Jaye Wells

Quick update:

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, I’m attending the Romantic Times Convention in Chicago this week. If you live in the area, be sure and check out the Giant Book Fait on Saturday, which is open to the public and features hundreds of authors who will be available to delight and amaze you.

Also, if you’re attending the convention, I’m bringing a special bit of swag this year. I had these awesome I HEART GIGUHL pins made. I’m bringing a limited supply, so I’m handing them out on a first come first served basis. If you don’t find me at one of my panels (listed below) you will probably be able to track me down in the bar.

Romantic Times Event Schedule

Thursday, April 12:

10-11 AM

URBAN FANTASY: TRENDS — WHAT’S HOT, WHAT’S NOT & WHAT’S NEXT IN UF PANELISTS: Kelley Armstrong, Jennifer Estep, Melissa Marr, Nicole Peeler, Jaye Wells MODERATOR: Lucienne Diver (The Knight Agency)

Location: Florence

Friday, April 13

1:30-2:30 PM

SEVEN MINUTES IN URBAN FANTASY HEAVEN HOSTS: Richelle Mead, Suzanne McLeod, Kristin Painter, Nicole Peeler, Jeanne Stein, Jaye Wells

Location: International 5

Saturday, April 14

10:45 AM – 2 PM

GIANT BOOK FAIR (open to the public!)

Location: Entry Level, Grand Ballroom

You can download a copy of the Convention schedule by clicking here, and that also contains instructions for those of you who want to visit for the free book fair.

Note: I’m leaving tomorrow for the ROmantic TImes Convention in Chicago, so I’m posting Craft Thursday early. Next week, we’ll return to our regular posting schedule.

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A couple of weeks ago, I was having a conversation over coffee with a writer friend. I’d been talking about this dress I saw and loved, but admitted I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. She looked me in the eye and said, “You’ve got to own that shit.”

Since that conversation, her words have been loitering in my mind. I’ve been wondering if I’m doing enough owning of the shit in general. Sometimes I avoid making decisions about my career because it’s scary to take control. Sometimes I let the things I don’t control overwhelm me and use them as an excuse not to see after the things I do and should control.

I’m not trying to give you the impression that I am paralyzed. Far from it. I am generally a pretty ambitious, outspoken chick. But like everyone I have moments of insecurity and doubt.

I used to have these moments a lot when I was trying to find out if I had the chops to be a published author. Somehow, I managed to overcome those doubts and keep at it until someone said yes. I’m not sure why it happened for me and not someone else, but I think owning my role in the process was a big part of it.

“I’d write a novel if I had the time.”

“I should write today but I have to take the kids to soccer practice.”

“I could write on my day off, but I’m tired.”

Do any of these sound familiar? If so, you’ve got yourself an ownership problem.

The hard truth: No one is going to knock on your door and hand you a book contract. No one is going to spot you in the mall and say, “Hey! You look like you might be an amazing writer. I’m going to write you this check for a million dollars in case you ever get around to writing that book.”

NO ONE OWES YOU A CAREER.

You own how much effort you put into writing. You own how much you seek out critique. You own how often you submit. You own that shit, friend.

It’s scary to admit that. Terrifying to accept that you might declare your desire and never achieve it and that it might be your own fault if you don’t. Ownership means you don’t blame anyone else if you don’t get there. Ownership says, I might fail, I might succeed, but, damn it,  I’m going to do everything in my power to TRY.

So what exactly does owning it look like?

A. Own that writing is a priority. Even if you have to give up watching The Voice or My Big Fat American Gypsy Wedding. Even if it means getting up an hour early or going to bed an hour late or writing during lunch or your kids’s soccer practice. The minute you make it a priority, you will find time you didn’t even know you were wasting.

B. Own that you are a novice, and that the only way to improve is to practice your craft.

C. Own that seeking out critique is one of the most effective ways to improve your skills. Only showing work to people guaranteed to say nice things is a form of avoidance.

D. Own that rejections are not personal. It only takes one yes. Are you going to give up before you get it?

E. Own that the struggle of aspiring to be an author is part of the training for being a professional. You think a few form rejections are hard? How in the hell are you going to handle hundreds of complete strangers giving your work one star online? Or having a person call you out in public because they feel betrayed by a decision you made for one of their favorite characters? Or having your integrity challenged on a blog because someone took exception to something in one of your stories? Don’t rush through the training. You’ll be so much more prepared if you allow your scaly, defensive skin to grow first.

F. Own that you chose this path. No one foisted this dream on you. You might fail, you might succeed. But guaranteed you will learn things about yourself on this quest, and that, my friends, is the true treasure.

G. Own that you get to define success. I’ve said before that if being rich and famous is the definition of success, 95% of all authors are complete failures. Don’t doom yourself to fail. Redefine success for yourself. Did you write today? Success! Are you improving with each story you write? Success!

How about you guys? How do you own it?

Quick post today.

I recently read a post by the fabulous Jordan Dane about how she puts a book together. Her process was fairly similar to mine and I posted a link to it on twitter. Jordan, in turn, asked me to post a comment about how I do it. So I did. Follow the link to read her process and a down and dirty version of my own process.

Instead of calling myself a plotter or a pantser (seat of the pants writer), I call myself a kaleidoscoper. I’m currently working on a workshop presentation on this process so I won’t rehash it all here. So go read that post. If you have any questions or would like more details, let me know in comments and I’ll get into more detail. Here’s the link to Jordan’s post and my comment.

Happy Monday! Some of you may know that I’ve been attending a citizen’s police academy in my city for the last few weeks. The program is very cool because each week we get to meet officers from every department and learn about the inner workings. Surprisingly, I am the only writer in the class. Everyone else in the class of about fifty are average people who want to get more involved in the community and maybe were just curious about police work. It’s been so fun and we still have several weeks left.

As you can imagine, I’m learning lots of awesome things that I will eventually use in novels. But I’m also learning stuff about myself. For example, I never knew I was an adrenaline junky. Until Saturday.

Because Saturday was DRIVE DAY. That’s right, friends, I spent my Saturday morning driving cops cars at high speeds through a tough course. We each got three qualifying runs through the course, hoping to beat the time of 52 seconds.

Anyway, I thought I’d share the video of my third run through the course with you. Thanks to Mr. Jaye for filming it.

I love writing urban fantasy. There aren’t many rules. Because it’s a multigenre, there are no prescribed formulas. Conventions, sure. But UF is as likely to flaunt conventions as follow them. Also, because the monsters we write about are powerful metaphors, there are many opportunities for twisting expectations and skewing perspectives. All this allows an author incredible latitude when it comes to using humor, satire and parody.

“That’s the great test, if you’re going to be a great comic writer, not a humorist, you’ve got to take it into the throat of grief. Can you make laughter and seriousness so close that they are the same thing? There’s nothing more wonderful than when the comedy’s got horror in it, got blood in it. And the seriousness is at all times aware of its own preposterousness. What’s it for, this seriousness? Everything is loss, is nothing, in the end.” -Howard Jacobson

This quote hangs over my computer monitor. Not because I aspire to be a “great comic writer” but because I aspire to be an honest writer. One who shares the truth as I know it. And the truth is messy. I might write books about vampires and demons, but they’re really stories about people. Or, perhaps more succinctly, they’re about broken people.

We’re all broken, right? Because perfection doesn’t exist. Because we don’t live in a world of perpetual abundance. Because we’re humans and not the gods we’ve created. We’re broken and we’re ridiculous and we’ve all got an expiration date. And in these truths are the seeds of all good humor.

Humor allows us to watch tragedy through a Plexiglas shield and provide color commentary without feeling threatened. It dilutes horrors and deflects tears. But to be true, humor must also be relentless. Fear has no place here. You can’t worry that your mom might read your work and be ashamed. You can’t worry that the PTA might read it and ban you from the bake sale. You can’t worry that nice girls don’t talk about those things. That little twinge in your gut? It’s there to tell you to keep going.

Telling stories isn’t always comfortable. While we’re writing about monsters, we’re really writing about ourselves. The things you fear, the things that make you angry, the things you love–ultimately they’re all fodder for comedy. Because life is ridiculous and sad and wonderful. And because if we didn’t laugh, we’d cry. Or worse, we wouldn’t care at all.