I’m currently in between big writing projects, and I’m having trouble getting out of that space. Some of that is because there are things currently out of my control in regards to what happens next in my writing career, so it’s hard to look too far in the future. Which makes it hard to commit to anything big right now–mainly on deciding what novel I want to write next.
I did have a sort of break planned where I was going to read and catch up on some non-writerly stuff…and wait and see where my muse takes me next. I’ve definitely done this, and worked on some smaller projects in the meantime. All those small projects have turned out to be on the quirky side, so I’m not really sure what to do with them.
It’s not that I don’t have novel ideas (I literally have notebooks of ideas stashed away); it’s more that I can’t quite seem to figure out what one is calling to me the loudest. There’s also the consideration about what makes sense to work on next as far as my career goes, and that brings me back to having to wait to see where those things out of my control shake out.
The waiting is part of the business of writing. I’m growing impatient with the waiting, though. My fingers are itching to get to work. My dreams (like the sleeping kind, not goals and aspirations) have gotten even weirder than those small projects I’ve been working on, which is a sure sign that my brain is getting antsy to work on a big project.
I thought maybe writing this post out would help me have some insight into what to do next. But here I’ve reached the end and I still don’t know what to do.
I think we could all use a good laugh to end this year, so I’m breaking out my parody of Clement C. Moore’s “A Visit from St. Nicholas.” It has become something of a tradition to post this each year. I’ll be posting about my newest book, the picture book THE BEDTIME KNIGHT (you can find more about it on my picture book page), and a reading round-up when I return to blogging in 2021.In the meantime, Happy Holiday and wishing you all the best in the New Year!
‘Twas the night before Christmas, the kids were in bed Anxiously awaiting the Big Man in Red; The stockings weren’t hung (we don’t have a chimney), We just set them down in front of the TV.
Who am I kidding? The kids weren’t sleeping, The baby was teething, drooling, and weeping; The preschooler was playing with a million toys, Driving his cars and making lots of noise.
Half an hour later, the baby passed out, His brother went to bed (not without a good pout); I let out a great big sigh of relief, Then I looked around and thought, “Oh, good grief!”
The house was a mess, the laundry never-ending, And there was still that ornament that needed mending. At least we were done hiding that stupid elf, Went back where he came from, him and his shelf;
Hours passed, we thought we were finally done; We found more gifts, the fun had just begun; We were out of wrapping paper and tape, Reused gift bags put us back in good shape;
I sat down to relax, put my feet up, Snuggled into a blanket with my tea cup; A bang outside roused me to my feet, I peeked out the curtains, looked down the street.
“I don’t think it’s the neighbors,” Daddy said; “What? You think it’s Santa in his big sled?” He went to check it out, shot me a look, And told me to go back to reading my book;
A minute later, I heard a great yell, And said under my breath, “What the hell?” I put on my shoes, grabbed the monitor, Slipped into a coat, and stomped out the door;
The clear winter night brought no Christmas snow, Instead moonlight washed the yard in a soft glow; Daddy stood there staring up at the roof; I hissed, “What are you doing, you big doof?”
He merely pointed, his face full of fear, And gave a soft whisper, “It’s a reindeer.” Now, I haven’t believed since I was six, Thought surely his eyes must be playing tricks;
Then I heard a stomping and a nicker That made my heart beat a little quicker; Looking up, I saw the brown muzzle, red nose The Fat Man himself, and I simply froze.
Daddy and I exchanged a look of wonder, The shock could’ve put us six feet under; I shook my head and came to my senses, Glared at Santa, went on the offensive;
“Get off my roof, your reindeer too,” I hissed; I glared at Santa, feeling really pissed; He laughed, “Don’t end up on my naughty list.” Clearly this guy wasn’t getting my gist.
“With all due respect, get the hell out of here; If you wake my kids, you won’t see next year.” Quiet as a shadow those reindeer took flight, Santa whispered, “Merry Christmas and good night.”
With ELIXIR SAVED releasing tomorrow and three family birthdays this week, it’s all about books and birthdays on the blog (say that three times fast!). Stop by tomorrow for the official ELIXIR SAVED launch video…where I may have taken the idea of a book birthday a little too far.
On Wednesday, I’ll be on author Kai Strand’s blog talking about my biggest challenge in writing book 2 (I cheated a little on this one and wrote about two things that challenged me). Then here on Friday, I have an author interview with Estelle Laure, whose book MAYHEM shares a book birthday with ELIXIR SAVED.
First kiddo, a.k.a. The Boy
There will more fun on the blog the rest of July. Next week, you can take a quiz (don’t worry, it’s only 7 questions and there are no wrong answers) to find out what element fuels your magic. And then some posts about the process of writing ELIXIR SAVED. If you have any questions about the writing process or any of my books, drop them in the comments and I’ll answer them here on the blog.
Second kiddo, a.k.a. The Prince
Today, though, is all about birth stories. I’ve shared here on the blog the exciting birth stories of my first two kiddos, one of whom was born during a hurricane (check out “A Beautiful Life Is Born”) and the other who was almost born in the car (check out “The Precipitous Birth of Baby Boy #2”). When I went looking for a post about the third kiddo’s birth story, I realized I never wrote it up (such is the way of parenthood after the first couple of kids), all I found was a post called “Summer 2017 in Pictures – All About Adjusting” with me saying his birth story will get up on the blog eventually.
Third kiddo, a.k.a. The Gentleman
The Gentleman (kiddo #3) came in an equally exciting way as the other two. The only reason we made it in time to the hospital was because we knew from the very quick birth of kiddo #2 to head there at the very first sign of labor. We still never made it to labor and delivery, and he was born in one of the tiny triage rooms before my doctor made it to the hospital. This was despite the several warnings my husband and I gave them about how our previous baby was born in one of those same triage rooms and maybe they should go ahead and send me to labor and delivery. It all worked out in the end, and that’s the important thing.
Baby Katie
Turns out my own birth story was rather exciting as well. My dad worked for the local newspaper at the time and wrote about it in his column. My parents didn’t have health insurance, so when my mom went into labor at about 9:00 p.m., she decided to try and labor at home until midnight to avoid the extra night’s charge. The hospital was down the road from our house, so they almost decided to walk but got a ride from my aunt at the last minute. My mom was admitted at 12:01 a.m. (with my dad double-checking the time on the paperwork) and I was born at 1:03 a.m. I guess quick births run in the family!
Anyone else have an exciting birth story? See you all tomorrow where I embarrass myself on video and share ELIXIR SAVED’s birth story!
Versions of this post about how I became a writer have been on several other people’s blogs, but I don’t think I’ve ever posted it here on my own blog. I was thinking about it as the release day for ELIXIR SAVED rapidly approaches and figured it was a good time to put it up here.
Katie reading to Kylene
I thought my life as a writer began when I was 19 on particularly hot day in early spring 2002, a black-letter day, the blackest of black-letter days in fact. I was in college on track to becoming a physical therapist with an early acceptance into the graduate program. But I didn’t become a physical therapist; I became a writer.
I’ve since come to realize, with the help of my mom, that it was much earlier than that that I began my writing life. On my blog post on the release day of the ebook version of ELIXIR BOUND, she wrote, “Although you would have done fine as a physical therapist, I always knew it was not your calling. You were a writer ever since you could pick up a pencil and I think I always knew that, after all the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree (of course I’m talking about your dad).”
Well, my mom was mostly right. Even before I could pick up a pencil, my mom would read stories to us: the Little Golden Books, the Little House books by Laura Ingalls Wilder, all kinds of fiction. I think that’s when I became a writer.
When I stop to think about it, I don’t know why it took me so long to figure out I was a writer. The signs were all there. My family and I used to write and illustrate our own picture books about the adventures of Sam the Billy Goat. At the climax of the story it would always read, “Voop Whoosh! Up went the Billy Goat.” And he would fly up to save the day.
I wrote (and sometimes illustrated) stories my whole childhood. In middle school, high school, and college I worked on the school newspapers. Yeah, I think I had been in a state of denial for 19 years…which brings us back to that black-letter day…April 16, 2002. The day my sister Kylene died.
Kylene and Katie
I don’t like to talk about that day. How the forget-me-nots were in bloom. How there were recording-breaking high temps. How it was the worst day of my life.
So what do you do when you’re 19 and your sister’s just died? Well, once you’re in a place where you can think again, you reevaluate. Everything.
For me that meant rethinking what I wanted to do with my professional life. Kylene gave me the permission to pursue my passion. So I began writing. Eventually I decided not to continue studying physical therapy. I kept writing, often not even sure who I was writing for. Kylene, an audience, myself?
I pursued publication. And got rejections, along with some encouragement. I revised, learned a lot more about the business of publishing. Wrote some more. Revised some more. Got a lot more rejections…you get the picture.
Ten years and four months after Kylene died, my book was finally born into the world. And what was that book about? A young woman, entrusted with the future of her family’s secret healing Elixir, going on a quest to find the Elixir’s secret ingredient.
I don’t need a psychoanalyst to tell me I was fulfilling a wish with that book. It was supposed to be about Kylene, and it is in some ways, but it’s really about me. Because for those 10 years, it had been too hard to write Ky’s book. I tried. ELIXIR BOUND started out from her point of view, but I just couldn’t write that book yet.
But I did eventually. ELIXIR SAVED is Kylene’s book…and a few other characters’, too, because writing just her story was too much (or not enough). It’s complicated.
As for Kylene’s real life story, I believe each of us as individuals doesn’t truly realize the impact we have on people. Each person we touch—whether it be with a story, a hug, a smile as we pass a stranger on the street—leaves a ripple.
Kylene, in her short life, left lots of ripples. With the people she loved. With the people she cared about. The people she felt compassion for, which was pretty much everyone. The people she shared the Harry Potter books with. Even the nurses in the hospital from the short time she was sick felt her ripples.
I like to think that each ripple I make with the Elixir Series is really Ky’s ripple…because I’m not sure I would have discovered my life’s passion if it weren’t for Kylene. It makes my heart smile to think that Kylene is still making ripples on the world, and that I have my own little role to play in that.
About ELIXIR SAVED: Three lives saved by the Elixir; three lives bound by it.
The Elixir entwines the lives of those it touches. Once upon a time, Kylene, Zelenka, and Devon tasted it and escaped death. None were left without scars. Now, a shocking message from the Ice Queen–one of Mother Nature’s higher beings–sends each survivor on a quest. Kylene travels to the frozen depths of Blanchardwood, Zelenka heads back to the wilds of Faway Forest, and Devon journeys to a reclusive mountain temple. The three paths converge in a war against an ancient and tricky foe. And even the Elixir cannot save everyone. The fate of the world balances on the edge of a sword, and the outcome depends on whether the survivors will sacrifice their second chances.
Escape back into the world of the Great Peninsula in this much-anticipated sequel to the award-winning ELIXIR BOUND. Perfect for fans of the Thrones of Glass series by Sarah J. Maas.
I wrote something new recently and very different from anything I’ve written before. It came to me in a rush of excitement and creativity in a way I’ve never experienced before.
I’ve had ideas come crashing in, images or characters or some spark that leads to a story. But this was different. In the past, the ideas have been pieces of something bigger that needed a lot more thought to turn into a full idea.
This time, it was like I was possessed by the muse. It was literally keeping me awake at night. The idea, and moreover the emotion of the story, was a wave that kept churning inside me and wouldn’t let me focus on anything else until I let it out. And it came to me in such a fully formed way.
Not to say that it was easy to write. It required a good amount of research, but the research was just as exciting as the writing. Writing it felt like putting two parts of myself together that I hadn’t found a way to fit in the same context, even though the story is nothing about me in any way. It melded two of my passions that I’ve been trying to figure out how to intersect but had never been able to do so before.
I know this all sounds kind of vague, and I’m purposely avoiding specifics here on the blog for certain reasons that I’m being quiet about right now.
But I wanted to share the enthusiasm I’m feeling right now. Much of the writing and submitting process can be a slog. You face plot points you don’t know how to solve, characters that aren’t fleshed out enough, a voice that doesn’t stand out enough. Then there are the rejections…don’t even get me started.
This, right now, how I’m feeling. It makes all those things worth it. So I just wanted to let you all know that. Thanks for listening!
