Today I Became A Published Writer

Well, hey there! See that headline? It's true. My writer pants grew one size bigger today. There is a published article on the everlasting-internet with words that I wrote, and my name attached under the title. Cue the heart-eyes emoji. Cue the confetti and cupcakes. Cue the 12-year-old girl squeals.


Part of my daily routine is to read news sites like CNN and The Huffington Post when I have free time. While reading an article about divorce on the latter website one afternoon, I saw a call for new divorce bloggers.


Divorce is always such a touchy subject to write about. It's a very personal thing, and many things happen throughout the relationship and the breakup that most people don't know about. I went through a divorce at a young age, and it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do to this day. But writing about things helps me deal with them and get closure-- so I sat down and poured my heart out to my keyboard. I was so nervous, but I submitted the article anyway while I was still feeling somewhat brave.


Months went by without a response, so I put it out of my mind and chalked it up to another rejection letter. I'm getting used to those, as every writer should. Then one day, I saw the glorious, "RE: Story Submission," subject line in my inbox. The Huffington Post was interested in my article!


So I edited it down to half the word count of what I'd originally submitted, and created my HuffPost blogger profile. I finally felt like a real writer, and it was one of the most exciting days of my life. That excitement was doubled today when the article went live, but only for a moment.


The realization of what I'd just posted hit me like a ton of bricks when strangers started to give their two cents on my life, mental health, and marriage like they knew me better than I know myself. That always comes with being published though, and I was aware it would happen when I submitted. And honestly, it's good people are commenting, because that means people other than family, close friends, and agents are finally reading my work.


But I panicked for a moment, worried about who I might offend or hurt with my words, not to mention I was basically walking naked out into middle of the internet, waving my arms like a wacky-waving-inflatable-arm-flailing-tube-man.

E.g.

I just wanted to say that I am proud of myself for telling this story, because my nine-year relationship with my ex-husband was a big chunk of my life. I don't regret any of it, and I still care about his well-being. I mean no hard feelings towards anyone, but there are always two sides to every story. This one is mine. Or what I could condense into 800 words, anyway.


The most important thing is that we are both happy now, as he is getting married this month, and I am blissfully living with the most amazing man I've ever had the pleasure of loving.


I have never been happier in my personal life, and now I have a published article on a national website. Life is pretty good today. :D

Here it is!  

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/stefanie-marks/rang-in-25th-birthday-with-divorce-papers_b_8210454.html

Life Is Beautiful

 

Dear Julia,

I just want you to know that you are so loved. I've thought about you at least 1,697 times today. I found myself crying in the middle of Target this afternoon because it seemed like every time I turned around, there you were. Pieces of your beautiful soul are everywhere. 

I've only known you for two years, but you have no idea what an impact you made on me in that short time. 

1.) The fact that from Day 1 of meeting me, you called me Stefani ("you know, like Gwen?") and never called me anything but.  

2.) The way you shared your addiction to chewy sweet tarts with me (thanks for that, by the way. Those things are like crack). 

3.) The way you sang "Georgia" every time anyone did a Waffle House deposit. 

4.) You were the only person I knew who shared a slight obsession with me over Leonardo DiCaprio, because he has somehow managed to get MORE good looking since Titanic. "Can't repeat the past? Oh I assure you, old sport, you can." (You can pretend to die in the ocean as a poor guy and then come back as a rich guy, only to actually die in a pool--our Great Gatsby/Titanic conspiracy theory!)

5.) Even though you sort of tortured Jade's cat (let's not forget the time you shaved him), I know deep down you really loved him. 

6.) And then there was the night that we both drank too much, yet you still rubbed my back while I threw up hot wings in some guy's driveway. 

ALL things I will never forget. 

But the way you lit up every room you entered was my favorite. I could have been having the worst day, and you would walk in and change the atmosphere of the entire building, making it impossible to not be happy. You had a presence about you that will continue to live on for years and years to come, because nobody that knew you can think about you and not smile. 

Not only could you always make everyone laugh, but you had the biggest heart. I'll never forget the day you told off the man in the doctor's office because he was making fun of his autistic son. And the little boy you bought Christmas presents for because he told you that Santa wasn't going to come see him this year. And even the day you insisted I take your hair tie because you couldn't stand to see me wad mine up with a rubber band, because you knew it would "hurt like a bitch" later, taking it out. You always saw the best in people (with that one exception that we'll just keep between us, because I totally agree with you) and it rubbed off on every single one.

You came from one of the most amazing families I've had the pleasure of meeting, and I know that they had a huge part in making you who you were. You can take comfort in the fact of knowing that virtually every one of the people who you have made friends with have been there to help, or have offered to help them get through this rough week. I have never seen so much food in one kitchen in my life. You are treasured by SO many people, sweet girl.

The day you stopped breathing was not the day your life ended. I am just ONE of the hundreds of people you have touched. Every time someone has a memory of you--and believe me, you are not the type of girl people will EVER forget--your life is carried on. Life IS beautiful, as you loved to say. And you can bet that none of us will ever take for that granted. Because after all, "YOLO, baby!" I love you, Joo-Ya!! You will be with me, always. 

               

Love Your Neighbor

I have tried my best to hold my tongue over the whole Chick-Fil-A thing. But I have found over the past few days that I feel very strongly about this, and since this is my blog, I am going to use it as an outlet to say how I feel. Read it or don't, I am not trying to change anyone's mind or beliefs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and I do not judge anyone who believes anything other than what I do.

And Another One Draws To A Close...

2011 was sort of a big year for me.

1.) In February, I finally decided to follow my dreams and focus on becoming a published author, and I changed my major in college (for the fifth time) to the one I TRULY wanted to pursue: Creative Writing.

2.) In March, I had my first experience with critique partners (there are some MEAN people out there. But I found my writing soul mate after many trial and error critiques. Here's looking at you, Amy!). And thank you, thank you, Natalie Parker, who was gentle but tough, and helped me fix all kinds of things this year. But I also realized that my novel kinda sucked, thanks to those mean people. So thank you mean girl who told me that "people don't talk in contractions". You were... right about some things.

3.) I then spent April through September re-writing my novel for the fourth time.

4.) On September 18th,  I finished my first full-length novel. 

5.) From September to October, I edited my first full-length novel.

6.) On October 4th, I freaking submitted my first full-length novel to agents.

7.) In October and November, I got TWO manuscript requests (with one rejection and still waiting for a response on the other)

8.) January-December, I LEARNED SO MUCH ABOUT THE PUBLISHING BUSINESS!  And I definitely learned things about myself as a writer along the way. For example, I write my best scenes when there's good music playing in my ears. Or that I can only plot with a paper and pen and can only write scenes by typing. Or that I CANNOT write on the couch (the words REFUSE to come to me there for some reason. Embarrassingly, I've written my best stuff in the bathtub)

So, I must say, 2011 was a very, very productive year for me. I learned that rejection is inevitable, and that it HURTS. I learned writing a novel with a beginning, middle, end, and all the stuff in between is HARD. But in 2011, I learned that I CAN write a novel, and I plan to do it again and again and again.

 I want to thank Jackson Pearce, Maggie Stiefvater, and Mary Kole for the infinite amounts of knowledge on their blogs!!!

And as for 2012??????? I have HUGE plans. :-D

What about you?

Flying Squirrels

Whoa, it's been more than two months since I've posted a blog! I have been spending all my free time trying to finish the first draft of my novel before school starts back in a few weeks. I am happy to say that I am down to the last 10,000 words or so, and I am ITCHING to get this thing done. So many people have basically laughed in my face when I told them that I wanted to be an author, and I want to prove them WRONG. Like one day, I went to the doctor for a stomach virus, and as he poked and prodded my abdomen, he asked what I was going to school for. I told him creative writing because I am going to be a novelist. (I have stopped saying "want to be a novelist" and have switched to "going to be a novelist". Because, you know, I just AM) Anyway, this doctor chuckled at my mention of writing books for a living, and said, "So what are you planning to do when that doesn't work out?"

I am completely aware that becoming a successful novelist is rare, and that it is a long, grueling, make-you-wanna-pluck-out-your-eyeballs process to write a book and have it sold to a publisher. And I'm also aware that even if a book does sell, it might not hit it off with the general public. The only people that may buy it in stores are my mom, sister, and few friends. But I'm okay with that. Writing is what I love. And do you think I am going to invest years of time and sweat and tears into something that I haven't researched??? Probably not. Hey doctor, did anybody laugh at you and ask you what you were going to do when med school didn't work out? Probably not. So back off and give me some anti-nausea medicine, already. 

Anyway, I know I've said it in my posts before that you shouldn't let other people negatively influence your dream, no matter what it is, I will say it again: DON'T FALTER. Especially if you tell people that you are going to do something crazy like write books or become a singer or cure cancer or eat the world's largest meatball, people are going to roll their eyes and laugh at you like you are a silly little dreamer with no sense of reality. But that's because the majority of the population are like lemmings. They follow what the person beside them does and try not to stand out any way that might make them seem different. But guess what? You ARE different. You ARE special. Make that person feel like they aren't cool for being different instead of the other way around. 

I so didn't mean for this post to become so long. It was meant to be a fun story about my experiences with flying squirrels (yes, experienceS. They follow me), but my frustration with the world for being mean to creative people spilled out a little, and it's hard to stop it once it starts. So after the page break, I will leave you with some funny stories. :-) (I'm telling you, my life is weirdo. Craziness stalks me)

Reality TV

*Reader Warning* - If you enjoy any show with word "housewives" in the title, then this post will most likely piss you off. You were warned.

I have a question for the world today: Why does anyone watch reality television? No scratch that: it should be titled "reality" television, with quotes around the word. Because there is absolutely nothing REAL about it. I get the premise of it. I mean it's neat to be able to see how other people around the world live. It's cool to be able to see inside rich people's houses. But it ends there for me. 

Most of these "reality" shows are only about fame seeking, fake careers and the idiotic people that chase those dreams. Don't get me wrong, I would love to one day have my name printed on a book jacket that everyone has on their bookshelves. I would be ecstatic for people to point at me and whisper, "Hey, I think that is Stefanie Jones. She wrote that book that I read over and over and worship in my basement with secret candlelit rituals every full moon." (Okay, maybe that's a bit extreme, but you KNOW those people are out there. *shudders*) But I wouldn't invite strangers with cameras into my home and pretend to do things like sleep with my best friend's boyfriend just so that I could achieve that dream. 

Since the "Housewives" shows seem to be so popular, I decided to sit down one day and give one of them a try when I came across a marathon on Bravo. I thought, "This might be funny. Maybe I'm thinking about these shows in the wrong light. Maybe these women actually have some depth that I've somehow missed." Yeah.... My husband had to listen to me rant for three hours after watching approximately two minutes of the show...

Night Owl

I am curious as to what makes an "early bird" and what makes a "night owl".  I am the latter, where my husband is the former.  He is ready for bed at 8:00 p.m.  every night.  I am usually just getting started by then.  If it were up to me, I would stay up until 2:00 a.m. and not wake until about 11:00 or 12:00 the next day.  Oh wait! It IS up to me, because that is exactly what I do (when I can)! No matter how early I go to bed, I DETEST any time before 10:00 a.m.  Catch me before then, and all you get in return is a grumble or two.  Maybe an eye roll.  Or a hiss.  I am NOT a morning person.  Even when I was little, I NEVER wanted to get up and watch early morning cartoons on Saturday.  Four year old Stefanie would get MAD if someone tried to wake me before I was ready.  Heck, I still do.  I have broken several alarm clocks...

But seriously, what makes a night owl?  I feel most productive after 9:00 p.m.  I have no clue why.  If I sat down and tried to work on my novel, I guarantee you that I would get a higher word count AND more carefully crafted phrases in the middle of the night than I would at, say, lunchtime.  It's like my brain doesn't turn on until the sun goes down.  

But some people can jump right out of bed with a smile on their face and a "good morning- no, GREAT morning" on their lips.  SOME people can wake up and be immediately alert and ready to grab the pick-axe and head off to the salt mines.  I am not one of those people.  

But I love to sleep.  People tease me about it, but I DON'T CARE.  It's fun.  I could sleep ALL day and not get tired of it (yes, I meant that pun. Yes, I am lame).  My excuse is that I have a very LARGE imagination, and my dreams are more interesting than any t.v. show or movie.  They make absolutely NO sense when I wake up, but while I am actually dreaming them, they are the intense and, well, awesome.  I wish there was some way to record a dream, even though I would probably be studied after showing it to someone.  (They get pretty weird.  I mean, REALLY weird).  I have the type of dreams that I like to think cats have.  You know, when you see a cat (or a dog, I'm an equal opportunist) twitching like they are running from something. Like that dream is so intense, their body moves along with whatever is happening to them in their sleep world.  You can probably find me twitching and sighing and mumbling and all sorts of other hilarious things pretty much every night.  

NIght owl or early bird, insomniac or comatose, everybody has their own sleeping and waking preferences.  Do you like sleep as much as I do, or do you prefer to be awake?  Are you a night owl, or an early bird?  Have any funny dream stories?  I'd love to hear them!  If you want to hear any of my crazy dreams (which happen multiple times every night) just ask, and I will be happy to share.  My brain is quite entertaining.

(Just for the record, my snoring, twitching cat inspired this post.  At 12:00 a.m., by the way.  O_O ME AWAKE!)