Getting my Christmas Cheer On

I have really enjoyed my time off work over Christmas. I’ve been busy promoting my new ebook, AMBER FROST, writing the sequel to it, and even finding some time to blog, read and take a few photo’s. We’ve visited friends, visited Santa, taken a family trip on the local “Christmas Train”, and even been to Church (for the first time in… umm… 7 years?).

I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and got to spend lots of time with you families and friends. That is exactly what I did this year and I couldn’t have imagined a more special time – or more hilarious. Because that’s what happens when the crazy-people-who-I-call-family all gather together.

Oh, where to start?

This was my son’s second Christmas but it will probably be the first that he’ll really remember (we think but who really knows!). It was amazing how quickly he grasped the concept of opening presents – this is the same child who frequently walks around with a bucket on his head and eats sand while saying “yum-yum” - my special Little Man. He caught on to the idea of opening presents very fast, but he definitely did not “get” the idea of giving presents. When we tried to encourage him to hand out the presents that were from him (he loves to hand out pictures of himself, modest little man) he freaked. There was a lot of “noooooo!” and “miiiiiiine!” and trying to open other peoples’ presents and run away with them. He’s not even 2 yet so he deserves a little bit of a break. But still – it was a little embarrassing. He did remember to use his “peas” and “dank-doos” appropriately though, so there was that at least!

My son’s Grandparents all went a little overboard this year in the "giving" department. The Little Man is the only grandchild on the hubbie’s side of the family and the only one in the country on my side. Our little monster actually got so tired of opening gifts at my in-laws that he started to say “no-no” when offered a present and would run and hide. He just wanted to play with his new, toy car on the kitchen floor and chase the in-laws’ dog. At my folks’ place his favorite toys were a fly swatter he found out on the deck and a penguin magnet he stole off their fridge. Isn’t that always the way?

As for myself, I was quite spoiled too. I especially enjoyed the Amazon gift card from my folks so I could load-up my Kindle (check Goodreads to see what I’m reading now) and also the Paderno cookware set from my in-laws. I never thought I would hear myself squeal in delight over a set of shiny, new pots and pans. My eighteen year-old self was definitely rolling her eyes.

The best gift this Christmas though was the arrangement made between the hubbie and I, and his sister and brother (and their respective partners). Instead of each couple buying gifts for the others, we each took the money we would have spent and donated it to our local food banks. It was a great idea; kudos to my sister-in-law and her fiancé (still haven’t forgotten about the Giant Evil Bunny incident) for coming up with it. To be perfectly honest – it was fast, convenient, there was no wasteful spending and it felt SO good! The lady at the food bank was almost in tears when we dropped off our cheque. She thanked us profusely when really, all we were doing was dropping off a cheque – she was the one who was volunteering her time and effort! It still felt good.

The absolute best part of Christmas though was all the time spent with my loved ones; waking up Christmas morning, warm and happy in my husband’s arms, watching the joy on the Little Man’s face as he pulled a little train out of his stocking and starting yelling “CHOO-CHOO! Mumma! Dadda! CHOO-CHOO!” And all the good food and hugs and laughter – oh, it’s so corny but it’s true. It really is the most wonderful time of the year!

No matter where you were, what you were doing and how you did (or didn’t) celebrate the Holidays, I hope you had a perfect time.

Suzi

The Craziest Thing

I can pinpoint the moment I decided I wanted to write a book. It was almost two years ago now, I was sitting on the couch in my living room and had just finished reading a really crappy novel that, for reasons I couldn’t (and still can’t) comprehend, had sold hundreds of thousands of copies.

“What a piece of crap!” I announced to my husband as I finished the last page. He patiently tore his eyes away from the Canucks game on TV with only a slight sigh (this, my friends, is true love) and he settled in to listen to the obvious rant I was about to embark on.

I have always been a passionate and over-enthusiastic reader, and I feel personally offended when books don’t live up to my expectations. Hubbie was aware of this – he knew what was coming but still listened attentively.

“Seriously, how did this get published? Who reads this stuff?” I demanded.

Hubbie raised an eyebrow but was wise enough not to comment. After seven years together, he’d learned that if he wanted to get back to the hockey game before the next power play, it would be best to keep quiet, nod in agreement and only let his eyes stray back to the TV when I wasn’t looking.

“I mean, even I could do better. I could write a book way better than this!” I declared, tossing said-book onto the glass coffee table and missing. I glared at the book as it was obviously such a piece of junk that it wouldn’t even make a good projectile (this, of course, had nothing to do with my lack or coordination or athletic ability).

And what does my other and at times (ok, a lot of the time) better-half say?

“Then do it.”

His eyes went back to the TV but I didn’t object because I knew he was right – I should do it. Hubbie had no idea what he’d started.

Why not? I thought. I loved reading, I loved writing. I used to begin writing novels all the time when I was a teenager but back then I didn’t have the focus or the drive to get past the first fifty pages (I was too busy smoking cigarettes and falling in love). I’d written many a lengthy, University paper since then; my vocabulary, life experience and confidence had all improved since those confused teenaged days… so why not?

And so I began to write.

A year and a bit later I have completed two, full length novels (currently I’m nearing completion of my third and have a killer idea for my fourth). The first book never really took off – it was my first attempt at writing a novel and it was written largely for my own enjoyment; I never really expected that one to get published. But the second… this one I’d invested a lot more time and emotion into. This one I had hopes for but after the first few rejection letters came in (positive but still “no’s” – remember the “shit sandwich”? LINK) my optimism began to fade.

I still loved writing but I was starting to realize there was something missing from the experience for me. What was it? What do you call that thing….? Oh right – an audience. No one was reading my work except for me and though I was thoroughly enjoying writing and was frequently impressed by my own brilliance (I know, I’m ridiculously egotistical in the privacy of my own home) – it wasn’t enough. And that’s when this blog was born.

Anyone remember my first post, Exposing Myself (LINK)?. I was so nervous to share my writing with anyone, even the limited audience I imagined that might view my blog. I did it though and I’m so glad I did. Now I barely think twice before hitting the “PUBLISH” button, even knowing that somewhere around 100 people (and counting!) are now viewing my blog every week. To you blog veterans, these numbers might not seem so impressive but to me it’s HUGE. It still blows my mind that people are interested in and entertained by what I have to say. The people I’ve met through my blog, the contacts and connections I’ve made and the recognition I’m starting to gain are priceless.

And now the craziest thing has happened – I’m getting published!

The second novel I wrote (which is currently titled “Amber Frost” but fondly referred to as “Book #2” in my house) will be made available to the ebook world through ireadiwrite Publishing (LINK) some time later this year. I hope you’ll understand what a huge understatement it is to say that I’m a little bit excited and kinda proud. Just a little bit.

I’ll be keeping you all updated as things move along but for now I’d just to say a quick thanks to all the wonderful people who read my blog each week, to my amazing family and friends who inspire me, and to my incredible husband who may at times be a “man of few words” but when he does speak, you’d be stupid not to listen. Thanks for letting me interrupt your hockey games honey, and sorry for all the nights I’ve made you watch “Glee” and “Gossip Girl” (no apologies for “Dating in the Dark” – you know you love that crap as much as I do).

Thanks everyone! Your support means the world to me.

And on that note… GO CANUCKS!


Suzi

Readers vs. Writers

I started reading Suzanne Collins’, Hunger Games trilogy last week and, as predicted by Lainey (link) became obsessed. I tore through the first two books in three days and then read the third, Mockingjay, within 24 hrs of it being released. Yes, it’s safe to assume I’m a bit of a bookworm, but this was bad even for me. These books were like crack to me – I couldn’t get enough. They had all the right elements; fast-paced plot, descriptive but not overly so, an intense love triangle that was trying to resolve itself under the shadow of the darker themes of distrust, corruption and instability. The plot kept me guessing to; I had no idea how it would all resolve and couldn’t wait to get my hands on the third and final installment, Mockingjay. My hopes were set so high…. and they all came crashing down. Mockingjay was good, but the ending SUCKED!

I had some bad dreams that first night after I finished reading Mockingjay (that’s how crazy, my book-crazy is). Mockingjay left me so unsatisfied, with so many questions left unanswered, that even my subconscious couldn’t let it go. No one else I knew had even finished reading it, so I had no one to discuss it with (by the way – who wants to start a bookclub because I am SO in?). And so my brain became stuck on the Mockingjay disappointment. I mulled my issues with Collins over and over in my mind until I came up with a justification for the ending that I could, at least partially and as a writer myself, accept. It took me a few days to come to terms with Mockingjay but eventually I did. And it was all because of this one realization: even though the ending was not what I wanted it to be, it was the only possible ending for the writer.

As readers, we often have completely different expectations than writers do, and for writers, it is not always possible to reconcile the differences between the two. As a reader and fan of the Hunger Games trilogy, I wanted a happy ending. I loved the characters, I’d seen them fight and struggle and conquer all odds and I wanted my happy freakin’ ending. I wanted all the loose ends neatly tied up. I wanted all my questions answered, all mysteries to be revealed. I wanted a happily-ever-after but I didn’t get one, at least not the one I wanted. At first that was a huge disappointment but as I moved on and let it go, I realized that perhaps I was left with something more important than what I had originally thought I wanted. Perhaps Mockingjay had accomplished something more than just entertaining and pleasing its readers.

Mockingjay really haunted me – days later it’s still prominent in my thoughts (enough so that I had to blog). I’m still thinking about the characters and replaying in my head how it “all went down” in the end. And I’m coming to realize that to tie it all up into a neat and perfect little package would have been unfaithful to the work, because a writer has to be true to their vision, to their inspirations and their themes. This was not a happy story, it was obviously never meant to be, so why was I wanting (so badly) for it to be something other than what it was?

Collins stayed true to her characters, dedicated to her themes and was disturbingly honest with the reality of her story. I’m willing to accept now that there aren’t always happy endings – and that’s ok. Sometimes, you have to find the happiness you can and accept it for what it is. Mockingjay also guides readers to appreciate the power of the unspoken word - the things that can be left unsaid yet despite and because of this, they are still so clearly heard.

The truth is, we don’t always get our happy endings. Things don’t always play out as you expect but you heal, you move on and you find what happiness you can and you take it. I will argue though that there is A LOT of opportunity for character exploration, growth and development in-between-the-lines but Collins chose to leave these moments untouched and in that way, I am still disappointed with Mockinjay’s ending. On the other hand, it makes me hope that one day she may eventually “go there” and tell us the rest of Katniss Everdeen’s story because I am not the only book-crazy, obsessive reader who would be all over that. This may be another case though, where the readers’ hopes and desires differ greatly from those which influence the writer.

Suzi

PS - if you haven't read the Hunger Games, you should.  They are starting production on the movie soon and you definitely want to read the book first.