Resiliency

by Jemi Fraser

Life is going to throw a lot of curve balls our way. That's part of life. It's how we handle those curve balls that defines us.

When that curve ball is heading our way, we've got some choices on how to handle it:

• duck
• close our eyes and swing
• keep our eye on the ball and swing
• jump out of the batter's box
• step into the pitch
• watch it go right on by

A writer's journey to publication is chock full of curve balls. 

• finding the right idea
• writing the first page
• finishing the draft
• finding a crit buddy
• sharing
• revising
• editing
• writing a query
• and synopsis
• sending out that query
• rejection
• more rejection
• marketing
• reviews
• contracts
• sales
• pressure of the next book
• ...

Resiliency is the key to survival in the industry. So how do we deal with those curve balls? A few suggestions:

• conversations and commiserations with writing buddies (this online writing community is incredible!!)
• always having the next idea ready to go - keep an idea bank
• critique the work of others - a great way to improve yourself & help out someone else!
• study your favourite stories to see what works in them to pull you in
• tears (but not for long!)
• time outs/times off (again, not for long!)
• chocolate (maybe that's just me)
• learn something new (this is my personal favourite. Not only is it productive, but it builds your skill set and your confidence)

There's nothing wrong with jumping out of the batter's box - as long as you're ready to learn something new and then jump right back in. 

How do you build your resiliency?

Jemi Fraser is an aspiring author of contemporary romance. She blogs  and tweets while searching for those HEAs.

1 Piece of Advice 5 Ways

by Jemi Fraser

There is so much advice out there for aspiring writers it can sometimes be overwhelming. A lot of it can be boiled down to the same piece of advice given from different perspectives.

What's right for someone else may not be right for you

• Social Media
• There are about a bazillion options for social media interactions with more popping up all the time. You can't do them all - or at least I can't. You need to find which ones you enjoy and which ones make your skin itch. Pick and choose. Be selective. Don't join because 'everyone else is' or 'it works for everyone else'. It doesn't.

What's right for someone else may not be right for you

• Genre
• Write the stories you love. Write the ones in your heart. Of course you can keep a reasonable eye on the market and make some tweaks and twists, but if you're writing a genre you don't love, it will show. Don't worry about what's currently popular - by the time you're done and polished and ready to query that trend will probably be over. Create the next trend instead.

What's right for someone else may not be right for you

• Style
• Find your voice. Don't try to imitate your favourite authors. Be you. No one else can do it better. Warning: Finding your voice takes a lot of time and a lot of words. Be prepared.

What's right for someone else may not be right for you

• Promotion
• Don't piggyback on someone else's ideas. Sure, we all borrow bits and pieces, but find the promotion style that works for you. Decide what will work for you based on your comfort levels and your target audience.
• PLEASE don't fall victim to The Opera Disease.

What's right for someone else may not be right for you

• Your Journey
• A crit buddy signs with an agent after only 10 queries. A fellow blogger started writing 2 years after you and has pubbed 4 books already. A friend gets a 3 book deal with a big pub...
• Be happy & celebrate with them. Remember they're not you. Your Journey is uniquely You. Don't compare. Don't waste energy on jealousy (okay, go ahead, cry a bit and eat some Rolo ice cream. Then get over it). Your Journey is going exactly as it should be. Enjoy the journey because that IS the point.

Anything else you think that piece of advice might be good for?

Jemi Fraser is an aspiring author of contemporary romance. She blogs and tweets while searching for those HEAs.

Nice Shot! Sometimes You Just Know When It's Good

by Mindy McGinnis

As basketball season comes to a close I wanted to say a little something about a different type of muse than the one we usually talk about here. One that follows you onto the court or out to the field, one the lets you know which millisecond is the right one to release the pressure of your fingertips on the ball.

I was at an intermediate school sporting event recently to watch some of my students play. One of my non-atheltic friends came along for the ride and was astounded at the accuracy of which I would say, "Nice shot," before the ball had even completed its arc toward the basket ... to inevitably go through the hoop.

"How do you know?" she asked me. "Every time, you say that way before it goes in, and they make it."

I didn't have a good answer. I guess part of it is math—just looking at the arc of the shot or the angle that it hits the backboard. But I've never been very good at math, so I'm not sure that completely addresses what I experience in those moments. And I'm not the only one. Often I see other people celebrating the shot early—a victorious fist pump or a proud clap from a parent before the ball goes through the net. Invariably, they're former athletes.

I think it's the ghost of the confidence of my younger self, the girl who knew exactly at what moment to take the shot, make a pre-emptive pass to where I knew my teammate was going to cut through the lane, or duck an elbow from the girl guarding me who didn't appreciate the fact that I was killing her stats.

That confidence has transferred to the laptop these days. I still play ball every now and then, but I don't always know it's going to be good the way I used to. And writing can be that way as well.

We all know the days when we approach the laptop or notebook with a feeling of dread, the fear that today the words just aren't going to come, that the cursor is going to blink at us curiously while we stare back, unable to make it move forward and leave words in its wake.

But there are other times too—times when I know what I've got to say is going to flow out of me, days when I've been playing a scene in my head all day at work and the only thing I want is to get it onto the screen before it evaporates. Those days there's hardly any effort involved at all, and the story falls out of me onto the page because it wants to be there, not hidden away inside my head.

Here's hoping we all get more of the good days than the bad ones, and that there's always someone in the stands anticipating that what we write is bound to be all net.

Mindy McGinnis is a YA author and librarian. Her debut, NOT A DROP TO DRINK, is a post-apocalyptic survival tale set in a world where freshwater is almost non-existent, available from Katherine Tegen / Harper Collins September 9, 2013. She blogs at Writer, Writer Pants on Fire and contributes to the group blogs Book Pregnant, Friday the Thirteeners, From the Write Angle, The Class of 2k13, The Lucky 13s & The League of Extraordinary Writers. You can also find her on Twitter, Tumblr & Facebook.

Fake It 'Til You Make It

by R.C. Lewis

Lately I've had several people tell me they were surprised when I mentioned how terrified I am to get up in front of a group of people. "I never would have guessed you're shy."

Well, then, mission accomplished.

Yes, I am shy (and introverted ... see J. Lea Lopez's post on how they aren't the same thing). Always have been, from childhood right up to the moment I composed this post.

I'm also a teacher. That means getting up in front of people every day. So I kind of had to find a way to deal with it. My strategy: Fake it 'til you make it. I pretended I wasn't shy until the non-shy behaviors became a habit. As a result, I'm pretty comfortable in front of forty teenagers. A group of adults, on the other hand ...

Am I still shy? I feel like I am, but it's more like a switch I can turn on and off. I guess I'm "functionally non-shy."

Seems to me this strategy can be useful in a variety of aspects of a writer's life.

The most obvious—getting up in front of people at bookstore appearances, school visits, conference panels, etc. Fake it. Pretend to be an outgoing person, just as I've done in my classrooms over the years. Chances are, you'll fool everyone, and eventually yourself.

Marketing, social media presence, etc. makes you feel inadequate? Fake it. Pretend you're the most interesting version of yourself ever. (You write characters all the time, right?)

What about the writing process itself? Ever feel like a hack writing drivel that isn't worth the electrons in your computer? Fake it. Pretend to be a brilliant author writing fabulous prose. Don't let a conviction that what you're writing is crap keep you from moving forward.

But wait a minute! Faking it doesn't mean lying to yourself. When things need fixing or improvement, do what it takes. Study up, practice, get advice.

In all of the above, I guess the bottom line is to fake your way to confidence, and work your way to excellence. The first will keep you from sabotaging yourself before you get to the second.

Have you ever felt you had to "fake" something in your writer life? What strategies help you "make it"?

R.C. Lewis teaches math by day and writes YA fiction by every other time. Her YA sci-fi novel Stitching Snow will be published by Disney-Hyperion in Summer 2014. Meanwhile, you can find her at Crossing the Helix and on Twitter (@RC_Lewis).

Avoiding the Writer's Wall

by Stephen L. Duncan

In my fairly limited existence as an author, there have been many truisms that I’ve run across while trying to get the words onto the page. More often than not, these little bits of advice on the dos and the don’ts of being a writer get stuck somewhere in the back of my mind, only to be quickly forgotten. I'm just stupid like that. One, though, rings truer than others and I try to keep it in mind whenever a distraction attempts to call me away from the work.

Writing a novel is all about momentum.

You stick a word down, then another. Soon you have a sentence, and a paragraph follows until a page is filled. You do this over and over, and eventually you'll have all the pages your little spark of an idea needs to be a story.

That’s fairly simple, isn’t it?

Indeed. Yet there are always obstacles in our way. You’ve heard of one, no doubt. The dreaded Writer’s Block. I’ve never suffered from it, but it sounds horrible—a sort of frozen paralyzed state where words just don’t exist in the mind. Momentum can help prevent this little hiccup, because words are like water and a book, after all, is merely the result of a broken dam. The faster the flow, the harder it is to stop.

What I have experienced recently with the novel I just tuned in to my agent is the Writer’s Wall. If Writer’s Block is this leaded state of being that weighs you down, immobilizing you, Writer’s Wall is something you crash into.

In a way, it’s the opposite of Writer’s Block. You have too much going on in your writing life, too much spilling out of your head onto the page. And then, like something out of NASCAR, you hit the wall. (Hey, I’m from Alabama. I can only go so long in a day without a racing metaphor.) Your words are broken, not working, and your story seems futile. Worse, you're no longer certain you should be writing it.

The symptoms are these: From an abnormally confident valuation of your own work, often joined by a heightened productivity, you will experience a sudden onset of fear of publication characterized by a consuming doubt in your own taste and talent. Every word choice will be in question, every sentence’s worth made suspect. You will begin to negatively compare yourself to notable successful writers. While ideas and stories may flourish, you will encounter a paralyzing lack of esteem that prevents these ideas and stories from being realized.

A lot can steer you into a Writer’s Wall. Rejection. Negative feedback. Too much momentum. The list could go on and on. But the trick to pulling out of the crash is to take some time away from your work. Let it marinate in your head a little. Slow down. Live some of your life away from your computer.

Of course, if you’re like me, you might read this and then quickly store it in some recessed part of your mind, ready to be forgotten.

Write hard, y’all.

Stephen L. Duncan writes young adult fiction, including his debut, the first book in The Revelation Saga, due in 2014 from Medallion Press. You can find him blogging on INKROCK.com and on Twitter.

Connect the Dots for a Successful Public Presentation

by Cat Woods

Fast Fact: Public speaking is not high school speech class.

Evidence: Me

During my demonstration speech (you know, the one where you can't even hang on to your note cards because you have to SHOW how something is done?), I crushed the eggshell I was supposed to decorate.

After another I shook so badly, I couldn't walk back to my seat in a straight line.  If a cop had been present, I'd have landed a DWI for sure.

As far as I was concerned, the word speech should have been reserved for tenth grade English and diagramming sentences.  Since that time, however, I've presented at social organizations, professional organizations and Young Writers' Conferences.  I've found myself at the front of the room in libraries, schools and churches.

The moral of this story: If I can speak in public, so can you.  It's as simple as connecting the dots.

1. Connect with your topic.  You're a writer.  You're passionate about the process, the business, literacy, your book, your genre, your audience, etc....  Whatever you are speaking about, make sure you are engaged in the topic.  You must first believe before you can ask others to do the same. 
2. Connect with yourself. Before entering a room, take a deep breath. Give yourself a pep talk. You are smart, funny, warm and compassionate. You know this topic like the road map of veins on the top of your hand.  Stand confidently, no matter how uncertain you feel.  And for heaven's sake, wear clothes you like.  If your new suit is stiff, you'll be stiff. 
3. Connect with your audience.  Right off the bat, you must personalize your presence with the guests in the room.  Smile—the kind that reaches your eyes and not just turns the corners of your mouth.  Maintain solid eye contact.  Make each individual in your audience feel as if you notice them and are personally thrilled that s/he is here.  Your audience's comfort level has a direct impact on your comfort level.  Breaking the ice is your job. 
4. Connect your audience to your topic.  This could be the single most important connection you make in a presentation.  To keep audience members from memorizing the vein patterns on the backs of their hands, you must engage them immediately and make them feel as if they have a stake in the presentation.  Give them a reason to be there and a reason to listen.  Make it personal.
5. Connect with the energy and use it to guide your presentation.  Watch your audience for cues on when to elaborate or when to gloss over something.  Presentations are not about you.  They are personal experiences between your audience and your topic.  You are the messenger. 

So, how do we connect the dots in a way that draws a cohesive picture and would garner A's from our English teachers of high school past?

We must do a little research.  We must know our audience and the reason behind our presentations.  We must have clear goals.  We must care so deeply about our topics that we can allow our presentations to meander within the confines of our expectations.

Last week I spoke to a fourth grade class.  January was the teacher's month to help her students make a real world connection between what they learn in school and how this knowledge is necessary and applicable into adulthood.

In more ways than one, I connected the dots.

1. My Topic.  Hello!  English, grammar, characterization, yada yada yada.  Easy peasy.  But I took it one step further.  I figured out how writers use each and every subject in school. 
2. Myself.  I got out of my jammies for once and actually did my hair.  I wore the appropriate--adult, but not boring--clothes and tapped into my inner fourth grade kid.  Humor. 
3. My Audience.  They're kids.  That's easy.  A smile.  A raised eyebrow.  A little wave to the shy girl who so wants to be noticed but will never tell you that.  A conspiratorial wink to the class clown when the teacher gives him a hard look and a subsequent finger to the lips to let him know we share a secret and we're in this together—quietly.  It's easier than you think to play a room as long as you know your audience.  Once, when talking to the local Kiwanis chapter, I connected to my audience via the strongest presence in the room.  I told them I was woefully unprepared to speak to such a prestigious group of professionals, but when the judge asks, "What are you doing for lunch?" and follows your "Nothing" with, "Well, you're busy now," you have no choice but to say yes.  Even if you only had one hour to prepare.  It worked because every business professional has felt pressure from above.  This icebreaker connected us on a very real level.
4. My Audience to My Topic. The teacher wanted me to talk about parts of speech.  The kids wanted to hear anything but that.  I met in the middle and asked if they'd ever had to write a paper for their teacher.  I asked if it looked like it had been shot with a red pen when they got it back.  Then I showed them my working binder of a manuscript with all the red lines and notations and scribbles and stickies and told them they were just like me.  With that simple prop, I showed them that we were on the same level: imperfect, yet ambitious (a very fourth grade trait).  That alleviated all the angst they were feeling and nudged their curiosity about the process.  Seriously, how does a mess like my binder end up in the library?
5. The Energy.  I explained how a writer writes, read them a short story I'd written and answered questions.  When questions slowed, I hit them with a bomb.  "What subject in school does a writer never need to use?"  Math.  Of course.  It's so brain-opposite from the written word that it's obvious even to the youngest readers.  I then walked them through the various ways writers might get paid.  By the word, the page or the completed project.  They had to figure out which would be the better deal for the story I had read them.  A whole new round of questions followed based on this new tangent.  At the end of my presentation, a student raised his hand and said, "So, a writer really needs to know a lot about a lot of things."  Bingo!  The kids were happy, the teacher was happy and I was happy.

I'm gearing up for another presentation in a few weeks.  This one is for a women's group with members on the more experienced side of life.  I know they like to read.  I also know they don't have a clue what it takes to get those books on the bookshelf for them to enjoy.  My topic will be different, as will the way I present.  I'll dress differently and research different questions.  The only thing that will remain the same is my connection. 

I have never walked out of a presentation drained.  Instead, I'm energized and focused.  I feel renewed excitement, motivation and connection toward whatever topic I spoke about.  The minute that changes, is the minute I pack up my microphone and store it in the attic with the remnants of my shattered eggshell.

How about you?  How does public speaking make you feel?  If you're an experienced presenter, please share your tips with those just starting out.  If you've never given a public presentation beyond your high school speech class, tell us why not.  Do certain topics or audiences seem more appealing than others?  More terrifying? 

Curious minds want to know.

The Perks of Being an Introverted Writer

by J. Lea Lopez

In my last post, I confessed that I am both shy and an introvert, explained the difference between the two, and talked about how those traits have created challenges for me as a writer. Today I'm back to talk about the positives.

There is nothing wrong with being an introvert, or being shy. Let's be clear about that. If there's some aspect of one of those things that causes you such distress or disadvantage that you decide you need to change it, that's great. Go for it. But introversion is simply a different way of thinking and behaving. It isn't something to be fixed. You might not realize that in today's society, where so much emphasis is placed on teamwork and being outgoing, despite the many benefits of quiet solitude. (For more on this, read this excellent article on the "New Groupthink" and the inherent bias against introvert tendencies.)

It's also important to understand that introverts, like extraverts, aren't all the same. My tendencies may differ from yours or anyone else's, even if we all present as introverted. There are calm introverts, but there are also impulsive introverts (just as there are both calm and anxious extraverts). I think some of the things I'll be talking about are fairly common experiences among introverts, but I'm talking about them from a strictly personal point of view.

So how does being an introvert help my writing?

Dialogue

I mentioned in the last post that many introverts hate small talk. I know I certainly do. One of my fellow introverts and writers, Ty Unglebower, spells out all the reasons why it makes us uncomfortable in this post. I share many of those feelings, and I also feel the same way about dialogue in writing. I tend to be as minimal as possible with dialogue, and I hate to waste a word. You won't catch my characters engaging in meaningless small talk, unless it's done as an effect - like it's obvious to the reader that one or more characters is talking just to hear themselves talk, or because they can't bear silence instead. In my opinion, every word of dialogue should be meaningful in some way or another. I pride myself on dialogue that is realistic but not real. I kind of obsess over it, in fact. If I write too many back-and-forth volleys of dialogue, my pinky finger gets a little twitchy over the backspace key. And not to sound too proud, but I have been complimented on my dialogue, so I guess my distaste for small talk is working for me.

Nuance and Subtext

I may not speak much in a group setting, but I listen. And I watch. And I connect dots other people might not even see. I'll notice how Janet's opinions always align with George's, and how she smiles when George calls her out for a good idea. I'll be the one who sees the game of footsie between George and Mary under the the conference room table, and I'll feel bad for Janet. More than just the non-verbal communication taking place between people in the room, I often hear subtext in what's being said, or how it's being said. By the end of a discussion, I could tell you not only what was said, but a little bit about the personalities of the people involved. George manipulates others to get his way. Janet is overly agreeable toward anyone who gives her praise. Mary is stone-faced, serious, and commands much of the conversation even as her under-the-table games with George inch away from G-rated and more towards R-rated. She's always in control, and she likes it.

I try to incorporate these different layers of action and meaning into my writing. There is a time for straightforward action and dialogue, but there is also a time and place for more nuanced, subtle clues. Sometimes one small detail, enlarged and given the right treatment, can change the way a scene reads.

I can write without writing

I live in my head, in my thoughts. Even in a crowded room, or at work, or driving in the car, I can be deep in thought about anything besides what's going on around me. So while being an introvert means I often take a long time to think before I speak (and therefore speak little), it is this same aspect that allows me to work out minute details of my stories before I ever set pen to paper. It takes me ages to write a first draft because I do so much think-writing and not nearly as much actual-writing. But once the first draft is done, it's pretty clean.

Some people pound out a first draft in four or five months, let it rest a bit, then spend another six or nine months (or more) revising, getting feedback, and editing through dozens of drafts. I'll take close to a year (sometimes more) just finishing the first draft, but that's often pretty close to how the final product will look. It's not necessarily a better method, just different. There are times where I wish I could knock out a draft in mere weeks, but I can't. I've finally decided that's OK and I don't beat myself up about it.

I'm cautious

I'm a fairly calm introvert, though I'm prone to moments of anxiety about certain things (which I think mostly stems from my shyness) and this is actually a good thing. It keeps me from jumping into things too fast, before I'm ready. Sure, maybe I could've sold lots of books last year if I had self-published then. But with the benefit of hindsight, I know now that I had ZERO clue about anything last year. I might've managed to put out a nice, well-formatted, clean e-book (or I might NOT), but I wouldn't have had any type of marketing strategy and would've hated trying to navigate the marketing aspect nearly blind. I probably would've been miserable.

I spent last year reading, absorbing, watching others with more knowledge and skill navigate their way through the new indie and traditional publishing realms. I also saw some people behave in ways that served as examples of what NOT to do. I learned a lot. Some of it assuaged certain fears and aggravated others. I'm in a place now where I feel I know enough to take the leap, and if I fail or succeed, I'm confident that I'll have done so to the best of my ability. Which brings me to my last point:


I want my word to have integrity.

I mean this both in the sense of honesty in the things I say and do, but also in the written words and stories I create. I've never had trouble changing the way I think, or my opinions on certain things when faced with evidence that speaks to me and points out the error of old ways. I want to bring this to my writing as well. If I get pretty unanimous and authentic feedback that something isn't working in my writing, I'll change it. If I fail, or if I succeed, I want it to be because of the choices I've made, and nothing else. Not because I kissed ass--or didn't. Not because I whored myself on Twitter despite feeling bad about it--or didn't. Not because I slept my way to the top--or didn't. (Seriously, that doesn't happen in writing/publishing, does it? Because if it does, let me know. My husband might make an exception to our vows if it means lots of money for us..... Kidding!) I feel about my success or failure with writing the same way I feel about my life in general: I'm responsible, no one else, and I will always strive to make good, honest, informed decisions and put out the best product I know how.

What are some of your own quirks or traits that have positively influenced your writing, even if they're otherwise considered negative traits by some?

A Writer's Confession: I'm Shy and an Introvert

by J. Lea Lopez

I blog. I tweet. I Facebook. I also belong to almost half a dozen social networks for writers (some I participate in more frequently than others). I don't usually mind sharing some rather personal anecdotes when asked. For those familiar with me via my "public" online presence, you might also know that I write erotica without a pseudonym, never hesitate to speak up with advice or encouragement when my writer friends need it, flirt with strangers on Twitter and point out the hidden sexual innuendo in everything, and just last week I let loose with a scathing judgment of my own genre and a small group of writers within it.

Why am I telling you all this? Because despite that laundry list of putting-myself-out-there-ness, I have a confession to make.

I am an introvert. And you know what else? I'm a bit on the shy side as well. Does that surprise you? Let's talk about introversion and shyness, as it relates to being a writer, and then you might be able to see how all of those things I listed might actually highlight my introversion, without any of us ever realizing it.

First, I'll state that this isn't a post about marketing or promotion for introverts (our own Mindy McGinnis touched on some of that already, and there are other sites dedicated to the topic). This is just a tiny peek into an introverted mind so all my fellow introvert writers can say "I'm not alone!" And who knows, maybe some of you will glean some insights into the introvert mind that could help you write a character or two.

Introversion and shyness are not the same thing. You can be shy and and an extravert. You can be an introvert without being shy. Susan Cain spells out the difference quite nicely, and succinctly, as such:

Shyness is the fear of negative judgment, and introversion is a preference for quiet, minimally stimulating environments.

I won't lie, my shyness and introversion is a one-two punch that creates a lot of challenges for me as a writer. This blog post alone is proof of that. I've sort of stumbled onto a dry patch in terms of knowing what to blog about. I put a shout-out on Twitter asking for ideas, and then I also added that I thought my introversion might be hindering me in this area. In groups, I'm often slow to speak, or even completely silent, because I like to think for a long time and make sure I'm 100% sure of my opinion before I state it. I'm prone to moments of self-doubt where I'm sure there's nothing I could say that anyone would be interested in reading (don't even ask me how long it takes to write the first draft of a novel—good lawdy lawd!). I've been better about it recently, but my personal blog has sometimes gone weeks, even months, without a new post for this reason.

This same fear of negative judgment is (mostly) what kept me from self-publishing my first novel last year. It's not ready. It's not ready. I can't do it. Maybe it is ready. But what if it's not? What if people don't like it? I can't market. I can promote the hell out of other people, but not myself. What if my marketing attempts make me look like an ass? All of these things, and more, absolutely paralyzed me with fear. I often get great feedback from beta readers and writers whose opinions I respect. But my first instinct is embarrassment, which I quickly push aside. The second instinct is to seek out another, more critical reader. Why? To tell me I suck? It's not that I don't believe people when they say good things about my writing. I'm just a perfectionist, and I'm always looking for some other way to improve. And maybe I am looking for that one negative opinion to satisfy my own inner critic. Because I need to be right.

Do you know any introverts? Do they sometimes come across as know-it-alls, stubborn not only in their opinions, but also in asserting the "rightness" of those opinions? Not all introverts are this way, but a lot are, myself included. So forgive us, please. It's not that we think we're superior to anyone else in that way. But we spend so much time on reflection, introspection, and being an objective observer to (as opposed to participant in) the interactions around us that we're often so sure we know what's really going on in any given situation. And for me, that includes being sure I'm right about my own plainness.

Don't mistake this for simple low self-confidence, either. I like what I write. I even think I'm pretty damn fabulous sometimes. I just fear that other people won't like it as much as I do. Is that splitting hairs? Maybe. But I live with this type of cognitive dissonance every day. It's not one or the other, it's both—I'm confident in who I am, what I write, etc., but I still care an awful lot about what other people will think.

After I mentioned my introversion and lack of blog ideas on Twitter, one friend (thanks, Lela!) suggested I blog about my struggles with being an introverted writer (hence this post). She said I could talk about the social media mechanisms I use to cope with my introvert tendencies and anxieties. I thought to myself, What if the answer is 'I don't cope'? Of course you do, Lela said. And I got to thinking about it.

If you follow me on Twitter, you may have seen me mention the #goatposse. They're a group of writers who support and encourage each other, chat about writing (and silly things, too), post funny pictures of goats, and just have a good old time without taking ourselves very seriously. The #goatposse makes Twitter a lot of fun for me. I was sort of "enveloped" in the #goatposse phenomenon. I didn't really make a huge effort to insert myself into it—it's not really in my introvert nature to just jump into any group. I let myself be swept up in the fun of it. I've "met" some fun new people through the group. People I can "let my hair down" around. I chose the people I follow very carefully, and I interact with a lot of them (not just the #goatposse) on a fairly regular basis.

I've created my own introvert haven, right there on Twitter. I feel more comfortable speaking my mind, opening up, and sharing things with people I've come to know and like. Even online, in an otherwise very public place. It's also easier to let that sliver of extravert within me come out to play online, be it here, on Twitter, Facebook, etc. Yes, I put my real name and my real face online, but I'm (slightly) less anxious about looking like an idiot online than I would be in a face to face situation. Yes, more of my apparent incongruity there, but that's how my brain works.

Am I being deceitful, disingenuous, or otherwise "acting" if I behave online in a manner I probably wouldn't in "real" life? Absolutely not. You won't catch me giving praise where I don't believe it's due, saying things I don't mean (so pay attention to an introvert's carefully chosen silences), flirting with you if I don't think you're fun to flirt with (hey, I'm married, it's just fun and games!), or conforming to any type of groupthink because I want to be accepted and liked—even though I do want to be accepted and liked. Make sense?

Hang on with me just a bit longer, here. The navel-gazing is almost over, I promise. Going back to the list of things I mentioned at the beginning of the post. Can you see yet how they're all both indicative of and a way I cope with my shyness and introversion as a writer?

• Social networks—I belong to many. I'm more active on the ones where I've managed to build a close-knit network of trusted and respected peers (as opposed to a huge network of less well-acquainted contacts). I can get both the criticism and encouragement I desire.
• Writing erotica without a pseudonym—Doesn't seem like a very shy thing to do, does it? My quiet pride and self-confidence (definitely an introvert characteristic) wins out over my shyness here. Love it or hate it, you'll know I wrote it.
• Playful online flirting, joking around, and general silliness (such as with my #goatposse)—The obvious indication is that humor distracts both me and others from real issues—like whether I'm a judgmental bitch, or a talentless hack, or whatever my fear du jour might be. But it's also a great way to just relax and have fun. It relieves any pressure about having to "perform" (i.e., be an extravert) in a way I'm not comfortable doing. Plus we all need to laugh at ourselves once in a while.
• Sharing personal tidbits, giving advice when asked, incessantly pointing out sexual innuendo, and occasionally being painfully blunt—Yes, all of these things are related and belong in the same category. While introverts may tend toward the quiet end of the spectrum (and we generally hate—HATE—small talk), we can still talk your ear off when we're interested in or feel strongly about a topic.
• I mentioned a "scathing judgment" at the beginning of this post, which I stated on my own blog, knowing it might be an unpopular opinion, and could cost me maybe some respect, maybe some readers, I wasn't sure. I almost didn't post anything about it at all. It took me months before I did. But I did. Scared of negative judgment? Yes. But passionate and willing to defend my opinion? Absolutely. Again, there's that dichotomy of confidence bordering on arrogance and deep-rooted fear of judgment.
• I value honesty, and I'll give it to you if you want it. And if someone asks for my help, I have a near-pathological inability to say no. It makes me feel good, it makes me feel needed.
• I joke around about the unintended sexual innuendo I see everywhere—it's funny, of course, but this stuff goes through my head every moment of every day (right along with some of the judgments I mentioned a moment ago). When I point it out, you get my mostly uncensored thoughts at the moment—something that's pretty rare for me to give.
• And the part about sharing intensely personal bits of info? If there's one thing only you take away from this post, either for your writing or your real-life interactions with your favorite introvert, let it be this: learn to ask the right questions. I'll willingly share just about anything with anyone, if I'm asked, often despite my own shyness. We introverts probably won't offer up too many juicy tidbits of our own volition, but a few well-timed, appropriate questions can open the floodgates.

I guess I have coped with my shyness and introversion fairly well in terms of making connections with people online. I'll have a brand new set of challenges to overcome later this year as I finally take the plunge into self-publishing and will be working on that self-promotion thing. Don't take this post the wrong way—there isn't anything wrong with being shy or an introvert. There are a hell of a lot of things right with it, and it helps me in my writing just as much as it challenges me. But I think that's a post for another day.

Are you an introvert writer? (If you are, you'll probably just nod your head and move along without commenting ;-) ha) What challenges does introversion or shyness pose in your writing life—either in trying to capture an introverted character on the page or overcoming challenges of your own introverted nature?

Why Are You Writing?

by J. Lea Lopez

Recently I held a contest on my personal blog where I challenged participants to write a very short story that was sexy, but where no one got naked. I thought it would be a fun way to entice people to try writing something erotic without the embarrassment of actually having to write a sex scene, and also a good way to encourage some outside-the-box thinking by taking the “sex” out of sexy writing.

So why am I telling you this, especially since I already named a winner? Because it told me something about some of my fellow aspiring writers. I was surprised—shocked, even—by the number of people who scoffed at the idea of entering because I’ve never read/written erotica. That’s not my genre. Or I’m no good at those kinds of scenes. I can’t do that. And then the handful of entries I did get were mostly prefaced with statements like I’m sorry if it sucks and I know I won’t win. Does no one have confidence anymore? Or even a good sense of just for the hell of it fun?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for having realistic expectations and being able to honestly assess our own talent. The last thing I want is for any of my writing friends to suffer from the same delusions that cause some people (you know which ones) to audition for American Idol and then throw a hissy when everyone laughs. But don’t you want to challenge yourself, ever? Don’t you want to branch out and try something completely different, if only for 1200 words that only a handful of people will ever read? (My blog isn’t the most highly-trafficked corner of the Web. It’s not like I asked anyone to submit their writing to the New Yorker.)

All career considerations and aspirations for wealth or fame aside—why are you writing? If not to stretch the limits—of the imagination, of a genre, of your own talent—then why?

One of my favorite and best English professors in college told our Creative Writing class that we should always be pushing the envelope. Always. He told us to write what we love and want to write, but push the envelope. That’s stuck with me over the years, and I think it’s something we should all be doing. Write a formulaic bodice-ripper for Harlequin if that’s what you want to do, but for goodness sake, push that envelope! Write the best damn bodice-ripper we’ve ever seen.

We always have an eye toward marketability and the like, because we do want to make a living at this writing gig. I’m not suggesting you expect your literary YA space opera about werewolves and vamps forming an alliance against the aliens from galaxy XSr429-6 to be an easy sell. But don’t just regurgitate the same stuff that’s been circulating for years, either. Oh, hell, you know what? If that literary YA space opera is what you are just aching to write – do it! Write the best damn literary YA space opera you can, and then strip it down and do it again. Learn the shortcomings of the genres you choose, and the weaknesses in your own ability, then fix them. Find ways to exploit your strengths. Write something in a genre or viewpoint you’re uncomfortable with, to see how it feels. Find what you can learn from the experience, trash the rest, and move on. But do it. Stop sabotaging yourself from the word go by filling your head with negative talk and doubt and do it.

Challenge yourself. Challenge your audience. Strive for the growth that comes from pushing the envelope.

Otherwise, why are you writing at all?