When We Were Six

My six year old friend

My six-year-old friend Lauren

One of the most interesting people I know is six years old. I don’t mean interesting in the “oh she’s a fun kid” sense. I know plenty of kids (my friends and family were kind enough to have them so I didn’t have to) and they are all fun and interesting in their own ways, but my six-year-old friend Lauren is interesting to me in the way adults are interesting to me.

Six years does not seem like a lot of time to become an interesting person, does it? Especially considering that almost half of those years are spent learning how to walk, talk, eat with cutlery, and not poop in one’s pants. Even so, in that very short time, Lauren has become a person I could watch and listen to all day.

Ally hugging

Ally being huggable

This does not mean the other kids I know are chopped liver. As mentioned, lots of my friends and family have kids I like and enjoy spending time with. Lauren’s sister, Ally, for example, is a ball of raw energy—a considerate, friendly, and entertaining ball of energy. On my latest visit she told me that I was one of her very good friends and I was also a funny friend. She’s the kind of kid you just want to hug.

But Lauren is different.

I might even say “weird” but only in the very best sense of the word.

Everyone has to die some time. ~ Lauren on the subject of death.

For starters, Lauren is smart beyond her mere six years. She has a thought process that often seems baffling but, when examined, is deeply rooted in logic. And yet, in contrast, she is also off-the-wall creative. She invents words. In fact, she does this so often that her family has coined a phrase for her language: “Ren words”.

The best part of this Ren language is that even though words are made up, they feel right. Describing an unpleasant individual to me, Lauren said they were “ratzy”.

Ratzy. I am going to steal that word. It’s beautiful.

My dad’s a scientist and you’re an imaginer. ~ Lauren explaining my job title.

Lauren explains penguins

Lauren explains the many different dialects of penguins

To spend a day with Lauren is to be bombarded with the unexpected. She may decide to explain plate tectonics to you, she may choose not to talk to you at all (no matter how many questions you ask), she may demand you play “horse” with her, or she may happily disappear into her own world for hours at a time, jabbering away in a thick southern drawl for no apparent reason. But no matter what she does, she’s doing it because she wants to do it, not because it’s cool and not because it makes the grown-ups or the other kids happy.

Lauren is that rare soul who knows her own mind and does not care what anyone else thinks about the things she likes.

Lauren explains plate tectonics

Lauren explains plate tectonics

This makes me jealous.

Lauren defies stereotypes. Yes, she has Barbies, dolls, and other typical “girl” stuff but she shows equal affection for her train set, stuffed scorpion, and rock collection. About rocks, bugs, and the natural world, she is passionate. She can identify the coat patterns of the big cats and knows the scientific name for a rock that I would call a “pretty crystal-type thingie”.

What else? Her innate sense of justice, tell-it-like-it-is bluntness, complete disregard for flattery or other obvious tactics of persuasion—there are so many traits this mini-human possesses that most of us spend a lifetime trying to cultivate, often with little or no success.

I just didn’t like the way he was behaving. ~ Lauren explaining why she “roared” at a boy known for chasing girls on the school playground.

I want the world to have more Laurens. I want more people to believe in themselves and care less about popularity. I want more people to stand up to bullies, even if they aren’t the ones being bullied. I want more girls to love bugs and rocks and plate tectonics and to not be ashamed of that. I want curiosity to trump social niceness. I want scorpions and spiders to be appreciated as much as kittens and puppies. I want to let creative people get lost in their own worlds whenever possible. I want people to have fun with language.

Speaking of which, here’s how Lauren describes plate tectonics…

The wisdom of Lauren

Lava bumps. Yeah, I’m gonna steal that, too.

Until next week, I hope this finds you healthy, happy, and lovin’ life!

The Princess

Posted in Family & Children, Friends, Women's Issues | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

Winter Fashion Edition – 5 Great Looks for the Stylish Writer!

How can I look as amazing as you?

This is the one question I imagine other writers are too nervous to ask me.

I don’t like to brag about my personal style but it occurred to me recently that I actually have one and I owe it to the writing community and the world to share my secrets. Sure, I’m no Gail Carriger, that retro fashion icon of the literary world. (The only time I wear gloves and a hat is when I’m fending off frostbite). Likewise, on a flight, dapper chap and author Alistair Kimble would ask to be moved to economy if he found himself seated next to me in business class. No, my style is my own, rooted in a deep and profound dislike of shopping, and driven by a desire to never iron anything.

I mean never. NEVER.

Writers, what I’m about to show you is one outfit versatile enough to take you from morning to night and back to morning again! Indoors or outdoors, this simple yet elegant ensemble screams I AM A WRITER! OH GOD HELP ME, I AM A WRITER! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!

So, let’s start with the basic look, shall we?

fashion for writers

Kristene Perron Winter Collection 2013

Nothing says “I’m ready to sit in one place for eight hours watching my Twitter feed making words appear on a screen and eating too much chocolate” like fleece and cotton!

What I like about this look is that I can literally roll out of bed and I’m ready to go!

Another important feature is the logo on the t-shirt. First, it has words so, clearly, I can read. It also tells the world something about me–in this case, my love for cupcakes. This is called “branding”.

Finally, the cotton is breathable. An important consideration when you wear the same clothes for 48 consecutive hours.

Shirt: David and Goliath

Pants: WalMart

Thesaurus: Jarvis Elementary School Library Assistant Award

Now, I know what you’re thinking. But Kristene, what if I need to stand up and go outside to buy more chocolate?

Ready for a quick dash to Safeway!Don’t worry, imaginary writer person, I’ve got you covered!

Though, sadly, chocolate is not self-generating, that mad dash across Front Street to Safeway where you hope you won’t run into anyone you know but you probably will because you live in a town with a population of only 10,000 people doesn’t need to be a chore.

With the simple addition of a matching puffy coat and playful toque, those Safeway shoppers will think, Wow, she really knows how to not get frostbite! She’s smart! I bet she’s a writer!

Coat: WalMart (What? We don’t have a lot of choices here!)

Toque: Mark’s Work Wearhouse

Book: Guilt-induced purchase at the 2008 Surrey International Writer’s Conference.

But what about writers who have other jobs? Jobs that involve speaking at other humans and pretending that you really enjoy graphs and wouldn’t rather be home watching episodes of Dr. Who?

Well, this is where we learn about the magic of accessories!

fashion for the officeIf comic books have taught us anything, it’s that super heroes, like writers, need a secret identity and this is best achieved through the clever use of glasses.

Pick up a pair of specs and unleash your inner Clark Kent!

Glasses: Warby Parker

Accessories can also transform this no-nonsense business look to a flirty and fun evening ensemble.

fashion and style for writersIt only takes a festive scarf and 10 to 24 ounces of alcohol to turn any outfit into a chic party dress.

You’ll be the talk of the office holiday party!

“Who is that person? Did Phil invite her? She smells like old chocolate and tears.”

Scarf: Salvation Army

Gin: Liquor store next to Safeway

Of course, no fashion blog post would be complete without the worst case scenario outfit. For example, you’re sitting on your ugly floral couch and suddenly find yourself sucked into a space time vortex thingy and BAM…you’re in the middle of a battle with shields and arrows and things exploding!

Fashion emergency? I think not.

Kristene Perron warrior writer

Look out Glen! They’re coming to take our chocolate!

The pen is mightier than the sword? Not when you’re fighting space time vortex thingy warriors with your sidekick, Glen the Bored Viking-ish Person, at your side it ain’t!

YOU CAN TAKE AWAY MY SEMICOLONS BUT YOU CAN’T TAKE AWAY MY FREEDOM!!!

Club and helmet: *indecipherable mumbling*

I hope you have enjoyed this little peek behind the curtains at my fashion awesomeness. Remember to always ask these three critical questions when choosing your writer’s wardrobe:

1. Will too many people mistake me for a hobo?

2. How easily does vomit wash out of this fabric?

3. Does the store’s return policy include unintentional damage due to space time vortex thingy travel?

Until next week, I hope this finds you healthy, happy, lovin’ life and looking faaaaahhhbulous!

Kristene

Posted in Entertainment, Humour and satire, On Scribbling | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Calling All History Nerds!

Calling history buffsI’m putting out a call for help with research for my next novel. This one will be just little ol’ me at the helm, though Josh has already been oodles of help and I’m sure I’ll be tapping him on the shoulder for help now and then all the time.

The story is still fairly nebulous in my cranium but historical events will play a big role.  SO! Here’s what I need from you, dear Nutters…

1. Quirky historical events. The weirder the better. For example, did you know the the first bomb dropped on Germany in World War II killed the only elephant at the Berlin Zoo? Quirky, right?

2. Historical events that most of us “get wrong”. We all know how famous events/people/quotes get smoothed over or embellished over time, I’m looking for the real stories behind the one we all know. For example: Based on the known facts, it is highly unlikely Marie Antoinette ever said, “Let them eat cake!” (Thanks, Josh!)

The doors are wide open on this so feel free to bombard me! Anywhere or anywhen, it’s all good. You can leave your comments here or email me at clubfredbaja[at]gmail dot com. I plan to acknowledge everyone who helped, so if you’d like a mention make sure I know your name.

Many, many thanks in advance!

Kristene

Posted in Entertainment, Hobbies, On Scribbling | 4 Comments

Twanxiety

I’m going to start this with two true facts:

Fact #1 – I’m a ball of confidence, wrapped in a layer of protective Kevlar, whose self-belief has been tested over and over and has always passed with flying colours.

Fact #2 – I am a quivering mess of self-doubt who has spent her life trying to prove she’s worthy but ultimately believes she’s a giant loser.

Now that you know the truth(s) about me, I’m going to talk about Twitter.

Just over a year ago, the extent of my social media interaction was the occasional blurb on Facebook to keep in touch with my young and much-cooler-than-me nephews. I had always either been too busy playing outside, working, writing, and/or living in some remote outpost with expensive dial-up internet to waste time tweeting or pinning or whatever verb is used for Facebook. Facing?

Two events changed my social e-life. First, I became the chair of the Kootenay Literary Competition and was determined to spread the word of our event far and wide. Well, far and wide across the Kootenays. Second, Josh and I published our first novel. I jumped into Twitter—that previously uncharted No Mans Land—with both feet.

One year and over 4000 tweets later I love Twitter (see Fact #1), and I hate Twitter (see Fact #2).

At first, I made all the Twitter newbie mistakes but thankfully I had the very talented Deryn Collier to show me the error of my ways. She pointed me to Molly Greene’s How To Twitter: Tips For Newbies (thanks, Molly!) and gave me some pointers of her own (thanks, Deryn!).

It didn’t take me long to figure out that Twitter was not the Marketing Disneyland I’d been led to believe. But that was okay because along the way I discovered some quirky characters, a few new (to me) authors with highly-digestible books, lots of links to relevant articles and blogs, a means to chat with e-friends, and a convenient spot for my five minute brain breaks whilst scribbling. Win, win, and winny-win!

Problem.

I’m still very much an in-person kind of gal. I can hold my own on an Internet forum and usually do an adequate job of conveying my thoughts clearly, but I like body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice when I converse. When it comes to discussion, I’m at my best when I can see and hear, in real time, how my words are working, or not working. I’ve seen how easily text can be misinterpreted, even with the use of  🙂  😦  😛 —it’s happened to me. Sometimes, the misinterpretations can be disastrous and feelings can be inadvertently trampled.

Now, pare your text down to 140 characters. The chances for being misunderstood rise exponentially.

Now, toss in a good dose of vagueness. What are the rules of social interaction here? When can I comment in a conversation and when can I not? If I tweet to someone who is not following me and they don’t reply or acknowledge me, does that mean “piss off” or “you’re too much of a peon for me to waste words on” or “I’m glad you replied and now I’m not going to answer you because it makes me look popular”?  I don’t know.

In real life, I will talk to anyone. ANYONE. I’ve hung out with hundreds of fascinating and talented people, some of whom I count among my close friends, so you have to be pretty damned amazing to intimidate me socially. Not to mention that I’ve seen a decent sized chunk of the world and know that there are far, far more important things to worry about in life than whether or not my social strata level is acceptable enough for you to allow me to speak words at you.

But on Twitter?

The moment that screen opens and I see my feed, I’m back in highschool, and I am NOT sitting at the cool kids table. Suddenly I question whether I can tweet to someone who is one of the cool kids and, if I do, I immediately imagine the beautiful, popular people snickering behind my back.

The two sides of me go to war. Confident Kevlar Kristene throws me into the lockers and shouts at me to quit being such a wuss. “BE YOUR FEARLESS SELF!” Quivering Self-Doubt Kristene tugs on my sleeve and begs me not to humiliate her. The result? Tweets are written, tweets are deleted, tweets are written, tweets are deleted, and so on, and so on, and so on. I could probably cut my time on Twitter in half if I just knew what I could and could not say to certain people without looking like a twonk.

I want to explain myself to these strangers. I want to tell them that I just want to talk, I’m not trying to suck up or ride on their coat tails. I don’t want them to read my books or promote me. I’m not some weirdo stalker, I just like talking to people and if I think you’re interesting or funny I’ll want to talk to you. I’m married and happily so—meaning I’m not looking for a hook up and I am not flirting. I like to promote people who I think are cool, so when I retweet something about your book, or website, or podcast, or whatever, it’s genuine and not a lame attempt to get you to thank me or like me. If I tweet something about myself—some of the stunts I’ve done or places I’ve traveled—I’m not bragging, just trying to spark conversation.

I’m a nice person. Really.

See all that above? Just typing that makes me feel dirty and awkward because those are things I never, ever have to explain when I meet people face to face.  In real life, people “get” all that from non-verbal cues. Not on Twitter.

Twitter is giving me Social Twanxiety, and I do not like it one bit.

I tried being a “persona”. I suck at being a persona. I hate being a persona. I’m smart enough to know not every part of me or my life is suitable for public consumption but I’m also very much a WYSIWYG type of person, and I don’t see the need to change that just to fit in with the cool kids.

high five fail

What? I…wait. No. Sorry…

If I were giving advice on this to a friend, I’d tell them not to worry; it’s probably not as bad as they think. But I suck at taking my own advice and I’ve offered too many awkward and/or unrequited Twitter high fives to believe it’s all in my head.

So, in the words of the Clash: Should I stay or should I go?

I don’t know. Perhaps I simply need to back off a bit or maybe my upcoming three month trek to Baja—where I will not have daily access to the interwebz—will be my Zoloft.

I suspect I am not alone with my Twanxiety. If Confident Kevlar Kristene can be shaken by Twitter, my guess is that lots of other Tweeps with less Kevlar-ness find it a daunting place to share and interact. If you are one of the Twanxious, you’re not alone. For you, I’m going to throw caution to the rabid voles outside my house and list some Twitter-relevant information about me and what you can expect if you choose to follow me or interact with me there:

1. I will follow just about anyone who follows me. I really don’t care all that much about the numbers.

2. If I don’t follow you back, it’s probably because I’ve visited your profile page and it is full of self-promotion, mass retweets, hate-speak, or a never-ending list of quotes. (Do read Molly Greene’s tips, they are gold).

3. I try to acknowledge everyone who interacts with me (in a non-spammy way), on Twitter.

4. If you mention me in a tweet, and I don’t reply or favourite (yes, I spell it with a U, deal with it!) your tweet, please be assured it’s not you, it’s me. I’m either crazy busy or feel bad that I can’t come up with a sufficiently clever response.

5. I DON’T CARE WHO YOU ARE. Your social status means nothing to me, so go ahead and tweet away. I’m here to talk, not to rank you. Promise.

6. I swear occasionally. Sorry.

7. I am open about my politics and beliefs. I strive not to be pushy but I will sometimes share my thoughts about subjects closest to my heart. Be warned, topics may include: atheism (I am one), left-leaning politics (born and raised on the west coast of Canada, need I say more?), eco stuff but especially sustainable fishing (FOR!) and captive marine mammals (AGAINST!), feminism (yep, I fly the female flag), and animal welfare (I foster kittens for the SPCA – spay and neuter your pets!)

8. I go walkabout sometimes, in places without internet. So if I don’t reply to a non-spammy DM or a question, I may be off avoiding rattlesnake attacks somewhere.

9. I am an author and sometimes I tweet to promote my work or my blog posts. These tweets are infrequent, I try to make them entertaining, and I will never DM you with a sales pitch.

10. I tweet many photos of cats. No one else on the internet shares photos of cats, so I thought I’d be unique.

11. I was a professional stunt performer for film and television for ten years, just as my profile states. But if you go looking for me on IMDB to see if I’m a big fat liar please search under Kristene Kenward. About one quarter of my credits are listed there and my first name is frequently misspelled.

12. I live in Nelson, BC, Canada, which is one of the coolest places in the world. If you visit Nelson, BC, Canada, and you are not a serial killer, I’ll meet you at Oso Negro for a coffee.

13. This is a VERY SMALL sample of some people who are awesome at Twitter. If you’re new and looking for people to follow this list is a good start.  (Again, this is a very small sample. Sorry to the awesome tweeps I’ve missed): Megan McLeod, Deryn Collier, Angie Abdou, Cory Doctorow, Jenny Splitter, Sam Sykes, Sandra Wickham, Joanna Penn, Ellen Datlow, Chuck Wendig, Jennifer Ellis, Molly Greene, Robert Bennett, Andy Rogers, Robin Spano, Liana Brooks, Griffin Barber, Dr Chris Kellog, Nicole Feldringer, Howard Tayler, Alistair Kimble.

Also, also, you need to follow SF Canada Writers. Because I said so and because Canadian SF/F! Yay!

14. I am no longer the chair of the Kootenay Literary Competition but if you live in the Kootenays and you love to write you should totally enter!

15. I say sorry a lot. I’m Canadian that way. Sorry.

There, guts spilled. My Twanxiety feels better already. Also, here is a photo of a cat. You’re welcome!

Funny cat photo

Until next time, I hope this finds you healthy, happy & lovin’ life!

Kristene

Posted in Computers and Internet, Entertainment | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

The Culture of Compassion

Compassion for those less fortunateGrowing up, there was one horror story told by my family that would haunt me into adulthood. It has to do with the US medical system and it goes like this…

On a trip across the border, my Aunt B and her husband were struck head-on by a drunk driver. This was long before airbags and mandatory seatbelts. My Aunt B was injured, as was the drunk driver. My uncle, who was driving, was killed.

When the ambulance arrived, they loaded Aunt B in the back, right beside the drunk driver who had just killed her husband. I probably don’t need to tell you how awful that must have been, but those were different times. After a brief stay in the hospital, Aunt B was released and handed a shockingly huge bill.

Any bill would have been shocking. In Canada, we don’t pay anything when we’re treated in a hospital. But, according to the story I was told, the charges for Aunt B’s treatments were excessive.

And here’s the part that horrified young me: Among the detailed list of charges, Aunt B was expected to pay for bobby pins used to keep her hair out of her eyes in the ambulance and the tissues she was given to dry her tears as she wept for her dead husband.

What kind of monsters would make people pay for their grief?

This is the image of Americans that was engraved on my consciousness as a young adult. Sure, they looked like us and spoke like us (mostly), but they were a people without simple human compassion. People who put a price on kindness.

Of course I now know that is not true.

Mostly.

For years now I have watched the healthcare battle to the south of us with great interest. I have read and listened to arguments for and against universal health care, sometimes rolling my eyes at the gross inaccuracies and outright lies put forth about the Canadian health care system. (No, we do not have “Death Squads” or “Death Panels” or death anything, actually). I have had numerous conversations with Americans on both sides of this issue and, to be fair, everyone has legitimate concerns.

I am in favour of universal health care in the abstract. I grew up with this system and despite its many flaws (oh yes, there are flaws a-plenty), I firmly believe that in a wealthy first world nation we should consider quality health care a basic human right.

I also have the luxury of this belief because my country began instituting universal health care back in the 1940’s, to a population that was barely above 12 million people, in a relatively healthy economy. Easy peasy doctor squeezy!

To try and convert a country of over 300 million people to universal health care? With big pharma and insurance companies fighting you every step of the way? With the mountains of misinformation and propaganda floating around out there? With the ineffective, slow, wasteful clusterf@#&k that constitutes federal government? In a floundering economy and a country deeply in debt? Are you kidding me?

Now THAT is a horror story. Obama must be some brave or some crazy to have even started that conversation. Possibly both.

So, to those opposed to universal health care for technical or bureaucratic reasons, I get it. I really get it and I sympathize.

There are other reasons for opposition that I comprehend. Josh and I often discuss the cultural differences between The People’s Republic of Canada and ‘Merica. I find his observations fairly objective and politically unbiased. At my urging, he shared some his thoughts on the health care issue. Here’s a snippet:

The heart of American opposition to the system is rooted in two things, from my observation:

The simplest thing is a reflexive opposition to anything that smacks of socialism/communism. Like most mythological structures, there is a root in reality to this—our system has worked best by means of incrementalism, and it has been a commonly-used political tactic. However, as there are no socialists in any form of power in this country, it’s also a silly notion.

The more reasonable fear has to do with the demonstrable inefficiency we see in government at all levels that we deal with it. We watch our government be continually behind the curve, slow, rude, and unresponsive. So the prospect of handing over health care to that government whiffs of disaster. Add to that the government having the say in how treatment is allocated is what gives rise to fears of death panels and the like. We don’t trust our government very far, and for some well-earned reasons.

This also makes sense and is consistent with what I’ve observed of American culture in my lifetime.

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m trying to make it clear that I understand and agree with all the logical arguments against implementing universal health care.

Now I’m going to talk about the argument I don’t agree with and the one that always brings me back to the childhood horror story of Aunt B. This argument, which I have seen and heard in numerous places, is best summarized as: “Why should I spend my hard-earned money to take care of someone who is too lazy or stupid to take care of themselves?”

This is where I see the biggest cultural divide between our two nations.

My health care is universal but it is not free. On an individual level, Canadians pay for healthcare through a combination of tax dollars and a small monthly fee. I know that my tax dollars go toward medical care for people who may not have “earned” it, as I have. I’m okay with that. I care about my fellow Canadians and I don’t want anyone, even the lazy or stupid, to go without good medical treatment. I would bet most Canadians feel the same. Culturally, I think we put a high value on compassion.

It goes deeper than that.

Take a good look around. The days when anyone could expect to do well if they just worked hard and saved are long gone. We live in a world without guarantees. There are no sure bets anymore. How many young people come out of college or university now with nothing but a useless piece of paper and a mountain of debt? How many supposedly stable companies have either collapsed or drastically downsized, leaving long-time loyal employees in the dust? How much real industry remains in North America?

How about the people who start with a handicap? This could be a physical or mental handicap—nothing substantial enough to prevent them from doing some kind of work, but enough to significantly limit their opportunities.

Then there’s generational poverty. The “welfare bums”. These are the people for whom the middle and upper classes bear the most resentment. Social leeches. They’re easy targets because we look at the small percentage of people who rise out of that muck and point our fingers and say, “They did it, why can’t you?” We refuse to consider the effects of growing up in that environment, the constant affirmation that you cannot and will not ever be more than you are—the psychology of hopelessness.

All these people, whether born poor or rendered that way through circumstance, the go-getters who fail or those who have never even tried, every one of them deserves an equal level of health care. Every one. Some of those people will never be productive members of society and some will continue to harm themselves no matter how much care they receive. I know this. I also know that I have made bad decisions in my life, I have lived below the poverty line at times, I have gone through moments of despair and hopelessness, and what got me through was not someone yelling at me to pull myself up by my boot straps…it was kindness.

Why should I spend my hard-earned money to look after people who are too lazy or stupid to look after themselves? Because someday the person who needs a little compassion could be me, or a member of my family, or one of my friends. Because compassion is its own reward. Because the way you treat the lowest members of your society is a reflection of who you are as a person and as a nation.

If you cannot look after the medical needs of your fellow citizens for logical and technical reasons, I accept that. Sometimes, it’s just not feasible to help people as much as we’d like to. But if you refuse to look after your fellow citizens because you judge them unworthy, be careful, life has a funny way of teaching lessons. One day, the fingers might be pointed at you. One day, it could be you crying in the back of the ambulance. Let’s hope someone is kind enough to give you a tissue without making you pay for it.

My country and its medical system is far from perfect but I will always choose imperfect compassion over efficient indifference.

To my American friends, I wish you luck as you wade through the health care mess. I do not envy the road ahead for you but I also have faith you’ll find a way.

Until next week, I hope this finds you healthy, happy & lovin’ life!

The Princess

Thanks for reading! If you want to leave a tip in the jar, it’s right here…

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Posted in Health and wellness, News and politics | Tagged , , , | 6 Comments

Support Your Local Wordslinger

Hello to all my Nutters!

Today’s post is a long-winded but hilarious explanation of why I’ve added a donation button to The Coconut Chronicles (right hand side, bottom), and why you’re going to see the same donation button at the bottom of posts now.

But in case you don’t have time for the long story…

The Short Story

The guilt receptors in my brain are maxed out after watching Prez bust his already busted body for the past three years to keep me writing full time. Since every penny I’m earning from writing is going back into production of more books, the job of paying bills and keeping us from wandering the streets naked is entirely on Prez’s shoulders. (You do not want to wander naked in Nelson in November, trust me on that.) There is nothing romantic about being married to a starving artist.

There’s absolutely no pressure here and I hope you will continue to read my brain-spew even if you never give me so much as a used piece of gum. However, I do work hard to entertain you and hope that maybe, just maaaaybe, that’s worth a dollar or two.

No gum, please.

Now, for those who are new to the hallowed beaches of these Chronicles, or for those who would like to know more about this uppity scribbler begging for handouts, or for those who are reading this at 3am to help them get to sleep dammit, here is the long story. (You might want to go get some tissues; there could be orphans and injured puppies).

*Also, I’ll warn you that there’s one kind-of-icky photo. Sorry.

In the beginning…

There a was a stuntman and a stunt-woman and they did all kinds of crazy things.

They got in the way of big explosions…

Fred Perron stuntman I Spy

Fred Perron on I Spy

They drove rocket-powered wheelchairs…

Kristene Perron (Kenward) stunt woman

Kristene Perron (Kenward) on a movie so bad it cannot be named

They hobnobbed with celebrities…

Kristene Perron and Jeff Goldblum

Kristene and Jeff Goldblum on Cats and Dogs

Sometimes they got hurt doing these crazy things (icky photo, sorry)…

Fred Perron stunts burn

Fred’s 2nd degree burn from the explosion on I Spy

But the craziest thing they ever did? They quit their jobs, sold everything they owned, and moved here…

Lubbers Quarters Bahamas

Lubbers Quarters Cay – a long way from anywhere

3000 miles from home, with no TV, no radio, and dial-up internet that worked when it darn well felt like it (and it rarely felt like it),Kristene and Fred–soon to be known as “Princess and Prez”–began their new lives as nomadic entrepreneurs! (AKA “homeless drifters”).

This Caribbean Cay, so small you only ever needed to remember the last two digits of anyone’s phone number, was the birthplace of The Coconut Chronicles–a weekly, emailed newsletter written to keep family and friends up to date on the zany adventure that was island life.

That was in 2003. Ten years ago now. A lot has changed.

All the boring stuff in between…

Since 2003, I have journeyed with Prez all over the map, working and living and having adventures. We’ve had a lot of fun and we’ve also made some terrible decisions, many of which I’ve shared with the whole wide world via The Coconut Chronicles. My readers (you!) have been amazing and the virtual hugs helped me keep my chin up when things went awry.

By the way, on the road less traveled things frequently go awry.

One of the best things that happened during this time was my decision to pursue writing as a real job. I’ve always been passionate about storytelling but I was determined to turn passion into career, no matter what the odds against success. Prez was all for it.

Prez had no idea what he was in for.

2006 was my first moment of literary success. My short-short story “Attempted” won second place in the Writer’s Digest Short-Short Story Competition. I beat out almost eight thousand other entries and won $1500 in prize money. It’s no Hugo Award but it was enough to tell me I was on the right (write?) path.

Other awards followed, I had a few stories published in magazines and journals, and these Chronicles were featured on the Best of MSN Spaces (ah, the pre-WordPress era). I almost fainted the day The Coconut Chronicles received over 20,000 page views!

In 2008, while living in the Cook Islands, I met Texan writer Joshua Simpson, through this same blog. That chance e-encounter led to a co-authored story, which became a novel manuscript, which became the rough draft for a series of five novels. In 2012, we published the first book in the series, Warpworld. This month, we published the second book, Wasteland Renegades, and the next installment will be out in late 2014 or early 2015.

It has been one heck of a decade!

Where I’m at now and why I’m asking for support…

I took a long time deciding on whether or not I wanted to include a donate button on this site and how I would approach my readers if I did put it on. It seems as if just about everyone has their hand out for something these days and I don’t want to be one more hand cluttering up your already-stressful life.

But with my increasing career-related expenses and my rapidly decreasing free time, I came to the conclusion that I had to at least put out the call for help, no matter how weird it might feel.

A few folks have suggested I put advertising on here. I have chosen not to do that. And while I understand and respect bloggers who do go that route, I like to keep my tiny corner of the internet ad-free.

Over the next year, I will have another book to get ready for publication and all the related expenses that go along with that. I plan to begin work on a solo project, a novel, which will eat up what little free time I have. I would like to attend a minimum of four professional events (conferences and/or festivals) in 2014 and hopefully speak as a presenter or panelist for at least one of those. It’s going to be a stretch, so every little penny helps!

Oh wait, we don’t have pennies in Canada anymore. Make that nickels, then.

But just to make this extra crystal clear: I don’t expect donations.  I appreciate donations. I will dance a little Snoopy dance if I get donations. But I will never expect donations. I hope some of you will toss in a few dollars when you have some to spare, (and only if you feel that I’ve given you something worth your money), but I am putting absolutely zero pressure on anyone (especially my friends and family) to donate.

But if you don’t donate to me, consider the ways you can help other artists. Whether you toss some coins to a street musician or back a Kickstarter campaign, they all need you. And we all need the arts.

I want to thank anyone who spends part of their day creating…anybody who spends part of their day sharing their experience with us–I think this world would be unlivable without art and I thank you. ~ Steve Soderbergh

So ends my tale, without orphans or injured puppies…

Hm, feels a little anticlimactic, without the orphans or puppies, doesn’t it? And it probably wasn’t even that hilarious. Oh well, I’ve never been much for melodrama.

Thanks for reading, all you Nutters. You are the reason I continue on this mad key-pounding quest.

Until next time, I hope this finds you healthy, happy, and lovin’ life!

The Princess

Thanks for reading! If you want to leave a tip in the jar, it’s right here…

Pay Pal Donations

Posted in Entertainment, On Scribbling | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

La La La I Can’t Hear You

La la la

I did it again.

Last night, our friend Viktorie hosted a wonderful dinner party for our Nelson gang. I was thrilled to see (almost) all of our Nelson buddies together in one place and was reminded of just why this little city has held Prez and I in place for so long—a Herculean task, given our nomadic history. Catching up seemed the order of the evening, and I did do some of that, but what I found myself doing much more often was… TALKING!

Maybe it’s the amount of time I spend alone that drives me to spew words when I am unleashed upon the outside world? Maybe I love the spotlight too much? Maybe I’m afraid of silence? I don’t know. Whatever it is that drives me to talk loud and long, it is not something I can easily control.

But it’s not just the talking, it’s the lack of listening. Even when I do manage to shut my big trap, it is difficult for me to listen. I mean really, really listen.

It was a shocking and sad day when I realized I was not a good listener. I’d always passed that off as Prez’s flaw. He was the aggressive speaker who would cut off or interrupt without remorse. He was the one who couldn’t recall important details from conversations that I would later fill in. Me? I was the good listener. Gold stars for me!

Except that wasn’t true.

It was while I was listening to an episode of CBC radio’s DNTO one afternoon that the ugly truth slapped my mouth shut. Host Sook-Yin Lee was talking to John Francis, a man who had been silent for seventeen years of his life. By choice. In his explanation for the seventeen years of non-speaking, Francis noted that one of the things he realized about himself was that he had not been listening during conversations. He had an idea of what the other person was going to say, he would fast forward, he would compose his thoughts and formulate his response. In other words, his focus was entirely on what he was thinking and what he was going to say next.

SKREEEEECH

That was the sound of my internal record player needle scratching across the album of my consciousness.

That’s what I do.

Oh, wow. What a horrible truth.

That’s what I do.

Why?

That’s what I do.

Do other people notice? How does it make them feel?

Since that day, I have made a sincere—though admittedly sporadic—effort to be a better listener. I try not to let long pauses prompt me to speak up. I try to shut off my brain while other people are speaking and devote my energy to their words and only their words. I have tried to absorb words instead of letting them flow over me like exhaled breath.

I’m getting better. I have a long way to go. Sometimes I need a kick in the pants. Today I Googled “bad listener” and combed through the results. One page was particularly damning. Of the Eight Habits of Lousy Listeners, I think I have seven. Blerg.

Lousy listeners are planning how they will respond even while you are speaking. They are so busy rehearsing their reply that they miss part of your message and don’t catch the nuances of your communication. They’re ready with a paragraph before you’ve even completed a sentence.
~ Marie Hartwell-Walker, Ed.D.

Why? This is the question that rolls over and over through my head. Why am I a bad listener? It isn’t as if I don’t care about people. I do. It’s not that I’m not interested in learning. I am. It isn’t even that I lack patience. I don’t. So what makes my own thoughts take precedence?

Perhaps it is because there are so many thoughts inside my head at any given time. I wake up thinking. From the moment I slip from sleep to waking reality, my brain kicks into high gear. From the mundane (Remember to book a dentist appointment for Prez) to the sublime (Is the universe truly infinite?) it’s rush hour on the Princess Thought Highway. At night, I have learned to funnel the thoughts into story form—my adult version of a bedtime story—to keep away the insomnia that has often plagued me. Even in sleep, there’s no silence. My dreams are vivid and intense; they bleed into real life as soon as I awake.

For writing fiction, this thought-overload is awesome. I have never known writer’s block. If anything, my problem is the frustration of knowing I will not be physically capable of telling all the stories in my head.  I’m baffled by bloggers who struggle for subject matter—trust me, I could post ten Coconut Chronicles a day.

I won’t. Don’t panic.

Knowing this, perhaps it should not be all that surprising that the stuff in my head would verbally flood out into the real world at any opportunity. But I don’t want to be that person.

What I have found is that when I do really listen, I become a better friend, I become a better citizen, I become a better leader, and so on. I even become a better writer. Real listening increases my understanding of my world and the people in it. Real listening deepens my empathy. Real listening builds trust. These, and all the other side effects of real listening, are all things I strive for.

So here’s the deal. If you know me in real life, and we’re talking, and I start spewing, feel free to touch me on the arm and say “Princess, time to listen.” I promise I will. I promise I will stop whatever I am saying and listen to you. Really listen.

Well, depending on how many martinis I’ve swigged. This promise is definitely not gin-proof. Sorry.

I’m not going to give up on this. I will become a good listener.

Starting

Right

Now

Until next week, I hope this finds you healthy, happy, and lovin’ life!

The Princess

Posted in Friends, Life | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Should I or Shouldn’t I? Advice from the self-publishing trenches

This post begins with a caveat. A King Kong sized caveat. I am not an expert in indie/self-publishing. I am not some Mr. Miyagi, here to help you discover universal truths about yourself and your quest for publication as you wax my car. I am not yet making a profit as a self-published author. (I make money, yes, but at this point all the money that shows up at my door promptly turns around and marches right back into the next book—it’s fun to watch it as it passes by, though). I wrote this post for a completely selfish reason: to answer the many questions about indie/self-publishing I have been asked in the past year, in one convenient place. If you are considering publishing your own work, this post is intended only to help with your decision, not to make it for you.

I am not your mother!

There, that’s the warning out of the way. Onto the fun bit.

Yesterday I met an author friend of mine for coffee to discuss my thoughts on self-publishing. I have had a surprising number of these conversations with writers— aspiring, new, experienced, and traditionally published—since Josh and I indie published Warpworld in October 2012. Surprising because, yeesh, I’m new to all this myself. But I guess what I have to offer, however limited, is experience. I’ve done it. I’ve slogged through the jungle of confusing and often contradictory information and come out the other side with a finished product that, so far, readers seem to find pretty cool. Also, I think word has spread that I will offer the unvarnished truth—a valuable commodity in a business infested with dream-sucking vampires and con-artists.

I’m asked many questions but what these conversations all boil down to is simply writers trying to decide if indie publishing is the right path for them. I can’t make that decision for you (see also: mother, I am not your), but I can tell you what I’ve seen, experienced, and learned so far, and I can (hopefully) provide you with enough holy water to fend off  the dream-sucking vampires. Rather than ramble endlessly (which I could easily do on this topic), I’m going to list some questions that you should ask yourself before you make your decision. Where it’s appropriate, I’ll include examples from my own experiences.

NOTE: If you don’t at least try to answer these questions honestly, there’s not much point in asking them. <– There’s an example of that unvarnished truth I mentioned.

Am I good enough?

You could ask “Is my book good enough?” but if you hope to make a living as an author you will need to write more than one book. If you hope to make a living as an indie author, you will need to write a lot of books. A lot of good books. Quickly. What this means is that your writing skills must be at a level where you can produce a minimum of one quality, average-sized book per year. (Depending on genre, an average-sized book is a manuscript between 55-100K words).

The self-published authors I’ve seen fail most epically and complain most loudly are those who have chosen this path as a shortcut to publication. Patience grasshopper. Wax on, wax off, and all that. You don’t learn how to throw a punch and then immediately jump in the octagon with Georges St. Pierre, (unless of course you enjoy being a human origami project).

Okay, so I’m a little bit Mr. Miyagi.

The gatekeepers of traditional publishing may miss some winners, but most of the rejections they deliver are legitimate. Most first manuscripts are some degree of poopy. Mine sure was. Learning to recognize when your writing is poopy is part of the process. Don’t skip it. The best advertising for an indie author is word of mouth. You don’t want those words to be, “Man, that book was poopy!”

Factors to consider:

  • How long have you been writing? If you started six months ago, chances are you’re not there yet.
  • What level of feedback have you received on your work? Praise from friends and family may give us all the warm fuzzies but it’s a poor measure of your writing ability. You need to hear the sometimes-ugly truth from professionals in the business—authors, editors, agents—before you can make an objective assessment of your skill..
  • Have you been published anywhere? Traditionally, writers honed their craft by submitting short stories to paying markets. Don’t skip this step simply because you are anxious to get published. The lessons to be learned in this process are invaluable. Also, sometimes they accept your stories and THEY SEND YOU MONEY!

Do I have the time?

All authors must invest chunks of time into promoting their work. For unknown indie authors, the chunks are much bigger. Even for a new author, a publisher will do a minimal amount of promotion and they have the benefit of industry clout that you—tiny, unknown scribbler—do not. This means you will have to work harder, smarter, and longer to achieve the same results.

Read the fine print: Self-publish and you sell your soul to the clock.

My writing partner, Josh, says I work salt mine hours. (He also says that organizing my soup cans in alphabetical order is excessive, so he’s not always to be believed). I do write full time. Sometimes I write seven days a week but usually a minimum of five. My work days range from eight to fourteen hours. On average, I spend about thirty percent of my work time on promotion—direct and indirect—and business-related research. Note, that’s not story research, that’s reading, watching, and listening to podcasts, articles, blog posts, and stories about the business of selling books.

So, let’s say I work an average of sixty hours per week. Thirty percent of that would be eighteen hours. Holy crap! Eighteen hours per week spent entirely on business research, marketing, and promotion. (*Note I count time spent on social media and writing blog posts as part of this).

That’s just the PR part of the job (my least favourite part and the part that I would gladly trade for a box of used Kleenex). As mentioned, you also have to keep writing more books. Quickly.

Oh, and you have to read in there, somewhere. Writers must be readers.

You may also want to have a life, too, but that’s optional.

*There are many opinions on how much time you should spend marketing your self-published book. This is the amount of time I put in and I am constantly adjusting my strategies based on results. YMMV etc.

Factors to consider:

  • How many free hours per day/week do you have to do this job? Do the math.
  • If you commit to enough hours to write, market, and research to be successful, will other important parts of your life suffer? Partners/spouses, kids, and pets also require a percentage of your time. Don’t wait for a suitcase at the door to tell you that you’ve been neglecting someone you love. (Cats are so unforgiving).

What are my goals?

This is a critical question because your answers will not only determine whether self-publishing is the right path for you but also what that path will look like. Uncle Billy the hobby writer, whose one and only book is a riveting memoir about his life as an emu taxidermist, will have completely different needs than you, with your ten-book space opera. Give serious thought to your long, mid-term, and short term goals. Write them down. Be as specific as possible.

Here’s what some of my writing goals look like, (edited for length—I’m a bit obsessive with lists):

Long term: A life-long career as a published novelist. Write the best quality stories I can, but with an emphasis on reader enjoyment rather than critical praise. Earn a living from my writing but also maintain a high degree of creative freedom—i.e. I won’t write books just for a paycheque, I must love the story. Remain open to writing in a variety of genres, (though my first love is speculative fiction). Have fun telling stories and enjoy the ride!

Mid-term: Build an audience of 10-15K readers. Publish all five books in the Warpworld series, as well as “shadow stories” connected to the series. Write a screenplay for the first Warpworld book, try to sell it. Rebuild my ego after my Warpworld screenplay fails to sell. Complete at least one solo manuscript and sell to a traditional publisher. Continue to write short stories and submit to paying markets and competitions. Present as a panelist/speaker/instructor at workshops, festivals, and conventions. Have fun telling stories and enjoy the ride!

Short term: Publish the first three Warpworld novels within three years. Attend a minimum of four professional events per year. Get a short story published in one reputable paying market and/or place in one reputable competition per year. Build a readership of 5K within three years. Have fun telling stories and enjoy the ride!

You’ll notice that in my mid-term goals I want to have a traditionally published manuscript. This is not an admission that indie publishing is inferior, but it is an acknowledgment that to take my career to the next level the smartest path would be to work as a hybrid author. If my stated goal is to make a living as a writer, then I would be foolish to ignore the exposure I could gain by working with a traditional publisher.

Also, I won’t have to sneak into so many parties at conventions.

You’ll also notice that fun is a component of all my goals but money is not. Don’t get me wrong, money is great and I would happily roll naked in a bouncy castle full of it but there are lots of jobs I could do if all I wanted was money. If writing stops being fun, it’s time for me to reassess.

That is the purpose of writing out goals—figuring out what you want and then designing plans to get what you want. Your goals, more than any other single factor, can tell you if self-publishing is a good choice.

Factors to consider:

  • Career or hobby? If you write solely as a hobby, then self-publishing can be easy, inexpensive, and fun. Publish that emu taxidermy memoir! Why not? But if you plan to make a living as a writer, you might want to consider a hybrid of indie and traditional publishing.
  • What’s your genre? Know your market. Some genres fare better in indie publishing than others.
  • How clear are your goals? If your goals are fuzzy, you probably need more time. Relax. It’s not a competition.

Am I am entrepreneur?

Hold on while I take off my toque and straighten my tie. There.

Publishing is a business. If you plan to write as a career, whether as an indie, hybrid, or traditionally published author, you need to understand this. We all love the artistic and creative side of writing; it’s the reason most of us put fingers to keyboard, (or pen to paper for those stuck in the previous century), but once the art is done, you need to sell it. YOU NEED TO BE A SALESPERSON!

Did that last sentence make you throw up in your mouth a little bit? Well, get used to that vomit flavour. Learn to love it.

Self-published authors must possess a good amount of entrepreneurial spirit, loads of self-discipline, and believe strongly enough in their work/art/product to sell it to a bunch of strangers. E-publishing has leveled the playing field in many ways but you are still David against Goliath, except you don’t even have a rock—you have a Nerf gun and Goliath has a rocket launcher and laser vision. Small, medium, and large publishers have fatter wallets than you, decades of experience, and connections in all the right places. In a market flooded with books, you will have to be creative, determined, and unfailingly positive to stand a chance of getting seen and surviving.

You will also need a wide range of skills, or have friends with a wide range of skills, or enough money to hire professionals with the skills you need. And be careful with the friend thing because unless you’re paying your friends you really can’t demand anything from them, which can lead to de-friending in a hurry.

Everything takes time, everything has a cost. There will be math involved. You have been warned.

Here’s a quasi-breakdown of some of the jobs Josh and I do, and the jobs we hire out for to produce Warpworld:

  • Beta reading/substantive editing/copy and line editing: Hire out/friends/writing peers (aprox $1300/book)
  • Website: Kristene, with tons of help from Mr. Kristene (aprox $150/year)
  • Blog posts: Kristene and Josh (minor costs for buying images $5-100/year)
  • Cover Design: Kristene and Josh doing mock-up, hire out for final product (aprox $200-300/book)
  • Typesetting and ebook formatting: Hire out (aprox $100-300/book)
  • Uploading to vendors: Josh
  • Social media: Kristene
  • Advertising/Marketing: Kristene, Josh, and hire out. (costs vary widely but count on anywhere from $300-1000 as a minimum)

For one book, with Josh and I doing most of the work ourselves, and hiring professionals who will work within our microscopic budget, we still run a minimum cost of about $2000 to edit, produce, and market a book that can stand side-by-side with a traditionally published book. $2000 is a low estimate and the fewer tasks you can do yourself the more your costs will rise.

If the thought of running your own business and risking your own money makes you jelly-legged, then you might be better off going a traditional route: seek an agent and find a publisher willing to buy your manuscript. If the idea of this challenge excites you, then you might be cut out for the exciting life of an entrepreneur, or perhaps a career as a poisonous snake wrangler!

Factors to consider:

  • How much of the work can you do yourself? And not just “do” but “do well”. Nothing will turn away potential readers more quickly than work that looks like your blind, five-year-old niece did it.
  • Are you a salesperson? You will have to sell your book both online and in real life. How well do you handle speaking in public and to strangers?
  • Do you have the money to invest? There is no escaping the costs of producing a book. Even if you can do everything, you will still want to hire a copy/line editor at the very least. Are you willing to spend that money knowing you may not make it back for years or (worst case scenario), ever?

Am I ready to embrace indie?

Perceptions are changing but the stigma of Self-publishing = Vanity Press remains. Sadly, for good reason. Thanks to the ease of epublishing, the number of poopy self-published books is staggering. For every Hugh Howey out there, there are legions of lazy/unaware/just-plain-poopy writers who poop volumes of garbage into the e-world.

Howey’s my indie author hero, by the way. You should run out immediately and buy his books. Actually, you don’t have to run anywhere, you can buy them through the magic of the interwebz! Here’s a link: www.hughhowey.com. Tell him I sent you. Ask him why he hasn’t answered any of the six hundred and seventy-two emails I sent him this month. Tell him I know that the restraining order was just him playing hard to get.

Ahem. Where was I? Oh, yes. Me.

I did not make the decision to self-publish easily. In fact, when Josh first mentioned the idea I hissed and then tried to drive a wooden stake into his heart. (He’s never really forgiven me for that—so touchy). I would have resisted indefinitely if I didn’t know that we had written a damned good book, that we were both committed to a long term plan, and that we possessed enough skills and money to put out a book that could stand proudly on a bookstore shelf next to any traditionally published work. It also helped that public opinion about indie publishing was undergoing a momentous change. Even so, “indie author” felt a little too close to “MTV Canada” for my taste.

It wasn’t until after we were ready to release our second book, after we had received praise from readers that weren’t our parents, and after I realized I hadn’t been shunned from the professional writing world, that I was ready to embrace my title.

I say embrace, not accept. Accept infers some degree of reluctance. When you embrace indie, doors open, curtains are lifted, and woodland creatures perch on your shoulders and sing. Being indie means you can discard old rules and make up new ones. You can hold your head up proudly because what really matters is your readers—theirs is the only approval you need. READERS, YOU ARE MADE OF AWESOME AND I OFFER YOU AN ETERNAL HIGH FIVE!

When Josh and I were discussing our plans for the second Warpworld book, we decided that instead of seeking out prestigious authors and reviewers for quotes—let’s face it, we weren’t going to get more than maybe one or two anyway and that would require copious amounts of begging and/or bribing—we would include snippets of reviews from our fans. Why not? We’re indie. We make the mother f@$#ing rules now! If we want reader quotes at the front of our book, we’ll damn well have them! (With the readers’ express, written permission, of course).

Readers can be amazing, open-minded, and inspiring, and all they ask in return is a really good story. Embracing indie means shifting your paradigm. Your peers, other industry professionals, even professional reviewers, must get in line behind your readers. Love them, celebrate them, include them, your readers are your publishers now; you stand or fall on their support.

And that rocks like Stonehenge.

Factors to consider:

  • How thick-skinned are you? You’re going to hear and read things about self-published authors that will test the limits of your self-esteem and self-control, you can’t take it personally. However, you can burn those people in effigy. Not that I have ever done such a thing… she said as the kerosene fell from her purse.
  • Will you swear to be a good ambassador? Okay, this one’s entirely selfish but the world does not need another low quality, unprofessional, poopy indie author. They make us all look bad. Don’t be that person. Please. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!

AUTHOR BEWARE

You can tell I’m serious by my use of all caps! Here’s the part where I try to keep you from losing your money to the unethical dream-sucking vampires trolling the indie-authorverse. If I haven’t scared you off and you’re serious about self-publishing, I want you to do so with your eyes wide open.

There are absolutely no guarantees in the professional writing life. None. Repeat that one thousand times. Any business or individual that promises you a specific level of success with your book is full of it.

Scams abound in the writing world but self-publishing is like a field full of helpless lambs and baby seals for the clubbing for these cons. Most notable are the fully legitimate businesses (some of which are owned by real publishers) who will help you to “self-publish” your masterpiece and all they ask in return is the limb of your choice, your first born child, and for you to pledge your eternal soul to an evil underworld demon. Run. Run away screaming. This is beautiful trickery. This is the exploitation of your hopes and dreams by people with eyeballs shaped like dollar signs. This is not self-publishing, this is a cleverly disguised vanity press. Their promises will be tempting but, as Mr. Miyagi says, “Not everything is as it seems.”

I’ve heard horror stories of people paying up to $15,000 to have their book “self-published”. Trust me, you’d be better off just burning the money—at least you could enjoy the brief flash of warmth from the fire.

Educate yourself. This will take more time and energy but it will save you a load of heartache and money. SFWA’s Writer Beware is a fantastic place to start but you need only Google “self-publishing scams” to find pages of information. You should also start networking and making friends with experienced, published authors (this is something you should do anyway), who can help answer your questions.

Your best hope at succeeding in any form of publishing is to write a damn good book. You might as well repeat that one thousand times too.

And Now I Sum It All Up Neatly With A Bow

Before making a decision about self-publishing, consider your skill level and available time; write out your short, mid, and long-term writing goals; determine whether you have the entrepreneurial spirit you’ll need to sell your work; and decide if the awesomeness of self-publishing is worth the stigma you will have to face. Don’t rush. Do your homework. And, of course, have fun and enjoy the ride.

I am always happy to answer questions, with the aforementioned caveat that I am not an expert, just an author who is figuring it out as she goes. And if you’d like to share your own experience or thoughts, leave a comment so everyone can learn a thing or two.

For those who don’t know me, (Mom, you can stop reading now), you can explore the warped worlds Josh and I have created at warpworld.ca (the second book is aaaaallllllmmmooost out) and you can visit my Goodreads author profile here. <— See? Always promoting.

And because I believe in helping out those folks who have helped me…

If you’re looking for a cover designer, typesetter/ebook formatter who will work their butt off and do excellent work, and not charge you up the wazoo, then you need to contact this guy RIGHT NOW: Miguel Kilantang at Migz Works

For ruthless and stellar copy and line editing, with humorous notes in the margins, drop me a line and I’ll pass on the contact info for Steve Thornton. (Steve, you need a website!)

To find quality indie books and support indie authors, visit indiebrag.com

And of course let’s also support our local indie bookstores (that would be Otter Books in my current home town of Nelson, BC, Canada) because they’re the folks that give up-and-coming scribblers, (like me), shelf space! IndieBound.org

Until next time, I hope this finds you healthy, happy & lovin’ life, grasshopper!

Posted in Indie publishing, On Scribbling, Warpworld | Tagged , , , | 19 Comments

Spotlight on: Megan McLeod – Playing With Her Food

Dearest Nutters,

My apologies for abandoning my post(s) for so long. There was the push to get the next novel out (almost there), the frantic work on book #3 (about 1/3 into the first draft), a whirlwind trip to Worldcon (the World Science Fiction Convention, also known as “Barcon”), and then packing up and leaving Ucluelet (the day after getting home from Worldcon). The great news is I’m returning with a BANG!

Or perhaps a chomp?

Some of you may recall that in the last year or so, I have decided to learn how to cook. I’ve actually been doing fairly well at this momentous endeavor and I owe much of that to Megan McLeod and her funny and fantastic blog Playing With My Food.

I’ve known Megan for almost fifteen years, not coincidentally about the same length of time I have been with Prez–neighbour of Pat and Joyce “Martha” Roney, parents of the now-famous Megan.

Here’s the thing, Megan’s always been a dynamo but I’d never pegged her for a culinary wizard. Then she launched her blog and… Let’s just say, I love that people can still surprise me. To celebrate Megan’s growing success I asked her to come over here and submit to a friendly interrogation. To celebrate the end of Prez’s season as a Ucluelet fishing guide, I also asked Megan if she would bring a salmon recipe. (Remember: Always wild salmon, Nutters. I like my salmon like I like my men–wild and scaly.)

Lucky for me, and you, she agreed to do both.  So let me introduce my guest, Megan McLeod…

*THUNDEROUS APPLAUSE*

Megan McLeod of Playing With My Food

Megan McLeod of Playing With My Food

Princess: Meg, I’ve known you and your family for almost fifteen years now, and have been treated to many mouth watering meals at “Casa Roney”, so I can understand where you developed a love of good food. But when did you really start getting into food and cooking for yourself?

Megan: Ah, Casa Roney.  I often tell my friends that I grew up with two gourmet chefs as parents, but really it was just a passion of my mom and dad’s to cook with love and always music, lots of great music.  I still can’t listen to Gyspy Kings or Neil Young without thinking of my dad throwing some marinated chicken or steaks onto the BBQ, or Fleetwood Mac without thinking of my mom baking muffins. I gave them a run for their money a few times growing up.  There was my love, then hate, then love of seafood.  There was my white meat only (but not seafood!) phase.  And there was even a really weird phase as a child where I wouldn’t eat peaches, and most especially not peach yogurt, because it tasted like ‘ears.’

Growing up, I never had to pitch in one night a week to cook dinner, it was just always ready and waiting for me.  To be asked to help wash lettuce for the salad or chop up some mushrooms for a pasta sauce was sure to elicit a groan from me.  I was spoiled in the culinary department.  When I moved out on my own at the age of 21, I was in for a surprise because cooking was…hard, and the only thing that I really knew how to do well was to fry an egg.  My mom gifted to me my grandmother’s Best of Bridge cookbook series, which were the cookbooks that I grew up on through my mom’s cooking.  Slowly I started trying out some of the family favourites, and something clicked.  I was doing it…I was making Hamburger Soup, and Macaroni and Cheese, and Lasagna, and it tasted good.   Since then, I realized that if I wanted to feed myself, I would have to be the one to do it, and things really took off for me from there.

My cookbook collection has expanded quite a bit since then, but I always go back to the tattered, worn, stained pages of those Best of Bridge cookbooks when I am feeling like something that reminds me of home.

Princess: What inspired you to start Playing With My Food? And what are the best/worst things about writing a food blog?

Megan: Playing With My Food started out as something that was just for me.  I was coming across so many great recipes on the Internet and in my cookbooks, and I would make something that tasted great, but forget completely about it after the leftovers were gone.  When someone would ask me for the recipe, I wouldn’t remember where it had come from.  I wanted to create an archive of the recipes that I considered to be tried and true or ‘keepers.’  This is where Playing With My Food blossomed from.

Once I started posting all of my different culinary escapades, I began sharing it with some family and close friends.  Quite quickly, people started sharing it with others, and it really just grew and grew from there.  Now I will show up at a gathering and be introduced as, ‘the girl with the food blog that you like,’ which is a really fun, and something that I never expected to happen.

One of the best things about writing the blog is seeing that my viewership isn’t just the people who live in my city or the cities that my friends and families live in, but that when I look at my blog viewer statistics, people are reading it all over the world.  It’s really cool to think that something that I am writing is being read as far away as London or Melbourne.  It’s surreal.  The hardest thing for me is definitely the photography!  All of my photos are taken on my iPhone 5, and (if that wasn’t enough of a clue) I am no budding photographer.  I am always very happy and surprised when I happen to get a great shot of the food that I have made.

Princess: I have made a ton of recipes from your website and they have all turned out fabulous, thankyouverymuch, but I’m sure you’ve had some “kitchen disasters”. Fess up, what’s the worst meal you’ve ever made?

Megan: Thank you very much for being such a supportive reader of the blog!  As for kitchen disasters, The Hubby is very kind when it comes to his reviews of my food, but there are some ‘creations’ that even he can’t hide his reaction on, with a lot of them centering around me trying to swap out regular ingredients for a gluten-free version.  A couple of recent kitchen disasters that he couldn’t stomach were first a quinoa salad that was too mushy (used too much liquid), and second a quinoa salad that was too hard (used not enough liquid)…it was like he was Goldilocks or something!  Most of the time he is very supportive and if not I always like to remind him of the first meal that he ever made for me:  Kraft dinner mixed together with canned green beans and curry powder.

Princess: Okay, ew. Now that I’ve humiliated you (and The Hubby), how about your best meal? What was it and what makes it so memorable?

Megan McLeod with Pat Rony and Joyce Roney

Megan and her inspirational parents. (L to R) Megan, Pat, Joyce

Megan: My best meal doesn’t actually have to do with what I made, but really with the process of making it.  I mentioned earlier that my mom is a great cook, but she is also the most giving, thoughtful, and helpful person that I know.  After she had hinted for years that it was my turn to host a holiday turkey dinner, The Hubby and I finally did so at Thanksgiving 2012.  My mom spent all day with me the day prior to finalize recipe choices, prep all of the vegetables, and get as much done ahead of time as possible.  On Thanksgiving Day, she came over early to again help me get the table set and assist with getting the turkey out of the brine, covered with butter, herbs, and cheesecloth, tied up, and into the oven, and she didn’t leave until after the dishes were washed.  The 12-person dinner went off without a hitch, and I literally couldn’t have done it without my mom.

Spending that time with my mom is something that I will always cherish, and at the same time I finally learned how to cook my first turkey!  Other than that, I just love when my brother asks for seconds, my in-laws request that I bring something that they like that I have made in the past to a family dinner, or a friend asks me for a recipe.  That might make it sound like I’m only in it for the praise, but it really is the best feeling to cook something and know that someone really enjoyed it.

Princess: Ha! I am just beginning to know how that feels! So for all the aspiring and beginner cooks out there, what are your words of wisdom or advice? What are the big lessons you’ve learned over the years?

Megan: Wow, I feel like I am still learning so much every day myself!   My advice for beginner cooks would be to start by cooking the things you love, be yourself, and the rest will fall into place.  With the advent of Pinterest, the numerous cooking reality shows on the television, and all of the countless food blogs out there, it can be easy to get swept up into the ideology that what you are making in your kitchen doesn’t compare to what others are doing.  I feel the exact same way!  The great thing about all of those mediums being available is that they are a great way to get inspired and to learn a few new things.  If not, you can always order take-out!

Princess: Yes, I may have…ahem…ordered take out once or twice. Thanks so much and here’s to many more yummy meals! Now how about that recipe I asked for? (Yes, I am demanding).

Megan: How about a recipe for my dad’s BBQ Teriyaki Salmon?

Princess: I am already drooling. Take it away, Megan

Megan: Once I realized around the age of 20 that seafood was actually ah-mazing, I always loved when my dad made this for dinner.  It tastes like candy!

Pat’s BBQ Teriyaki Salmon

Serves:  4

Ingredients:

  • 1 1/2 cups soy sauce
  • 3/4 cup brown sugar
  • 1/2 cup white sugar
  • 2 or 3 ounces water
  • 1 1/2 ounce olive oil
  • 2 tablespoons freshly minced garlic
  • 2 tablespoons freshly minced ginger
  • 4 x 6-ounce salmon filets

Directions:

To make the marinade, whisk together the first seven ingredients in a medium bowl.  Pour the marinade into a large plastic freezer bag.

Rinse your salmon filets, pat dry, and remove any pin bones with tweezers or your fingers. Add the salmon to the marinade in the freezer bag, making sure that the salmon is completely covered with the marinade.  Place into a fridge for between 4 – 5 hours (try to not leave it marinating for much longer than 5 hours because it will be too strongly flavoured, but you want it to be in there for at least 4 hours to make sure it’s flavoured enough).

BBQ salmon marinating

Heat your BBQ grill to medium-high.  Spray the grill with cooking spray or brush with oil.  Remove salmon from marinade and place directly onto the grill.

BBQ salmon cooking on the grill

Cook for 4 – 5 minutes per side.  Salmon is ready when it flakes easily through the thickest part.

Best BBQ salmon recipe Megan McLeod

Enjoy!

****

Well, please excuse me as I wipe the drool from my keyboard. Seriously, go check out Playing With My Food RIGHT NOW! Bookmark it! Revel in the yumminess (and often gluten-free-ness)! If you don’t become a fan, I will fly you to a tropical island in my private jet and give you foot massages for a year!*

Until next week, I hope this finds you healthy, happy, well fed, and lovin’ life!

The Princess

*The author does not actually have a private jet and will never touch anyone else’s feet but she’s 100% sure you will love Megan’s blog.

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It’s the Little Things

There’s this joke I used to tell as a kid that got me huge laughs every time I performed it. For the record, seven-year-old me rated “huge laughs at my joke” right up there with ice cream and ponies. For that matter, forty-four year old me feels much the same. Anyway, the joke was horrifically racist. I know that now but seven-year-old me used to eat at Sambo’s restaurant and had a black dog named Toby.

Thinking on this stuff makes me vaguely vomit-y, but those were the times. I don’t know how many people it took saying “Hey, this stuff is wrong!” over and over to make those sorts of jokes and names go away but I’m guessing lots. I’m also guessing an equal amount of people would say, “What’s your problem? It’s just a joke!” or “Sambo’s is funny because it has cartoon characters, that’s not racism.”

It’s super easy to believe discrimination and oppression doesn’t exist when you’re not the one being discriminated against or oppressed.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about things that are culturally acceptable today and yet blatantly sexist. Things that I have overlooked, things that I have said, or things I’ve validated by my silence. More and more, I realize how deeply ingrained the gender bias is and how it’s the littlest things that shape our views.

Strong woman with wahoo

Me and my big wahoo

Prez likes to tease his fishing charter clients in a fun, good-natured way. They’re almost all men. When one of them starts to whine about how heavy the fish is or how hard it is to reel, Prez will say, “Oh, would you like me to call my wife and ask her to reel it in for you?”

The guests always laugh at this. I laughed, when he told me. After all, I know I’m a kick ass angler and I’ve reeled in fish half my weight and almost the same length as me. I know it often shocks men when they see what I can do.

But then Prez and I stopped to think about what that statement means beneath the surface. It wasn’t so funny after that.

Strong women fishing

Strong Princess reels up a halibut

What makes, “Oh, would you like me to call my wife and ask her to reel it in for you?” so not funny? Well, “wife” is a woman and women are weak. In other words, the angler is question is SO weak that even a woman could do a better job reeling in the fish…and women are super weak, amirite?

Yay, thanks for reinforcing that stereotype!

As soon as Prez realized what he was really saying, he swore he would find a better funny, non-sexist jab. Not at my insistence, by the way. It was his idea, for which I love him dearly.

But how many times are men compared to women, usually by other men, as a means to insult them, whether seriously or in jest? Perhaps one of the worst insults out there is any one that compares a heterosexual man to a woman. What does that say about what we think of women?

Nothing good.

The next thing that got me thinking is an innocent bit of casual conversation, and one which I am 100% guilty of myself.

It happens when parents have an attractive young daughter. You’ve heard some variation of this conversation before:

Me: “Oh boy, you’re in trouble when she grows up!”

Parent: “I know! I’ll just make sure I’m cleaning the shotgun whenever a boy comes to the house to take her on a date!”

Ha ha! Right?

Just yesterday it hit me why this is such a bad statement to make.

First of all, the assumption here is that an attractive young female will attract a lot of male attention, which will possibly lead to groping and/or sexy time in the teen years. Fair enough, teen boys do not lack hormones, however, I have never, not in forty-four years, heard the same comment made about a good looking boy child.

So, it’s okay if your handsome teen boy scores but your pretty teen girl should be virginal until marriage?

What the what?

Parents, let me tell you something, I was a teen girl once. Shocking, I know. You know what else? I was as hormonal and horny as any boy my age. Maybe more than some. Well, definitely more than some. This is not me advocating for teen sex—though let’s get real, it happens—this is me saying take a close look at this accepted double standard.

Second problem with the above dialogue in its many forms is that it paints girls as stupid, weak (again), and incapable of making good choices. Only dad with a shotgun can fend off the bad horny teen boys, because there’s no way a pretty teen girl will have the guts, self esteem, or intelligence to either fend them off herself, choose boys that won’t maul her on the first date, or put to use the sex-ed lessons her parents and others have been giving her over the years.

Oh, and let’s not forget that we’re painting all teen boys as potential rapists.

Third, young kids hear us say this crap. So, from an early age we start hammering home the stereotypes.

There’s nothing at all wrong with raising kids to respect themselves and make informed sexual choices, there is something very wrong with continuing to feed the idea of pretty girls as helpless creatures with brains made of cotton candy and virtue in need of saving.

Yes, I know we project a lot of weird gender stuff onto boys, too, and we need to watch that, but boys don’t face the gender discrimination that girls do. So, I’m shining the spotlight on the females right now.

Dads, I get it. You remember yourself as a teen boy and the thought of someone like teen-you cozying up to your baby terrifies you. But if you want your daughter to grow up strong and confident, if you want her to be the kind of teen girl that would tell teen you to keep his hands to himself and “Back off now, Mister!”, you have to make her believe that she is that girl. You have to start young and constantly reaffirm your faith in her ability to take care of herself.

Because it’s those little words, those little jokes, that drill holes in our foundation. They reinforce, in an everyday way, that we girls are not equal to the boys. They, the boys, don’t need protection but we do.

So, I’m not going to start or participate in those kinds of conversations anymore and if you catch me doing so please feel free to smack me upside the head with a dead salmon.

The final thing that I’ve been thinking about is the pressure for girls to be “nice”. I know I got this as a child and I still struggle to overcome those “nice” demons as an adult. I could rant for a few more pages about that but Catherine Newman says it best with: I Do Not Want My Daughter To Be Nice.

If it seems as if I’ve suddenly become a lot more feminist lately it’s only because I’ve become a lot more feminist lately. I’ve taken a hard look at the world around me, at the sexism that I’ve dealt with all my life that I’ve just accepted because, hey, that’s the world, and I’ve realized I’m about done with it all. I’m done with being “nice”. If I can do one thing to help create a more equal and fair world for the generations to come after me, I’m going to damn well do it.

And I’m going to start at home. With the little things.

Until next week,

I hope this finds you healthy, happy, and lovin’ life!

The Princess

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