Shameless Self-promotion

I posted this blurb on Facebook, but since some of you might not be on FB, I'll reiterate here. Forgive me if you are forced to read this nonsense twice.

If you have, here's a pretty peony for you. The end, move on, nothing to see here, keep walking.

 

I am not good at self-promotion. I don't know if it's just my nature or because I'm a Canuck or I'm channeling my inner-British-heritage reserve, but I am just not comfortable tooting my own horn. That being said, I do like to share good news, not so much for the back-patting (which also makes me feel all squidgy inside) but in order to encourage other budding writers, young and old, who may be hesitant to take that leap and send their work out into the world. Also, it lends legitimacy to my days spent on long walks or staring out the window. This is not wool gathering, it's processing information for future material. It qualifies as real work, people.

Just before we left for a trip to Jamaica, oh, a year or so ago (too lazy to look up the date) I learned of a contest for an anthology of travel/camping/cottage stories. When I say "just before" I mean that literally, as in hours before we were leaving.

Luckily the contest rules stated it was acceptable to submit previously published work. Over the past ten years or so, I've had about fifty stories published in various newspapers, magazines and anthologies here in Canada and the U.S. (something else most people don't know about me.)  I figured I'd just attach a few of those to an email and carry on packing for the trip. Easy peasy.

However, the attachments didn't attach.

Since my stories almost always come in at 800 words, I thought heck (more like ah, bloody hell and holy Moses on a bagel) I could just type in a few in the body of an email.

I weighed the urgency of packing vs sending in a few stories which may or may not win, but in the end, I sat down, typed like mad, then forgot all about it. (I learned to SCUBA on this trip to Jamaica, the thrill of which pretty much blotted out all and any other experiences before and after the trip.)

(I like talking in brackets. I feel like I'm whispering in your ear. There should be an "aside" font. Also, there is a great need for a sarcasm font. But I digress. Which is another character trait of writers.)

Quite a while later I learned that I won the contest with one of my stories, then yesterday I was asked if they could use a second one as well. So despite the fact that the dog was barfing up thongs and I'd had no sleep for several nights in a row and it was pouring rain, yesterday was a Good Day.

The anthology is tentatively titled "Never Light A Match In The Outhouse: Funny Stories From Cottage Country."  Not what I'd use as a title, but they never asked me my opinion.

SIWC has come and gone but the hangover lives on

The Surrey International Writers' Conference is over for another year, always with a brutal abruptness that catches me off-guard. Though I am slumped over my laptop with that dull faux-hangover from lack of sleep and information overload (and the odd shot of 12-year-old Macallan single malt Scotch thank you Jack Whyte) I am energized and ready to tackle the work once again. I feel reborn and in a sense, I am.

I give my heartfelt thanks to my friend, the inimitable kc dyer, whose skills for organization are only surpassed by her keen eye for hot tights. Once again, the conference was a winner. Where else can you schmooze with top agents and writers of renown like Diana Gabaldon, Eric Walters, Robert Sawyer and C.C. Humphreys?

If you are a writer and you really want to learn something about the craft and the business of writing, and you want to do it in a nurturing environment surrounded by people aka other writers who really get you, then this is the one.

So I'm off to write and I leave you with a bit of advice.

If there's one thing that's said consistently at the SIWC, it is this:

Do The Work.

I'd amend that to say:

Do The Work FIRST.

If you don't, if you say to yourself well, I have to catch up on the laundry, and there are no groceries in the house, and the dog needs a bath and probably the kids do too, and then I'll get to my writing, well I've got news for you. You'll never get to your writing because all those things are always going to be there and they always need your attention.

So do the work FIRST. And teach your family to do their own laundry, accept that dogs smell, order in a pizza and let the kids skip the occasional bath (it's like making beds - they only get messed up again later.) You'll be better off for it. It doesn't make you a bad mother. It makes you a good role model for your children. Now stop reading this, and get to it! Who knows? Maybe your book will end up here: