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I just heard yet another story from a writer seeking my help after having paid two different “professional” editors to edit their work. After outlaying good money, twice, they are still getting negative feedback on the editing of the book. Sad. I am always distressed when I hear of such editing hijackings. I’m sure most of these editors are not out to take advantage of people, but caveat emptor.

Writers, if you can get a referral from a writer whose work you admire, do it. If not, do your research, please. Sometimes an editor with a university degree will let you down and sometimes an instinctual editor with a natural gift will blow your mind.  Credentials are not everything. Check out the editor’s website and follow through. Don’t just accept their posted quotes of praise as the final word. This is a good sign if people are willing to rave about an editor, but get a few electronic samples of the books they’ve edited and see for yourself. Read the book reviews of these books too – but be careful in this case, sometimes poor editing reviews are from before the book was edited/re-edited by the editor you are looking into. The other thing to keep in mind is that the author may have made changes after the edit or they may not have accepted all the suggested revisions, so other factors can be reflected in the book too.

Reach out to these authors via their various networking sites or their Amazon author account. One thing I have found is that us writers are more than willing to help each other out. So ask them about the editor they used. Also make note if an author has published other books since they used the editor you are researching, did they continue to use said editor? If they were truly thrilled, they likely would have. Yes, sometimes a good editor is very busy and a client may not be able to use them in the time frame they would like and may need to seek someone else. But a good editor will advise their clients to book in advance and the client is willing to do so in order to save their spot with their favorite editor.

There tends to be a level of “monogamy” with an editor we like. Look for that. Ask about that. If an editor has edited fifty books but they are all by different authors with no repeat performances, look into that. (Although sometimes they work exclusively with a publisher and will have a long list, but then the consistency will be in the publisher of each book.)

My advice: Writer beware. This is your work. This is your dream. The little bit of work you do to find an editor your can trust is so worth it.

Happy writing!

Lisa

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We are so close!!

I’m excited to share with you the news of a creative project I’m involved with—a fiction anthology called The Memory Eater: Stories that Erase the Past to Save the Future, created and edited by Matthew Hance. The science fiction-inspired anthology consists of 27 uniquely written and illustrated stories based on a futuristic device with the ability to locate and destroy any memory in the human mind. The concept—that everybody wants to forget something, don’t they?—is intriguing, as is the format. Each of 27 authors wrote an original story around the concept, and 27 artists contributed a companion original piece of art for the stories. As many of you already know, my story, Dragonfly Landing, was accepted for inclusion in the anthology. I am so excited to see it come to fruition. Although I have had many articles published, this is the first fiction piece I have ever submitted and being chosen out of so many talented authors was a very big moment for me.

The anthology was pitched to select publishers with positive feedback, but ultimately, Matt decided to take advantage of the evolving book publishing landscape and retain control over the book publication and distribution by raising the funds to self-publish. Today marks the launch of the Kickstarter.com fundraising campaign to raise funds to publish The Memory Eater, which is ready to print right now!

Kickstarter is a unique Internet funding platform for creative projects by writers, musicians, artists, designers, filmmakers and visionaries of all kinds. Artists post an in-depth profile of their creative work and ask interested people to pledge a donation over a short period to reach a funding goal. If the goal is reached, the pledges are funded, and the artist can help bring their creative project to life. 

 Please visit The Memory Eater fundraising campaign at http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/875080901/the-memory-eater-anthology and support my story. The page includes a project introduction video, story and art samples and links to several contributor web sites. The platform offers several pledge levels ranging from $1-$300 with rewards attached to each donation. Rewards run the gamut from written acknowledgement in the anthology, to free books, to bookmarks and T-shirts, to custom created, artist-signed The Memory Eater artwork on canvas.  Pledges are not collected (via PayPal or credit card) unless and until the project goal of $4,250 is reached in the 40-day campaign period.

 The Memory Eater’s Kickstarter campaign runs through May 12, 2012.  For further information about The Memory Eater anthology, visit Hance’s blog at www.anthologies2011.blogspot.com; http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Memory-Eater-Anthology; and Twitter at @TheMemoryEater.

This is an exciting moment in my writing career and your support of this project will give you a unique opportunity to be one of the first readers to own this interesting anthology, or perhaps one of a select few to have special marketing items associated with it.

Thank you for checking out the campaign and for your support of my work!

Lisa

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There was a connecting of the circle that I started drawing when I first sent away for the information on Winghill Writing School. It was a spontaneous act. A follow my bliss moment. A “what the heck do I have to lose by asking?” moment, and I thought it is probably too expensive (It wasn’t!), or the time commitment would be too much with a new baby to take care of (it was flexible—thank God!). This was my destiny and Destiny cannot be denied. It is true: Where there is a will, there is a way.

After just wrapping up a one-year maternity leave, I wasn’t back at work yet, didn’t want to leave my gorgeous little Emilio. I did not have money saved up for school, did not know how I would do this. Little did I know, I already had all that I needed. I had a husband who believed in me enough to say, “Go for it, Mami. We will find a way.” I had two older sons who said, “Do it, Mom. You’re going to do great!” And my oldest, who also said, “Here, Mom, I am working now and making good money; let me help you pay for this.” And they all said, “I love you. You can do this.” I had 289 pages of a raw novel manuscript, I had a baby that I wanted to be with, I had belief, I had a dream. That was enough.

So, without an income of my own, and without the knowledge of exactly how this was going to work, I ventured out, believing in my dream, in myself, and in those that believed in me. After all, I could feel it. This was my lifelong dream. This was supposed to be. This would be. I was born to do this. My amazing, always-supportive mother tells me I was talking in relevant, conversational sentences at one and a half (and apparently, I have never stopped talking). I was addicted to books from the first page, and by grade three, I tested with a vocabulary of someone who had been in grade 12 for three months. I was born with a passion for words and all that they can accomplish. My wonderful father is an avid reader and always taught me that if you can read, you can learn anything. He was right. He may have had to drop out of school in grade nine so he could work and help his family, but he is one of the smartest men I know.

So when my course materials arrived, I dove in, headfirst. So excited! I “met” my tutor, the talented and supportive Joan Hall Hovey. I met my future—with gratitude, happiness and humility. I admitted that I had the dream but didn’t know how to make it come true. But that was okay, because the wonderful folks at Winghill did, and they would teach me.

I started on the journey in the Creative Writing course. It covered everything. My first real assignment was to write an article for a magazine and pick one that I would submit it to. So I did. I built it, and yes, they came. I received my feedback from Joan, did some rewrites and boom! I submitted it to Calgary’s Child Magazine. And then, I waited. Oh my God, I waited. Officially the hardest part of being a writer! But it was worth it. They liked my article and but wanted to consider it for the March/April issue rather than the January/February issue.

That’s okay, I told myself. I can wait a few extra months to see my name in print. And then, I got a crazy sense of recklessness and bravado. No, I couldn’t wait, I decided. I would get published in the first issue of 2010. Yes, I could do this. So I wrote back and thanked them for showing interest in my article, and oh, by the way, I had an article that might be more appropriate for the January/February issue and did they want to see it? Yes, they did. Please forward that.

Only…I didn’t. And the deadline was in a few days. So I sat down with nothing more than a word processor, an idea, and a belief in my dreams.

One thousand words later, “Valentine’s Dinner for Two…Plus Kids” was born.

Approximately one month after that, I received the email that said they were publishing my article in the first issue of 2010. And my husband? Well, he received a wife running down the hallway, screaming, and then banging on the door (he was in the shower at the time, but I just couldn’t wait.) “I’m getting published! I’m getting published! I’m getting published! Papi! Papi! Papi! I’m getting published!”

After he recovered from having the Dominican equivalent of the “bejesus” scared out of him, when I hammered on the door unexpectedly, we celebrated my success and the validation that what I was doing was indeed right.

Afterwards, when I told my tutor what I had done when I went out on a limb and said I had another article written, she basically told me (in some more eloquent words I’m sure) that it took cojones to do what I did. Oh, and congratulations, by the way.

That was the beginning of Lisa Ink. And thus, two years and three months later, I have my diploma. It took awhile to accomplish, because ever since then, I have been very busy with writing related activity. I have been published many times; I am awaiting publication of the first fiction piece I ever submitted, Dragonfly Landing; I am an extremely busy and successful editor; oh, and that novel, it is almost finished, too. And I have started writing three more.

So, I could have just as easily let the course slip through the cracks of life, since I am already living my dream, but the symbolism in it, the actual finishing of it represents all of that and MORE to me. I did it.

I am writer, hear me roar! And groan, shout, say with emphasis, and sometimes expletives. Because that is what we do. We also stay up until the wee hours of the morning because we have a deadline. We network with like-minded people who are also up at o’boy-am-I-going-to-need-coffee-in-the-morning A.M. We work in our pajamas; we delete, delete, delete; and we always wait, and yes, it is always hard. But when we hear those words, “We want to publish you,” we run down the hallway screaming.

So the message is this: if you find what you love, that thing you were born to do, and you do it—just one step at a time—you will reach your goals, and yes, bliss will follow. Because if we love life, life loves us back.

Or as my son said the other day, “See, Mom. I knew you were a good investment.”

Invest in your dreams. You’re worth it.

I am going to go out on a limb here and speculate that a good portion of our “negative” emotions as human beings is based on one thing: fear of the unknown.

Let’s deconstruct that a little…

Starting with the big one…fear of dying. Are we really afraid of the pain of dying, or the leaving people behind or is it that we are afraid of the unknown? We don’t really know what there is out there, after this, do we? Those with a strong belief in God and heaven will often say, “I am not afraid to die.” That is because they believe that they know the unknown. They know what is waiting for them and it gives them peace.

The grief at losing a loved one, or the mere thought of it happening one day. The thought that someday we are going to have to deal with our parents getting old and passing on. It is excruciatingly painful to go through, or even think about going through. Why? Fear of the unknown. “I don’t know how I will go on without this person.” Unknown. “Why did they have to die?” Unknown. “Why them and not me?” Unknown.

A shy person will avoid many social situations that their less shy counterparts would jump at doing. Why? “What if there isn’t anyone I know there?” Unknown. “What if I don’t have fun?” Unknown. “What will it look like, how will I feel, who will be there?” Unknown.

Public speaking. Perhaps this one should have qualified as “the big one” as many people fear public speaking more than death. “What if I screw up? What if I forget my speech? What if they heckle me?” All unknown.

Taking a new course or going to school… “What if I fail?”

Asking someone on a date… “What will they say?”

Proposing marriage… “Will they say yes?”

Having a baby… “Will I be a good parent? What if I’m not?”

Starting an exercise program or a diet… “What if it doesn’t work?”

Starting a new job… “Will they like me? My work? Will people be nice? Can I handle the hours/commute/work?”

If a large majority of what we feel can be distilled down to one thing, then by conquering THAT, we should by default be able to conquer anything. By definition, we can’t know the unknown, so what is the solution? The same as the one that the person who isn’t afraid of dying makes. It is not in the knowing, at least not in the literal sense of the word. It is in the belief that we know. Beliefs are just thoughts that we think over and over until they are a part of our experience of life.

The next time you find yourself facing a crisis, reach deep down inside yourself and believe that you do know. Turn those questions into statements. “They will like me. It will work. I can do it.” Say them enough times that they become belief. Be definitive. Replace doubt with certainty, for it isn’t the knowing…it is the believing.

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Don’t judge a book by its cover…right?

Well, actually, isn’t that what cover design is about—so that people can look at the cover and know a bit about the book contained therein. If you are a fan of vamp-lit and you pick up a book with a cool yet vicious-looking vampire on the front, but when you open the tome it is a book about how to propagate petunias, well, my guess is you are going to be displeased, disappointed, disillusioned and many other words prefixed with dis—except maybe disturbed, which is what you wanted to be.

I know I dream about having a really cool cover on my novel when it is published. I have visions of it in my head and I cannot wait to see it three-dimensionally. I cannot wait to hold it in my hand, lovingly tracing the letters of my name and the fabulously evocative picture on the front.

So, maybe we can and should judge books by their covers. But, what about people? Can we, or should we, judge them by the visage they present the world? The answer to that is rather dichotomous. To a point, we can decide much about a person by their public persona. There is a good chance that the unwashed fellow in tattered jeans and hoodie who is crouched in front of the coffee shop with an empty cup in his hand, begging, is homeless. Fair enough. But can we judge why he is homeless or what he will do with the nickels and pennies we grudgingly toss his way? Should we?

 I have always answered the same to that question…No. We should not.

If his hand is shaking when he stretches it out to accept our change can we decide he is suffering from drug or alcohol withdrawal and he will only use the money for drugs? I know many of you will say yes, but consider this: maybe he has Parkinson’s Disease…maybe he suffered from brain damage from a stroke, tumour, or degenerative disease like multiple sclerosis. Yes, chronic alcoholism can also cause cerebellar tremor, but is that for us to decide? Is that the factor that determines whether we will lighten our wallets of spare change? Even if he is going to buy alcohol with it…so what? If that helps his tortured soul get through the day, who are we to judge? After all, we are in the drive-thru line-up waiting to buy a coffee, and are we not addicted to that?

What makes our addiction acceptable and his not? Because we are lucky enough to have a roof over our head and food in our bellies? There but for the grace of God, go I…

Generosity should not be only about who deserves it or what the “trendy” cause-of-the-moment is—isn’t it about who needs it?

That homeless beggar is somebody’s son. He might have been someone’s husband, father or brother. There is a really good chance he is a veteran of some man-made war, or perhaps just a veteran of the war inside himself. I don’t have the statistics, and I am sure they are hard to gather, but I believe there is a better chance than not that most homeless are, or have been, victims.

The youth have likely (not always, nothing is always, of course there are exceptions to everything) been abused—physically, mentally or sexually…perhaps all three.

The adults might be the youth that were never saved and didn’t die on the streets, or mentally ill and fell through cracks in the system, or as I mentioned, vets—or any other number of things that are not for us to decide.

My point here is to open your minds to possibilities. And I’m not saying to give all your spare change to every drifter you see…but if the mood strikes you, go with it. Don’t over-analyze what they might do with that $2.37 you dug out of the ashtray in your car, just give, graciously. In fact, if you feel like giving them a twenty, go right ahead. Maybe they’ll buy gin…but maybe they’ll buy gin and a sandwich…or just the sandwich. I could say, “If it makes you feel better, just buy him the sandwich.” But it isn’t about you—or me—feeling better, is it?

You never know if the act of your giving sparks a chain that leads to that person getting to where they need to be.

You see, this was my morning.

I waited in the always-long Tim Horton’s drive-thru. I watched the above-mentioned scruffy fellow crouch in front, near the entrance with his empty plastic cup. A white truck, four cars ahead of me, placed his order then pulled up and waved the homeless-looking fellow over. The man stood and went over and the driver handed him some money.

I was inspired to do the same, but by the time I got to the area where he was sitting, he had gotten up and started walking down the street. But that was fine, because I had more change after I paid for my coffee. I drove to where he was walking, I saw him there, wearing a child-like smile and talking to himself. I could have decided, “This guy is crazy,” and moved on, and believe me, for a second that did flash through my mind. Instead, I rolled down my window and waved him over.

He smiled. He walked towards my car.

“Would you like some change?” I asked.

He reached out, took the change and said, “Thank you.”

I smiled back at him, “Have a nice day.”

As I drove away, I looked at him. He was back to smiling and talking to himself. My heart welled-up and almost spilled out of my eyes. I was completely moved by the purity of that moment. That exchange between two random souls, unlikely to ever cross paths again.

Now, I am not telling you this so you can all say, “Wow, that Lisa sure is a nice person.” In fact, don’t say that. I was just doing what my mother raised me to do: be kind.

What I am hoping will come of this, is that you open your hearts and minds and do what the spirit moves you to do.

Give.

Share.

Pay it forward. Inspire others to do the same.

Most of all, do not judge human books by the covers they tender. You never know what story lies inside the pages of another human being.

Thank you for listening.

Namaste.

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Social media ~ we can’t escape it. Even if you’ve been living under a rock you likely have an Internet-enabled Smartphone and a Twitter account ~ maybe something clever like: @rockdweller or @stonesthrowaway…I mean, the birds in the oak tree next door are Tweeting, right? Ok, maybe they are actually tweeting, but it stands to reason that you should be too. No one wants to be left back.

I admit I was one of the reluctant ones. I had my reasons. I finally moved past those reasons and embraced social networks. I am so glad I did.

I have had the opportunity to connect (all too briefly, unfortunately) with a long-lost aunt before she passed on to another dimension.  I am infinitely grateful for that. I have always had a strong belief in family and our own personal history ~ I have used Facebook to have a relationship with family members and friends that I otherwise may have never spoken to again as a result of the transient nature of life as we know it.

I have met new friends that I couldn’t have met without these tools. I have discovered, and shared with others, great books and their authors. I have made friends with said authors. I have found opportunities for personal and professional growth. The fulfillment of my lifelong dream of being a writer has come to this point, and will go further, because of it.

The point is, there is no going back; so, how do we move forward and get the benefits of social networking WITHOUT letting it take over our entire lives?

The answer to that is probably a little different for each of us, dependent on whom we are and why we are using these sites. The best reasons are:

• So we can connect with new friends/family from around the world and old ones we have lost touch with,
• So we can build a strong network to expand our chosen career, and
• So we can share our knowledge or expertise in order to help others.

I don’t think I need to list all the WRONG reasons…

Some people are intimidated by these sites. Others are quite savvy. Still others are careless or clueless and do not follow simple protocols to keep their information safe. However, I am not going to address those issues here. The purpose of this blog is to examine how to use social networks without becoming obsessed.

We all know, or have heard of, at least one person who is completely governed by Facebook or Twitter. They post anything and EVERYTHING. A constant stream of TMI (for the uninitiated: Too Much Info) ~ no one is so important that we care if you are stopped at a really long red light or going to the bathroom. Seriously, I promise.

Even though my career as a writer ensures that I am plugged in for a good portion of the day, most of us do have Internet-enabled phones and potential access 24/7. How do we not let a potentially great tool become an addiction? Internet addiction is going to be added as a clinical diagnosis; it is that prevalent. In fact, just Google it ~ (another term that was unknown just a few years ago). At time of writing, there were 18,600,000 hits.

It’s okay to go a little overboard when you first start using a site. It is expected. You are learning the ropes and connecting with friends. Great! If it starts to overtake your life though, you need to dial it back. It really just comes down to what used to be referred to as common sense ~ I say ‘used to’ because, as my one son pointed out when he was around six years old, if not everyone has it, it’s not that common is it. So now, I shall just refer to it as good sense.

We need to have this in order to balance our lives. Just because some of our friends are e-friends, in that we have not and may never actually sit down at a Starbucks and drink a latte together, doesn’t mean they are not real friends. Having said that, we cannot—should not—ignore the people that are IRL (again, for those of you who don’t know: In Real Life).

Personally, I have decided to schedule my social networking time along with my writing, editing, household maintenance and family/friends/me time. It’s not like I can just turn off my Internet connection and write; quite often I need to spontaneously research a term or look up a long-forgotten grammar rule. So, I need the good old standby: self-discipline.

It is no different than if we are trying to stick to a healthy eating plan or get to the gym. Discipline. If you log out for awhile and come back to 937 missed Tweets, so what? Odds are there is nothing you missed that is more important than the thing or person you logged out for.

So, feel free to connect, network with like-minded people, gratuitously self-promote or post a link to that ROTFL (Rolling On The Floor Laughing) YouTube video.

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“An exciting novel, one that will be even better when you do the final polish. ” ~ Joan Hall Hovey

A quote from my mentor and writing tutor,  Joan Hall Hovey, award winning author of  suspense novels: Listen to the Shadows, Nowhere to Hide, Chill Waters and most recently, Night Corridor.

Words that inspire me onwards and upwards…to nurture this novel through its gestational stage to the birth of my dream…

I have tweaked and reworked the beginning (again) as I gain confidence and knowledge of my craft.

The following is an excerpt from my novel,

…Before The Dawn.

I hope you like it and I welcome your feedback. Enjoy…

Chapter 1

In the suffocating darkness of the overstuffed closet, her breathing took on a life of its own. Hard, fast, shallow. Gasping for air.

Her jaw clicked as she clenched down and she felt the tendons in her neck cording tightly. As perspiration began to bead above her upper lip, she bit down on her lower one to silence herself. A coppery taste trickled backwards onto her tongue. She touched her lip tentatively, then drew her finger away. The glow from her phone was sufficient for her to see she had drawn blood.

Isolated as she was now, she could no longer hear the rattling of the sliding glass doors. Was he already inside or did he give up? The not knowing created a sickening hole in the pit of her stomach. She was tempted to push back the row of clothes and ease the closet open, but she knew better.

He hasn’t given up. Wouldn’t. Ever.

The silence amplified each breath as it rose in a crescendo to the  next, building to a deafening rhythm. The pounding of her heart was a wild jungle drum warning of imminent danger. She sucked in some air. Held it. Her grasp tightened around the phone as the seconds ticked on as if stretching into days. “Please,” she murmured quietly. Please.

The ringing stopped, and although she’d been anticipating it, she startled at the sound of the man’s voice. It was so perfectly composed.

She could think of no better word for it, yet, it had the opposite effect on her, escalating emotions and making everything more real, somehow. Her next breath was smooth on the intake, deep going in but fragmented and staccato on the way out. The sound resonated through and around her, as if punctuating her fear.

Faced with her silence, as calmly as before, the man repeated, “Nine-one-one, what is the nature of your emergency?”

She forced composure upon herself. Willed herself to be strong. Hugging the cell phone closer to her ear, she whispered as loud as she dared, “He’s here. Help me, please.”

“Ma’am?”

“Police. I need the police. Now!”

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Trust is an important ingredient in life. We need trust in ourselves,  trust in our family and our friends, trust in our health-care practitioners, trust in people we deal with day to day for business or personal transactions, trust in strangers – whether they are driving on the road with us or preparing food for us to eat.

In fact, we couldn’t really get through a day without blindly trusting someone or a whole bunch of someones. We would become completely agoraphobic. It happens. It is easier to get through life with a healthy mix of trust and caution; there are times when, rightly so, we feel we should not trust an unfamiliar person – if we believe in ourselves in those times, we can make the right choice about trusting that shady-looking stranger.

That inner faith also gives us the instinct to trust when we need to.

Perhaps you got a flat tire on the side of the highway… how do you know if you can or should let the person who stops to help you… well… help? The answer is the same. By trusting yourself.

There is another type of trust that seems a little harder for many of us. It seems it is much easier for us to trust a complete stranger in another city or country to manufacture the pre-packaged meal we cook for dinner than it is for us to trust the Universe.

With so much practice, day in and day out, why is it so challenging to accept that the Universe has a divine plan for us based on what we have put forth in asking for ourselves?

We have so much invested in the time we spend worrying about things. We worry about what will happen tomorrow and we dwell on what happened yesterday. But, what if it was all part of a plan? Our plan. What then?

Have you ever backed off, stopped the worry machine in your mind and just let it be…

If you did, what happened? Did it all work out? Maybe it didn’t. But sometimes that is part of something else working out in the future. When one door closes another one opens, they say. Sometimes we have to go backwards to move forward. Sometimes we need to slow down to speed things up and sometimes we need to lose something dear to us in order to get something new. And, every so often we cannot see how vast the forest is because we are too close to the trees.

The yin and the yang – the give and the take. It is all part of the evolutionary process – the one that pushes us towards our goals, even when we think it is pushing us away.

Hold true but be flexible. Maybe your “gift-horse” won’t look anything like a horse at all when it comes to give you what you have been asking for.

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