In the random thoughts part of the podcast we talk about Big Foot, wedgies and how you can tell when predators are looking at you.
THREE BIG STEPS TO LEARN HOW TO WRITE GOOD STUFF
There’s a lot of people out there who say that if you write every day you’ll become a better writer and that’s true … sort of. You also need the basics.
If you write every day, but you don’t learn about writing every day then you don’t get to improve. You just write.
And that’s not good enough.
Learning how to write has to do with a few things. And the first step is to know what you want to write.
FIGURE OUT WHAT YOU’RE INTO
Writing an epic fantasy isn’t the same as writing ad copy and that’s not the same as writing poetry. Pick something. It doesn’t have to be your only style, but pick one way first.
LEARN THE TOOLS
Now here’s the fun part. The learning. How do you learn how to write?
Enroll in courses.
Read things like what you want to write.
Watch blogs, listen to podcasts, and read books about craft.
Talk to other writers who do what you do. They might have cool resources too.
Hire a writing coach or editor who loves helping people and not just loves making money.
GO FOR THE GRAMMAR
Yeah. Yeah. We know. Periods aren’t sexy. Most people don’t get turned on by scene structure, but you should!
If your story is awesome, but there is no punctuation or grammar or even sentences?
You’re not going to be understandable to your potential readers. They are just going to stop reading.
AND we have a writing tips podcast called WRITE BETTER NOW! It’s taking a bit of a hiatus, but there are a ton of tips over there.
We have a podcast, LOVING THE STRANGE, which we stream biweekly live on Carrie’s Facebook and Twitter and YouTube on Fridays. Her Facebook and Twitter handles are all carriejonesbooks or carriejonesbook. But she also has extra cool content focused on writing tips here.
Carrie is reading one of her raw poems every once in awhile on CARRIE DOES POEMS. And there you go! Whew! That’s a lot!
If you like what you read, please heart it below or share it, it means the world to this writer. x0- Carrie
Share this if you want and also because it would be super nice of you!
I realized that I pretty much never post about bookish things on here, which is very bad in terms of marketing and things like that.
Grover: Cawwie, people will not buy books if they forget you’re a writer, you doofus. You can’t just post dog photos ALL THE TIME.
But before I am a writing coach and editor and even a podcaster, I’m a writer. I’ve been writing my whole life. It may have been poems or magazine pieces about cancer drugs or horses or newspaper articles about sports teams or land use ordinances and columns. It may have been YA or picture books or middle grade or even adult things.
Always. Always, I’ve been a writer. And even if I’m never published again (gasp) that won’t stop.
So, I’m going to remind myself about that a bit, and hopefully remind you, too!
A Baby Novella
I have a short novella coming out on Amazon really soon. I’ll tell you more about that at the end of the week, but for today? Here’s an excerpt of something I’m working on, so we can all remember I’m a writer. 🙂
The History of Hate
Colton
December of his and Anna’s Senior Year
Anna,
I don’t know where you are, or how to reach you, but I’m still writing you these letters. If you ever actually get them, the first thing you’ll probably wonder is why I’m writing you. The thing is, I don’t think I have a choice. I think I have to explain all this to you, whether you want to know or not, whether you want to hear it or not, whether you want to touch this, touch me, have me touch you. Or not.
I just have to explain and then maybe?
Maybe? I don’t know.
Love,
Colton
THE BEGINNING
Anna
February, Junior Year
What’s it take to rock an election?
It takes a good tagline.
It takes an asshole opponent, excuse my French.
It takes a narcissist, a cult leader, a come-to-Jesus moment. It takes that damn feeling of hope or vengeance.
It takes random people like me helping you and believing in you somehow even though we’ve been hurt by so many others we’ve believed in before.
Every four years all the presidential hopefuls come to Manchester, New Hampshire, the former mill-yard city next to my suburban town and they hope for magic to happen, for the New Hampshire hills and frost to lead them down a lucky road to an election win. The journalists and volunteers follow the candidates around, creating a surge in restaurant sales, filling up hotel rooms and parking lots. News vans with their little satellite dishes take up the parking spaces on the downtown streets. Sometimes candidates and even sitting-presidents come speak at my high school. They prance through the mall, shaking hands, while entourages stroll behind them looking like clumps of suits. Our more politically-motivated parents host parties and fundraisers. Cocktails are made. Hands are shaken. Position papers are recycled.
I always volunteer for some candidate, usually someone that doesn’t have a chance in hell of winning. It’s been like this since kindergarten. I get addicted to helping, to holding signs, sending out campaign mailers, making phone calls to those people who still actually answer their phones.
Dad says I’m a do-gooder.
Mom says I have a savior complex.
I don’t know if either of them are right, really. I just want to make a difference, you know? To believe in something bigger than romance and good grades and getting into college. And it’s exciting to be part of it. This year is no different. I can’t vote yet, which is ridiculous because most of the people I call from the phone bank have no clue about anything other than celebrity gossip, Fox News, let alone read an actual position paper. I meet campaign workers, make friends that I’ll only keep up with on social media and never see again.
But this year is super different because I meet him. Colton Hardy. And I’m so afraid of losing people, more people, that I don’t know how to actually deal with gaining one, you know? It’s like I’m afraid to make friends or fall in love because it’s just one more person I could possibly lose. I’m tired of grief.
But I’m standing on the corner of Elm and Maple streets, a totally prime spot because of downtown traffic and the wide safe sidewalks. I’m not holding an actual sign because I’ve put one on my dog Freya, which says Barkin’ for Larkin. She looks adorable. She’s large, white, furry and fluffy and the sign is on both sides of her. Despite her 120 pounds, she’s chill. People laugh, honk and wave. She wags at them and smiles.
“Brilliant,” says one of the guys standing with me. Art is nerdy and always wears J. Crew mixed with L.L. Bean. He normally goes to NYU but he took the semester off to campaign. “You’re made for this. I can’t believe you’re just a junior.”
“I don’t know what to say.” I dip my boot in the tiny snowbank at the edge of the sidewalk. The snow’s gone from happy and fluffy whiteness to crusty and gray.
“Thank you?” he suggests, using his free hand to pull his hat down over his ears. It’s cold out here. The other hand holds a campaign sign.
“Thank you.”
“Perfect.” He laughs.
I think he’s flirting but trying not to flirt because he’s in college and I’m still in high school and that’s a decidedly weird age dynamic, but I’m not into him anyways. I’m way more intrigued by the guy standing on the opposite street corner trying to hawk some posters that he’s obviously made himself. He’s young, too, like me—or at least he isn’t older-guy creepy and he has this weird, tall-confident vibe and a southern drawl that I can occasionally catch while he’s selling his merchandise. He’s so charismatic that people actually buy his posters and hug him afterwards.
The thing is that this guy also keeps looking at us and when there’s a lull in traffic he strides across the four lanes of Elm Street and right up to me.
“Hey.” His blue eyes are warm.
“Hi.”
“I’m Colton Hardy.” He reaches out a hand to shake. I take it. Ignoring everyone else, he bends down to pet Freya. She wags her tail. “Your dog is beautiful.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m selling posters,” he says. “Obviously.”
“I’m so sorry, but I don’t have any money.”
His mouth drops open and he stands up straight again, towering over me. “No! No. I was going to give you one for free, but … I? Well, I don’t think our political beliefs align.”
His whole body shivers for a second, poor guy. The tops of his ears are bright red. His voice is made of a silk that seems bordered with coffee and the pattern of his sounds are composed of fluid shapes, each containing this promise that seems to inspire trust, but despite all the cliched butterflies in my stomach, I am not a person who trusts because when you look closely at people you notice that they are made of pain and anger and garish wants, like bad TikTok posts that hit you over the head with their need to be seen, to be noticed, to be important.
“Our political beliefs don’t align? That doesn’t matter. That’s so nice of you. Free. Thank you.” I take the poster which is all about ways liberals and conservatives can come together, making fun of both sides. “You look cold. Do you even have a hat?”
“I’m from Alabama,” he says like that explains everything, which I guess it does and it doesn’t.
One of the women I’m with groans. This campaign has not been the best for human rights or America, honestly. One of the leading candidates says sexist, racist things constantly. The South is becoming a hotbed for liberals like me to hate on, which I get because of the confederate flag and the Jefferson Davis monuments and everything, but racists aren’t just in the South, sexists aren’t just running for president, homophobes aren’t just in one region of the country. They’re everywhere and I hate thinking that I’m going to generalize about an entire state or region the way that I don’t want others to hold bigoted notions about women or sexuality or religion or race or ability.
So, I do something stupid and when he asks me if I want to go out and get some food this weekend, I say yes.
We exchange numbers and he trots back to his corner, smiling. Freya gives him a bark goodbye and everyone I’m with starts muttering about how that was a stupid move.
“He’s harmless,” I say, trying to ignore that magic buzz of butterflies in my stomach, flapping their colorful wings into patterns of hope.
College Guy Art goes, all knowingly, “No man is harmless.”
“You’re a man,” I tell him and he crumples, laughing, because it’s like he forgot.
We all laugh with him as the first text from Colton comes in. It says, I can’t wait.
I close my eyes, try to see if the butterflies in my stomach are good or not and I almost imagine I can hear my dead niece’s voice whisper, “Oh, Anna. Not again. Seriously?”
There you go! Tell me what you think if you’ve read it! I hope you’re all doing well. There is so info behind the jump about ways you can support me. xo – Carrie
It’s Be Brave Friday and I’m trying to be brave and post a little painting.
Be Brave Friday usually features art because I have a lot of negative scripts in my mind from my childhood and my mom insisting that nobody in our family had ‘an artistic bone in their body.’ She was a lovely mom! She just… I was a kid who listened to those sorts of things and even though art was my favorite thing to do? Well, I figured she was right.
One of the first steps in being brave is acknowledging your fear so I should probably admit what I’m afraid of (in a personal sense not a world sense)
1. Not doing enough to help the world
2. Actually hurting instead of helping
3. Sucking at things but thinking I’m good at them.
4. Showing art (You all know that).
5. Not being there when the people I love need me.
6. Not being a writer anymore.
How about you? How are you feeling? Being brave? Admitting what you’re afraid of? I’m rooting for you. You’ve got this.
BRAVE THING I’M DOING
Pretty soon, I’m going to have a Teachable class all about the scene. It’s going to be pretty cheap and hopefully you’ll sign up and like it. You can also get access if you sign up for the $5 level for my Patreon. That link is behind the jump.
Admitting that your anxious, afraid, upset? That’s called being honest. Being honest isn’t weakness no matter how many people might try to deny your truths and tell you that it is.
Being honest is being brave.
Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines bravery as: “the quality or state of having or showing mental or moral strength to face danger, fear, or difficulty; the quality or state of being brave; courage.”
I know you are all being brave in big a ways and small, facing danger, fear, difficulties and I so admire you.
Act with love not fear, okay?
Create safe spaces for yourself and for others. Be a warrior about it. Be a love warrior. A bravery warrior. You can do this.
Here is my painting for BE BRAVE FRIDAY. The oil is still wet. But you’ll forgive me, right? It is still terribly hard for me to share these whenever I do, I feel like I’m about to explode into flames.
<3 So much love to all of you.
WHERE TO FIND OUR PODCAST, DOGS ARE SMARTER THAN PEOPLE
I have a new book out!!!!!! It’s an adult mystery set in the town where we live, which is Bar Harbor, Maine. You can order it here. And you totally should.
It’s with Steve Wedel. It’s scary and one of Publisher’s Weekly’s Buzz Books for Summer 2019. There’s an excerpt of it there and everything! But even cooler (for me) they’ve deemed it buzz worthy! Buzz worthy seems like an awesome thing to be deemed!
Share this if you want and also because it would be super nice of you!
I don’t want to pretend to be someone I’m not. That’s a form of lying to me. I’d rather be honest and raw than polished and fake. I prefer honey over white sugar.
Because I have social anxiety and I’m super open about my fears and vulnerabilities, a lot people think I’m not confident and tell me to not sell-myself-short of be self-deprecating. I know that they’re only trying to be kind, but their mindset about authenticity and confidence is not the same as mine, which seems to be something I have to explain a lot.
I actually once had an editor who told me, “Carrie, you are the weirdest mix of incredibly confident and secure and insecure that I’ve ever met.”
I took that as a compliment.
And other people have told me, “You are amazing. Don’t present as insecure! Know your power! You are hurting yourself by showing the world who you are.”
Which is kind of them because I know they’re trying to be helpful, but the thing is that I don’t want to pretend to be someone I’m not. That’s a form of lying to me. I’d rather be honest and raw than polished and fake. I prefer honey over white sugar.
Being Open About Insecurities is Cool
I’m lucky. I’m secure enough to be open about being insecure. Weird, right? It shouldn’t be. I know I’m flawed – so flawed – but I’m okay with it because people are supposed to be flawed. We’re supposed to grow and mess up and make mistakes and ask forgiveness and forgive. We’re supposed to put the silverware in the dishwasher the wrong way and accidentally put our shirts on backwards.
So I embrace my lacks and goofs and imperfections. With my slurred s’s and my total lack of depth perception, I’ve never had a chance to present myself to the world as perfect. I’m too busy walking into doors and people and walls.
I know! This is not a culture that likes imperfections. We bully people for their difference. We call them names on social media and in real life. We all present the nicest, most filtered photos of ourselves doing the nicest, most acceptable things.
Embracing your failures and your lacks can seem like a fool’s journey, but here’s the thing: the fools have the most fun. I hope you’ll be a fool with me.
People Pretend
People pretend. A lot of us pretend we’re secure. And usually it’s the loudest, most seemingly confident people who are the least secure.
They boast. They tend to guffaw. They have loud voices. They hide themselves behind fancy toys and clothes and cars. It’s their costumes to get through life. And that’s so sad because I don’t want anyone to have a costume. The fool’s journey, my journey, is so much more fun. Laughing at your mistakes is a lot happier than dealing with the constant pressure to be perfect, to be constantly awesome.
Truly confident people? They don’t need the costumes and the accessories. They can have them of course, but they don’t need them and that’s a big difference. They embrace their fool. They fangirl and fanboy over all sorts of random things. They collect toenail clippers or memes about dolphins or whatever. They allow their feelings to be real and their dreams to be known. They wear whatever they want to wear – what feels like them.
Clothes Don’t Make the Person
All my life, I’ve been teased for my clothes and I don’t care, but I use those moments to understand other people and their insecurities.
I went on a date with a man once. I thought we were just having lunch. I didn’t realize that we were on an actual date date because I am clueless about things like that. It was way below freezing. I had to walk to get to the restaurant. Imagine walking in 18-degree weather and there is a sea wind gusting down an almost abandoned street. Even the clams were hiding. I was layered. So layered.
I got there and the man, a banker, looked at me and said, “You look homeless.”
Nice way to create a hierarchy of worth, right? But he didn’t care that I looked a bit over-layered. He still liked me. What he cared about that he was with someone who wasn’t looking snazzy. I was insulted. I felt badly for him because that’s a whole lot of insecure.
Let’s just say that we were not meant to be.
Clothes Don’t Make a Person
Once when I was a first-year college student I visited my boyfriend’s family in Manhatten for New Year’s. His mom immediately tried to buy me new clothes. She was terrified that I wouldn’t fit in. I didn’t. I was an absolute bumpkin from New Hampshire who wore pastels from K-Mart in a world of black designer clothes. We went to one of my boyfriend’s fancy friend’s house for a New Year’s Eve party and her dad, a famous food critic and writer, looked at me in my pink cashmere sweater and said, “Oh, honey. Where are you even from?”
I stared into the sea of black cocktail dresses and sports jackets and said, “New Hampshire?”
He nodded. “Makes sense.”
I went in there, everyone gawped at me. I smiled and eventually everyone was too drunk to notice that I was pastel in a sea of mourning. It was a good time.
Random Movie Quote
In the movie American Gangster Denzel Washington’s character says to his really well-dressed kid brother,
“That. What you got on. That’s a very, very, very nice suit? That’s a clown suit. That’s a costume. With a big sign on it that says, ‘Arrest Me.’ You understand? You’re too loud. You’re making too much noise. Look at me: The loudest one in the room is the weakest one in the room.”
American Gangster
That’s true about standing out to cops, but it’s also true about confidence.
Anecdote About My Hobbit Dad
My sweet little hobbit dad was a truck driver and spent his whole life thinking he was dumb because he didn’t get past second grade. Dyslexic, he was the smartest man I knew. With his pants falling off his bum, and his low-key attitude, would talk to presidential nominees, poets, scientists, servers, cabbies, the greeter at Wal-Mart. He talked to everyone and anyone, asking them insightful, poignant questions that went right to the heart of who they were.
Despite his insecurities, he was confident in who he was – that essential part of his nature and soul – and he gave off the vibe of being authentic and real and confident because he didn’t know how to be anything else. He approached everyone as if they were a potential friend, but more than that . . . he approached everyone like they were a quality human being.
To be confident you have to do a few things and practice doing them:
Embrace your anxieties, your perceived flaws. Know that everyone else you see has them too.
Practice being confident. How do you do that? Practice being okay with who you are.
Embrace the fool in you and abolish the perfectionist. Practice this, too. Do things that you’re afraid to do.
Approach the world with an outlook of potential instead of paranoia.
All of that boils down to one tip:
Be real. Be who you really are.
I hope you’ll go on this fool’s journey with me, being more fully okay with who you are, showing the world your spirit and personality, perceived flaws and all.
I just released a book on Amazon and it’s an adult mystery and I’m in love with it. You should read it. It’s an adventure.
Gabby The Dog, Wisdom for Monday
Hundreds of beings can smell one rose bush.
The roses keep on creating scent. Love is like that. So is contentment.
Sharing your joy & kindness never lessens it. And you deserve to share in its smells. Smells are good. Dogs know.
The podcast link if you don’t see it above. Plus, it’s everywhere like Apple Music, iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, and more. Just google, “DOGS ARE SMARTER THAN PEOPLE PODCAST” then like and subscribe.
THIS IS WHAT IT’S ABOUT
Rosie Jones, small town reporter and single mom, is looking forward to her first quiet Maine winter with her young daughter, Lily. After a disastrous first marriage, she’s made a whole new life and new identities for her and her little girl. Rosie is more than ready for a winter of cookies, sledding, stories about planning board meetings, and trying not to fall in like with the local police sergeant, Seamus Kelley.
But after her car is tampered with and crashes into Sgt. Kelley’s cruiser during a blizzard, her quiet new world spirals out of control and back into the danger she thought she’d left behind. One of her new friends is murdered. She herself has been poisoned and she finds a list of anagrams on her dead friend’s floor.
As the killer strikes again, it’s obvious that the women of Bar Harbor aren’t safe. Despite the blizzard and her struggle to keep her new identity a secret, Rosie sets out to make sure no more women die. With the help of the handsome but injured Sgt. Kelley and the town’s firefighters, it’s up to Rosie to stop the murderer before he strikes again.
It’s with Steve Wedel. It’s scary and one of Publisher’s Weekly’s Buzz Books for Summer 2019. There’s an excerpt of it there and everything! But even cooler (for me) they’ve deemed it buzz worthy! Buzz worthy seems like an awesome thing to be deemed!
Order this bad boy, which might make it have a sequel. The sequel would be amazing. Believe me, I know. It features caves and monsters and love. Because doesn’t every story?
Last week, I was in Georgia helping my daughter who had surgery. She’s totally fine! Thanks to everyone for asking.
While I was there, I had an epiphany. Ever since Book Expo America in 2011 or 2009 or something when I had this ridiculously long signing line, I’ve been thinking, “This is it. This is the top of my career. It will never get better than this.”
And I said it.
And my editor at the time was like, “Yeah. Probably.”
I love her, by the way.
I was a New York Times bestseller and an international bestseller and I didn’t know what else to do. Because I am one of those over thinkers, I can think two ways about this.
I can be fine with it because holy crud, I got to be a NYT bestseller. Someone bit someone else in line because they wanted my book. Someone committed assault for my book! Which is so wrong, but kind of an honor.
I can not be fine with it because I am achievement oriented and don’t want to peak already.
These two possibilities have been fighting inside my consciousness for so long and they are pretty self defeating. So, in Georgia I had this epiphany.
There are four things I want in my life that don’t involve my family being safe and happy and all that.
To write stories and share them people.
To paint.
To not worry about money all the time so I can do #1 and #2 in a happy way.
To make the world a tiny bit better and make people a tiny bit happier with themselves.
So, I realized that my goals don’t have to be about achievement. They can be about stability and contentment, about balance and love.
And that’s okay.
(Although, to be fair, as I’m writing this, I teared up so I probably have some work to do on that still.) You can insert an ironic smiley-faced emoji here if you want.
Here are the things I’m doing right now and if you’d like to learn with me or buy my book or subscribe to our goofy podcast? That would be amazing. It’s nice to be on a journey with friends.
LEARN WITH ME AT THE WRITING BARN!
The Write. Submit. Support. format is designed to embrace all aspects of the literary life. This six-month course will offer structure and support not only to our writing lives but also to the roller coaster ride of submissions: whether that be submitting to agents or, if agented, weathering the submissions to editors. We will discuss passes that come in, submissions requests, feedback we aren’t sure about, where we are feeling directed to go in our writing lives, and more. Learn more here!
“Carrie’s feedback is specific, insightful and extremely helpful. She is truly invested in helping each of us move forward to make our manuscripts the best they can be.”
“Carrie just happens to be one of those rare cases of extreme talent and excellent coaching.”
Write. Submit. Support’s Mission: To empower writers, pre-published or published, as well as the instructor, to embrace the many joys and challenges of leading a literary life.
WSS for Novelists will meet February 2, March 8, April 5, May 3, June 7, and June 28, 2020.
Last week there was a bit of a video about it. I wasn’t there for the questions and answers because of Em’s operation, but the Writing Barn founder was.
I’m about to publish a super cool adult novel. Gasp! I know! Adult! That’s so …. grown-up? It is a mystery. It is romantic. It has death. It has Maine.
The Places We Hide by Carrie Jones
I have a new book coming out!
Rosie Jones, small town reporter and single mom, is looking forward to her first quiet Maine winter with her young daughter, Lily. After a disastrous first marriage, she’s made a whole new life and new identities for her and her little girl. Rosie is more than ready for a winter of cookies, sledding, stories about planning board meetings, and trying not to fall in like with the local police sergeant, Seamus Kelley.
But after her car is tampered with and crashes into Sgt. Kelley’s cruiser during a blizzard, her quiet new world spirals out of control and back into the danger she thought she’d left behind. One of her new friends is murdered. She herself has been poisoned and she finds a list of anagrams on her dead friend’s floor.
As the killer strikes again, it’s obvious that the women of Bar Harbor aren’t safe. Despite the blizzard and her struggle to keep her new identity a secret, Rosie sets out to make sure no more women die. With the help of the handsome but injured Sgt. Kelley and the town’s firefighters, it’s up to Rosie to stop the murderer before he strikes again.
So, um, please go buy it. I am being brave, but that means that despite all my reasons for doing this and my epiphany, I’m still terrified that nobody will buy it and I really, really love this book. A lot.
Share this if you want and also because it would be super nice of you!
So, I’m back in the camper for the summer because we rent out our hosts to tourists every year. Well, it’s the second year, that almost makes it every year, right?
To put this in perspective, we have two dogs, one obese cat, two humans (occasionally three) in this tiny camper from the 1980s. We painted it white so it wasn’t as depressing, but let me tell you, painting things white doesn’t make anything actually bigger.
Anyways, I was trying to quickly make a camper video about dialogue and I failed completely. Here it is below. Don’t judge too harshly.
If you don’t want to die from secondhand embarrassment let me sum it up for you. The takeaway from this video is meant to be people react to different things in different ways. People speak in different ways. Show this in your dialogue. Think of how your mom talks, your bestie, your avo, the lady at the bar, your rabbi. Not everyone talks the same. Think of how they all react to one simple situation like a rat popping out of the garbage bin in the kitchen. It wouldn’t all be the same, right? Respect and embrace that difference and show it in your story.
WRITING NEWS
IN THE WOODS – READ AN EXCERPT, PREORDER NOW!
My next book, IN THE WOODS, appears in July with Steve Wedel. It’s scary and one of Publisher’s Weekly’s Buzz Books for Summer 2019. There’s an excerpt of it there and everything! But even cooler (for me) they’ve deemed it buzz worthy! Buzz worthy seems like an awesome thing to be deemed!
You can preorder this bad boy, which might make it have a sequel. The sequel would be amazing. Believe me, I know. It features caves and monsters and love. Because doesn’t every story?
You can get exclusive content, early podcasts, videos, art and listen (or read) never-to-be-officially published writings of Carrie on her Patreon. Levels go from $1 to $100 (That one includes writing coaching and editing for you wealthy peeps).
A lot of you might be new to Patreon and not get how it works. That’s totally cool. New things can be scary, but there’s a cool primer HERE that explains how it works. The short of it is this: You give Patreon your paypal or credit card # and they charge you whatever you level you choose at the end of each month. That money supports me sharing my writing and art and podcasts and weirdness with you.
Share this if you want and also because it would be super nice of you!
It’s a cooking blog redone. Why? Because I’ve been working for over 12 hours and I’m not done.
Yes, folks. I’m dialing it in. My apologies!
So, I am a bit down lately, mostly because:
I am a writer
I live in the U.S.
Politics
I gave up and am giving you all this – the Black Bean Soup that Reflects the State of My Inner Soul Right This Second Because I am DIRE.
Yeah.
Black Bean Soup Because The World Sucks
Sometimes the world sucks and you need a dark soup to match your feelings. Am I right?
This is a new version of a black bean soup I wrote about before. You can never have enough black bean soup recipes. Can you?
3 tbsp olive or vegetable oil
2 whole onions (chopped)
6 whole garlic cloves (chopped/pressed)
3 ribs celery (chopped)
1 whole carrot (chopped)
5 tsp cumin
.5 tsp red pepper flakes or hot sauce (to taste really)
60 oz black beans (canned, drained)
2 tsp lime juice
.5 cup cilantro (optional, to taste)
Heatolive oil in soup pot over medium heat.
Stare at it until it shimmers.
Remember when you used to shimmer.
Sigh dramatically.
Throw in the onions, celery and carrot.
Sigh again because honestly? What is the point.
Put in salt, blood pressure be damned.
Stir once in awhile. Eventually the vegetable will get soft.
“Eventually” is 10 to 15 minutes. This is a much shorter ‘eventually’ than when waiting for your editor to return your email. But whatever.
Add in the smelly things – garlic, cumin and red pepper flakes.
Wonder if you’re a smelly thing? When did you last bathe? Was it before 2018? Join the club.
Cook until things smell more than you do – 30 seconds.
It’s time for the dark soul part of this soup. You are miserable, aren’t you? Yes, writer you are.
Add beans. Add broth.
Put the heat on medium high and watch it simmer. Reduce it so it only simmers gently. If only YOU were simmering gently, but honestly? The state of the world makes you SIMMER INTO ROARING, doesn’t it? Yes. Yes. It does.
Soup is not you though. So simmer GENTLY for 30 minutes, or else it will boil over and stick to the pot and believe me, you do not have the emotional reserves to deal with that mess.
Put about 4 cups into a blender (make sure not to overload your blender because it is hot and you will get burned and you probably don’t have the medical insurance to deal with that if you are an American writer).
Blend carefully.
You can also use a hot-pink immersion blender if you are tired of the darkness of this soup, your soul, and this world.
JUST BE CAREFUL!
Put the blended stuff back in the soup pot. Mix. Add in cilantro, lime juice, salt and pepper.
Sigh.
Eat it.
Sigh more.
Man Verdict – It tastes sad.
Dog Verdict – Isn’t this not good for dogs?
My Verdict – Yep. Uh-huh.
WRITING NEWS
ENHANCED, the follow-up to FLYING is here! And the books are out of this world. Please buy them and support a writer.
The last TIME STOPPERS BOOK is out and I love it. You should buy it because it’s empowering and about friendship and bias and magic. Plus, dragons and elves.
How to Get Signed Copies:
If you would like to purchase signed copies of my books, you can do so through the awesome Sherman’s Book Store in Bar Harbor, Maine or the amazing Briar Patch. The books are also available online at places like Amazon and Barnes & Noble.
For signed copies – email barharbor@shermans.com for Sherman’s or email info@briarpatchbooks.comand let them know the titles in which you are interested. There’s sometimes a waiting list, but they are the best option. Plus, you’re supporting an adorable local bookstore run by some really wonderful humans. But here’s the Amazon link, too!
Art Stuff
You can buy prints of my art here. Thank you so much for supporting my books and me and each other. I hope you have an amazing day.
A new episode of Dogs are Smarter Than People, the quirky podcast with writing tips, life tips and a random thought came out yesterday! Check it out, like and subscribe!
Share this if you want and also because it would be super nice of you!
You write books for readers. You shouldn’t hate your readers or think you’re better than them and yet…?
This is one of those blog entries you regret later, but I don’t care. I’ll erase it tomorrow morning if I get terribly regretful.
On a forum for Children’s book writers, a long time ago, a fellow student wrote, “Kids are morons.”
I had a really hard time with that.
Why?
Because that statement is just so wrong on so many levels.
1. It’s bigoted. Why do people think it’s okay to write bigoted statements about kids? Why is this somehow more acceptable than writing a bigoted statement about gender, race, religion, sexual orientation, class. I know. I know. People do say bigoted statements about all of those things, too. But it seems like no one at all notices when the bigotry is against kids.
2. This person who said that “kids are morons” is a children’s book writer. HOW WRONG IS THIS? YES! I AM SHOUTING! Talk about a total disrespect for your client. How condescending. How not to market yourself. Can you imagine if a congressman openly said, “All voters are morons.” Or if a singer said, “Everyone who listens to my songs is an idiot.” They’d be getting a lot of votes and downloads.
3. It’s also wrong because it’s a blanket statement. It’s the classic bigotry set-up. Show difference (Kids are not adults). Make differences bad (Kids have less life experience than adults). Make the other group lesser (Kids are morons).
It’s bigger than kids
This is obviously bigger than just a kids book writer hating on kids. It’s about generalizations and not realizing that you can’t make a blanket statement of any category of people because of their demographics. All 15-year-old kids from Maine are not the same. All 47-year-old men from Seattle are not the same.
When we make blanket statements that are full of derision we hurt ourselves and others. We miss out on how cool other people are, but we also add to the amount of stupidity and hate in the world.
As writers, we’re supposed to understand difference, character, choices and actions. We’re supposed to be able to create stories that resonate with multiple truths, not just our own. It’s suppose to be about empathy, responsibility and story. Not judgement and derision.
I’m wandering off to grumble now.
WRITING AND OTHER NEWS
IN THE WOODS – READ AN EXCERPT, PREORDER NOW!
My next book, IN THE WOODS, appears in July with Steve Wedel. It’s scary and one of Publisher’s Weekly’s Buzz Books for Summer 2019. There’s an excerpt of it there and everything! But even cooler (for me) they’ve deemed it buzz worthy! Buzz worthy seems like an awesome thing to be deemed!
You can preorder this bad boy, which might make it have a sequel. The sequel would be amazing. Believe me, I know. It features caves and monsters and love. Because doesn’t every story?
HEAR MY BOOK BABY (AND MORE) ON PATREON
On February first, I launched my Patreon site where I’m be reading chapters (in order) of a never-published teen fantasy novel, releasing deleted scenes and art from some of my more popular books. And so much more. Come hang out with me! Get cool things!
WHAT IS PATREON?
A lot of you might be new to Patreon and not get how it works. That’s totally cool. New things can be scary, but there’s a cool primer HERE that explains how it works. The short of it is this: You give Patreon your paypal or credit card # and they charge you whatever you level you choose at the end of each month. That money supports me sharing my writing and art and podcasts and weirdness with you.
HELP US AND DO AN AWESOME GOOD DEED
Thanks to all of you who keep listening to our weirdness on the DOGS ARE SMARTER THAN PEOPLE podcast as we talk about random thoughts, writing advice and life tips. We’re sorry we laugh so much… sort of. Please share it and subscribe if you can. Please rate and like us if you are feeling kind, because it matters somehow. There’s a new episode every Tuesday!
BE A PART OF THE PODCAST!
Hey! If you download the Anchor application, you can call into the podcast, record a question, or just say ‘hi,’ and we’ll answer. You can be heard on our podcast! Sa-sweet!
No question is too wild. But just like Shaun does, try not to swear, okay?
Anyone who knows me, knows that I am not the best person to live in a climate that has winter.
I develop anxiety every night – just this slow-roll that starts at 8 p.m. and ends when I finally fall asleep. It’s like a constant hum of, “YOU WILL DIE SOON. HUMANS ARE MORTAL. THE NIGHT IS DARK AND SO IS YOUR FUTURE. MUAH-HA-HA-HA.”
Then I wake up. I’m fine. I look at the world of white and it starts again. If a psychiatrist ever looked at the use of ‘snow’ and ‘cold’ as imagery in my books they’d be like, “Yo, this writer has a vendetta against cold.”
And the above recipe? It was my attempt to trick my brain into summer-time thoughts. Did it work?
Man Verdict: This would be amazing with alcohol.
Dogs’ Verdict: This would be amazing with dog treats dipped inside. Where is the box of dog treats?
My Verdict: There is still snow outside, but inside of me is tropical.
WRITING AND OTHER NEWS
IN THE WOODS – READ AN EXCERPT, PREORDER NOW!
My next book, IN THE WOODS, appears in July with Steve Wedel. It’s scary and one of Publisher’s Weekly’s Buzz Books for Summer 2019. There’s an excerpt of it there and everything! But even cooler (for me) they’ve deemed it buzz worthy! Buzz worthy seems like an awesome thing to be deemed!
You can preorder this bad boy, which might make it have a sequel. The sequel would be amazing. Believe me, I know. It features caves and monsters and love. Because doesn’t every story?
HEAR MY BOOK BABY (AND MORE) ON PATREON
On February first, I’m going to launch my Patreon site where I’ll be reading chapters (in order) of a never-published teen fantasy novel, releasing deleted scenes and art from some of my more popular books. And so much more.
WHAT IS PATREON?
A lot of you might be new to Patreon and not get how it works. That’s totally cool. New things can be scary, but there’s a cool primer HERE that explains how it works. The short of it is this: You give Patreon your paypal or credit card # and they charge you whatever you level you choose at the end of each month. That money supports me sharing my writing and art and podcasts and weirdness with you.
HELP US AND DO AN AWESOME GOOD DEED
Thanks to all of you who keep listening to our weirdness on the DOGS ARE SMARTER THAN PEOPLE podcast as we talk about random thoughts, writing advice and life tips. We’re sorry we laugh so much… sort of. Please share it and subscribe if you can. Please rate and like us if you are feeling kind, because it matters somehow. There’s a new episode every Tuesday!
BE A PART OF THE PODCAST!
Hey! If you download the Anchor application, you can call into the podcast, record a question, or just say ‘hi,’ and we’ll answer. You can be heard on our podcast! Sa-sweet!
No question is too wild. But just like Shaun does, try not to swear, okay?
