From the Ashes

Being an author is hard. The publishing industry is tricky to navigate at the best of times, and with the current climate in small publishing, it can feel utterly impossible to succeed.

I check in with my author groups, and another friend has lost their publisher. A small press has closed, and their whole catalogue of books needs new homes. Less than a month ago, an online book distributor closed and offered to settle all their accounts for ten cents on the dollar.

Those heartbreaks and setbacks can seem insurmountable. Great writers pack it in and choose not to publish anymore because they can’t stand the heartache and seemingly futile struggle. And honestly I can’t blame them. One of my books will soon have been through three publishers. Three times I’ve gleefully accepted a contract; three times I’ve had my heart broken. Part of me wishes I had the temperament to be able to quit. But I don’t. I’m too stubborn. So I’ll push forward and find another way to have that series out there and be grateful I have other projects with other publishers available to keep me from feeling like a complete imposter.

The theme on the blog this month is meant to be “new beginnings.” And I am starting right back from the beginning. I’m not trying to be depressing or to discourage anyone from following her dream of publishing, because it’s not depressing. It’s just the reality in which we find ourselves. It’s culling the herd. Those of us who are left—the ones who have fought through publishers closing, missing royalties, and a seemingly impenetrable market—are phoenixes. We rise from the ashes again and again. Fighting for the next contract and even the next sale with everything we have. And when the world caves in and our dreams again crumble to ash, we rebuild, hoping for something bigger, hoping for something more lasting and productive.

I wish I could say that I think the days of authors being shirked of their royalties and of publishers closing with little more than a Facebook post are over. That I won’t find anymore author friends heartbroken over their newly-homeless books, but I doubt that’s true. Give it a month, and someone else will be fighting their way back up from the bottom.  Some will quit, some will press on, starting from the beginning. Rewriting their blurbs and sending them out with nothing more than hope to keep them moving forward.

The new beginning has been forced upon us, but from the ashes we will continue to rise. Chasing a dream we can’t help but to follow.

Words in a Time of Arms

The world is a mess. It’s a very scary, sometimes violent, place. And it feels like it’s getting worse. I try to comfort myself and say it’s just a matter of media. With smart phone cameras and instant sharing, it’s easier to see the latest horror. Just because we didn’t always have instant upload of violence doesn’t mean it didn’t always exist. But whether the world has become a more violent place or not, you can’t hide from the terror that coats the planet.

Then I sit in my dressing room at the theatre, or finish writing a new chapter in a book, and I wonder how I can be so complacent? In a world where refugees are starving and people are afraid to celebrate their holidays in public, how dare I spend my time doing things as silly as playing the Wicked Witch or writing about magic? I war with myself. Decide to quite all art and join the Peace Corps. But then there’s a moment, a wonderful moment, when I realize that what I do is important.

The moment comes in different ways. An audience member who finds me after a show to tell me that it was the most fun they’ve had in a long time. A reader who says that they stayed up all night to finish a book. When I realize that the undercurrent of the story I’m writing might lead readers to a more compassionate point of view, or make one LGBTQ teen feel like there is another distant person on their side.

What we do as artists – authors, actors, painters, musicians – is important. We are important. Art is important. No, we aren’t doctors. We aren’t saving a bombing victim’s leg or life. We aren’t policemen who put themselves in danger to stop mass shootings. We aren’t creating new laws for a safer tomorrow.

We are the people who distract from the pain. We are the ones who teach without classrooms.

We tell stories that remind us of the past and show what the future has the potential to become. We have voices that people want to listen to. And we can use those voices to tell stories of inclusion, compassion, and the terrible things that happen when we forget the most important things about being human.

It has been said that my generation is less likely to trust the media. There is a theory, and I for one believe it, that it is because J.K. Rowling taught us not to trust The Daily Prophet. Rita Skeeter will say anything for a headline, no matter how untrue the story might be. J.K. Rowling made us think for ourselves, to doubt and to question. She didn’t preach, she just wrote. How magical is that?

Our voices may not be as loud as J.K. Rowling’s, but we as a community of artists and authors can be heard. Our voices are important. Our words are important. And together we might just mold the world into a less frightening place.

A Crying Girl

I’ve been working on a new project that is set to be released later this year. It’s a YA mid-apocalyptic Sci-Fi with chemically-induced vampires and a very human, female protagonist.

I’m really proud of the project. My leading lady – Nola – is one of the few chosen to live out the apocalypse in comfort and safety. But she can’t do it. She can’t watch the pain of the people around her and just keep pretending that everything is fine. Her empathy distinguishes her. She is a loving human in a world where terrible things happen. And she cries.

Not all the time. She never cries because she’s hurt or just can’t rally to keep moving forward. But she cries. When she loses people. When she knows there is nothing else to be done. She also stumbles and falls. She gets hurt and bleeds. All normal things to happen when fighting for your life.

But then I worry. Can I have her get hurt and cry? Will that completely derail her as a strong female? Nola’s training as a botanist, and I’ve already been told more than once that Botany isn’t “a real STEM field.”

So then what do I do for sweet Nola? I want her to be a strong woman; I want her to care and to feel. I need her to want to save the world even if she can’t do it all on her own.

And is fighting without super powers or arrows or a perfect back kick still fighting? Can’t we have a girl who is strong but not a warrior?

I know it seems that, in an age where women fighting is becoming normal, it should be okay to have a book where a girl doesn’t. But by making girls have powers, have we moved to the point that without a sword or dragon you are assumed to be diminishing the power of females?

I don’t have an answer. I don’t know if people will see how strong Nola is and allow her heart to be her largest asset even when it’s breaking. Maybe they’ll call her just another weak girl waiting on a vampire. Only time will tell. But I’m proud of Nola, and until her story goes out into the world that will have to be enough.

Reasonable Research

I lead a very adventurous life. No, I’m not an Olympian or a soldier. I’m an actor with a bad case of wanderlust, a willing husband, and a love of writing. I’m incredibly fortunate to have a job that allows me to travel for work all the time. I’ve spent three summers in Alaska, toured the country on a bus, and right now, I’m performing down in Southwest Florida.

Being able to travel has always been a huge source of inspiration for me. My husband and I managed to run away to Thailand for a few weeks in January, and I came back bursting with so many ideas, I now have the rest of my writing year planned out. But what do you do when beautiful scenery meets an epic idea and the details need to be perfect? Research.

For The Tethering series, the research I did was mostly travel times from one place to another, geography and topography of specific locations, including a nice (and slightly brutal) hike to the top of a mountain, and looking through a lot of legends of magical creatures. Perhaps a little extreme with the hiking through the wilderness, but standard research.

For the ballet novella I released last Christmas, I was able to draw upon the years I spent in pointe shoes and leotards as well as my experience as a professional music theatre performer. And the gaps I needed to fill I pulled from a college classmate who is now a professional ballet dancer.

But the new project, the one that complicates it all, is a little more difficult. I needed to learn about plants, and greenhouses, and conservation, and a dozen other things. Not that I want to describe to my readers exactly how to pollinate plants in a closed environment, but it’s little details like that that solidify world building.

I’ve been to atriums, bio domes, and even the greenhouses of Disney’s Epcot, trying to make sure that the smell is right and the light feels right in the book. And I’ve loved all of it. I will never be a botanist or an architect, and I’ll probably never create my own underground irrigation system. But getting to learn the details of creating suitable environments for exotic plants is so cool! And now I really want to build a vertigrower and grow plants without soil just because it’s possible.

Maybe somewhere deep down I already knew that sustainable living within a bio dome was a fascinating subject and that’s why the story came out. Maybe greenhouses are just super cool. But having the opportunity to research a new field or world is one of the greatest things about being an author. Even if it’s just a fantasy, I can create a greenhouse for my characters to live in. And I have a new obsession that may eventually turn edible-hobby to boot!

A Writer's Community

My name is Megan O’Russell, and I am thrilled to join the YATopia team! I couldn’t be happier to be added the ranks of the wonderful authors and editors who contribute to this blog.

Since I’ve never posted on this blog before, let me tell you a little bit about me. I am the author of the young adult fantast series The Tethering. The first and second books in the series, The Tethering and The Siren’s Realm, are both currently available from Silence in the Library Publishing. On the adult side of writing, I have a Christmas sweet romance novella Nuttycracker Sweet coming out December 8^th from Fiery Seas Publishing. I’ve had the honor and pleasure of being included in some really fun anthologies and even got to be the video spokeswoman for Athena’s Daughters II, an anthology that focused on women in speculative fiction.

Aside from spending loads of time clacking away on my keyboard writing stories, I am also a professional musical theatre performer and as of this year even a lyricist! I love writing, and I love being onstage. I basically spend my work time either pretending to be other people or creating other people. It’s amazing.

But writing and acting don’t always go hand in hand. Being a writer, my actual time at the keyboard can be very flexible. If I have rehearsals for a show, I can rearrange my writing time, and no one but the characters in my stories and my conscience will ever know. But being a writer is a lot easier if you have writer friends. Networking is hugely useful, not only for staying in touch with what the latest trends to embrace or avoid are, but also for super important things like finding a literary agent or meeting up with people who might have an anthology you could contribute to.

As an actor, the only time I have a weekend off is when I’m between shows. Since I do short run productions, things like asking for a weekend off to go to a writer’s conference isn’t really a thing. And luckily I’m employed consistently enough that I’ve never actually made it to a writer’s conference, though, believe me, I would jump if I found one on a Monday! When I realized that in-person networking was fairly out of reach, I was devastated. I was the lonely kid at the junior high dance hiding in the shadows while everyone else took selfies with their friends to be their new profile picture.

But then I discovered a wonderful online community of writers, editors, artists, and publishers who welcomed me into their groups with open arms. Now granted, actually getting to sit down and have a cup of coffee with someone isn’t nearly as good as participating in a tweet chat with them, but it’s something.

I started out in a Facebook group with people from my first, and tragically failed, publisher. But the friends I made in that group led me to both of my current publishers and even to this blog! Participating in online author chats and even volunteering for cover reveals and street teams can be a great way to start up a conversation with fellow authors. And who knows where those conversations could lead?

I’m not saying that all Facebooks groups for authors are great. I’ve been in a few that have self-imploded in ways that even Jerry Springer would find hard to believe. But if you, like me, can’t make it to the RT conference this year, or go to one of those super cool learn how cop things work weekends that always make me green with envy when I see tweets of, reach out to the online community of writers. You might be surprised how many people will greet you with open cyber arms.

Here are a few hashtags to check out and groups to look up. Just because authors work alone with their computers doesn’t mean we don’t need a community.

Check out #WO2016. This is for authors who are Waiting On 2016 for their books to come out. It’s a great way to remember that you are not alone in you pre-release stress, freak outs, and joys.

The #Awethors is a great Indie group that loves to do write storms, beta read for each other, and just provide authorly companionship.

This YATopia blog has great information for authors and even a section on agents who are accepting submissions.

Find a group that isn’t looking to only sell you their books. Be a consistent member, and see how many friends you can make.

It’s amazing the wonderful writers you can meet from right in your living room.