Category: Excitement Page 1 of 2

“Nothing I like doing more than spanking rocks with my baby.”

And so began construction of my little office, with the shoveling and pounding of two yards of gravel.

"Yeah baby, spank those rocks. Spank 'em good."

“Yeah baby, spank those rocks. Spank ’em good.”

August 2013. The back story: For the past two years if I wanted to work from home I had little in the way of options: the couch, my bed or the kitchen table. None of those are spaces that are conducive to focus and concentration. We live in a 1,000-square-foot house, so space is at a premium. My old office got turned into a bedroom when Kid 2 was born, and my husband’s office is eligible for an episode of Hoarders.

We looked at converting our spare bedroom in the basement, but we do have company from time to time, and frankly, that room is grim. Dark, cold and devoid of sunlight. Then I went a bit crazy and started thinking about building an addition on the house, but spending $100k is a little outside our budget. Then I thought, why not insulate the space above the garage? But as it turned out, building a habitable space up in the rafters would require raising the roof by several feet.

So obviously the only logical solution is an outbuilding.

I don’t want to call it a shed, but it’s a shed. A cozy, furnished, heated and powered shed, but a shed nonetheless. We bought a prefab kit that looked like it would suit the job. The reviews online said two people could put it together in about eight hours. Neither of us are particularly handy people, so we figured a weekend of hard work could get it done.

This is what we accomplished the first day.

This is what we accomplished the first day.

I’m not sure even Mike Holmes (sorry, Americans and overseas readers – I don’t know who the US equivalent would be. Pick the star of your favourite home reno show) could put this together in eight hours. Maybe day two would see more progress?

End of Day 2. I have a floor and one corner.

End of Day 2. I have a floor and one corner.

Screw this noise. We are working until we drop. Long past sundown, into the wee hours of the morning, we had something that was starting to look like a small shed.

And then I dropped.

And then I dropped.

So my husband and I are lying there on the floor, looking up at the stars, when the same thought crosses our minds:

"I wonder how high those power lines are?"

“I wonder how high those power lines are?”

It’s funny because we genuinely have no idea and will find out when we attempt to put the roof on.

Monday saw us both back at work so we only had a couple hours in the evening. We put part of the roof together and installed the skylights. Skylights! We had to stop when I started wearing one of the gable pieces like a hat and the husband told me I should wear it to bed because it made me look like a sexy roofing nun.

Tuesday I tried to assemble a door (yes a door) by myself and it brought me to tears.

Wednesday. Installed two doors and a gable all by myself. Used pieces of furniture in place of helping hands to hold things steady. Broke my middle finger hitting it with a hammer. Total drag. I use that one a lot.

Saturday. We call in reinforcements. In other words, my father-in-law. It’s together… sort of. The doors don’t close. We have to re-level it and shim it and possibly sacrifice a small animal to the ancient ones.

Some weeks later, after multiple calls to the manufacturer, the doors close tolerably. Only it’s the end of fall. There’s frost on the ground in the morning. Winter is around the corner. Winter in Canada. No point in working on it now…

Spring 2014. We have had a hellish winter. I’ve been writing in coffee shops and my bedroom and airport departure gates and everywhere but my little shed. So I’m like, let’s get this shit done. We start cleaning out the winter debris and moving furniture in as time permits.

Today: the husband takes Kid 1 and Kid 2 camping for the weekend and I am free to move things into my shed uninterrupted. I’ve been collecting various things for the past year, and they finally have a home.

A wordsmithette's home.

A wordsmithette’s home.

My desk.

My desk.

A few typewriter friends... from left to right: Ivy, Casper the Haunted Typewriter and The First.

A few typewriter friends… from left to right: Ivy, Casper the Haunted Typewriter and The First.

Awesome, right? It still needs to be wired for electricity – currently I’m making do with an extension cord – and I have a couple more pictures to frame and hang, but for all intents and purposes, it’s finished.

I love it. It’s my own place. Everyone knows the famous quote from Virginia Woolf: “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction.” This is my room of my own. I will do great things here. 

(with inspiration from My Cool Shed.)

History Repeats Itself

I think I’ve mentioned before that the series I’m writing right now came about because I heard a couple songs together while I was driving one day. Sometimes when I’m listening to music, especially in the car or on the bus when my head is only half-focused on it, a verse or even a line will catch my attention and my mind is off and running. So that was that, but I’ve been struggling for awhile to make the end of the story come together and wrap up all the loose ends. The solution I originally came up with felt less than original and had some holes that I knew I’d have to fill.

As a result, it was difficult to get motivated to start writing the final installment in the series, and after mocking up an outline riddled with holes, I idled.

Ahh, but then. Once again, whatever literary muse that seems to live inside my iPod struck again. One verse of one song, a song iTunes says I’ve played dozens of times, fixed my porous plot problem. Not only that, but my new ending sort of flips the bird at some genre conventions.

The funny part is for a long time I was actually mishearing the lyrics, and it wasn’t until I learned the correct words that the idea was born. Oops.

Posting the song would be a huge spoiler so I’m keeping it under wraps, which is too bad because I love it. Someday, maybe.

But that’s not all, folks. Not long after, while navigating a traffic circle after dropping the kids off at school one morning, the iPod muse hit hard. One line was all it took. New book, could be a series. Completely different from what I’m working on right now. And I’m so excited to start writing it, so much so that I’m conflicted on what I should be working on right now – finish the series I’ve been writing for the past two years, or new project? I’m terrible at making decisions so I might literally pick one out of a hat and run with it.

While I’ve been waffling over that decision, and now that I’m starting to climb out of the dark hole I was mired in (yay), I’ve finished the ninth (!) draft of The Unraveling and I feel like I’m ready to start querying again after my less-than-successful results last year. With my new opening scene I hope to get some positive feedback this time around.

I often turn to music for ideas when I write, but my favourite moments are when the iPod gives me an unexpected gift, a real moment of inspiration, and it’s encouraging to know that I still have that spark despite the pall of depression that is thankfully starting to dissipate. I’m excited about life and about writing again. It’s good to be back.

Milestones

I crossed the 100,000-word mark on the first draft of The Unseeing the other day. Woooo!

It was a nice feeling to check my word count and see six digits for the first time. I’m past my uninspired funk and I think I’m about 5,000 words away from the ending. Between here and there I’m not quite sure what’s going to happen though – my outline has been stubbornly vague and my head isn’t filling in the blanks either.

However I’m heading on an extended road trip tomorrow – 9 days of exploring the Pacific Northwest and northern California – and I’m sure all that time in the car will lend to some daydreaming and idea sifting. It’s our tenth wedding anniversary this month! Also the first time we’ve gone away without the kids – our last trip alone together was to Paris almost seven years ago, when I was pregnant with Kid 1. I ended up setting the books I’m currently writing in that city after I fell in love with it – I wonder if Portland or Seattle will become the inspiration for a new story?

And if you’re into that sort of thing, stay tuned for some exciting typewriter posts. I have four to pick up at a shipping drop point once we cross the border, and have been busy restoring another one at home for the past week. I don’t know if I want to introduce them one at a time, or all together, but the blog is going to get a little typewriter-heavy in the next while.

Lastly, I decided that rather than knocking down walls in my house to make space for a small office for myself, I’m going to build myself a little outbuilding in our backyard, insulate it and make it my writing headquarters. If all goes according to plan, construction will begin next month.

Big achievements accomplished, and big things on the horizon! These days it feels like everything’s coming up Nicole.

Shenanigans

I’m working on my outline some more. So much fun! I’m enjoying seeing the basic structure unfold.

I don’t go into great detail, just bullet points describing key scenes in a short paragraph. Some of them are only a few words long.

My very favourite part is these two points, back-to-back:

  • Shower-stall time machine.
  • Major next-day awkwardness. Now Callie’s really confused.

It makes perfect sense when you read the rest of the outline, but out of context, all on its own like that, it’s more than a little ridiculous. Which is why it’s my favourite part. And for anyone who’s read The Unravelling, you’re probably scratching your head right now, thinking, what the hell? Which was my intention all along.

Also. ALSO! I scored an incredible find on Kijiji today. It’s 100% the best thing I’ve ever bought from there. Check it out:

It’s a Smith-Corona Super-5. I did a bunch of research on it today and from what I can gather it’s from 1956 and is one of the best manual typewriters ever made. It works pretty well, too! I only paid $20 but from what I’ve learned it could be worth a lot more. Like if I was on Storage Wars it would be the find of the day. Not that I’d consider selling it though. I’m totally in love with it, and it’s found a home on my bookshelf. I plan to pull it out from time to time to shake things up when I’m stuck for ideas. And post-2012/peak oil/comet strike/nuclear war/rapture/solar super-flare/your favourite apocalyptic end times scenario here, guess who’s still going to be able to write while the rest of you are trying to hack your Macbooks to take D-cells? This girl, that’s who.

Want to learn more about my typewriters? Check them out here.

Fear and Excitement

That pretty much sums it up. I just submitted The Unravelling to Harper Voyager’s open call for unpublished novels. It’s the first time I’ve sent it off anywhere, and I’ve been editing and revising frantically for the past four days to have it done in time. It was a little scary to click the ‘submit’ button (and super-annoying after I worked myself up to it yesterday only to find that entries were no longer being accepted, but that was resolved today, whew) and send my heart’s work off for strangers to pick apart.

To do so I had to write my first query letter as well. Wanna read what I sent? I’d love opinions and critiques so I can improve on it.

Attn: Agent X:

In the heart of Montmatre, Paris, touch-phobic songwriter Callie Kincaid’s best friend is murdered by a terrifying creature, triggering a cataclysmic series of events and forcing her to team up with enigmatic alchemist Remy Dane to discover the root of her fears and the powers behind them as the fabric of the world begins to unravel.

The Unravelling follows Callie’s quest to avenge her best friend’s killing in a world that’s increasingly falling apart. Earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and tidal waves have killed millions in the past month, and the disasters aren’t natural. The creatures terrorizing Paris seem to think she has something they’re looking for, but as far as she’s concerned she’s just a normal girl who happens to be able to sense the emotions of others when she touches them. Under the tutelage of Dane, Callie begins to learn to harness the abilities that have hidden behind her phobia, but is she strong enough to overcome her fears and find the key to ending the chaos that has overtaken the world? The Unravelling, complete at just over 100,000 words, is the first of a three-book series that continues with The Unseeing, currently a work in progress, and The Unknowing, outlined.

I’m a freelance writer whose work has been published in The Calgary Herald, The Calgary Sun, Avenue Magazine, Resorts Magazine, Birth of a Mother and many others. I have also worked as a scriptwriter and researcher for the nationally-televised non-fiction series Taste! The Beverage Show, Wine Basics, Beer Basics and Spirit Basics. The Unravelling is my second novel.

Thank you for your consideration,

Nicole Bross

What do you think? Would you want to read this book?

(if you happen to see a spelling or grammatical error included in the above, please, please don’t point it out, I’ll be crushed and will obsess over it endlessly)

(the letter wasn’t actually addressed to Agent X either, that’s just my place filler for a real person’s name)

Ahem.

I finished it. I finished the first draft of my book.

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

I sat down this morning with the beginning of Chapter 21 blank and waiting, and about 45 minutes ago, after 4,600 words, I wrote THE END. And it really is THE END for a lot of things, for me. It’s the end of wondering if I could ever write a book. It’s the end of seven months of near-constant work, either at the computer or in my brain, to get to this day. And it’s the end of the first part of my journey with these people who have set up residence in my head.

It’s also a lot of firsts and starts. The start of the next step – revision. The first time I’ll offer up a copy to anyone I know in exchange for some critiques. And maybe even the start of planning out the next installment in the series, which I already can’t wait to jump into.

When I wrote the last sentence, after making sure that I really did want to write it, I stared it for a long time. And I had a whole bunch of conflicting emotions. First and foremost, I’m proud of myself. The first time someone told me that I should be an author was, I think, around the time I was ten years old. So this has been a long road. Secondly, I’m really, really happy to be done and moving on. It’s been a huge undertaking and a lot of times I wondered if I would end up giving up. Third, I’m bittersweet. I’ve been doing this since February and now it’s just over? In that respect, I’m glad there are still two more books to go in the series, because that means I don’t really have to say goodbye for a long time. Still, I had a bit of a cry. And fourth, I’m tired as hell. I stayed up late and wrote like crazy because I thought I could get it done, and I was right.

So that’s that. Onward and upward, as they say. Today’s a pretty big deal.

Farewell, Summer

I sat outside in the yard for what will probably be the last time this year, the sun shining on my face, and wrote. We’re expecting our first snowfall early next week, and I work during the day tomorrow and Monday. I’ve loved writing this summer. Being outside has been so inspirational for me, and I’ll miss it until spring comes around again.

It’s probably fitting then that I’m coming to the end of my book just as summer’s also winding down. There’s a remote possibility that I may even finish tonight – I’m on the last chapter, I’ve already written 2,000 words and I still have the whole night ahead of me. Then I have to decide if I want to tackle re-writing the first two chapters right away, or sit on the whole thing for a bit. I’ve been thinking on those chapters for awhile and I’m fairly confident I know what I want to do with them. Then once they’re bright and shiny new I can rest up a bit and do my revisions as planned at the beginning of November. Sounds like a good plan to me…

Oh Dear

Callie’s in a pretty tough spot right now. Things are looking dire. Will anyone come to her rescue?

This is what I was listening to this afternoon when I dumped the kids in Ikea Smaland and then wrote in the cafeteria for an hour:

I think if I buckle down and find some time every day I’m as little as one week away from finishing…

I did it!

So I’m outing myself as a total noob here, but I’m going to do a little happy dance for a minute because I just achieved a very important goal to me, one that a year ago I would have thought was entirely impossible. For all those longtime authors with a few books under their belts this is totally going to be nbd. But for me it’s like, squeeee!

Crazy, hey? I was hoping I’d get it done tonight, and I did, adding about 1,400 words. I can smell the end now, it’s so close (and by close I mean within 20,000 words). I kind of hate to stop where I did tonight, but it’s late and tomorrow’s a school day for the grom. I’ll go to bed happy though, knowing I hit a milestone that I’ve been working toward for over six months.

Exciting! Yay! Exclamation points everywhere!!

Goal-Slash-Throwdown

I’m setting a challenge for myself. An achievable goal. A milestone to work toward. And I’m going to write it out so I am held accountable, because there’s nothing more motivating than public failure.

At the beginning of November I’m going to Mexico for a week with my sister. The goal is to have a completed first draft of The Unravelling by then so I can sit on the beach with my red pen and a printed manuscript and start identifying areas for revision.

The last time I went on a tropical vacation, to Hawaii in April, I brought my laptop with me but didn’t write a single word (I also had two kids to entertain, whereas this is going to be a girls-only trip, so there’s that). I aim for this to be different.

So there you go. Ten weeks to get ‘er done. I think it’s doable.

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