but unless I can poop out nearly $3,000 that will never happen. &&& I know they are worth the money, I just don’t have it to spend.

Then I think ‘okay, let’s skip the professional editing.’ Knowing that it’s self published, “most” readers will look over a lot of them. I will just edit the crap out of it.

Next hurdle. To self-publish, you need extra money. Thousands. I found a company that helps self publish but as I began reading I realized that not only do they request thousands of dollars they also keep 80¢ on every dollar for themselves so I would only get 20¢ of every dollar sold. Whereas, if I do it all myself and use Amazon, I get 70% of the royalties.

But then I think about going with my other passion but breaking into the food world is just as hard – if not harder. I guess when they say “you need money to make money” they weren’t kidding. But sadly, here I am with no money.

I did upload a couple chapters of the book. I figured if it gets enough notice that either that company will want to publish it or it shows that if I was to save the money, step-by-step it, that people would be interested in purchasing the book.

Frost.

Mara Montgomery spends her days cooking and cleaning for her stepmother and two stepsisters. But after an accident one night, Mara finds her life changing forever. When she arrives back home and see’s that everything has changed, her anger turns into revenge, before taking off deciding her life isn’t what she always thought it would be. Mara is only partially accepting with the reality she was facing when she is approached by the charming, rude, and egotistical Kristopher Plague.

Kristopher Plague comes across to the public as the ordinary rich boy, not wanting for anything, living in the largest house on the West side of town. He uses his notorious good looks and money to gratify his every need, but is secretly obsessed with Mara, the only girl he cannot have. Once she appears in his yard in the middle of the night, almost as a knight in shining armor, he will do anything and everything in his power to make her his. Until a guy, NiKlaus Cuttingham, appears out of the shadows and threatens to take everything that is his.

NiKlaus Cuttingham is Chief of Police and all-around terrific guy, and brother of Mara Montgomery’s best friend, Megan. He finds himself hunting down the ‘bad guys’ and rescuing damsels in distress. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine the girl-next-door would need some saving and he would find himself tangled in the middle of lies, deceit, and murder.

*********************************

I’m slowly finishing up the novel. I’m to the point where I have let someone have the first four chapters to read. I’m still scared to death – which of course, everything that the person says I overthink it && make it worse in my head.

The question is – from the blurb – would you read it?

I have had the blurb for the back of the book written for years, I’m not sure if I have ever shared it before, but here it is. I’m wanting to find one more person to edit it, start to finish, after I finish reading through it, but I’m not sure who to use. I know I can’t use an official editor, because I don’t have the money for it && I refuse to ask someone who does it for a living to do it for free. Because – that’s like asking me to go to work for a week && not get paid for it. I wouldn’t do it I don’t expect them to do it.

Anyhoo… I am up to chapter 19 of 29-ish. It’s either 28 or 29 chapters. Then I have to upload my changes once again && then hopefully find someone who…

I’m worried about giving it to someone who has been in my life for a long time because I fear they will tell me what they think I want to hear because they are afraid of hurting my feelings. It’s one of those, I’d rather them hurt my feelings because if they tell me it’s good, I go to get it published (whether I do it myself or through a company) the criticism will be worse than a friend/family telling me they didn’t like it.

Ya know?

I have my goal to finish is by Summer of 2022. Getting it published is a different story.

Something Simple.

I am writing/editing.

It’s been a while since I spoke about my writing journey. Lately, it’s been about my health and that journey. But last week, while I was off from work for a few days, I found myself finally pulling it back out && working on Frost. Did I finish it? Of course not. But I did finally get chapter ten finished, and retyped on my USB. Then I followed that up with chapters 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 && 16. I am now working on chapter 17, which is… a lot longer than I thought it was. However, most of it will be taken out.

When I began writing Frost, I was going for numbers versus content. Well, I recently read a self-published book and it was HARD to get through. In fact, I never finished it. I bought it, so I did help the author, I just didn’t enjoy it. After reading that one I realized that going for numbers versus content isn’t going to work. So I have a lot of “junk” in my writing that I need to take out. Which is where I’m at right now. Trying to get the “junk” out but keeping what I need for the book to make sense.

I know I’m going to be my hardest critic, like, there isn’t another person on this planet who is going to hate my writing as much as I hate it. So me trying to edit what I wrote is hard. I’m hard myself because of my word phrasing or my tenses, or spelling errors. I am hard on myself because I think it’s crap && no one is going to want to read it. Or the ones who want to read it hates it because it’s crap.

That’s what I feel when I look at it. That it’s pure crap. Nothing but && needs to be flushed with the rest of the crap. But I’m trying. I am, I’m honestly trying to finish it without throwing it in the trash. Although, if I did throw it away maybe it’ll be like Stephen Kings book, Carrie, that his wife dug out. I mean, he did throw that away. Hah! who am I kidding? I will NEVER have a career in writing like Stephen King. I will be lucky if this book even gets published. Hopefully, if it does, I’m not dead && someone in my family is going through my stuff and find the book && read it and then publish it. Dude! It would suck for the book to be popular, when I’m dead.

But that’s how it usually is, right? Most great writers aren’t found until they are dead. Eh, but with social media, I don’t think that would be the issue. The issue is that I haven’t completely finished the book and I began it in November 2012. But I’m sure I’ve stated that before && I’ve also stated that I finished the rough draft in January of 2015. So, since then, I’ve been trying to edit it, which I have rewritten the first five chapters approximately 500 times. Like, if I were to rewrite those chapters anymore, I’m pretty sure I’d have to rewrite the whole book. Every time I go to edit another chapter my mind starts reeling && I ended up wanting to change something else. But alas, I keep having to tell myself that I cannot keep rewriting the book.

Telling myself something is a lot easier than actually doing it. I want to find someone that will edit it for me. A professional editor, if you will. But at the same time I don’t want to ask one because it’s their job so they’ll want money && I don’t have any to give them. So then I thought maybe I could get a friend of two to read it && see if it’s even worth finishing. But I still have the option of complete strangers. Strangers will tell you the truth. Friends && family, not usually. Because in their heart of hearts they don’t want to hurt my feelings. So they’d read as much as they could, then tell me it’s great to finish it, but in reality it’s crap and I end up putting it in the back of my closet && never writing again.

That’s my writing rut, by the way. I have been in this position for years. It’s not something that just popped up all of a sudden. When I read articles about how to get out of the rut it always says to read more. Read often – read all of the time. Reading is supposed to help a writer get out of the funk. But, up until just recently, I haven’t been able to read a full book. I’ll begin a book, get bored, and never pick it back up. Even from my favorite author. I have read all of his books except one – because of the reading rut. I don’t want to start the book, then get bored, && never pick it back up. So I just never did. However, I was scanning through Amazon the other week and found a set of books. I bought the first one to check it out and ended up reading the whole book in one day. Went back && bought the other two. They aren’t long books, but the way I have been lately, a novella is a great way to start back up. Which, is I think, half of the reason I have been able to edit my book. Do I know that for sure? No – I could have actually just been really bored last week and thought hey, my book is there.

But I will say if you get the chance to read the three book series I’m a Therapist && My Patient is… by Dr. Harper, read them. Apparently they began on /reddit and after a lot of asking for them in a book, he finally wrote them. I have enjoyed them, but some people say they are stupid. So I guess it just depends on your taste in books. My taste ranges it just depends on how it’s written.

I’m honestly hoping to have my book completely edited by the end of the year, but I realize we are only a few days away from August so the year is almost over – it might not happen this year. But I don’t plan on not being able to finish it, so I will eventually. Maybe one day I’ll look up an Author and it’ll say that it took them ten years to write their first book. Doubt it. But maybe…

I’m keeping faith, though, that if I ever actually finish this one, get it published, that if I choose to write another one that it won’t be this hard or take THIS long. Wow. The ten year thing was a joke until I just counted the years. Dude! November of 2022…. will be ten years. That’s crazy!

I guess if it does take me until next November I can call it the Ten Year Book. It’d go along with calling Boyfriend the Seven Year Dude (Syd).

Just let me mope…

I have spend years trying to think of that one thing in life that brings me joy. I narrowed it down to writing and cooking – writing first, cooking second. It’s how it has been for the last few years. You know, it’s not like I don’t talk about it enough.

But lately – neither of them give me thrills like they use to. I don’t feel like cooking and when I do cook I’m grump, and uncomfortable. I haven’t made anything new or interesting – it’s basically what’s quick and easy. Writing has been worse. When I sit and try to write I barely get anything wrote. In fact, this is the longest thing I have written in months. I can’t edit Frost, and I can’t seem to write anything new.

I thought maybe I had a writing slump – sometimes that happens. Then I thought I had a cooking slump. I’m afraid, however, that I am in a life slump. I just don’t have the oomph to do anything and it shows. Lately, I don’t even want to go to work. Give me short term and just let me mope about at home. &&& what makes it worse, I have no idea what’s wrong.

The last time I felt like this my brother ended up shipping me off to Texas to stay with my grandfather for months. &&& now we can’t. I can’t go anywhere. I can’t do anything. I’m just blah and have to keep trudging forward. I just wish I’d stop taking it out on the boyfriend before he gets sick of it. Although, I did tell him beforehand, that I get moody for no reasons && usually can’t figure out how to fix it.

I need a vacation. Doesn’t everyone, right? Or maybe just a harmonica and I can play the blues. Does that actually fix anything? Probably not…

I should be asleep…

I was laying in bed messing around on my phone and came across the app for this site and I realized it has been quite awhile since I last wrote – so I thought I would write a little something. I’m not sure how this will end up or what I’ll talk about.

But something…

I want to say that I haven’t been writing because my life has been busy and hectic and I honestly didn’t have any time to write. But that would be a lie. I wish I could tell you that I have had my nose deep in writing and that I am near completion of the book I’ve been writing since 2012 (Frost is the title, don’t forget – one day.) But that would be a lie. If only I could tell you that I have this wonderful new job and I have been wanting to work hard and be helpful to everyone around. But that would be a lie.

Truth is – I have writers block so bad that I can’t unscramble my thoughts. Boyfriend && I have decided to buy a house (thoughts are glued to that so bad that I have actually forgotten to pay bills.) I don’t work any more or less than I have in the past eight years. So basically, my lack of writing is pure laziness on my part.

So, with that in mind, I opened the laptop today to at least write a small something or another.

I have been thinking about starting a YouTube channel. I have actually been thinking about that since 2015, but I chicken out. No, I wouldn’t say chicken out – it’s more about how I would come across to people whether they are in my life or complete strangers. I could never come up with a topic – YouTube channels have ‘topics’. Most of them are gaming, make-up, or tutorials. So I broke it down – I am not a gamer. I can not even do my own make up, let alone try to teach people to do it and I have no talent to explain how to do something to strangers. So that’s where I was at until earlier this year. Well, a few months ago, to be exact.

I find myself just messing around on Facebook a lot, not really doing anything, just looking. One night while Boyfriend played PUBg, I was watching videos on there and came across Mukbang’s. (Before you think, oh no, not another one)… I do not plan on starting a Mukbang channel. But what I did realize is that my love of food could be a channel – but for cooking. So that’s there – I don’t know if I’ll ever actually do it – I’m not sure if I have the face for videos.

It’ll probably never happen – It is probably a very stupid idea.

>subject change<

On the buying of house, that you’re probably wondering why I’m not talking about more – it’s… still in work of progress. I’ll talk about that more at a later date, but it’ll happen.

>subject change<

“Frost”.. isn’t any closer to be finished, but it’s there – always on my mind. Stalking my mind like a crazy man wanting a date. I have faith that one day I’ll finish it. I was hoping it would be by the end of this year (yes, I know, the year isn’t even half over… oh wait, this is the sixth month – so it’s half way over. But yes, I know I still have six months before the year is over; I’m just basically getting prepared for the inevitable.)

So yeah, that’s where I’m at – not on top, not on bottom. Just somewhere floating around in the middle. But it’s after two in the morning and I should be sleeping… Hopefully I can write more and stuff and other stuff and more stuff and less stuff and crooked stuff and side ways stuff and stuff filled with more stuff covered in stuff.

Until that stuff happens…

Once in a dream…

When I was younger I had a dream. It seems silly to me now, but as a child, it’s what I aspired to. I dreamed about what it would be like to stand in front of a crowd, chanting my name, holding lighters up wanting more.

I wanted to be a rock star!

I didn’t want to do it for the money or even the fame. If I wanted that, my choice would have been to be an actor – I just wanted to sing – to be on a stage.

That’s half the reason I chose to be in band – the other half, because I love music. Being in band (I played clarinet) gave me the opportunity to be on a stage multiple times a year. But it wasn’t enough, so in middle school I signed up for the talent show. First year I sang a Britney Spears song, yes, seriously, I was in middle school in the early 2000’s. The second time I sang an ‘Nsync song. (It may be the other way around – I’ve slept a lot since then.)

I may have lost both years but it was by far the best moments of my life. (That’s sad, right?) I probably would have kept entering it but thanks to a group of guys and their screamo, they stopped holding it. They eventually started again, but it was after I dropped out. (That’s for another day.)

As I have gotten older the feeling has calmed however the feeling still appears. My job has an event center which of course has a large stage. Sometimes we’ll have classes and I’ll space out staring at the stage – daydreaming.

The feeling has exploded but not exactly for the stage. I may still get that fuzzy feeling for the stage, but now I get that feeling for the printed word.

I was told once, “If you’re meant to do something you’ll always be thinking about it. When you go to sleep, wake up, and in between.” When I was younger it was singing, performing; anything dealing with the stage – that I thought about all the time. As I’ve aged my thoughts have changed and it’s always thinking about writing.

When I’m not writing, I’m thinking about it. That’s, I think, why I get so frustrated when I get “writers block”. It’s also why I get so angry at myself when I think about ‘Frost’.

I know I question whether I’m supposed to be a writer or not a lot, but it’s not because I don’t want to, but rather – shouldn’t it be easier? Is it normal for someone to take over six years to write a book? I mean, technically, I ‘finished’ it back in 2015. Since then I Have been attempting to edit it – all I seem to do is change things. I basically rewrite it, become aggravated, stop writing for months just to pick it back up – starting over at chapter one, to begin rewriting it again. I swear I have rewrote ‘Frost’ at least thirty times.

I’m never happy with it. I even know that I’ll always be my biggest critic – so why do I do this to myself?

I have this plan! My plan! A great plan! Since I am my biggest critic, and I will probably never like my writing, I decided that after it’s finished – COMPLETELY – I would offer three people the chance to read it and tell me what they think. People I know won’t sugar coat it, or lie because they don’t want to hurt my feelings. I know it’ll be rough, most first books are – I am not going to be the next Jane Austen (I find her work hard to read). I just want to find my voice, my way – be the best Barbara Hightower I can. That’s all I can achieve. I can’t try to be another writer – just me. Because I know, if I am not, I’ll always be disappointed in myself and that’ll be a crappy life.

But first – I must finish ‘Frost’ – which I say a lot. For most, that’s a simple request, but for me – Queen of Procrastination – not so much.

I figured I would end this with a poem –

Silence! I scream loud!
A void, I feel deep, expands,
Forming frustration.

Until next time!
Peace. Love. && Fried Chicken.

PROOF! That I am in fact, editing Frost. Was able to get two chapters done yesterday.

Goodbye 2018 : Hello 2019

2018 – was horrible.

I’ve noticed a lot of people seem to agree with me on how horrible last year was. I honestly cannot think of anything good that happened – just bad. Buried my grandfather && a close cousin. I watched as the days passed showing me nothing but grey skies and sadness.

But as I sit here, January 2, 2019, I am hoping for a better year. I would say it couldn’t get any worse, but that’s not true. It could get 10x worse, but I refuse to allow that. Hopefully.

2018 I made one resolution. One I honestly thought I could fulfill. I did not – so I am keeping it for this year too: finish Frost. Completely.

But for 2019, I am adding a new one: to get healthy. To be a better me. What it will take? Only time will tell.

For now, my top goal is my book. It may never be published through a big company, and be found on every bookshelf worldwide, but at least I can say that I finished it. Wrote it. Something that I have wanted to do since I began.

So, that’s where I sit. 2018 was crap. 2019 HAS to be better. 2018 I accomplished nothing. 2019 I HAVE to accomplish something. 2018 was not my favorite year. 2019 shall be the first of great many years to come. 2018 was not my worse years (that would be 2003 && 2011.) But it is up there. 2019 – please be better.

Today’s Thought.

I will get my novel, Frost, published.

Dear Diary : #1

I don’t know what happened to me. I used to be the epitome of writing. Wrote constantly. Anything && everything I could. But now – not so much. I know I complain about writing a lot, but I promise this isn’t going to be thirty-three paragraphs about how I just can’t seem to write anymore.

Nope. Not in the least.

Today’s Complaint = I am in a reading rut!

(This also won’t be a thirty-two paragraph rant, either.)

I have tried a few different styles && a part of me thinks that is what may actually have put me in the rut. Sadly, I LOVE romance novels. Always have. The idea that someone could have the perfect relationship – the kind they want, anyway – makes me happy. Even if it’s between two fake people with fake families and fake friends. The thoughts came from a real person. So it counts somewhere.

Me? I love reading romance, any kinds. I love writing romance – all kinds. (No “smut”, though, I can’t seem to get through that without laughing at myself.) So no worries about getting the next 50 Shades of Grey.

Romance is my thing – has been since I could remember. I love every aspect of a good romance novel. But I like taking a romance novel and putting a horrible twist to it, so when the love reunites it’s even stronger than it ever was.

So I started my novel. I figured I could do whatever I wanted and put the characters through what I choose fitting. So November of 2012 I began my novel (“Frost”). Oh, boy, was I excited. The excitement is still there it’s just a tad burned out. Not because I don’t want to finish it, I do! Oh trust me, I want to finish it. But I guess my goals just didn’t add up and now I’m a little on the sad part.

What goals?

I decided, when I began writing again (around nineteen), that I wanted to be published by 30. That seems like a good amount of years to write a novel, send out manuscripts, and get someone to fall in love with my story.

The problem?

I’m a little under two months away from joining the 30’s Club &&& I still haven’t finished the novel. Yeah, no reason to reread that line – you read it correctly. I have been working on the novel for five years and I am still not finished.

Well, I have technically finished. I have been working on the corrections since 2015 when I finished the rough draft. But nope… still haven’t finished. So I made myself a new goal, that I am trying my hardest to keep – but I have moments where I can’t seem to keep my attention long enough to correct it.

I want to finish it completely by my 30th birthday. However, I honestly don’t see it happening, not because I don’t want to, but because it’s less than two months away and I’m still correcting chapter 11 out of… 24?

Am I up to twenty-three paragraphs yet?

I have faith, though, lots &&& lots of faith that I will finish the novel. When? I’m not 100% sure, but I know I will. Getting it published may be a different story. (Most companies, now, don’t take unsolicited manuscripts anymore.)

Anyhoo…

I’ll stop complaining now and go back to watching “Vampire Dairies” &&& playing Fallout Shelter on the PC. Yes, I do realize I should be editing (which is why most people know me as a procrastinator) but I’m not.

Go figure.

Need The Pickle.

I’m not much of a gambler, not because I don’t want to win, but because after I spend the money I feel horrible for spending money that could have went for something else; anything else, more important. This week I decided to swallow my pride and actually agree to “gamble” with money that was hard earned. What happened and what I learned is as follows.

Wednesday, January 6, I was digging through some of my mother’s stuff that she had in her purse (the coupons that expired in 1997 made me laugh out loud) and in it was two lottery tickets that hadn’t be bought. Basically what I think happened is that my mother went into a store, more than likely with my grandmother, and filled out two lottery tickets. Walked around the store for a couple minutes & then decided to not buy them for the fact that she probably didn’t have the extra ten dollars to do so. So instead, she shoved them into her purse which eventually fell to the bottom where she forgot they were and went on with her life. But then, I could be wrong.

From that point on that’s all I heard about. The Powerball is over 500 million. All day – every time I turned around – I joked about it at one point saying “If I believed in signs I would totally buy me a lottery ticket.” I was joking, of course, because I’m not a gambler.

By Thursday night the boyfriend & I decided to buy a ticket – nothing special just a couple numbers. It wasn’t anything to get in a fuss over but I will say this much, I can’t speak for everyone that gambles or who has bought a lottery ticket in the past, but for a brief solid minute when I was handed my ticket I was calm. Nothing bothered me and I felt free. I felt as if there was nothing that would bother me again and all my problems were taken care of. I felt a sense of being free. Quickly many things ran through my mind that I could get or help with. I pictured a house and a new car (need a bigger house & have had the same car for ten years), kitchen full of groceries, and new furniture. I pictured the looks on family’s faces when I handed the more money than they could even count in their heads. I pictured tipping a waitress 100$ just because it would make them smile.

For a single, sad, brief moment…

I slammed myself back into reality because logically I knew that I wouldn’t win & wouldn’t be a multibillionaire. That’s common sense but we did play. We bought us a ticket and spent 15$. I waited two days until the numbers came out and nothing. I didn’t match one number on five games.

It’s a saddening feeling when you realize that you’re not lucky enough to win something that could change you & everyone around you in an instant. Now I sit here and I wonder whether I want another ticket, or two, to try for the 1.3 billion dollars that it’s up to. The only thing I do know is what my grandfather once told me, “You will never win if you don’t play.” It’s the truest thing anyone has ever said. But I don’t know if I can afford to blow 15$ to 30$ again just so my numbers aren’t drawn.

Now I find myself wondering how other people feel. Do they sit around and mope for hours afterwards because their numbers sucked and didn’t win anything? Do they just toss the piece of paper into the trash and go about their day? Did they, for a single brief moment, think this could change my mind & I hope I win?

The only thing I know for sure is that life goes on and I have dreams and such. Will my dream make me a multibillionaire? Probably not – I’m not Stephen King, E.L James, or some other author that has sold 10,000,000 books, made 5,000,000 movies and receive 100,000,000 dollars. (That seems exaggerated.)

Meh…

On a totally new subject, I haven’t talked about it much lately because I haven’t done much on it (still editing) but the book is slowly coming together. However I came to a stop – sort of. Ever since I began writing this story I have decided that it was a sandwich. Beginning is the bread, middle is the bologna, cheese, mayo, pickles, and the ending is bread. For a while I have felt like something was missing that I couldn’t pin point not that I haven’t tried. Tonight I finally realized what was missing. Of course, though, I cannot go into great detail. We’ll just say that now that I have figured it out, I can fix it. Sadly, at the moment, I don’t have the answers && I’m pretty sure it’s going to add at least three chapters into the story. This may be complicated… But all I do know is if I want this book to be half way decent, I have to figure out this pickle. Without the pickle I have a whole in the whole story. I wouldn’t worry about it but I have mentioned some of it. I could just take it out, but then I have to take out a lot more && I feel like this needs to be in it.

I just don’t know – I just know there is way too much to think about &&& not enough time to figure it out. Okay, that’s a lie – I have all the time in the world unless I want to finish this book completely by the age of 30. Yes, I gave myself a two year gap. It’s not unreasonable to put a two year gap to finish a book that I’ve basically finished. All I have to do is finish the edit process – figure out my pickle – edit again, read it completely through, throw it away because I hate it – dig it out of the trash because I worked too hard on it, flick off the nasties that the trash left on it, notice all of the pencil marks throughout it, edit again, and then print the finished project. Then of course I’ll stare at it and explain to the boyfriend the 5,000,000 reasons why I should not try and attempt to publish this book – one of which being, this book sucks butt and no one is ever going to want to read it let alone buy it. He will of course tell me that I’m wrong, because that’s his job.

But then again, I’m still in the early stages of this whole deal – so what do I know?