Scratch Test

Even a casual reader of this blog can glean that I am somewhat preoccupied with food and cooking.  If it was a preoccupation with something less welcome, like a collection of my toenail clippings, people might accuse me of having a form of mental illness.  But everyone eats, and all cultures of the world embrace cooks; it is perhaps the most socially accepted form of madness.  Not just accepted, but condoned and even encouraged, a touch of madness is part of the job and everyone loves a crazy chef.

But I digress somewhat because this communique is not about food; I have had a small, but interesting, epiphany.  The words are important and perhaps, just maybe, I've been using the wrong ones.

This is how it started, I gave some completely unsolicited advice to someone I barely know about something I have no experience doing.  However, I stand by that advice and am poised to take it myself.  I recommended to this person that a simple change in wording would effect a much larger change in the action overall.  Theoretically, a changed word can resonate differently inside you, make you approach a familiar situation in a different and more organic way.

The word I am considering changing is actually two words: self published.  Those two little words can be the kiss of death for a rookie from Suttertown and make most people automatically look over the book that they really should be reading.  Personally, I do not understand the mindset because a self published author has to be more committed, more tenacious and more creative than someone who has an editor and publicist taking care of the details.

There are a lot of pretensions in the literary world, which is extremely weird to me because that is the exact same world that published Modelland by Tyra Banks.  I love Tyra, but come on, Modelland?

This is the part where I'm supposed to say that I can't change the system or I can't fight city hall.  My anarchist heart beats for precisely that, so it is time to change the vocabulary.  I'm going back to my roots, to what I know for sure works.  I am changing my word and maybe the established order along with it.

Out with a term that does not resonate with me, I will be a self published author no longer.  I am very pleased to introduce the new me; Cairn Rodrigues, Scratch Writer.  Everything is better when it's made from scratch, from cupcakes to novels, the craft and dedication are equal.

People are impressed when they are offered a handmade treat; in fact the flavor is improved when they are told that the bread was kneaded by hand.  I know how I feel when I offer up something to those happy people, a confidence and surety that comes from knowing I did it all from the ground up.

That is what The Last Prospector is, the whole series in fact, a delicious treat made up of the most unassuming ingredients that were crafted with great care by hand.

This is all a grand experiment of course, but I do love a grand - and wacky - scientific theory.  It's all that initiative, I suppose, that keeps me trying.

In Commemoration

We all know about the sickening events that took place last Friday in Connecticut and are all feeling the same turbulent emotions of shocked horror.  On this day, we are all stepping away from the normal business of our blogs to add our voices to the chorus of support for the families who have lost so much.

It is doubtful than anyone will ever be able to explain what led that young man to inflict that amount of pain on children, both to the deceased and the survivors whose lives have been altered forever.  My heart and deepest condolences go out to the families of the students and faculty of Sandy Hook School, I wish there was more I could do.

But I know from experience that there is only one thing that I can do, nothing can ease the pain that a parent feels when they have lost a child.  It is a struggle that each individual must face alone, but as a survivor of that same pain, I can offer only this.  Love more.

I know it seems hard when anger and retribution are so much easier to act upon, but loving more is the only answer to what ails our society.  Love your family and friends more, your neighbors and co-workers, love the people who push at us the hardest and love yourself.

It only takes a momentary kindness, a fleeting sign of generosity, to turn the tide from violence to peace.  If you would like to contribute to the Sandy Hook School Support Fund please visit their United Way page.

Sunny Side Up

It's been a good day; went grocery shopping this morning where I got a great deal on peanut butter chips, had lunch with my Dad (good Chinese and he paid) and spent some time wildlife watching in the back yard.  I live in a fairly typical and crowded neighborhood, but there is a thriving habitat around my personal space full of sparrows, squirrels and the occasional thieving raccoon.  I was very pleased to see that Little Chunk the squirrel had not been carried off by Sweetback the hawk as I had feared, but such incidents put the wild into life.

Over lunch, my father was talking about the Mayan doomsday calendar and that he feared there might be something to it, things do look bad after all.  I'll allow that, but things always look bad if you look in the right place.  I'm not saying bad things don't happen, of course they happen, bad things have always happened and will continue to do so, that is just how things are.  The current tragedies are no more tragic than the old ones though, they seem bigger to us because of their immediacy and the multitude of technologies that bring far flung disasters into the palms of our hands.

I am not here today to rail against technology or wring my hands about our species' mishandling of our own habitat.  I have but one important message to convey to anyone who is even remotely worried that everything is going to come crashing down around us by the end of this month.  You can take this right to the bank, because I am more sure of this than I'm sure there will be coffee with breakfast tomorrow.

Everything is fine, so get about living.

There you have it courageous readers, I know with absolute conviction that January 2013 will come as scheduled and everything will look pretty much the same.  Life as we know it will chug along and every single person on this planet will be awarded a gazillion more opportunities to live and live more.

You wonder how I know this?  How it is that I can so brazenly assert against wise and learned Mayan mathematicians based purely on the strength of my convictions?  Simple, the end is not nigh because I am not done yet.  In fact, I have only just started and will be damned if I let all my plans blow up purely on the power of dead men's notions.  Isn't is just too bad for the extinct Mayans, Edgar Cayce and Nostradamus that they didn't live long enough to see if they were right?  Perhaps, I say it's convenient and an alarming lack of accountability.

Your time is over and your words have no power over me, this is my time, mine and every other dreamer out there who has put sweat and faith into their dreams.  I have worked too hard to let it slip away and if I have to be the one person standing in the heart of the maelstrom pushing Satan back down with a kitchen stool, I will, because no entity in all of creation can stop me.

I will doggedly carve order out of the chaos with my chef's knife and shout the shrieking harpies into submission; I will curse the tornadoes and boil the flood waters with my rage if they dare to cross my path.  All it takes to win is belief that you will and the courage to keep fighting until you have, and I have enough belief for everyone.

So relax, because everything if fine.

Splitsville

I need a vacation.  While an all expenses paid excursion to a tropical paradise would not be turned down, it is not the kind of trip I'm going to take right now.  It's time to go back home to Solstice and check on all my friends, see if they missed me.

I have missed them, but I have stayed away from the series for months now because I've needed to focus on promoting The Last Prospector.  That cause is not being abandoned, do not fear, but I do need to finish editing the second book.

Here's the thing, books one and two were originally one REALLY LONG book.  Two months of daily writing had earned me nearly 900 pages of story, all of which needed to be there.  Once I finally realized the actual size my debut novel would be, I panicked because that was a lot of commitment on the part of a reader for a new author.

Then came the agonizing decision to split the book in half, I fussed and fretted for many days because there didn't seem to be a natural break anywhere in the middle.  After a great deal of thought and much trial and error, I did find that break but it needed to bolstered a bit.  I added some chapters and, in the end, was much happier with the final product because this first book is now all about Prospector.

However, most people in my circle know about the book splitting thing, they know that it is pretty much ready to go and have been asking about it more and more lately.  Which I'm taking as a very good sign, by the way, they read the first one and want more.  More is one of my favorite words, so how can I deny them?

So far, each new book in the series starts just before the ending of the previous book, so Travellers & Tramps picks up right after Amlyn Logialle finds the orange baby.  The world of Solstice really opens up in the second installment; we meet the caravaners and one of my favorite characters, Billo Karn.  Billo was named for my all time favorite teacher in college but looks suspiciously like David Tennant, mostly because I think David Tennant would look AMAZING with bright blue hair.

Book two is much more about Soleila and Awnyx, but Prospector and Tonyo are still prominent.  They have a road to build and Prospector has a destiny to meet; perhaps it is at the end of that road.  No spoilers here friends, you'll have to wait and see.  Travellers & Tramps has more adventure, more action, than The Last Prospector and some heart strings will be tugged, but it's a great story that I can't wait for everyone to read.

Especially my mother in law, she is gonna love this.

Vision Statement

Good news!  The big board is doing its thing and a second directive has been added to the Marketing Plan page.  More research on the overall topic is still needed, but my first task has already been laid out;  a vision statement needs to be conceived and written.  I certainly like the sound of it, a formal declaration of my 'brand', where I see it going and a general nod to how I'm going to get there all in one tidy statement.

Vision is probably the most powerful tool each person has, but also the least used.  Think about it though, how often does anything of substance get done or get created unless at least one person has seen it thusly inside their own head first?  Vision is not what our eyes show us, it is what we see in our minds; it is something that is conjured up by all the senses and made a reality by the power of will.

I've always been a big believer and practitioner of visualization, mostly about food until a year ago, but I am generally inclined towards less conventional schools of thought.  Before I began writing The Last Prospector, I spent a month just thinking about it, seeing it in my head and building the world of Solstice bit by bit.  I conjured up the smell of the grassy meadows of Auld Andrew's Hearth and the exact shade of blue water in Petra Lake.  By the time I sat down to write, Solstice was as real to me as my own home and the story flowed out of me without hesitation.

Visualization takes practice and concentration, but the rewards are immeasurable.  If you are wanting to try it, click here for a simple exercise to aid in attracting love into your life.  The third posting on that page is a primer for basic visualization, so I urge you to at least look.

Ok, so I've got the vision and all I need now is the statement.  Things get a little trickier here, because the words are important you see.  First problem is that I'm not at all sure what my 'brand' is, I know that's the big thing these days, branding.  Tyra can't shut up about it on Top Model, so it must be important.  I've been auditioning various words and phrases in my head, like 'Unexpected', 'Quality Entertainment' and 'Gimme Candy'.  I suppose that last one is more my personal brand than a professional one though.

I feel too intertwined with the Song of Solstice to be able to look at it objectively and find its defining word or phrase, its brand.  If any of you has even the tiniest suggestion, please pass it on because I need to get this done.

Then again....now that I think about it a bit more...what if I already do know my phrase??

Seriously though, this did just come to me as I wrote this.  The Song of Solstice has a brand and it is...
Travellers Welcome!

DIY

I'm the do-it-yourself type of person, always have been, it's the reason I started cooking very young and the reason I self published a book.  If you want something done 'right', i.e. in a way that pleases you, then roll up your sleeves and get going.  I have to cook so much only because my palate demands great flavors, it's a call to action that cannot be ignored and life is better spent in the having, not the wanting.

Of course, it would seem very sage and wise of me to say otherwise, but screw that, having your heart's desire is much more satisfying than mere desire alone.  The Last Prospector, and the entire Solstice series, was born from my dissatisfaction with another story.  That story had left my entertainment appetite unsatisfied - and promising any of my appetites greatness without delivering ignites my caustic anger pretty easily these days.  That dumb book had the gall to leave me wanting, it pissed me off royally so I decided to do it my own damn self.

So, I did.  Please read The Last Prospector available at Amazon.com.

Anyway, books are written and a story is being told.  The new, and decidedly less fun, story is selling the book to millions of people who have never heard of me.  My last post found me feeling a bit beaten and lost, it's my goal with this blog to chart my entire journey with the highs and lows, last Friday was definitely a low.

I've been flailing for weeks now, lost in a maze of uncertainty without any clear direction or plan of action.  This is most unlike me, I am an organized lady and borderline compulsive planner.  It was time for a system, a new system that was bigger than a notebook, grander in scale while still being economical.  Over the weekend DIY Clyde MacGyvered the big board with some crappy thin sheets of cork bolstered by flattened cardboard boxes and duct tape.  Pretty sweet, I know.

This is my first target, you can tell by the bedazzling that I mean business.  The goal is to get 5,000 copies into reader's hands by June 2013.  Please note that I did not specify 5,000 book sales, not that it wouldn't be great, but you have to give to get in this world.  To that end, I've been giving away books to known readers and will be running the occasional book giveaway on this blog once I figure out how.  So the target is 5,000 people reading The Last Prospector, by hook or by crook.

The board is in its first, rough stages of organization.  There are color coded categories for blogging, word of mouth and this important bit of business...

Writing a marketing plan is the first suggestion in virtually everything I have read so far on the topic of selling a book.  So far, my eyes have leapt eagerly away from that purely because it is yet another thing I know nothing about and will have to learn.  I can ignore it no longer now, it's on the big board.  Please note the one directive under the heading, 'nuff said.

I could hire someone to make that plan of course, I could have paid people to format the book, create the cover or even make this blog.  There's a team available for every step in this process and I wish them all well because we can't afford them.  Team Carrie & Clyde, the DIY wonder couple are on the job.

The Distance

Was it ever so evil, creep like ivy
Toe hold on the stronger half of nature's dichotomy
Beating back a path through nothing more than pure insistence
Until here becomes the distance

That is from a lovely song by the Indigo Girls called 'Leeds' and it has been looping on my internal soundtrack all morning.  All I can see is distance today because my fearful voices have been doing most of the talking so far.  They say very demoralizing things, but I can't just ignore them out of hand because they occasionally make valid points and I try not to lie to myself overly much.

We all have an assortment of fearful voices, for many people it's the only voice, and they are constantly telling us that we are unworthy, untalented, unlovable and foolish.  Today my persistent fear that my book is not at all good is shouting down all my feeble arguments to the contrary.  I know I'm not alone, anyone who creates something that depends on the affection of strangers to succeed fears that their product will be found unworthy.

That fear motivates some to improve their offering, but it pushes most into abandoning their creation altogether.  I have been shouting down that fearful voice since the very first sentence in The Last Prospector, the one that kept skeptically asking why I thought this was useful expenditure of my time.  It hounds me still, whispering that I am just a joke trying to pass off some scibblings as literature, that I have lofty pretensions that my talents cannot support.

Today it is very difficult not to listen, I have received almost no feedback from the people who have read The Last Prospector and that silence is louder than my fearful voice.  Is it good?  Is it bad?  Or worse, is it boring?  I don't know and that ignorance is a weight that is getting heavier to support every day.

This is not like cooking, my one native marketable skill.  I've always known how to cook, that I can cook better than most and am extremely critical of my own food.  But there's never been a voice telling me that I can't cook, that my flavors are dull or that everyone else is better at it than me.  Even my culinary disasters, which are extensive, never brought out that fear.  I just embraced those disasters as valuable learning experiences and did better next time.

If I had written a book about food or cooking, I most likely would not be suffering from too many fearful voices.  The kitchen is my safe place, any kitchen, it's where I run when things become difficult.  In fact, I have left this post three times so far to go and tend to culinary projects instead of fully confronting this obstacle.

Just writing about these fears is a breakthrough, I tend to project an air of confidence and do not like others to see the true depth of my well of self-doubt.  It's not fraudulent confidence, for the most part, I grew up having to rely on me, to give myself pep talks and tell myself that I am capable of greatness and it's all worked pretty well.

So I don't listen exclusively to my fearful voices, there are loving voices too, adventurous voices and exuberant ones that deserve equal time.  The good voices are what keep me going, keep me sending queries to bloggers despite the fact that I haven't received one single reply of any kind yet and keep me from retreating.

But today, all I see is the nothing, the distance that I still have to travel, as I fight the impulse to go back into the kitchen.