Newsletter June-July

Posted on by sereichert

Hey kids,

It’s that extra special time of the month….no, not that one. The other thing… Where I tell you all of the fantastically boring things happening in my life, and see if there’s a chance you want to join in. Let’s not waste time, I know we’re all excited (she said with a sarcastic shrug).

In, non-writing related news, the bathroom is done y’all. It’s pretty nice. Though the tub is tiny, and the toilet seat fell off last night. It’s mostly functioning. Here’s a little gander:

What else? The xeriscaping is complete and we’ve got a few new garden beds planted. I’m not sure how much of it will survive, but I’m crossing my fingers and hopeful. The idea is that if we can grow a few things, we’ll have to buy a little less. My oldest has been reading “Braiding Sweetgrass” and so we have a whole box devoted to the three sisters. I’m excited to see how it all turns out. Also, some berry bushes and a poor decision of climbing grapes for the trellis. I don’t know shit about grapes. Especially in Colorado, but *shrugs, let’s giver a go.

Their names are Geoff and Gerald.

So…all in all…it is less chaos, and that’s something good for a change.

Reading:

In reading news, I’m still reading “Night Vision: Seeing Ourselves Through Dark Moods” by Mariana Alessandri, and enjoying it. I’ve finished Chuck Wendig’s “The Book of Accidents”. It was a wild ride and I keep having thoughts about doors and making ways into other dimensions. Check it out. I’m also finished with “Walking the Invisible: Following the Bronte’s Footsteps.” by Michael Stewart. It was such a lovely book, interweaving the historical record, with literary insights, tied to the land they lived and walked through. It also was charming in the way Stewart made the journey personal and whimsical. (Personal favorite was using “Steven Kinged” as a verb)

Next, I think I’ll be reading “The Benevolent Society of Ill-Mannered Ladies by Allison Goodman. You have to love a dedication that begins this way:

Writing and Editing:

I’ve picked out the cover for “Heir to Time” and the release date is set for August 11th! I’ll try to work up some fun cover reveals. My problem, I’ve realized is that by the time I get done promoting and managing Writing Heights, I have very little drive to promote my personal stuff. But… I’ll work on it because I’m really excited to get this series out in total. I’ll let you know about book signings that will be coming up.

I’ve finished my first round of edits from the publisher on the 5 Prince Publishing’s first shared-town anthology novella. My little derelict of a Hallmark failure is currently doing okay, with only some minor consistency checks to make and solidifying ideas of faith. If I can do that for Isaac Engel, you think I could do it for myself *shrugs again (my god she’s shruggy today). I’ll be offering a spicy, annexed chapter from Eight Nights in Everpine, on my Substack. Follow me for more details on that.

My mythology based, contemporary fantasy, set in the Ornkey Islands north of Scotland and south of Scandinavia is on the post-it board, and I’m trying to make sure I do a better job of writing the last as good as the first. If you like demons and fairies, Valkyries and björns, witches and merfolk… you’re gonna love this one. I already do.

some of the board was cut off to preserve surprises

In addition, I’m playing around with a little apocalyptic satire that sprung up whilst I was sitting in a green park near Leeds Beckett, thinking about the formidable knowledge of birds and the equally crippling idiocy of humans. I’m not sure it will go anywhere, but it sure is fun to write in a different genre and style. So far I have four main characters that are all a little neurotic in some way, and for some reason have been deemed worthy enough to be saved from certain disaster.

I’m keeping up with my submissions, but missed last week because I honestly just completely forgot to do it. Maybe two this week? Maybe I’ll give myself grace, who knows? *again shrugs

Events

Wyoming Writers Conference:

I survived it. I met a lot of great people. I had a weird, and kind of intense existential crisis. I bought some books. I sold a few (AND kudos to Wyoming because I sold more of my Male-Male romance there then I have anywhere else). I won first place for Adult Fiction (Short Story) and Flash Fiction, which was a pleasant surprise. I’m still on the board for next year, as it’s a two-year term. But now that I know how it goes, hopefully I’ll get through it a little smoother with less crying in my hotel room.

Quid Novi Presentation.

In June (30th at 5:30pm), I’ll be presenting for Quid Novi and Writing Heights on the best ways to utilize a writing community, how to find them, what to expect, and how to get the most out of them. We’ll discuss how they can help not just network as a little-known writer, but also give you valuable insights to every part of the process. It takes place in Loveland at the Forge (next to Grimm Brothers Brewery) and there will be authors there selling their books as well. You can register for that here. Quid Novi

July Class on The Feminine Divine:

In July, I’ll be teaching a class for The Pause, a cool writing group devoted to mid-life women. The class will center on exploring the power of the Feminine Divine and the innate knowledge of body to explore expression. Its a topic I think about a lot, especially in a patriarchy where so much of what we ‘know’ is beaten down or ignored. And how so much of that knowledge would have actually saved the human race a heapful of grief, suffering and death. Anyway, we’ll be exploring how to tap into that, how to trust ourselves, and how to use what we know to help others. Here’s more about that organization: The Pause Writers

Closing:

A lot of things have come up, washed over, and receded in my life this last month. I’ve had some wounds on my old heart reopened, and it revealed a lot about the darkness of loss I’d been burying under obligation and to-do lists. (Thus the nearly-self harm crisis) I’ve had to think about what’s good for me and what I do simply because I want to please others. It’s made me think of all the things I do out of obligation, but not out of joy or love. And that’s a hard place to find yourself. I feel like I’m carrying a lot of big questions on my shoulders lately, about where to go, how to proceed, and what I know I need to give up. How to do that. How to let go. How to not worry about the disappointments of others in the face of my own spiraling mental health. It’s a lot. It always has been. But I guess seeing it and acknowledging that something needs to be done is one step closer to cleaning out those wounds, yes? (*adds shrug here).

I hope you’re taking time off to rest and be beautifully bored this summer. I’ll try to find a couple of those moments myself.

Take care of yourselves. Take care of each other.

The Tumultuous Writer’s Mind

Posted on by sereichert

I’ve struggled with a post this week. Either to launch into some deft and cuttingly beautiful poetry, or as Melanie Griffith once said in “Working Girl” to hit you with my smarts. I don’t have a lot of poetry or smarts today. Sorry.

Life has been chocked full of events. Some of them are little, and benign. Some of them seem like…not a big deal, but they rift something deep within the surface and you end up spending the week dealing with the ripples that have become tsunamis. Part drowning, part relishing the destruction of old temples and ideals that held you for far too long in subjecation. In any case…you start to question, where you’re at. What you’re doing? Are you living well? Are you loving well? Are you taking all the advantage of this one wild life? Or are you… stagnant? Have you slept too long in comfort and stopped fighting for something…far greater? Have you given up truth and freedom for discomfort for blissful ignorance?

And why not? Out of fear? Out of habit? Out of…this is how it’s always been and why should I wish more for myself?

It’s hard. As humans. As writers. To trust our own individual worth. Our creativity. What we offer the world. Why does it even matter in dark and vast sea of a million different voices?

Especially when cookie cutter, and formulamatic fiction seems to be the thing that draws in the most eyes… Well…shit I don’t know. There’s very little money in truth. There’s very little fame or fortune in telling the general masses something interesting and thought provoking and…god help us…challenging to their idiom. Please, as the Briar Rabbit once cried, don’t throw me into the thorn bush…Please don’t make me…think…

Is there room for the artist in this world? Is there room for the intellectual? The person disconnected from the constant spin and pizzaz of what constitutes journalism and entertainment (trick question, there’s no difference between the two now) these days. Is there room in the world for the person who chooses to turn of their screens and the voices and the barrage of constant, dumbing down information to sit still…and think… and write? About an original idea, about the absolute absurdity of life? To write something that makes us think? When was the last time you read such a thing? Such a strange soul-stirring thing? When was the last time you sat in silence, and contemplated the idea that in your not-so-distant-past, your brain kept you alive in a world full of real dangers and still managed to tell a decent story. That you were designed…for far better things. Not monetary, not status related. But…soul worth…When did you last wonder if all of this noisy bullshit was beneath you? Because I’m pretty sure it is.

I am weary of this world. It holds so little that matters. It has become so much neon pink and drowning narcissism.

I don’t have a blog for you.

I’m too busy thinking. On my own. Observing, with eyes, not videos. Listening to all perspectives, shouting to be heard… And even if I had something worthwhile to tell you, about you, your existence, about the white washed reality you’ve been fed, all the anxieties they’ve readily given you to keep you engaged on numbing little pills, I’m not sure anybody is ready to listen.

Postulating Purpose

Posted on by sereichert

Hello friends. Today is the start of the Writing Heights Writers Conference here in Fort Collins, so I’ll be away from my website and blog for a few days while I help out.

I’ve been a part of the writing community for quite a few years (15?) and have attended several conferences, classes and events as both a member and now part of the team. Far from being an expert, I feel like I’m still learning things every time I step out into these forays with other writers. About writing, yes, but also about trends, and people, and methods, and humanity. And myself. Lately, I haven’t been very impressed with myself as a writer. In fact, my startling lack of creativity and drive has been kind of frightening. Even an 800 word blog post feels like a struggle. Nevermind that I have an anthology I’m supposed to be putting together in a month.

So what the actual fuck is my problem? Well…I mean I have a lot of them. But you don’t have time and nobody wants to hear the sad-sack history, but I think this particular existential crisis is coming from a hard round of lessons and the decisions I had to make because of them.

For a long time I was driven by a duel sense of purpose. But lately I’ve felt as though I’m faltering in that. Not because I don’t still love writing, or teaching, or any of the things I’m currently doing, but because I think I’ve put an unbalanced load of it all on my plate.

You see, I used to have martial arts as a balance. Something very physical, extroverted, technical to fill up the other side of my life, so that writing in its quiet, introverted, creative expanse was an equal partner. In this way my brain and body were fed, my need for social interaction balanced with my need for solitude. But now–without it in my life due to unfortunately but necessary circumstances, I’m very wobbly.

I think for too long I defined myself as both. And therein lies the problem. I have been feeling, these past months, half full. Half alive. Half of what I know I can be. I have filled the empty space with more writing obligations but it’s drained the creative parts of me. It’s made me no look forward to butt-in-the-chair time, and I am…edgy.

So the next two weeks are both filled with conferences, and book sales, and networking, and hopefully a reawakening of my creativity will be found sometime between the cocktail hours and the moderating classes. But I worry, that I will only feel more drained afterwards. And what then?

I guess it will be time to find a new balance. A new pursuit. A new purpose, to fill that other half of my soul. Breaks my heart to even consider it. This blog really doesn’t have a purpose itself. Just to let you know, I’m struggling. And as much as I love writing, I recognize that it is one piece of my soul that can’t drive my entire life, nonstop forever.

If you see me at the conference, stop and say hi. I’ll be the one juggling my existential crisis in the back of the room.