My last day of peace and I’m already prickling. Not good at all. I also have a long list of things I’d like to get done (housework, writing, cooking…) and I’m sitting on the laptop, flipping back and forth between screens, trying to get motivated to actually do something productive. I’ve managed to do my version of ‘clearing off the kitchen table’, which really isn’t much more than removing about 5 items and then shuffling the rest around. I think the proper way to do it (short of removing it all off into the trashcan with the sweep of my arm) is to take everything off of the tabletop, then put back only what is supposed to be on it. I wonder how well that actually works…

I could probably make a sizable dent in the chaos that surrounds me just by hanging up a few articles of clothing, putting away vending set up items in their storage bin, and/or washing the sink of dishes. But no–here I sit.

I will say this for myself: at least I’ve added two pages to The Open Book this morning. I believe I wrote about six over the weekend in an effort to finish this one last chapter. I do have some content to add to an earlier one, since I thought of some things during one of my drives to and from the Steampunk unLimited show (good time, by the way!). I will probably hit that part when I make my first editing round. I can tell that I am still farther away from finishing this book (and here I mean publishing) than I thought, because no other muses are vying for attention just yet. That’s not a bad thing–I need the focus to all be on this one. Some colorful and weird dreams would be nice and helpful–and not ones of lighting the bottoms of severed horse hooves for torches. Not quite like that. I’m not sure I can work with that…At least not in this book…

My scattered brain is taking me elsewhere right now, so I guess I should move on. Perhaps I’ll come back to this later…

I’m taking a few minutes to type this up, while waiting for it to be time to leave to go and see “Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children”. I will give my review at the end of this post when I get home!

In the interim:

1. Tomorrow the Steampunk unLimited event commences (YAY!!). I will be there to set up in the early evening, and if anyone wanders through and wants to shop, I’ll be happy to sell. Also, I have been given a space in the authors’ caboose on Sunday at 11:30am to do a reading. I suspect I’ll probably read bits and pieces from A Potagerie of Rejects, since it’s the newest book, HOWEVER, I will bring the first few chapters from the The Open Book, and if any fans of the Twins Trilogy show up for it, they will get a preview… Speaking of the twins: today is Bonnie and Beau’s birthday. Born by artificial means of a c-section, it’s only fair to admit that this is the central date to my ‘twin’ Chris’ and my birthdays (the 6th and 19th, respectively). We, being artificial twins as well, it only seems an appropriate birthdate. That being said…
2. I worked on The Open Book for a while this morning, and plan to get to it some more upon my return this afternoon. I’m working on closing up the last unfinished chapter. It is stretching out a bit longer than expected, but I’m taking it in stride and making sure I get the outlined moments connected right. This draft will be extremely rough, but I shouldn’t have a problem with smoothing things out and filling in any remaining detail holes. It’s my intention to get it at least half done (or to the point of where I have something substantial already written) today, and then to finish it up tomorrow. As I got this week’s homework done last night, it’s all I have on my plate before heading out to the event for set up.

And there we’ve come full circle. More to come…

My Review of “Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children”

First off, it was nice to see a Tim Burton film without Helena Bonham Carter or Johnny Depp in it. While both good at their craft, this movie wasn’t for them, so it was a wise casting move to pass them over. Second, while it was a little jarring in some sections where the editing from one scene to the next was…sloppy, it was still a captivating film and a pleasure to watch. Maybe not so fluid as Crimson Peak, but still beautiful in hundreds of other ways. Everyone did an excellent job (except the woman who played the aunt delivering a birthday gift…she seemed very out of place…), so all characters were quite believable. Not to mention the extra bonus, as I had no idea Terrance Stamp and Dame Judi Dench were in it! I will definitely see it again.

That said, and on a really personal note–

1. As an authoress: it was great eye candy to stir my imagination and to refill my creative well. It’s been a while since I’ve had that, and shutting off my phone for two hours really helped. I got to just BE and experience it, rather than halve my attention between something awesome and something invasive (though it’s not really halving as in 50/50–usually it’s more like 97/3 and the creative influence is not the heavier side). I had moments during the film where I caught myself thinking “I really need to write more and faster! I really need to be in a place where I am financially able to spend days upon days being absorbed in my writing–if that’s what I want to be doing”. I put myself into a number of job roles in a matter of seconds, and at each one found myself asking, “But when would I write?” One of those roles being a criminal psychologist (I’m a 2-day-old victim of debit card fraud…and a damn good detective, it turns out), and another being a Miss Peregrine. Yes, a nanny of sorts…
2. As a once mother: this tugged–A LOT. To be surrounded by other people’s children, nurturing and loving them…Getting back what I lost and giving back even more in return. And as great at that as I would be, on a large scale (say, a school mistress, for instance), the above question popped in once again: “When would I write?” Never mind that I don’t know the first thing about running a school–nor care to–and would rather never deal with things like the education department or anything else that a middle man would more effectively deal with than I. A smaller number of children–that I could balance. In any case, it’s a nice little dream to be a mentor or the like to anyone, but as I said a few days ago: All I have are my books, and that is what I will have to be content with, whether I like it or not.

A quick popping on for an update:

The Open Book is officially 2 gaps away from going into editing phase. While I suspect there will be quite a bit to hammer out during editing, just getting it that far is a huge victory! It’s coming, you guys! It’s really going to happen! Because of where things stand with it, it is a very realistic possibility that this book will be released before 2016 is over. I’m thrilled, because it’s been some time since I’ve released more than one book a year, and I have some making up to do. I really owe you this one, so I’m more than a little relieved. I’m not saying that these last parts to finish up won’t be a challenge…one more than the other…but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel… Huh. Ironic to say so. You’ll see what I mean once you read it. I think I’d love to help this draft to completion and announce it on Thursday–October 13th is Bonnie and Beau’s birthday, after all, and how beautiful would that be??

Other news (in case I haven’t yet said so): I’m on the docket to attend Far Point 2017 as a guest author. Lots of panels and great people to talk to there, so I hope you can make it! I’ll likely talk about it more as it gets closer. Also, Steampunk unLimited is this coming weekend! YAY! Books and boutonnieres will be available for purchase–including copies of A Potagerie of Rejects. Not steampunk by any stretch, but why hold back the availability? I will have 8 copies, so if you want one, best alert me asap!

That may be all there is for now…certainly all that comes to mind. You know that will change.

Not something I talk about much because it isn’t writing related, but it is life related, and it’s still pretty important to me–that being the fact that I didn’t get much of a chance at motherhood. I was one briefly–to two beautiful boys–but due to life and circumstance and choosing the greater good for their sake (god knows, it wasn’t and never has been for mine!!!), I lost out on the privilege of raising them. I am now surrounded by women on one side who don’t have children, either because they chose not to or couldn’t have them, and on the other side by women who have had them (or are still raising them), and I’m stuck in an emotional charybdis that kills me daily. I never had the opportunity to have any more children–never was with anyone who wanted them, or anyone who I actually felt comfortable creating another life with. It has not been fun, and now it’s too late. It’s pretty clear to me that that ship has sailed forever. There are no words for what that feels like…

So today while I sat in the laundromat, diligently working on my Anthropology reading assignment, a young girl came in with her grandmother. She wore wedge heels–faux suede, it looked like–very similar to a pair I have. I got up to get more quarters from the change machine, complimented the girl on her shoes, and then the machine and I argued about whether or not it was going to take my fiver. This young girl watched the struggle for a few minutes as she walked up and down the row of washing machines, pushing the opened doors closed with her body, one loud snap of the latch after another. She finally came to me and asked if she could try the change machine, stating that it sometimes behaved for her… It didn’t, but I managed to get the second machine to cough up the handful of two bits. I stated, “I guess we just had to warm it up!” to which she agreed with a grin. I went on to put my clothes into the dryers and she tagged along, striking up a conversation with me about stuff she’s found in the dryers in the past and things she’s left in her pockets and put through the wash, and of course her shoes–all intriguing to me, naturally. Once my clothing was tumbling, I resumed my place at a little table to continue working on my homework, pretty certain that the little girl had had her fill of me, such seems to be the attention span of kids. But she surprised me and sat at the table with me. I managed to engage her in about fifteen minutes of conversation about school and her favorite subjects (found out she’s in second grade), and how she hates art, except for when they paint. She loves gym and music, and there was a moment of hesitation when her grandmother called to her and said it was time to leave…

I woke up this morning hoping for something good to happen–a big win, because I keep taking the sucker punches in the gut instead of rolling with them–and on my drive to work, forced myself to list off each and every amazing thing that had happened since waking up. I’d come up with nine things along the drive–pretty good, considering. Meeting up with this little second grader blew all of that out of the water, and yet none of the nine things were any more complex or simple than meeting her. It’s really hard to explain to anyone what it’s like to be in my shoes when it comes to things involving children.  What it feels like to remember the loss. What it feels like to recognize the missing out. What it feels like to know that no legacy will follow me after I’m gone.

For the people who threw up roadblocks over the years, trying to tamper with my success, trying to steer me away from my books and my dreams–I hope they–of all people–read this. I hope they understand. I hope they really, truly grasp the reality that all the times my writing came up and I expressed my excitement and passion about it, it has been for the absolute and painful truth that, as a mother: my writing is all that I will ever have. 

I had someone try to argue with me that I have every weekend off, as though I actually get to sit around and laze about and do whatever I want with my time. 1–forgetting that I’m on call for my job 24/7. 2–forgetting that I also go to school and have homework to do every day. 3–forgetting that I’m an author and, as that is my real life’s work, there is no break from that (not that I want one!!) unless my muses aren’t speaking to me. With this reality in hand, I do have quite a bit of homework to catch up on, thanks to the week that I have had and all of the damage control and cleaning up after others that I found myself doing. By the time I got home in the evenings these past few days, there was nothing left of my energy for what *I* needed to do for myself. But oh! That’s what weekends are for, right? Aside from still needing to get through Wednesday’s two chapters of algebra, and two modules of Anthropology (including 2 quizzes, and hopefully catching up on my reading assignment), I have it set in my mind to get back to The Open Book, at least enough to push through completing a chapter–all during my “time off” this weekend. If I am able to devote a day/writing session per each chapter needing finished up, I could have this draft done in about six days. Maybe not consecutive days, but six days, nonetheless. I’m not even going to talk about the errands I really need to run, or the housework I need to do…Because–you know–I have every weekend off. Someday I really will have the weekends off again. Someday…
Not today.

The proof copy of A Potagerie of Rejects arrived today, and aside from a few minor adjustments with images (which I think I’ve resolved now), book baby #13 has arrived! Some strangenesses also arrived with it:

This has been a trying time of life for me. Yes, some of it has stemmed from the past two years’ financial strife, and while some of that has eased, different struggles have come up and I seem robbed of my joy from every which way that I turn. I believe I described my current place to someone today as ‘swimming in quicksand’. I’m 100% in survival mode right now–getting through 1-5 minutes at a time, with very little looking ahead. It’s a nasty way to live, precious. Having my brand new book arrive today and getting to hold it for the first time was of course a thrill, though I was much more reserved in how I wanted to feel about it. I described this sensation to someone recently as feeling like wanting to jump for joy, but the ceiling is constantly too low. It’s a sensation of feeling stunted and caught in the brambles of someone else’s garden. Oddly, there is talk in another of my books, currently under way, of how some characters feel they are trapped in a physical location. They are told flat-out that they’re not and no one else is either. They can leave whenever they wish. I try to think about that when I hit one of these days like today, and remember that I’m not trapped at all. It’s merely the waiting game when it comes to more suitable opportunities that will help me make necessary adjustments; opportunities that are there, and even then, my struggles are against thin membranes that are due to break at some point. Like my books, everything is born eventually in one way or another. So in the meantime, I must continue to eat, take my vitamins, rest, and write. Those are the things I have maneuverable control over, and that is just fine. That is good. That will keep me strong for the positive changes that will help me to get to a healthier place.

Yesterday and last night I picked up that horrendous pirate story that I mentioned a short while ago–the one where I named all the characters after people I had in my life at the time. I’ve added more and done some hard tweaking to improve bits of it. I know I quoted a lot verbatim back during its original writing, but some of the dialogue was just so trite and… I don’t even know what the hell!? Stripped from old IRC conversations, that’s what! Man. That alone is reason for amusement! Anyway, some chunks of conversation are MUCH better now. Enough so that I look forward to re-reading those upgraded sections and have been able to add a few more sentences each time. Might be salvageable! There’s another story that is loosely related to it–written a good 5 years earlier (as this first one is now around 19.5 years old…sheesh! No wonder it needs work!!!) and I have already done some work to turn it around. There are some real zingers in the dialogue of that one–lines that I read again and again and just sit back thinking, “Well, damn!!” By that, I mean I actually impressed myself some. No telling if either of these will work up into books. I actually have about half a dozen that will be books, and that’s where my focus should be at the moment. The Open Book, for instance. I finally gave it a glance over this evening, now that Potagerie is done, to see what areas need to be completed. Still not a heck of a lot–which is a relief–and if this cold, windy, rainy–perfect–weather holds through the weekend, I might be able to get into the right frame of mind to plow through at least some of those unfinished places. Now there is a thought that inspires me! At this point, it won’t be done in time for my next event, but before the end of the year. A December book baby…I don’t think I’ve had one of those yet! Maybe even November… Strange as it sounds–and as much as I want to finish it for its own sake of completion–I am really looking forward to it because I am consumed with curiosity over what I will heavily work on next. There’s always something pretty amazing about seeing which muses speak up and for what story/stories.  What adventure will I be taken on next? Where will I go? What things will I discover of my creations that I will never be able to un-discover?? It’s fascinating–you must trust me on that!

Thinking about that has helped me to feel better than I have for the majority of the day. I think that’s a good up-note on which to end this post.

A few days ago, I uploaded A Potagerie of Rejects and ordered a proof copy. There may be a few more minor fixes to be had, but I wanted to be sure the formatting was okay, as there are several images in this book and, well, sometimes it’s hard to tell without seeing the actual book. So that should be arriving some time this week–I can hardly wait!

In the interim, I spent all day yesterday outside, consorting with nature. I visited Stonehedge in Tomaqua, PA–beautiful and just what I needed to add to my well… I also foraged and got to try a few things: Autumn Olives, which taste much like pomegranate seeds; Kousa dogwood berries, which taste something like apricots; and seeds from jewel weed–which are sort of nutty tasting, but are just a blast to pop open. Ah, the simple amusements in life! There were quite a few streams, pathways, gardens and ponds to explore. I also found a huge paper hornets’ (?) nest–It was impossible not to think of Winnie-the-Pooh. I was there for ten (Uninterrupted!!!) hours and could have been there for days. I found one little section that I could have spent a lifetime in, writing page upon page. In any case, I did get about seven pages written on my mystics/witches/fantastical story while there. Here I am in what will someday be the Lunar Memorial Garden:

The weather was also gorgeous, and I dressed in one of the ensembles I made to suit me, I was really in my element. (Thank you to my sweetheart for taking this picture, as well as taking me there in the first place and introducing me to foraging!)

So, that story I just mentioned above…This is the one I didn’t want to write–not being all about the whole witches and wizards and faeries and such–but I still feel compelled to create it, thanks to a dream I had too intriguing to just let go. I’m about thirty pages into this one and, thankfully, I have been able to somewhat alter the ending so it’s not identical to that of another story I’m working on. I’m still not sure how that happened, seeing as the story lines are so very, very different! It’s also looking like the ending to this one may not actually be the ending. I can see this being a momentary stopping point and by the time I connect the dots and get to it, there will be much more that follows. At least, enough to really distinguish it from the other story. (I’m hoping at least one of these two gets a title soon. I really rather prefer to call pieces of my work by their names.) So here I have gone off on a bit of a ramble, totally distracted by how much I need to give Louie a combing while she’s hopped up on catnip. More to come later…

http://www.stonehedgegardens.org

I have opened up pre-sales of A Potagerie of Rejects as of today. I should have copies to sign and send out by mid-October, and will have a more specific date in a bout a week or so. In the interim and if you are interested, you can pre-order a copy to pick up at the Steampunk unLimited event (October 14-16) for $13, or you can have it shipped to you at about the same time for $18 (includes shipping within the US. Outside of the US, please let me know and I will have to research the cost. You can estimate at least $30…). In any case, if you happen to be interested in either form of pre-order, you may paypal the funds to heather@heatherehutsell.com and put “Pre-order Potagerie” in the memo box! Thank you in advance! I’m really looking forward to its birth!!

Up at a decent time and completely unmotivated to do anything. That’s not really what I wanted to write a post about, but this is where I am at the moment, and until I figure out how to get out of it, well, why not post something?

Today’s agenda lies heavily in my algebra homework, as well as studying for a test. This entire past week did not leave for much time, nor much of a mental space to work on my homework, so what I have to do is from Wednesday’s class…Yeah, I know–days ago already. It’s hard not to get down on myself about this, and at the same time, it’s pretty easy to pinpoint why I’ve been distracted like this. Fortunately, I’m making steps to change my situation–to make it more livable. I know I’m not the only person out there who just can’t lie down and let life trample all over them. It’s hard to know when to start making those moves though, but for me, the biggest indicator that something in my life has to either change or be cut loose, is when it impacts my ability to write. This is happening right now. It’s been happening for a while, off and on, but heavily in the past few months. It’s not hard to know what needs to be done about it in this case–fortunately–though getting change to happen takes longer than I care for. In any case, the truth still stands: I’m happy when I write, but I can’t write when I’m not happy… Not sure what the Universe doesn’t understand about all that, or why I keep getting into these mediocre-to-nightmarish situations that cause me to hit so many walls. I’ve been given a gift and I do not enjoy forcing things from it when I’m in a time like this. It doesn’t work that way and for me, it never will. Nevertheless: change. I can’t control how quickly it comes, but I can control that it does come. And it will.

About a month ago, I wrote out my scenario for an ideal life. It was amazing how simple it actually was, and how blissfully happy I found myself in that life. I have such a hard time wrapping my head around why I haven’t yet achieved it. What am I missing? What am I doing wrong? What am I doing right? It’s not complicated, so the road to get there shouldn’t be either. I suppose the first step is to do what I would for changing any unsatisfactory situation: cut out the rubbish and make room for the good. If I only had the means to continue taking those leaps of faith–hard to do on my budget! And I don’t think I’ve done myself any favors by deciding that I probably won’t ever make a living on my books. That’s not actually up to me though–it’s up to people who would need to be buying my books! I don’t have much control over that part. In fact, I do my part: I write them and make them available. I show up at events when I’m able and I talk about them and writing, and try to create interest. What else would you like from me??

Speaking of money-making schemes…I have tossed around the idea over the years of being a wedding planner. Not that I like weddings much–in fact, I really don’t care for them at all! And I think that is the point: I don’t like the typical wedding that everyone seems to have to have. (You can read about exactly what I mean in A Potagerie of Rejects!) As a wedding planner, I would have a strict contract that would state the bride and groom would plan for what They want, no other opinions would be considered. None. I don’t care who is footing the bill. A bride and groom can pull off the perfect wedding for them without help from daddy or threats from their monster-in-law to be. It can be done. I also wouldn’t allow the bride to shop in a bridal ’boutique’. Her gown would be custom made for her, and she’d be required to do her research and bring in pictures of what she’d want. Then she’d work with a professional seamstress (and I know a GREAT one! No…not me) to create her gown. And by the way: a custom made gown doesn’t necessarily cost more than a generic off-the-rack gown. I had someone come to me years ago, wanting a Victorian gown similar to my Time Jumper dress. I gave her a quote and we talked about details, and then I never heard from her again. I think $1100 for THIS (minus the watches) made to fit one specific person, would have been a steal!!

But… People get confused. They listen to other people who don’t know what they’re talking about, and then get led down roads that aren’t meant for them. I get it. It would be my job not to let that happen. Anyway…Wedding Planner…I think it would be a good job for me and there would be a lot more unique and suitable weddings going on out there. No idea how to get started on that, though I suspect sticking some business accounting classes into my school curriculum might be wise. In the meantime: I have more urgent changes to make that will allow me to keep my head above water and my passions at hand. I’m not sure I was taken seriously when I said I was done with the pointless, mind-numbing, life-stunting stress, but I meant that and still do. There’s no fathomable reason why my life has to be so damn hard for the entire time I’m on this planet. I can’t do much for other people while in a position like this, and as that is the case, seems like such a waste to even be here at all.  Things must change. There is no other option.

I didn’t realize that there were about thirty pieces in A Potagerie of Rejects, but as I went through it today to see how many more I needed to do a last edit on, I was amazed at what I found! I had also been hoping for a page count of around 120 or so, and I believe it’s around 135, so that is definitely a good thing! In between doing anthropology homework and quizzes, and studying for my algebra test, I’ve been working on those last edits, trying my hardest to be sure I can order a proof copy by next Friday (!!!), and then turn around and order copies for my inventory the following week (or as soon as I get the proof and deem that all’s well). Exciting, yes?? A ‘birth date’ is nearly in sight! The best part about it–though there are several best parts about having a brand new book in hand–is that I can get back to The Open Book and work on the last of it as well. I am ashamed to say that I haven’t had a chance to work on it in about two weeks (though, not my fault–outside world invasion!) but I’ve had some rather interesting dreams lately, some of which might help. I also had a chance to go walking on Friday afternoon, and am going to try my damnedest to make that a part of my weekly routine–I Need It. My Sanity Needs It. That being said, let the ideas come flooding in–for that book, for future books, for the sake of letting me be Me again, Please.

In light of A Potagerie… nearly being in print, and the fact that I have been having more interesting dreams as of late, I’m considering another anthology for future (later) release, made up of strange and random dreams I’ve had. These, of course, being ones that don’t turn into novels as I write them up! I had a good one early this morning and went ahead and stuck it into A Potagerie, so if you’re not privy to my facebook ramblings (which is quite all right because I actually loathe the place and don’t often have many great things to share!), you can see it in the book soon. Come to think of it, there are several of my dreams in A Potagerie, so you’ll have access to those as well. As I sit here and think about this, I realize that it wouldn’t be the first book of my dreams–Woven Dreams was ALL dreams…

DUH.

Anyway…this future anthology will have more than 8 dreams, and may not be illustrated…or maybe it will. I would like to have more illustrations to go with my writing. I think they are important to have in books so the eyes and brain can have a chance to breathe while still being entertained. Too many words in a row is not healthy. (My theory.) After some recent health issues of my own, and some epiphanies as to the causes and how to handle them, I’m pretty much all about healthy right now. After all, what use am I if I’m dead?