Words In the Air, Words on the Page

Hello everyone! This last weekend was great in the Tick world.

gettin nerdy up in here!

gettin nerdy up in here!

First, Sam at The Reading Nook NZ was awesome to offer me a chance to write a guest post on her blog! We talk about writing, my inspiration for Tick, and some tidbits about the next installment of the Tick series, Vice. Thanks to the Reading Nook readers for submitting questions! You can find my post right here.

Then … Bryan and I got nerdy together (in a totally platonic way), in the nerd lounge over at Good Nerd Bad Nerd. We talked about my book Tick and all the science-y and artistic bits, and we chatted about some nerd news as well. It was a lot of fun, so hop on over and have a listen!

Local Author Signing Day

Local-Author-Day-webThis is our official poster for the Charlie’s Coffee House Local Author Signing Day!

*whew*

If you are in the Pasadena area, come on by on April 22 at 4pm for a chance to chat with me and my fellow authors, Koji and Dennis (who is also my father). We’ll be happy to sign our books for you. Also, it’s at a coffee house, so yay coffee!

Give It Away, Give It Away, Give It Away Now

a fan's interpretation of the characters ... Felix is hot

a fan’s interpretation of the characters … Felix is hot!

The Reading Nook NZ is hosting an international Giveaway on their blog. Entry requirements are to sign up and leave a blog comment including a question for me. On March 30th I will be writing a guest post on the blog, and answering all the questions!

The giveaway is active through March 30th, after which three winners will be picked. One prize of a signed paperback, and two ebooks. Enter now and leave a question about me or my book, Tick. Read their review of the book itself.

While you’re at it, you can enter my Goodreads Giveaway, which ends on March 31st.

Reaching the Light at the End of the Tunnel

My book is finally here. Like, dTick - Allison Roseone. After so much time, and effort, and blood, and sweat, and tears, and long days and sleepless nights … it’s finally here. A journey to say the least. I’ll post my post-event thoughts when I’ve had the chance to actually think about my thoughts.

Until then, for those who have been waiting for it, here it is.

Not Quite An Update, More Like a Chronicle of Recent History

Ready, set, publish!

Ready, set, publish!

It has been, like, centuries since I’ve written a blog post. I’d thought about it. Many times. I even went so far as to come up with a witty title for a new post. And yet, I didn’t get far enough to reach the website.

It’s an odd sensation to be at a loss for words. As a teenager, putting all my thoughts into words was about all I concerned my day with. That incessant need to express myself with blog posts (back in their heyday, before everyone had a blog), or in my Notebook of Doomed Things. For a time, all I wanted to do was express my innermost thoughts and tribulations, regardless if anyone else would ever read them.

And then I became an adult. And I still wanted to express myself. So I became a writer.

Fast-forward to last year, and I can say without a pause in my breath that 2014 was one for the books (ba-dum ching). I spent most of my “free” time on my book, whether it be writing, or editing, or designing the cover, or thinking about writing or editing or design. All of my brain space has been consumed by my manuscript, for better or for worse (although, I’ve sadly neglected a few friends; thankfully Husband is in charge of the cats, because … um …). Needless to say, despite how my original intent was to document my Adventures in Book Making, I have failed that resolutionmiserably. Also, my resolution to get back to the gym — but, one thing at a time.

Biggest update? Well, I can say THE THING IS DONE! Now, what’s next?

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Stuck in the Middle Again

Spontaneous combustion is a real thing, folks. I saw it in a movie once.

Spontaneous combustion is a real thing. I saw it in a movie once.

There’s this weird thing going on with my manuscript. She’s defying my authority. (Is it weird to refer to my manuscript as a female? It’s totally not weird, just go with it). My MS has gone through this sneaky-like-a-rebellious-teenager defiance stage ever since I decided to expand the story into a trilogy. And by defy, I mean, create diversions and a false sense of cohesion and story truth and basically run off with the mistress and all of our money and assets. 

I take no responsibility for the actions of my manuscript. Okay, maybe I must take some responsibility because it was under my supervision during the time of the crime, and had I been paying attention maybe it wouldn’t have thought that sucking all of reality into the stargate portal, packing it onto the TARDIS and sending it through a wormhole to the end of the universe was the BEST IDEA EVER. (Hey, that’s actually a pretty cool story idea). Nevertheless, my MS decided one day it was going to up and leave the building like a queen at a drag show, finger-snap and all, and make itself comfortable in some alternate universe where everything is backwards, inside out and upside down. And I’ve been trying to wrestle it back ever since. Continue reading

Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner

Yes, that's a screenplay. Still applies.

Plot holes! Plot holes everywhere!

I asked myself recently, “Is it always a bad thing to paint yourself into a corner?” Or, drive yourself into a hole? Or, flow up creek without a paddle? I’ve never done the latter in a literal sense (or the others, for that matter), but I imagine it’s a little like getting lost in a new town. There’s an advantage to getting lost, I think, because the next time you drive around that part of the city and you pass the dog park next to the reservoir that you discovered while you were lost, suddenly you know exactly where you are. Maybe you still don’t exactly know how you got there, but that’s not the point.

How does this pertain to writing? Well, I get lost a lot. Like, a lot. Usually at my own fault, too, because while I previously posted about how I prefer to be a free-ballin’ panster-plotter, it comes at a price: the price of shooting the plot of my stories full of a lot of gaping holes. Yet, even while that has been my M.O. for some time, I’ve grown fond of those plot holes. Why? Because those holes can be later filled with anything I damn well please. And wouldn’t you know, more often than not, what fills those holes ends up being the sticky asphalt that holds the whole thing together . . . as long as I leave out the glitter. 

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Life Imitating Art Imitating Life

Life-imitates-are-far-more-than-art-imitates-life

I’ve had many different jobs in my life. I’ve been a barista, a teacher’s assistant, a corporate intern. I’ve worked at music recording studios, worked reception desks, worked hours filling out excel spreadsheets and scheduling forms. All of these jobs came with their own perks and advantages, and all had their own sets of challenges. And each time I moved from one job to another, I found myself molding my external persona to fit within the new environment.

Anyone who’s worked retail or food service will agree to the horrors of long and exhausting hours on your feet (which only get worse during the holiday season), all the while you’re expected to keep a smile plastered on your face. The customer is always right, right? Quite frankly, the general public is a needy asshole. Yet, you’re not allowed to have your own personality working in retail. You’re meant to be a robot in a green apron. Smile and say yes. A lot.

The biggest dichotomy in my working life was the time I moved from working in a music recording studio to working at a post production house where I coordinated schedules and made spreadsheets. I went from working long (loooooong) hours, on-call graveyard shifts, expected overtime, shitty pay and no benefits, in an environment filled with rappers, mistresses, booze and drugs, to a company where there was a fair amount of un-healthy food shaming (fat-shaming for LA health nuts) and where the two people who smoked cigarettes were looked down upon as being walking cancer advocates.

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You Don’t Know What You Don’t Know

Image

I didn’t know I didn’t know that much.

One of the most valuable things I learned in school was that I didn’t know shit about anything. While I was an introspective and philosophical adolescent (read: I was convinced I was positively smarter than anyone I knew) who understood humans and the universe they live in, I learned that there was such a vast amount of things in the world I didn’t know were available for a teenager such as myself to know anything about. There was so much I didn’t know I didn’t know, so much I never even considered necessary or interesting or relevant. That’s one of the joys — er, betrayals — of adulthood, learning that there is still so much about life that you I don’t even know exists. Sure, I know I still don’t understand rocket science, or parenthood, or walking a tightrope, and a lot of those things I have little interest in learning. But coming to terms with the vast quantity of things I didn’t even know were possibilities is both a riveting and risky experience. I’d imagine it’s a little like agreeing to be the world’s expert on the next newly discovered animal species . . . you have no idea what you’ll end up with and whether you’ll spend the rest of your career being laughed at by your peers.

As a novelist, the same rules apply while writing. Not before I create a story, not while plotting or even researching, but rather while I’m writing.

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The First Draft of Anything is Shit…

All Hail the Wendigo (aka Chuck Wendig)

All Hail the Wendigo (aka Chuck Wendig)

1st Draft: Weee! Writing is so awesome and fun and look at all the cool ideas I have! This is great! I’m gonna be rich and famous and everybody is gonna read my book and LOVE it because it’s just awesome!!

2nd Draft: This story is even better now that I’ve cleaned up the rough spots. And oh look how complete it is with its fancy chapter fonts and clean margins and pretty formatting. Yes, pretty pretty manuscript. *pets computer monitor*

3rd Draft: Well that one part in the beginning there is kinda odd. It feels a little off to maybe but maybe no one will notice if I just nudge and smudge a little here and there. I mean, the rest is really great, who cares about this one part, right? Well, and maybe that other part in the middle…and the one at the end…

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