We Need Mentors

I have a life mentor. He is not a writing mentor, but he can still dispense great wisdom in many areas. I used to mentor students in middle school. When I would show up to eat lunch with my mentee, his friends would ask, "why do you need a mentor?" Maturity didn't allow for him to have a good answer. He just knew I was a good friend who invested my time into his life. My answer would be, "we all need a mentor."

In a previous blog Wisdom vs Good Advice, I mentioned the word mentor. I needed to follow that up with the significance. I've spent 20 years working with parents and kids. My strongest advice for parents was to find a third voice in their kids' life (assuming there were two parents). Find a mentor who can speak life and wisdom to your children. Kids are heavily influenced by outside forces. Connecting them with a positive person who shares your values is a great way to influence their decisions and build character into their life.

The same goes for writing. I'm following a ton of blogs and how tos. I'm like a kid who is starving for wisdom and seeking a mentor to show me a good path. I do not have that one person who has been through the woods, gotten lost, and now knows the way. I am seeking and I know the value of having one.

Everyone needs a mentor. Whether you are scribbling out your first few sentences or on to your second book, we all need a mentor. Who is breathing wisdom into your life? Find someone who has been where you want to be and latch on. Openly confess, "I want to watch and learn." They will probably laugh in your face but a true mentor will do so in love and provide a closet full of wisdom on life or writing.

Wisdom vs Good Advice

When my friends said everyone was doing it, my mom told me to grow up first
When my girlfriend said I should try it, a teacher suggested I should think first
When my coworker said to do it, my mentor reminded me why not

What do all these have in common? Everyone wants good advice. We seek it daily. Which college do I attend? Should I marry this guy? Do I quit my job? Who should I vote for? What could be better than good advice? Good wisdom! 

I see good advice. I recognize it. It puts another step in front of me. But is good advice always good, long term? Has it been tested and proven in the fire? That's the critical test. My writing groups are filled will seekers. We want feedback on taking this path or that one. I've argued with many who simply have a different perspective. I can't change that. I can only seek to understand their point of view. But often, I'm baffled at how quickly a question is proposed and the responses are all over the map. When multiple paths are presented, which do you take?

Seek wisdom over good advice. Often times good wisdom is being sold in the "how to books." I get that these guys want to make a buck. But true mentors build into people. There is an old quote I love. Leaders don't build followers, they build other leaders. True mentors who love writing, want to build other writers who succeed. Here is what to look for if you are seeking wisdom over good advice. 

1) Listen to the people who have failed before they have succeeded. They have far more valuable stories to share.

2) Be careful of the writers to have one book to their name and a second book titled, "The Best Way to Write a Book."

3) Our elders have the wisdom of experience - if you don't agree with everything, you can still listen for a few nuggets of truth.

4) Follow the head, not the heart. Think smart, not with feelings. 

5) There are groups with experienced writers. Latch on to those the common voices before you listen to the rest of us who have opinions on everything. 

Five Annoyances of Writing Groups

This is just for fun. Don't be offended, I love you all but, often I am left shaking my head at the absurdity of a post in my writing group. Here are just five annoyances of writing groups. Feel free to add your own.

1) Non-Writers

"Can someone give me the name of my Character? Will you name my book? What should be the first paragraph of my novel?" Seriously. You want to be taken seriously as a writer, but you cant flesh out the first sentence? This drives me bonkers. If you need this much attention; get a dog. 

2) Hijackers

I love to see post of those who have publicly published work. We want to celebrate with them. What drives me wonky...Under the post are those who hijack the party. 

"Me too. I published my work a month ago. Here is MY book, the cost, and the beg for reviews." Learn to share joy. Support others without propping yourself up. 

3) The Experts

First, I am no expert. I am gaining immediate education and sharing about hole I just fell in or obstacle I jumped over. Wring groups are full of one book experts. They sold 100 copy's of their book, wrote a self-publishing book, and now they know it all. Amazing.

4) Trigger Happy

I am no longer surprised at how trigger sensitive people want to comment and talk about whatever it is that triggers them. I get the warnings. I don't agree, but I get what you are saying. But if you are sensitive, stop commenting under the offensive post. Stop talking about it. Run away to your happy place. 

5) Elementary Illustrations

You are posting your illustrated book to the group at least two times a day. Fine. But when the illustrations looks like my 5yrs old accomplished it, that really grabs my gut. There is not a blog I haven't read that doesn't talk about using professional looking illustrations. What's is going on with the theses cartoons from kindergarten. Is anyone buying his stuff? If you cant afford an illustrator, save. Unless you have proven you can make good money from your illustrations...don't do it yourself. 

All Writers Are Capitalist

Before you crack my skull, let me flesh this out. There are basically two categories we fall in. There are those of us who claim to write for the love and opportunity to share to the masses. We will forever write and share, ever hopeful that someone will read our stuff. We give it away for free or post a meager price for our precious piece. 

Then, there are a few of us that will write, promote, and hope to have a minute of success when our work is finally complete. We want the almighty coin. We will work and sell hard for our precious masterpiece.  

I spend way too much time reading post regarding either one of these categories. I do not mean to get political and I'm not criticizing one way or the other. I'm not even sure what the opposite of a capitalist is. Its not socialism or communism by definition. 
Are all writers capitalist?

I have a hard time believing we are not all producing for potential profit. I know there is the argument about writing for ourselves and for the love of it. However, what If I told you your work was really good and there was a market for it? I want to share your masterpiece with the world and give you the profits; You would take it.

That's capitalism in its simplest form - for those readers outside capitalist America. (Private-Individual Ownership of an item with the means to produce and profit)
We may claim we are not in it just for the money, but honey, if someone showed us the dollar - we are in. If you are still not convinced...

Let's say your item is free. You want attention and readers because you are in a writing group and you are informing people of your gift. Let's say I set up a page to sell writing to the masses. With your permission, I offer your work on my sight. Its your work, your name, all credit to you. I have the suave of a salesman. I start making money on your product that credits you. Your proclimation was once, "I just want to write from the heart, not make money." My guess is, you wouldnt stand by and watch me make money off your work. You would want a piece of the action. Well, my friends...you are a capitalist. Why does it matter?
Cause I'm calling BS on the old lines about writing for the love of it and not wanting to make money. Get real with yourselves. It's ok for writers to be capitalist. 

What If You Suck @Writing?

Our writing groups are filled with the concern of, "Am I good enough." We may not be prepared for the hits, but we definitely put ourselves out there. Then, reality comes. We have the ever faithful encourager who push the positive notion that we are doing good because we write for the love of practice or hobby. 

What happens when someone tells us our writing isn't very good? 
Passion can lead to persistence but passion does not equal good. 
There are clearly levels of great, good, & greatly needs improvement. Criticism is hard to swallow. 

Anyone who starts something will get better at it. But, there comes a time when success is measured. Unfortunately, too may people give us the irresponsible statements..."You can be whatever you want to be; whatever you put your mind to..." Science and reality TV proves that not everyone is going to make the cut, no matter how much they enjoy the task.  Everyone is is not physically or mentally designed for the greatest of everything.

Writing is the same. We want our book to be shared by the thousands. We all have a few goals to achieve. In the end, success will be measured in numbers or simple accomplishments.

So, you discover you are not that good. This doesn't mean quit. Write because you love to write and your family loves your stuff. It really is fun to be lost in your own stories. But don't let it define you or discourage you. Something bigger is out there waiting for you to pick it up and run. 

So how do you measure success with writing?
1) Don't ask momma: don't just ask the pleasers in your life. They love you and will never hurt your feelings on purpose.
2) Seek wisdom: Seek the experienced opinion. Listen to the wisdom of those who have been around the block verses the wannabes who think they know all there is after crafting one book. 
3) Check all the factors - Are you getting better? How are you measuring success? Are you giving up early or just spinning wheels too many years later?

Poor Relationships Equal Poor Launches

Do relationships effect your book?

All the self-help gurus of the self-publishing world have made clear the basic fundamentals for self-publishing. They boil down to a few tricks. One of those tricks is relationships. 

We all want the multiplied five star reviews. We all need the beta readers who will give us feedback. We hope there are people who will share our masterpiece. But, what does it mean when we hit little or none of the above? Poor relationships. 

I've got too many friends who do a lot of begging and not enough building. If you asking me for something, I'm usually willing to help out. If you beg me for something, I'm a little less likely. However, if you have taken the time to build a relationship, you have me hooked. True friends root for one another. True friends go the extra mile for the other. So what happens when you need twenty, five star reviews? Most of us end up begging.

A good book requires a 30-60 day window of pre-launch promotion. This is where relationships kick in. I'm learning that I've got to build a team of dedicated, pre-launch people, who are willing to take on a few tasks that serve my agenda. These people are giving precious time to help me. They know if they are being used and abused.   

This is the difference between my seven hundred friends on Facebook and those who I will actually show up to their door offering soup when they are sick. Those friends are few and far between. Those are the people who will be on our side. 

Relationships are hard! Successful relationships require hard conversations, laughs, and a lot of encouragement. Friends give of ourselves regardless of how its received or reciprocated. We do this because of our own generosity, not what we expect of others.

When the "sixty days away" alert dings on your calendar, we need to take a look how we have treated others. 
1) Share more than take
2) Balance truth and encouragement
3) Give more than you get
4) Be grateful     
5) Build friends more than followers
How about you? How do you build relationships with those who will help launch your masterpiece?

Why You Should Stop Writing

I'm going to ask you to stop writing. You maybe too focused on the trees and you can't see the forest. It's possible you are marred in writers block or searching for a different angle. Just stop.

As I scroll on Netflix, I'm reminded of a few great movies I watched way back when. I'll watch them again and be reminded of a great line or a unique twist. We all do this from time to time and the same should be done with our unfinished work. Follow me for a few seconds...

I recently lost a manuscript for an entire year. When I rediscovered it, I had fresh eyes. I reread this thing like it was brand new. There were flaws that bugged me and dialogue that drew a smile.  It was a great feeling to go back to this project with a different perspective.

We write in the moment. Our moods and circumstances put digits on the computer or ink on the page. When we walk away from a project for a while, we can often return with a new attitude or even in a deep and darker place. From there we can write fresh but with familiar eyes.
If you haven't don't this yet, stop writing. Walk away. Come back later. Then, reread and write.
This isn't new advice peep, just a reminder.  Stay fresh!

Virtual Mexico

I looked around to see a little old lady sitting on the steps of her iron gated porch. In front of me was the train tracks in Mexico that took me fifteen minutes to locate. Fortunately, I have a great view of the surrounding residential area. Too bad, I was only in my living room writing about virtual travels using Google Maps street view.

Let me just say, if you haven't been to Mexico, you are missing out. Before we had kids, my wife and I visited every year. No so much any more. But that's ok, because I wanted to relive it all in my writing. When I want to get a good description of anything, I book a first class virtual trip (on my couch, with my snacks, and computer) to where ever I need to go. It's the next best thing to being there.

My first book is a about a boy traveling from a war torn America to Mexico. If I create a sequel/prequel, it may land me in China. I've got friends teaching in China. I'm about to make another virtual trip to see if I can make a story out of it. Honesty, I love to go on real location. My second (almost edited) novel is centered around the wooded forest of a small town. Guess where I will be spending a few days gathering data?  Really, you've got to try this. A great story could virtually be written from anywhere in the world Google lets you stroll down the street. Grab a snack, crank up your writing device, and just go.

He Took IT Out

Share your first impressions of the first two pages...
BOOK: C BOY RUN: A boy with cancer must travel through a worn torn America and locate his father in Mexico
Jeffrey Skinner

ONE FOR THE MONEY

The click released the kink and the drip began its deadly drop into the boy's bare chest. The nurse offered a miniature cup of water from a silver tray.

“We don't drink the water,” the boy’s mom insisted.

The nurse put the cup back on the tray. “The water is tested weekly so there is no danger.”

If anyone had a water tap running, everyone was afraid to drink. One month had passed since the Center for Disease Control was sieged and raided. It was broadcast nationally before the Silence came. Every news analyst supported the idea that an attack on the nation’s water supply could be immediate. Milk and bread were no longer the survivors pick. The water bottle became the horde of choice.

A nurse walked past the open curtain and begins ringing a hand bell as if she was collecting change for the needy.

“I need to flush this line,” Elias's nurse said with a quivering hand.

His mother became alert. “We just started. Is something wrong?”

“We talked about this moment Elias,” the nurse said to the boy.

Karen stood up. “We can't just stop now, like this. Finish, please.”

“You will need to find a place to get treatment. They are taking over this hospital.”

“We walk five miles each day,” Karen pleaded. “Every week. Where are we going to go?”

There was a stampede of footsteps and chatter beyond the curtain. The nurse began unhooking the IV from the boy’s chest port.

She kissed Elias on his head, squeezed his mother’s hand, and reached deep to stall her emotion when the pleading eyes of a mother connected with hers. The nurse left the bedside and never returned. Karen parted the room curtain and peered out to see the makeshift lobby.

Hospital rooms were too dark so the nurses erected curtained rooms in the lobby to allow sunlight from the wall windows. Moms and dads were poking their heads out of their curtain rooms and sharing a look of dismay. These parents knew that within fifty miles of the perimeter, it would be hard to locate a hospital that wasn't taking care of wounded soldiers.

Another mom stuck her head out of her son’s curtain room. “Is the building on fire?”

Again, the nurse paced the lobby waving a hand bell and announcing, “Moms and dads, it's time.Please go home and be safe.”

Karen looked back at her son sitting up straight with wide eyes. “We need to leave honey. Get your shirt on.”

She grabbed Elias by the hand and looked deep into his life. She sobbed and like a kitten, rubbed her cheek on his smooth head.

“Don't ever forget how much I love you,” Karen sniffed between tears.

Elias flipped his shirt on and grabbed his tattered baseball cap that concealed his shaven head. Karen grabbed her son’s hand and together they dodged their way through frantic nurses and families scattering like the wacky neon patterns of the lobby carpet.

A doctor remained in the middle of the chaos, “Please be calm and safe. Look for the exits and don't run down the stairs,” he repeated.

Karen reached into her purse and stretched her arm out to the doctor with an envelope in her hand.

“Doctor Blake. Please Doctor Blake,  I think it’s time.”

The doctor took the sealed envelope and hugged Karen.

“Find peace in this new world. I pray for your journey,” the doctor said. 

As Karen and her son reached the stairs, Karen froze. Marching through the door was a small stature woman dressed in a black uniform. She extended a long gun from her shoulder and pointed it just above the face of Karen.

“My god,” Karen said before breaking into a full scream. She threw Elias behind her and backed up slowly. The woman moved past Karen in a robotic manner.

“Clear the rooms,” the woman aimed and barked. “Wounded is coming in, clear the rooms now.”

“These are the children's rooms,” a mother said with her daughter at her side. “Most of these children are being treated for cancer here. You just can't...”

The mother was interrupted by the end of the gun pointing at her face.

The uniformed woman declared without a stutter,

“Presidents orders mam, I'm sorry.”

“The president is dead,” someone cursed.

“He's in hiding,” someone else rebuked.

The uniformed woman continued down the lobby throwing curtains back and ordering nurses to prepare for wounded soldiers.

“Let’s go mom,” Elias said pulling his mom’s hand toward the dim stair well.

Footsteps echoed down the stairs like heavy rain. With each floor they passed, a commotion could be heard beyond each door. They reached the bottom floor to find military green and police blue officers corralling people at the entrance. 

“Go home and kiss your family,” a voice shouted.

“Wait here,” an officer commanded. “The fighting is getting close. You need to stay undercover of the building.”

Karen felt trapped in an uncertain situation. As military tried to control everyone, people continued to inching their way to the defective sliding doors of the entrance. Elias noticed one of the black uniform officers was separating men from women and children.

Even with military guns pointed in all directions, no one was listening. Fear was driving emotion and people were demanding to leave. Karen approached a police officer at the door who put a pistol in her face with a small tremor in his hand.

Karen's voice cracked. “Are you going to shoot people who are in the hospital to be cared for? Does that make sense?”

“I have every right to leave this building,” a man’s voice barreled. “There is no law that says you can keeps us here.”

“You have the right to leave when we can regain order and keep the public safe,” an officer reported.

A hefty man behind Karen attempted to push through the crowd. An officer retracted a metal baton and cracked the man on the leg and who crumpled to the floor yelling in pain. Still, no one backed away.As more people filed down the stairs, the agitation of the crowd swelled. 

VIRGIN TERRITORY

Feedback! Its so hard to accept feedback. I love my story the way it is. You don't understand the plot? Is it my fault you are not paying attention? Maybe your reading to fast or something.
I'm coming to the final stages of a first draft edit for my first 50,000 word middle grade novel. Its time to put something out there to the public and get the ever so hopeful constructive criticism.

It really is hard for me to just let you read my stuff. I know how this goes because I read other people stuff and I'm like, "that is really bad; I hope I write better than that."

Will you read two pages for me? Next week, next blog, it's coming out. I feel vulnerable. Rip it, love it, cry about it...I don't care but I have to muster the courage to let you do what you will and train myself to bend over and take it. Be gentle. This really is my first time.

Come Tech This Out

I work with a bunch of teens each week and they educate me on the latest and greatest advances of virtual communication. I'm asking anyone and everyone what their latest app is to promote their production. I love to hear what is working for others and what has faltered in expectation. Unfortunately, Facebook has not gotten the teen choice award. Instagram and Snapchat have been the app of choice for the kiddos. Facebook however, is a biggie among us adults and for a particular age range for a purchaser. I'm trying to lay out an ongoing presence. Here is a proposed method to my madness. Please share your creative thoughts or apps that you use to promote your writing. 

BLOGGER - Sharing and learning whats on the brain this week.
INSTAGRAM - Posting pics of anyone who is reading my book 
SNAPCHAT - Snapping the progress of young aspiring writers 
EMAIL - Promoting contests and charity related to the book
FACEBOOK - Sharing in Writing Groups and doing Check-ins from where I'm writing  
WEB PAGE - Sell direct from my page

Who is the Target Audience?

I'm spending a lot of time blogging, engaging writing groups, and soliciting emails from adults. I'm following the tools given to me by the wisdom of those who have already jumped on the moving train. But my brain keeps asking me, 'who is your target audience?' Occasionally, a Middle Grade reader is testing the writing waters or interested in what I'm writing. However, my marketing audience has been writers over readers. Guess who is reading this blog now? You are a writer, right?

If I'm writing a Middle Grade novel with content geared in that direction, it would make since that I market to Middle Graders. But they are a harder audience to pull from. My libraries are full of kids reading and my daughters schools are full of hopeful readers. Where is the market for them? I know some of you are getting to do live readings but that is not a buyers market. Put aside the argument, "write for yourself, not for the sale...blah, blah, blah."
We are all ecstatic to discover when someone reads our work.   
Even I have said, "I just want to be considered an author." In my head the rest of the sentence goes..."so people will read my stuff."

I know there are reader avenues to take as I mentioned before. But I'm looking for traffic that gives back at a higher percentage. So is my audience you...oh great blog wanderer? Or is it the kid who will snuggle in her nook and read his newest book? That's my conundrum for the moment. I do love a challenge. 

On The Write Track

I do not believe everything happens for a reason. However, one of the dumbest things I did as a kid was to stand as close to a passing train or even crawl under a four foot trench as the train passed over head. At the time we, had red cabooses which designated the end of a train. Our eventual goal was hitch a ride on the caboose while it passed by. Luckily for me, we never got the courage to attempt this dangerous act of childhood bravery.

Thirty years later, these images are fresh in my mind for this critical scene I am writing. My heart still skips as I read it out loud while editing. Train tracks still facinate me today.  Then, I read an article about the Train of Death in Mexico. I can't afford to check this mother of a story for myself so I have created my own story. 

If you don't believe in a God, there are still moments when you feel "the force" or a sense of peace. This could be at the beach, hearing a song, or meditation. If you do believe in God, there are environments which bring you closer to him. This could be through Church, reading the Bible, or exploring creation. 

When writing, I usually start by taking a walk. I'm mentally documenting the environment. Is it cold and how does it feel? Is it cloudy and how can I describe it. Who is that stranger and what is his life story? When I arrive at my destination and I'm ready to right, I have this frame of mind that connects me to the story. Lately I'm back on the rails of the train tracks. I want to feel the steel and hear the trumpet. That gets me excited to finish this story I want to share. 

Fire In The Woods

May 29 there was my dog, my daughter, and a car fire.  I had just spent about two months trying to escape a horrific job opportunity that fell apart after my first staff meeting when a co-worker said he would hit me with his hockey stick. I did say he was acting like a three year old and that enraged him a bit.  Point being, my family got out of there on my daughters birthday. Three hours into the move to Georgia, smoke engulfed the SUV I was hauling.  I pulled over and attempted to separate the u-haul from the SUV which had a fire in the engine.  Two strangers pulled over and offered to assist.  My eight year old was overseeing our dog nestled comfortably between our seats. Two strangers and I watched the SUV become engulfed in flames while tires exploded into traffic.  I became that guy who held up traffic for miles while firemen attempted to douse the charred remains of boxes and personal items. Long story short (tooo late)

I had just spent two years in the Middle East. While I was there I wrote this self described master piece of middle grade fiction about a boy scared of the woods entitled Woodland.  It was completed until the Big ending. I had stored a copy on my computer and a copy on a jump drive which was in the SUV. I realized this when I got home to Georgia. Internally, there was weeping and nashing of teeth. Then i remember I had a version on the computer which made it home however, in the move the computer took some damage and all I could see was the blue screen of death. I thought my story about the beloved woodlands had been lost to the fire.

I started over. The ordeal inspired me...or required me to start fresh with a new story, a new boy, and an adventure to Mexico. That's where I am today. I haven't give up on the inspiration given to me by my Writing and English teachers. They each said I had a gift and I should use it. Yes, my parents thought that as well but shouldn't they?? After all, I was the beloved first and favorite child...and only. 

There are plenty of unanswered question presented in this blog. I may or may not get to them. What I do want to do is document the struggled and euphoric sensation of completing this second 50,000 word middle grade fiction that keeps me young. I'm bogged down, busy, booked, and trying my best to finished what I started. This second word baby of mine has been a thrill and a small, screw you, to the car fire which I thought had destroyed my dream of publishing a book. I've been published and paid, but never for a book. I really don't expect anything from this except an accomplished goal and the title of author. So here we go.