The blog of D Kai Wilson-Viola

Author, advocate, designer, mental health advocate and parent. 

How things play out – aka, why it’s taken nearly 11 years to publish Glass Block

How things play out – aka, why it’s taken nearly 11 years to publish Glass Block

I’m inches from publishing my first full-length novel under my own name, and I was going to kinda let it pass without comment, and then I thought ‘I think I wanna talk about this’.
The following is a bit maudlin, a bit ‘ow, crossed legs’ for writers, a bit dumb luck and a bit scary really.  So if you wanna skip it, I understand.
But this is the story of Glass Block.

Where it all started

One evening, around October of 2003, which was about three months after I’d kicked my ex out, and just before the Nanowrimo in November, I was parked in my usual place, in the bath, and Elliot came to visit.  I came back from that bath with seven stories to write, which I dutifully noted down in a private post on my Livejournal.  And filed it for the Nanowrimo.
The Nanowrimo led to me meeting my beloved in a very roundabout way, but Elliot was stuck to me like glue.  In fact, in the first few months of our relationship, said now fiancee commented at least once that he was sharing me and was really quite scared (or pretended to be) when I told the merry-go-round story.  But Glass Block sat.  And sat.

Still hearing voices, three years later

(not to be flippant about hearing voices – I do have problems with what is considered psychosis as well, but if you can’t joke about it…)

So, Elliot’s book series expanded from seven to I think 21 in the years between meeting the other half and starting at Uni (including a house move – a really major one about err…400 miles south).  That was 2007.
Meanwhile…

Glass Block went out to a press in 2005.  Press loved it.  Press closed.
Glass Block went to a senior editor at a really big publishing house.  Was accepted.  Imprint curtailed when editor left.  Three year wait.  At the time, I thought I’d find somewhere else (in 2008).  Oooops.
Glass Block got rewritten and went to another house.  House closed.
In that time I ghostwrote other stuff.  I watched those books do stuff.  I worked with people.  I moved into non-fiction.  I went to Uni and did a degree (where, critically, I just solidified how I used voice – I got so much from that course, and I’ll be forever grateful).  Last house that took it, I got a tiny advance, and then three weeks later, the owner was killed in an accident.

So, I went self-publishing.

You’d think the litany…

Would end?  Nope.  So far, the book has been pirated before it was released, and made me rewrite it again, I’ve been in my first ever car accident and damaged my shoulder so badly that I couldn’t write, and most recently, the server we were on was hacked the week I took off to finish up.  Normally, I’d back off after that and leave the book alone, then take another run at it, but Elliot’s been wandering around singing songs, and niggling at 4am, so here I am, at t-6 days, telling people the horror story that is my attempt to publish the book I adore more than anything else in my literary world.
Book outline swelled to 30 then stalled.  And I thought that was it, till a really innocent comment by one of my university tutors…It currently stands at 59, and I suspect most of my sci-fi (the ones planned anyway) have something to do with the computer system I talk about in the books, in which case, it’s more like close to 100 books in one universe.

Whatcha think?  Would you have given in or be even more determined to get the book out?
(wanna know more about the book?  )

Momentum

Momentum

We move through our lives at a constant pace.  We can accelerate or decelerate ourselves with a limited amount of success, but the speed we do things at, at our base rate at least, is probably something we’ll never change.  Some of us rush headlong into everything and batter through life as fast as we can, hungry for as many new experiences as we can pick up, and tired at the end of each day because we’ve packed in so much.

Others go as slow as possible, savoring every step, and realising, deep down, that they can’t do everything they might want to.

My problem is I want to savor everything, but I want it all.  I have too many hobbies, and too little time on my books for new stuff.  I book far too much into my life, mostly because I can.  My laptop became both my freedom and my curse, because now, there’s a whole world of reading and writing out there, and I get nothing done.
Facebook is a horrible blessing.  I can meet and hang out with so many wonderful people, and keep an eye on my friends, and there are some really cool games on there, but, lets face it, I’ve got a nasty habit of refreshing my page again and again, and then wondering, at 2pm, where my day went.

Worst of all, I’m a person that moves through life with a momentum that pulls others along behind me.  And lately, I kinda feel like I’m out in the middle of a great big ocean, with no chance of finding the new land I was aiming for.  But it feels like I’m stranding other people now and I don’t like that feeling.

Momentum is working out where you’re going and I think that’s the biggest thing for me right now.  I need to work out which map I’m working from – someone else’s or my own.  If I’m working from someone else’s, where can I adapt it so it’s all mine – or if I’m going to dive on in headlong and do it all myself, I need to work out where I want to go – there are *so many* choices right now.

What I do know is tomorrow begins my ninth Nanowrimo.  I’m really looking forward to it.  It gives me another month to work out and plan the roller coaster that is about to be my life.  One way or another, things will start resolving and working out the way I want to.

Plans are coming soon, though.  I’m happy to report there *is* a plan, but it’s difficult to see whether it’s the right choice right now.  So I’m going to have a bit of fun with my writing for a bit, and see where that takes me.  It’s too easy for me to lose sight of what I wanted to do when I started out online – which was writing.  I’ve gone all over the web since, looking for something that’s ‘all me’ but what I am, underneath it all, is a writer.

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