Oh, Internet, How I (Haven’t Really) Missed You

In the wee hours of Monday, September 20, my wireless router died quietly in its sleep. Monday morning, I was in denial. It will come back, I told myself. All morning, I did laundry and washed dishes. By noon, my Internet still wasn’t up. I gathered my courage, packed up my computer, and brought it to my parents’ place. On days that I’m not at the library, if I can’t get online, I can’t work. I accept and return all my assignments online, not to mention the regular email accounts that must be checked to make sure I don’t drop the ball on an all-important issue.

Yesterday, my Internet was still down. I went into the library half an hour early, where I accepted two orders from Scribendi using the library connection. Later that night, I went to my parents’ place again to download both orders to my flash drive, so that I could work on them offline until the Internet tech guy came out to my place at 4 today. That means that before 4 pm, there was no one around except me, Microsoft Word, and two long-ish manuscripts in need of editing. Both were due by the end of the day.

Last night, I estimated that the manuscripts would take me about 14 hours to edit; I wasn’t looking forward to the long day, but I need the money and both were at least interesting projects. I felt incredibly impressed with myself as I worked through the first manuscript before lunch; by the time the Internet guy came, I’d done my first pass on the second one, too. In all, both manuscripts took me about eight hours to complete, six hours fewer than I’d predicted. Now, this isn’t totally due to my lack of connectivity; both pieces were in better shape than the pieces I’m used to editing, and I based my estimation on word count alone without taking a peek at the skill of the writers. Still, there was something so incredibly satisfying about having no choice but to dig into those pages, at least while I was seated at my computer. Usually when I’m editing or writing something, a thousand distractions run through my mind: has that client’s payment been deposited into my checking account yet? Do I have new email at Yahoo? What about gmail? What were the guidelines of that publisher I thought might be a good fit for my work? Have any of my friends updated their Livejournals? What’s the current prize on Coppergoose? The gossip on Facebook? Should I update my progress on my “currently reading” shelf at Goodreads? What’s the meaning of sigil, anyway?

I’m sorry to say that my mind grabs onto these distractions when I start to feel bored or stuck with my current project, and I follow them wherever they may take me, taking just “one more click” like an addict needing one more puff on one more cigarette. I justify each one by saying it will only take a few minutes, which is usually true. But snippets of five or ten or fifteen minutes away from my work or my writing add up. The havoc it wreaks on my brain is even worse.

I still had many of these urges today. Knowing I didn’t have immediate gratification, they eventually subsided, and my focus improved. When I really needed a mental break, I had lunch, drank a cup of tea, took a power nap, and even watched an episode of Sex and the City. The difference between this and my usual working habits were that each of those activities had a clear end point. The food and tea run out. Sex and the City episodes are less than 30 minutes long. I had to wake up to let the Internet guy in. This means I was more productive than usual today, but I didn’t feel totally burnt out at the end of it. That’s because I didn’t throw all those tiny increments of time away on the rabbit hole that is the Internet, a place in which there is no end in sight, and willpower alone is your only salvation.

I found myself feeling a little let down when the Internet was back up again. Now that barrage of distractions would once again be part of my life. Not having the Internet in my home isn’t an option; for me, no Internet means no income. Still, it occurred to me for the first time that I have power over whether my computer is connected to the Internet or not. So when I settled in to finish my edits, post-Internet, I pulled the plug on it until I was ready to upload my completed assignments.

What a relief to realize that I have a choice! Sure, the Internet is still only a click away, but that extra step of having to reconnect it makes me think twice before I chase whatever random whim sounds more fun than my work. I’m making a commitment right now to disconnect the Internet when I need to be intensely engaged with writing or editing. I’ve known for a while that multi-tasking is bad for my brain, but now I’m finally going to do something about it. I challenge you to do the same.

 

I’m Officially a Goodreads Author!

My bit of writing excitement last week — which I’ve already blasted around all the social media to which I belong — was being accepted into Goodreads Author program. I’ve been a member of Goodreads for over three years now, and recently I was looking at the collection of science fiction short stories, Queer Dimensions, in which I published a piece. I noticed that several of the short story contributors in the anthology had a “Goodreads Author” credit next to their names, but that acknowledgment was woefully missing from my name. So I did a quick Google search, applied to be part of the program, and voila! Three days later, I, too, have become a Goodreads Author.

The best part of this transition is probably that it pulled up a few reviews of the anthology that I hadn’t read before, including one that referenced my contribution, “The Man in the Mirror” as “the most sincere of the stories.” I also appreciated this review from Lily:

THE MAN IN THE MIRROR by Lacey Louwagie
This well written story is about what could happen when everything you’ve always wanted starts to come true. In this sweet yet oftentimes sad story the heroine learns that being yourself, and not trying to be what someone else needs, is the only way to truly be happy. Very nice story with an excellent ending.

As endings are the most challenging part for me to write, I was particularly pleased that she commented on the ending.

There are some scary things about crossing the threshold to “Goodreads Author,” too. One is that now I’ll have to be ready to buck up and accept negative, even scathing reviews, of what I’ve written (Lord knows I probably deserve it, after some of the reviews I’ve written!) I admit that when I review a book on Goodreads that designates the author as a “Goodreads Author,” I feel more hesitant to write something negative. A good friend of mine admitted to feeling the same thing, but then made peace with it by deciding that authors just need to accept that not everyone is going to like their work. It’s part of the territory. I agree with her. Now let’s see if I can take as good as I can give (one thing I will NOT do is leave comments on bad reviews “defending” my work. Readers have every right not to like what you’ve written, no questions asked.)

And then there is the issue about being brave, too. I tell the world I write speculative fiction, but it’s not as widely known that some of it (much of it, if I’m totally honest), addresses queer themes in subtle or overt ways. I know that this means some people will judge me immediately as a person, and skip right over the writer part, skip right over what I actually have to say (“oh, she’s part of that agenda”). And that saddens me. But it’s part of the world we live in, and it’s not going to get better if we continue to hide.

Mostly, though, I feel challenged. Because as good as I thought it would feel to reach this milestone, I find the one book to my credit looking pretty piddly on my author account page. I want more books there. MORE!! Around this time next year, I’ll be able to add the book I’m working on for ACTA publications to the roster. Hopefully by the time that one is there, I’ll have another in the works that I can look forward to putting in spot number three.

Why I Write: Because I’m Not Always Brave

Last night, I posted Ask Any Scientist! to Young Adult Catholics. The post argues against using “science” as a justification of homophobia. I knew as I was conceiving of, writing, and publishing the post that I was more likely to get flamed for it than to get support, as the commenters most active on that blog are those who like to pick it apart. My tone was a little more snarky than usual (homilies against same-sex marriage tend to bring out the snark in me), and even when I take the least offensive tone possible, my posts about women’s ordination and just treatment of GLBTQ individuals always get flamed.

For a moment, this made me wonder if making the post was worth it at all. Because I get weary of having people rail at me as if I’m a terrible person because I disagree with what my institution dictates that I believe. It always feels like a personal attack, as my Catholicism (and my feminism, and my bisexuality) are all core facets of my identity, so that attacking any one of these things feels like you’re attacking me and not an idea. I am Catholic. I am a feminist. I am bisexual. These are not ideas. These are the realities of living in my skin. I’m sorry if my reality is offensive to you (actually, I’m not. But I am sorry that I can’t live out my reality and speak my truth in peace, when doing so isn’t hurting anyone.)

Sure enough, the first comment I got on my post was one comparing my argument to the reasoning that eugenicists use. Often, I don’t even respond to these comments because it’s draining, and these people are never interested in dialogue. This time, I did respond. Whether I have the energy to continue the conversation remains to be seen.

Last night as I was deciding whether to go through with the post or not, two things pushed me forward. One was my deadline. I didn’t want to miss it, nor did I want to switch gears at the last minute when I’d struggled most of the day deciding on a topic to begin with. But the second reason was by far the more important one: I wondered, if we are not able to write about what we truly believe, if we are not able to write from our core, even when what’s at our core is pain or embarrassment or snarkiness or fear, then what good is writing at all? If I allow fear to start dominating my writing, then I lose a certain amount of integrity as a writer. And sometimes, my writing self is the one place where I feel my integrity remains intact.

Because here’s the truth: I let fear dominate my actions in real-life far too often. Although I write about being bisexual, there are still people I’m not “out” to in my real life. As my marriage to a man approaches, there are hundreds of people who I know now and will know in the future who will never see me as anything but straight, and I don’t go out of my way to correct them. Last week, I bit my tongue in response to two homophobic remarks. Both times, I rationalized my silence based on “professionalism” (since both happened within a work context.) Both times, I knew why I really remained silent: fear. Fear of being uncomfortable. Fear of having my professionalism compromised. Fear of “forcing” my ideas on others. Fear of many things, but ultimately, just plain old fear nonetheless.

Obviously, I don’t try to hide that hard. The Internet is not exactly a private place, and publishing is not exactly a private act. I know that a quick Google search could lay bare the many things I don’t always talk about in my day-to-day life. So I do consider this writing, knowing there could be offline repercussions, as an act of bravery. But sometimes, my writing feels like the only place in my life where I live up to the type of bravery and honesty I value. And that’s why it’s so important to keep doing it.

Poem #15, Writers Group, and a Meeting w/ a Publisher

Cats for a Day

Every morning I used to ask my cat,
“Why don’t we switch things up a bit?
This time, you go to work,
and I lay around all day.”

She blinked, chirped, walked away.
I grumbled about how some people
just don’t pull their own weight.

But do you remember the time
we decided to play cats-for-the-day?
More commonly known
as playing hooky.

You had the day off work
and I had a bit of an ache in my arms
and my period –
not enough to keep me home,
except that you looked so cozy
in your bed, goading me:
“You should do it. Call in sick
and hang out with me.”

For seven years we shared small spaces
cheered each other up onto our soap boxes
had conversations in broken Spanish
played guitars and cards at the kitchen table.
Even then, I knew those nights of movies
and reading books aloud
were our glorious moments of stretching out
basking in the sun
just because it was there.
Two kittens dashed across
slippery tile floors
as two women lay on two sides
of the same wall
and reached out their voices
where their hands didn’t touch.
Except for the nights when talking
wasn’t enough and my body shook
and the tears came rushing down my face
as fast as you came rushing into my room.

But then one day, you wore an expensive white dress
and we had a big party
and that meant that it was time for you to share
small spaces with someone else,
curled up with him in bed just like
kittens curled up on the couch.

And so I have no regrets
about the half lie I once told
so that I could spend the day
beside you on a scratchy green couch.
Not an ounce of guilt
for when we finally gave in
to our desire to be
cats for a day.

I think I can officially count myself “caught up” for that one missing poem, since I technically wrote three poems on Saturday night, all of them about my childhood relationship with My Little Ponies (there was a My Little Pony pic that I used as a prompt in my Picto-Journal). Two of them were terrible, and really what just felt like a ‘warm-up’ for the third, which might actually be worth salvaging. But nobody ever said these poem-a-day creations had to be good! (If that were the case, I wouldn’t be able to count the dreadful six-liner I jotted out last night while my boyfriend was in the bathroom, but count it I did!!)

I met with my writers group tonight via webcam, which was an exciting change full of the suspense of wondering what-in-the-world-the-person-on-the-other-end-might-be-saying. Dropped connections, distorted voices, and frozen videos abound, but it was still really lovely to hear the voices and see the faces of my writing posse. They’ve promised to scope out better Internet possibilities. Technology could be so wonderful if only it would work!

I’ve been saving the best bit for last: I have a phone meeting on Friday with a publisher who is interested in an anthology of young, Catholic voices. I fielded his “fan-mail” to one of the Young Adult Catholics blog writers last week and decided to respond with a bit of a pitch. We had interest from a Catholic publisher over a year ago in doing a similar project, but his team decided our voices were just too dissident for their press. The press I’ll be talking with on Friday is much more comfortable with dissidence–and that’s the kind of press I like!

Writing for the Web

Over the weekend, I talked to a friend who was stressed out about some web content she was writing. Since most of the writing I do for a “real audience” these days is web writing, I thought I might pass on some of what I’ve learned to her–and to you.

1. Think short. This is probably the most important thing to remember when writing web copy. Most people don’t have the time or the inclination to scroll down a LONG document or to page through many screens to read. They’re reading quickly before they go to work, or between projects at their desks, or on a cell phone screen in the airport. If you can’t keep what you’ve written below 600 words–and even if you can–consider breaking your piece up into subheads, with each section reading about 150 words apiece.
2. Web users don’t read; they scan. Understanding how readers use the web is crucial to web writing. Most folks online have found your writing by entering keywords into a search engine; they’re looking for that one bit of information that applies to them. If it’s buried in a treatise, they’re likely to get frustrated and go someplace else.
3. Search is key. I’m not yet the expert on SEO (search engine optimization) that I’d like to be, but I do know that a lot rides on whether your writing contains words or phrases people are searching. As such, you can throw out that old “print” rule of varying things up by using synonyms, unique phrasing, and SAT-words. Instead, use the words people are likely to be searching–and sneak them in more than once.
4. Be conversational and clear. Folks aren’t looking for the latest literary masterpiece when they’re reading online. They’re looking for interesting, quick information. They’re also coming from diverse educational and occupational backgrounds. That old rule about writing to a “sixth-grade reading level,” definitely applies to the web.
5. Be direct. In other words, avoid passive sentence construction. Passive sentences generally add length to your work, and they make the writing lethargic. The New Moon editors’ manual said passive sentences were like, “sentences that lay around in their pajamas and refuse to do any actual work.” You can think of your readers in the same way; while you don’t want lazy sentences, accept that you’ll have lazy readers. Make your writing do all the work so they don’t have to.

Put Those Poems to Good Use

I just entered three of my poems from National Poetry Writing Month into WEbook‘s poetry contest. WEbook calls themselves the “American Idol” of creative writing. Essentially, it’s a vast web community of writers and readers who write, upload, read, and critique the user-generated content on the site. From time to time, WEbook publishes the projects that receive the best reviews.

I signed up for my WEbook account months ago, but I’ve only started poking around there recently.  Submissions for the poetry project opened on June 15 and will close on August 1, when the voting will begin. That means I submitted my poems relatively early — yet, they still were plopped at the end of a LONG line (23 pages) of already-submitted poetry. My hunch is that the earlier you submit, the better, because there are going to be LOTS of poems to peruse, and probably many voters who won’t keep reading till the end. But there’s still plenty of time for you to throw your own poetry into the ring!

Even if the poetry contest isn’t your thing, WEbook seems like a useful place to get diverse feedback on your work, which could be especially helpful for writers without writers groups. It also seems like a place that could swallow you up and take hours of your precious writing or working time . . . which is why I’ve resisted the urge to go there often. But it may be just what the doctor ordered for anyone with a boring sit-at-the-computer-jobs that allow for daily, web-surfing.

Hats of to everyone who learns English as a New Language

I’ve got a bazillion deadlines coming at the end of this week, so I’m going to keep it brief and share this link* passed on from someone in my writers’ group. I work with a lot of people who are writing in English as a second/new language, and I just have to say, I am continuously amazed by anybody’s ability to learn this crazy language. Heck, it still stumps me, and I’ve heard it since before my birth, got my degree in it, base my hobbies around it, and make my living by it!

* By posting this link, I in no way condone the atrocious grammar therein.

Freelance Job Portal: Elance.com

The ultimate questions for freelancers, of course, is how to find the people who want your expertise. You know they’re out there, and you want THEM to know that you’re out there, too. Last week, I registered with Elance.com, and now I have yet another home on the web:  http://llword.elance.com.

Although I haven’t started bidding on projects yet, already I can see that this is one of the better sites for freelancers. You can get a free or a paid account, with a paid account giving you more “connects”–that is, more opportunities to offer proposals to potential clients. Here are a few things I like about the site.

• A high-functioning “free” account option that allows you to set up a profile and test the waters to see whether the site is worthwhile before shelling out.
• An admissions test before your profile can go public. This can feel like a pain upfront, but in he long run, I like that it ensures only people serious about posting and finding work–and serious about using Elance‘s system correctly–will have public profiles.
• The site also offers skills tests for the expertise areas you claim so that you can offer prospective clients an “unbiased” assessment of your talent.
• The site interface is incredibly easy to use — making exploration there fun and exciting rather than a chore that must be done.

Time will tell whether the site will pay off or not, but I go into it feeling optimistic.

On Publishing, the Internet, and Self Googling

I recently self-Googled in an attempt to see if any of my Demand Studios articles had been published. I didn’t find any of them yet, but self-Googling proved to be an enlightening experience, as always. Because I have a unique name, and because I’ve had a fairly public job for the last few years, I get over 5 pages of nothin’ but the real me when I self Google. Most of it is expected — interviews I gave while with my previous employer, blog posts I’ve written, and old college websites. But there’s always a bit of the unexpected, too, like finding out I was quoted in a Canadian blog about Catholic education.

I still remember a world without the Internet. As an adolescent, I wrote fan-fiction before I knew that fan-fiction even had a name. The first time I logged on at the age of 15, I was astounded and delighted to learn I wasn’t the only person in the world who wrote stories about characters I loved. I immediately began dreaming of a way to publish my fan-fiction online, thinking that “being online is almost as good as being published.” And for a 15-year-old in a rural area, it was. I wasn’t concerned so much with seeing my name in print or getting paid for my stories as I was with the ability to share them with readers. The Internet allowed me to do that–albeit under a fake name, as I was very ‘net cautious.

It has me thinking about how writing is a constant process of unraveling layers to get closer to the truth. The first layer, and often the hardest, is putting form to the thoughts twisting in your mind or beating in your heart. After that, there’s further unraveling when you share what you’ve written, and then again when you share it under your real name, and yes, again when you share it with the world by saying it on the Internet or putting it in print. The ‘net is currently buzzing about a man who lost his job through indescriminate Twittering, and while I like to pat myself on the back and believe I’m more savvy than that, sometimes even I–the girl who once wouldn’t even share my first name online–forget that there are some secrets I just have to let go of after speaking up about them just once online. It makes me realize that publishing, online or elsewhere, is a constant challenge to be brave enough to stand behind what you’ve said — at least, if you have an uncommon name.

Personal Connections Between Authors and Readers

When I was in fourth grade, our teacher read Dear Mr. Henshaw by Beverly Cleary to us. It’s about a kid who starts a correspondence with one of his favorite authors, eventually sharing all the trials and tribulations of his life with him. I’ve thought about this book a lot as an adult who has written for and worked with kids. I thought the book was awesome when I was a kid, but as an adult I wonder if Mr. Henshaw had some boundary issues.

Still, even as an adult, I feel tickled by personal connections with authors, and I can understand how such correspondences happen. Today I got a response from Judy Blume regarding the birthday message I left in her guestbook last week, and I thought, wow, if Judy Blume gets in touch with readers on a personal basis, it must be the thing to do.

The Internet has definitely changed the way that content producers and content consumers interact with one another. I keep a personal book blog but have received emails on more than one occasion from authors thanking me for writing a good review of their books. Some of these turned into lenghthier correspondences, although none of them reached Mr. Henshaw proportions. I have a pretty high threshold for boundary maintenence, and am likely to back off as soon as that boundary feels as though permeation is possible.

But I can see how easy it would be to come down. I mean, who doesn’t want to hear from people who think they’re fantastic? Who wouldn’t want to keep that coming? At the same time, I wonder how authors can possible keep up with it and still find time to write and make lunch and read a book or two. I have trouble keeping up with my email, and I’m not famous (except in my own mind, maybe ).

Sometimes I wonder whether the Internet makes use expect too much from people; or maybe I chronically expect too little. I never expected a response from Judy Blume, nor the other authors I’ve written, but I’ve often gotten one. I wouldn’t begrudge an author who didn’t write back; we’re all busy people, and just because I don’t get a response doesn’t mean there was no one on the other end. But I wonder if so many authors correspond personally with readers now because publishing is floundering, and every reader counts; or if it’s because consumers expectation of personal interaction with content creators has risen so much with the advent of the Internet; or if it’s really happening out of honest and mutual enjoyment.

With all of that said, I really do appreciate content creators who take the time to personally touch base with their fans. I just hope it doesn’t take over their lives. I like to keep my image of creatives taking long walks in the morning looking for inspiration and having dinner with their families after a long day of solitiude. The thought of authors hunched over their email spending more time corresponding than creating is a little depressing, despite how lovely it is to be on the receiving end of that attention.