How a writing career should be

When I think about my writing career, I want it to be like this photo: heading forward, not jumping the track, maybe picking up goods along the way, with a great whistle to comfort me(seriously, I love train whistles). Steady and sure, I'd just chug along (bonus points if I was a steam engine and could really chug!).

But it's really more like this.

Fun maybe once a summer. Otherwise you throw up a lot.

But then I saw one of these today. And it's still January!


So then I felt hopeful.

And then I saw this dude (he's a mountain goat, I know he's hard to see), on top of a truck that belongs to the crew blowing up the mountain at the Crazy Horse Memorial.

And I laughed my ass off.

Now I'm going to try to catch my train, even though I know I'm still on the rollercoaster. Maybe I could ask the mountain goat to help me. He seems pretty determined.

12 Gifts of YA #11: Rebellion, and/or Sticking It To the Man

There is nothing better than flipping the bird at someone (metaphorical or otherwise), and teenagers are way better at it than grown-ups are. We tend to remember the consequences, so that gets in our way (for better or worse). But who doesn't love sticking it to The Man, whoever S/He is? I love writing characters who have a seriously degenerate attitude, who do things that piss people off and make people shake their fists in rage. Do these rebels have redeeming characteristics? Sure, and they end up on the "right" side of things, generally. BUT. But. They still need (and deserve) some bad attitude. Everybody does.

When I was a YA, I should have been flipping the actual bird at some people, given how they were acting. Instead I was a good, repressed girl who lived in fear of getting in trouble. Then I got old, and then I didn't care anymore. I don't think I should tell you how I enact my rebellion these days--you might think less of me. But one of my favorite (albeit boring) ways? SKIPPING MEETINGS (unless they're with book peeps). Meetings can be *such* a huge waste of time.

I look like a pretty average mom/teacher/Midwestern white woman, but I'm honestly a late '70s London punk. You just can't see the mohawk. And I think rebelliously, generally in snarky thoughts, but sometimes about stuff like universal health care, and how everyone deserves it. Or I think about ending hunger. Or what I can do to contribute to peace in the Middle East. I am not kidding. Totally rebellious thoughts.

One more gift of YA to go--tune in tomorrow!!


Image gracefully acquired from here.