Kerrie Flanagan
Permission to Write
October 4, 2017 October 1, 2017 / Rhonda	/ Leave a comment
This past weekend I was fortunate to attend a writer's conference in Niwot, CO, hosted by Rachel Weaver, founder of Colorado Writing School. I went with enthusiasm for what I might learn and came away with so much more than that. I came away with a head chock full of knowledge, a soul with renewed energy, a heart with renewed passion for the craft, and most important of all, validation for why I do what I do. A hall pass.
We writers are an insecure lot, and if we're not making a lot of money at what we're doing, it's easy to fall into the trap of wondering if our time spent writing is frivolous and if we should be doing something "important" instead. Despite five published books, another due out by the end of the year, it's a rut I fall back into frequently, like the gutters my bowling balls rolled into when I used to bowl.
Stephen King, in his book On Writing – A Memoir of the Craft (a book I highly recommend for writers of all levels) states that only approximately 5% of writers can support themselves and their families with their writing. Considering his book was published in 1999, eighteen years ago, that the number of writers has grown exponentially with the boom of self-publishing, and the cost of living has gone up, that percentage is likely even lower today. Does that mean those of us who fall into the less than 95 percentile should pack it up and stop writing? Absolutely not!
Going to conferences or writer's workshops gives me permission, if you will, to do what I love to do. My day job is a job. It's my vocation. Writing is my avocation. My passion. And being in a room filled with other writers, those who find joy and fulfillment in the written word and telling stories, doesn't only make that okay for me, it makes it healthy and good. And Lord knows we can never have enough goodness.
Conferences and workshops provide the power of brainstorming with each other, the room alive from the electrical energy of so much creativity in one place. In one of the sessions I attended, the writing prompts and exercises produced the synopsis for book two in the Whispering Pines Mysteries. That, alone, made it a success. 🙂
Lunch was spent with Kerrie Flanagan, author, presenter, and writing consultant, who shared invaluable insight. Another was an agent panel with Becky LeJeune and Shana Kelly, who also had invaluable advice when querying. A writer cannot get these nuggets of gold camped out in an office with the door closed.
Writing doesn't have to be a lonely endeavor. In a profession where most of us are introverts, finding comfort within the walls of our home office or tucked comfortably behind a computer screen, conferences and workshops offer a way for us to interact with people to "get" us. They provide connections to others in the industry. And it's even enjoyable for us introverts!
So write on. Go create. Get your stories out into the world. Permission granted.
There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are. W. Somerset Maugham
Special Mother's Day Gift
May 1, 2014 May 1, 2014 / Rhonda	/ Leave a comment
Two fabulous authors have a Mother's Day Offer I wanted to share with you. (See below)
Need a special Mother's Day gift for your Mom, Wife or Grandmother? Mother's Day is on May 11 and Hot Chocolate Press has a special buy one get one free offer.* Buy And Then I Smiled ($11.95) by Dean K Miller and get Planes, Trains and Chuck & Eddie ($10.95 retail) by Kerrie L. Flanagan for FREE.** Both will be personalized, signed and sent to you (or directly to your gift recipient) before Mother's Day. Offer ends Tuesday (May 6, 2014). To Order Visit: http://hotchocolatepress.com *Limited quantities available **Shipping & Handling extra
Below is a sampling of the beautiful writing by Dean K. Miller from And Then I Smiled .
A Mother's Patience
A mother's patience is one of her most under-appreciated traits. It starts at the moment of her son's conception, as she is the first to know that life has been created inside her. Though her love for the unborn child is strong and the bond of motherhood already formed, she must wait nine months to hold this unique miracle.
She watches as he grows, withstanding sleepless nights of nightmares, his stuffy noses, tantrums and the scrapes and bruises. Someday her son will become aware of the love, the nurturing, and the guiding. And, finally, of the letting go. But she knows it is on his schedule, not hers.
As he spreads his wings and explores the world, the mother continues to wait. Whether it's late-night phone calls, listening to girlfriend troubles, the lack of money or the feeling of not knowing where to go in life, she is there when called upon. Patiently she watches him, knowing in her heart that the choices are his, and sometimes wishing he would choose differently.
But wisdom, learned perhaps from her own mother, has taught her that the journey is not hers to take. Patiently, she watches from afar, understanding that life will teach her son the lesson he needs at the exact moment he needs it.
When he calls to express his frustration, she doesn't try to undo the lesson, but instead helps her son capture the learning.
Then, the moment she has waited for arrives. The son has discovered the true source of his inner self and joyfully returns to her doorstep. With patience she listens to the moments of his life that brought him happiness. Subtly, she encourages his story to unfold, laughing silently at his follies and smiling brightly at his courage to face his fears. He tells her things he has told no one and knows his words are protected and safe.
Though it has taken decades, the bond of mother and son has grown to include a friendship which knows no equal.
Now they walk through life together, knowing their love between them transcends all boundaries. It is everlasting and it makes them smile.
Thank you, Mom, for allowing me to grow into myself, for patiently waiting all of these years for it to happen, and for accepting me each day along my journey. You are the magic behind the story of my life.