Hello blog and all those invisible people reading this (I know its really only Ad marketers, but a blogger of no importance like myself can dream can't they?)! You may have wondered where I ran away to. I bet you thought I went and met a super handsome, charming LA boy who didn't have the usual 'judge a girl only by her looks' mind set. Well! I'm pleased to say you'd be.......wrong. HA!
In all actual factual reality I have spent the past *counts on fingers* seven months (REALLY!? 7 months?!) finishing my book. I have never in my life finished a book. Maybe I shouldn't state that on the internet where it will now be held up and made fun of later on in my life, but its worth the risk! I have completed my book! I agonized over, I spent a few weeks completely despondent over ever finishing it when the parts I thought would be easiest to write turned out to be the hardest. Of course, I couldn't share my misery alone. Oh no.
A few select friends were privy to my constant calling of them and saying "I can't do this!" and "I don't have enough material for 300 pages! What am I going to do!?!?!" And like the amazing troopers they were, they patted my back, filled my wine glass with wine, and forced me to finish it like all good friends do. Would I get this book finished without them? Maybe in five years...or never. Friends are a wonderful thing!
So yes! Seven months. And all I have to show for it is a completed book! If I had my way I'd slap my hands together and say "there, all done!" and leave it be. But I have very demanding friends and my little tiny ego has voiced that this book be published. And so with all of the starry eyed assurance of a teenager saying "I'm going to be the next Hannah Montana!" I've sent my little book out into the world of agents.
Its an odd thing to send out query letters. But I'll save that topic for another post--yup, its that harrowing of a tale! I've sent out queries along with exerts from my book and crossed fingers, and now I have to wait. Initially I only sent out four query letters (that is, letters you write to agents by trying to be your own agent describing your book in such a way that they want to show it off to others. That's right. You're an agent to get an agent. Writers, good luck!), and I have received two rejection letters. Though they were very nice rejection letters, and one even said my book was good, and to not give up! How's that for encouragement!?
As the season changes into fall, when people begin to anticipate buying apple cider while waiting for the end of the world on December 21, I'm just starting to prepare for a long battle. Because that's what the writing world is my friends. A battle. But now that I'm completely free (for now) of writing books, I can turn my attention back to my sorely neglected blog. Not that I have a lot going on in my life, but I'll try to keep it interesting!
Who knows? Maybe I'll do something crazy like land a book deal! Or find out that men in Southern California have spontanously become smart and well read young men who can carry on a conversation that doesn't revolve around the famous people they know, what they do, and how many girls they've slept with (why yes, I have had that conversation presented to me in that order while on a date).
A girl can dream!
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Going Irish
There are two things that I am beyond a doubt. I am writer, and I'm Irish. I don't mean Irish in a "hey, my great-great-great-grandfather was from Ireland...I think the family name was Scapolini." way. I mean Irish in a "my grandparents are from Ireland and raised six VERY Irish children that attain accents when angry (or drunk)" way. I have always grown up in an Irish like environment. Family always coming and going, wakes filled with laughing, crying, and hidden alcohol (that's a whole other story), and the many evenings spent 'round a fireplace (or camp fire, or nightlight) listening to my dad tell folklore from the 'auld country'.
And it was this very childhood and the stories in it that made me silently (or maybe not so silently) rage against the authors who defamed, twisted, and flat out misused the information and stories of the Irish pantheons and storytellers. So slowly, carefully, I crafted a story as only a child born of a storyteller could. I decided to write a book using the true and accurate (to my knowledge and research) stories and folklore. I have always loved where my family came from, I was raised being told repeatedly by my father "Keely, your Irish".
I didn't realize how true that statement was until I went to Ireland. In Southern California where fit bodies, sun tanned leather skin and Blond Hair in a Box rule, I am the odd duck out. I am pale with freckles (mostly gone, but I was really freckled as a child), brownish red hair, and curves that most girls pay heafty sums for here. But I am odd. So when I landed in Ireland and found that every one was as talkative as myself and could spin a story out of their life just like I always did, it made me realize just how culturally 'Irish' my dad had raised me.
I had come home. And if felt wonderful.
So now I'm writing this book. I love it because I feel I can write the Good Folk of Ireland and all its glorious folktales and do it the justice and honesty it deserves. And a plot line hopefully worthy of the heroes of old. But for all of the little nuances that make me Irish, the simple fact that I wasn't raised there poses a problem when it comes to slang and dialect. My own cousins come from County Clare, and arrived in the 60's so other than gaining their accent, I don't know the slang. And I didn't know how Gaelic football (the MOST watched sport in Ireland, by the way) worked until I read the rules today for part of my story. Hell, its not even really going INTO the story, but I need to know it for a character's sake.
Writing is hard. Trying to find things out when you don't have a ton of friends from Ireland to help you with it is even harder. So for next two months despite my Irish heritage and upbringing, I must now GO IRISH. Its that or go home...or you know, to an Irish pub to nurse my wounds like any good Irish girl.
 | |
| Looks like the story of the "Soul Cages" from the worried faces! |
And it was this very childhood and the stories in it that made me silently (or maybe not so silently) rage against the authors who defamed, twisted, and flat out misused the information and stories of the Irish pantheons and storytellers. So slowly, carefully, I crafted a story as only a child born of a storyteller could. I decided to write a book using the true and accurate (to my knowledge and research) stories and folklore. I have always loved where my family came from, I was raised being told repeatedly by my father "Keely, your Irish".
I didn't realize how true that statement was until I went to Ireland. In Southern California where fit bodies, sun tanned leather skin and Blond Hair in a Box rule, I am the odd duck out. I am pale with freckles (mostly gone, but I was really freckled as a child), brownish red hair, and curves that most girls pay heafty sums for here. But I am odd. So when I landed in Ireland and found that every one was as talkative as myself and could spin a story out of their life just like I always did, it made me realize just how culturally 'Irish' my dad had raised me.
I had come home. And if felt wonderful.
So now I'm writing this book. I love it because I feel I can write the Good Folk of Ireland and all its glorious folktales and do it the justice and honesty it deserves. And a plot line hopefully worthy of the heroes of old. But for all of the little nuances that make me Irish, the simple fact that I wasn't raised there poses a problem when it comes to slang and dialect. My own cousins come from County Clare, and arrived in the 60's so other than gaining their accent, I don't know the slang. And I didn't know how Gaelic football (the MOST watched sport in Ireland, by the way) worked until I read the rules today for part of my story. Hell, its not even really going INTO the story, but I need to know it for a character's sake.
Writing is hard. Trying to find things out when you don't have a ton of friends from Ireland to help you with it is even harder. So for next two months despite my Irish heritage and upbringing, I must now GO IRISH. Its that or go home...or you know, to an Irish pub to nurse my wounds like any good Irish girl.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
2012: The Year Of Me
In a recent poll conducted by CNN it was pointed out that while the vast majority of American people had a dismal outlook on the state of their own country and government, they had high hopes and positive views on their own personal lives and goals, which I found very interesting and even hopeful. The reason for this is that it means that while many a man and woman has had trials and tribulations of the variety that 'try men's souls', they still come out the other side being positive. After hearing of this poll and thinking about it I've decided that this year is The Year Of Me.
People are focusing on themselves (and probably even their immediate family and friends), but unless your leaving your toddler on a counter-top near a set of steak knives unsupervised while you do yoga, taking time to really work on yourself is a very beneficial thing. Ever hear the phrase 'if mama ain't happy, ain't no one gonna be happy'? As red neck and simplistic as it sounds, its also very true. Happiness comes from inside and spreads outwards. When your stressed about your job, unhappy with your lot life, angry at your next door neighbor or frustrated over the fact that you can't seem to get rid of your mother in law who constantly pops into your life to offer advice about how to raise your children, your stress passes onto your husband/wife/partner/children and they all suffer because you don't have the patience to help them. So really, in my mind, taking this year to really focus on yourself and take stock of your life is a good thing.
For instance tonight I went ahead and deleted my profile from the numerous dating websites that I had been signed into. I hadn't had too much luck with the site, other than the occasional dating of LA men, and really, the other websites wanted money, and I just don't think a computer should be asking me to pay 19.99 a month for doing little in the way of finding a really good man/woman. And really, what have any of my previous relationships (if you can call them that) offered me? Nothing except heart ache. So this year I'm doing the things I'd avoided doing all of last year. One of them--while not on my resolution list--is to in effect, stop looking for love. If there's one thing I've learned its that love and relationships come either when
a) its the absolutely worst time to meet some one--like say when you are running after a mail truck in pj's that are covered in care bear faces as a very dashing man steps out of an expensive looking car and happens to see said spectacle.
or
b) when you say to yourself "I'm busy with work and goals and don't have time for men" then find yourself suddenly head over heels for person. Why IS that any way!?
My new years resolution isn't a very extensive list, but the articles in it are very important to my life and contribute to the Year Of Me. They are the following:
1) Find an exercise regime and stick to it.
2) Finish my book
3) Find a job/career that I am happy and fulfilled in
4) Travel
That's it. But as I look at the list I realize that if I stick to my guns and I mean really stick to them, my life over the course of the year will certainly improve! I've also decided that I spend waaaaay too much time being annoyed/exasperated and perhaps I even am a little too opinionated. So I will endure to be more sympathetic (which isn't TOO hard of a stretch, I just need to learn to SHUT. MY. MOUTH.) and to simply laugh at the follies of my life rather than be angry at them. As to my career aspirations....honestly I'm still trying to figure that out. My life could go in so many directions at this point, and I'm not sure which direction to go. So for now I'm going to meditate on it while I desperately look for a job that can support me and pay bills.
I don't expect to find any sort of romance this year, rather I think this year is more about making myself better and more into the person I want to be and establishing a career I can be proud and happy of. So, here's crossing my fingers and hoping for the best, because thinking of anything even remotely sad would probably end up with my lying on a floor cuddling a bottle of cherry vodka and trying to force myself to become five again.
Here is to the new year! I hope The Year Of You works out and brings you many needed changes--even if you think you might not need or want them!
People are focusing on themselves (and probably even their immediate family and friends), but unless your leaving your toddler on a counter-top near a set of steak knives unsupervised while you do yoga, taking time to really work on yourself is a very beneficial thing. Ever hear the phrase 'if mama ain't happy, ain't no one gonna be happy'? As red neck and simplistic as it sounds, its also very true. Happiness comes from inside and spreads outwards. When your stressed about your job, unhappy with your lot life, angry at your next door neighbor or frustrated over the fact that you can't seem to get rid of your mother in law who constantly pops into your life to offer advice about how to raise your children, your stress passes onto your husband/wife/partner/children and they all suffer because you don't have the patience to help them. So really, in my mind, taking this year to really focus on yourself and take stock of your life is a good thing.
For instance tonight I went ahead and deleted my profile from the numerous dating websites that I had been signed into. I hadn't had too much luck with the site, other than the occasional dating of LA men, and really, the other websites wanted money, and I just don't think a computer should be asking me to pay 19.99 a month for doing little in the way of finding a really good man/woman. And really, what have any of my previous relationships (if you can call them that) offered me? Nothing except heart ache. So this year I'm doing the things I'd avoided doing all of last year. One of them--while not on my resolution list--is to in effect, stop looking for love. If there's one thing I've learned its that love and relationships come either when
a) its the absolutely worst time to meet some one--like say when you are running after a mail truck in pj's that are covered in care bear faces as a very dashing man steps out of an expensive looking car and happens to see said spectacle.
or
b) when you say to yourself "I'm busy with work and goals and don't have time for men" then find yourself suddenly head over heels for person. Why IS that any way!?
My new years resolution isn't a very extensive list, but the articles in it are very important to my life and contribute to the Year Of Me. They are the following:
1) Find an exercise regime and stick to it.
2) Finish my book
3) Find a job/career that I am happy and fulfilled in
4) Travel
That's it. But as I look at the list I realize that if I stick to my guns and I mean really stick to them, my life over the course of the year will certainly improve! I've also decided that I spend waaaaay too much time being annoyed/exasperated and perhaps I even am a little too opinionated. So I will endure to be more sympathetic (which isn't TOO hard of a stretch, I just need to learn to SHUT. MY. MOUTH.) and to simply laugh at the follies of my life rather than be angry at them. As to my career aspirations....honestly I'm still trying to figure that out. My life could go in so many directions at this point, and I'm not sure which direction to go. So for now I'm going to meditate on it while I desperately look for a job that can support me and pay bills.
I don't expect to find any sort of romance this year, rather I think this year is more about making myself better and more into the person I want to be and establishing a career I can be proud and happy of. So, here's crossing my fingers and hoping for the best, because thinking of anything even remotely sad would probably end up with my lying on a floor cuddling a bottle of cherry vodka and trying to force myself to become five again.
Here is to the new year! I hope The Year Of You works out and brings you many needed changes--even if you think you might not need or want them!
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