Writaholic Paradise

Say you're Hemmingway.
Money. Fame. Published Author.
Bully. Dictator. King or Queen of all you survey.

Got it?
Whatcha gonna do with it? Make your family keep their traps shut until noon so you can write like Earnest did?

My fantasy? A huge field of green. A hut in the center. One road through the field down which my family comes thrice a day to bring me food, cheer, and their good tidings. A couple of kisses for the kids, a grope from the hubster, and the dustless departure of a group of humans whose happiness I made possible.

Then I take a dose of chocolate, a sip of an icy beverage in which the ice has not dared to sweat, let alone melt. I turn back to my desk to find my creation waiting patiently, prepared to jump back into the sky and take wing as soon as our eyes meet.

Oh, the power and joy in my arm when it pounces from me, into space! Into the world! And it will never be nothing again!

This.
This is what my distractions steal from me.

And you? Whatcha got hiding in that back corner of your mind? Make a wish...or three. We'll all keep your secret.

Secret Abbreviation!

On Twitter, when I think I've tweeted something that makes me laugh aloud, I follow with OMHIF. Only YOU will know it means OH MY HELL I'M FUNNY.

See? Now you have to follow me on Twitter so you can watch for it. @LesliMuirLytle

You can't help yourself, can you? You may even start your Twitter account just so you can follow me. Trust me, it's easy, and I'm worth it. Especailly if there is a chance I look like this========>

OMHIF!

And God said: DO NOT DISTURB!

We are so together in our solitude, aren't we?

We are all on that same road to publication, yet no two vehicles are alike. Some fly down the road in a convertible, smiling and waving and sure they're headed in the right direction, though it's hard to see with all that hair whipping in their faces.

Some roll their windows up tight and avoid eye contact with anyone they pass or anyone who passes them.

Some walk and talk and encourage others. Some take their time to help lost writers plot a course on their map, then strike out again, only to stop and help yet another writer because they cannot possibly ignore the need.

And sometimes, when the road is dark, we circle our wagons and have a giggle around a campfire, forgetting who is driving what, bonding as travelers, not writers.

But we are alone. In the throngs of authors and dreamers shuffling from one writer's workshop to the next, sitting on top of each other in seats meant for children, we are...alone. Wherever it is we end up--indie pubbing, traditional pubbing, or living in one of the six big castles in New York--we get there alone. Those who squee for us, throw terrific launch parties for us, or buy us cheesecake for every rejection, stand beside us, of course. But when we arrive or fail to arrive, we are alone.

In a library full of writers, we write alone. We edit alone. We meet our characters alone. We are rejected or loved depending on how hard we worked in solitude. It is the ultimate test.

I wonder, when God created, if he closed himself off, for a time, to come up with something brilliant. I wonder what the sign said--the one he hung on his door.

STAND UP AND BE COUNTED

A. So when you write--and you must write--where do you write?
Do you write in a controlled unimaginative space--either to encourage your creativity to fight for its life, or to keep those creative moments pure?
Or do you need to pull from the energy of the space--a creatively designed room, the great outdoors, or public, manic places?

B. Sterile or messy?
Is your writing controlled or chaotic? Do you end each writing session with something presentable, or is it presentable only two minutes before it must be shipped off somewhere?

C. Lastly, are you making
a sculpture,
a piece of music, or
a pizza?

Hi. I'm Lesli. I'm a chocoholic.
I write in a controlled, sterile space. I write chaotic pizza.

Too Old for YA?

It's time someone discussed this non-rationally.

I want to know what you think. Do you prefer YA books written by people in their 20's? 30's? 40's? Do you see a trend in your favorite books? Or is it just the book you see?

I'm 46. There. I'm out.
But I'm finding the YA and middle grade genres are crackling out of my fingertips--with lightening, not because my fingers are crumbling. It's probably because of my adolescent-stuck brain or the fact that I've raised four boys and a diva and therefore have plenty of content. But the question remains, will young readers want books written by somebody's grandma, or will they give a rat's butt?

What about you? Peek at bios much? Of course YOU do. But do you suppose the young readers do? POST A COMMENT AND YOU WIN...NOTHING

Agent Soup

Most of you know I have an agent. She's Cori Deyoe of 3 Seas Literary. If you can find an agent who is as perfect for you as Cori is for me, marry her--ish.

Here are the basics you want in that marriage:
Agent should love the author's writing.
Agent should love the author's writing so much that said agent is determined to find that author a home for all that author's sellable work.
Phone calls between author and agent should leave both parties higher than kites about said author's career.

That's it from where I stand. Just three things. Love, love, and a pie in the sky. I'm just waiting on that pie to fall from said sky and land cherry-side up on my desk...

HUNGER GAMES MANIA--MY MANIA

First of all, read Hunger Games. If you're not a fan of Young Adult Fiction, I don't care. If you're a writer, you should read Hunger Games. Period. There is no other series I can think of that will give you such an education on pacing, turning points, holding on to your butts, etc., etc.

But this is what HG has done for me.
I am pumped, like I have never been pumped before, to write a great, mind-blowing book. I realized that my version of outside-the-box is more like a paranoid/security-addicted/keep the box in sight at all times version of creativity. But no more.

In fact, I think we should be writing books that only loosely resemble books, loosely qualify as novels. Let's write it all in blood on the walls--wait, that's been done. Let's...do SOMETHING without rules. Come on. You crazies know who you are. Let's fly over the cookoo's nest, baby.

I know this seems like every other rant I've ever been on, but it's not. In fact, this is the first time I've been afraid of just how crazy I might get. Reserve a rubber room for me somewhere, just in case.

Keefer Boone Secret from Book 1, Chapter 12

My first middle-grade series is about a lad named Keefer Boone who is more afraid of getting emarrassed than he is of death. But when he gets Death's attention, he just may change his priorities.

Note to others: when you see a cloaked figure stalking around the workroom before hours, don't go banging on the window!

All for now. Invisible fish are waiting to be written.

Time for the "Life Is Short" Speech!

Yo.

Life is short.

One of my favorite lines, for obvious reasons, is from Shawshank Redemption.

"Either get busy livin', or get busy dyin'."

You think you'll still be around next year?
What if you're not?

Life is short.

Yo.

The New Blog is a Short Blog

Okay, so it won't be 140 characters or less, but the blog posts, from now on, will be short and sweet. I so swear.

Here it is.

If you have a problem surfing blogs instead of writing your brilliant novels, then put a note on your monitor that reads:

"What are you looking for? It's not there. Do something else."

Acknowledge that what you're really hoping for is an email from an agent or editor. If it's not there, go back to making sellable pies (good books). People are starving out there!