Do You Have Goals #2

Hi everybody! I'm a little late getting this up today. In my non writing goals I was approved for the apartment I want yesterday and have five days to move so I've got a lot on my To Do List.


But this is important so even if I don't get to your post today I will by the end of the week :-)


And if you haven't already joined us hop over to Misha Gericke's blog The Five Year Project for details on joining her Do You Have Goals monthly blog hop. (Hint, anyone can join)


Five Year Project: Do You Have Goals?

Primary Goal: Sell an average of seven hard copy books or 35 e-books a day


I did much better on February's goals than I expected they were:



Sell seven hard copies or 35 e-books


And I sold exactly seven. I was actually a little shocked. The number was more or less arbitrary, meant to give myself a concrete way to gage my success. The weirdest part was that they were all hand sales to people who ASKED me if I had any copies and OFFERED to buy them. I didn't have to wave them in anybody's face trying to coax them into making a purchase.


I was a little less successful in my goals for actual writing. Those were:


Finish rough draft of chapters 4-6 of current writing project (aprx 11,000 words) ---I maybe made half that word count. I wish I had made more but I'm not beating myself up about it too much since my computer did crash halfway through the month and I haven't got it fixed yet. The word count I did manage was by hand and at the library so I'm proud of myself for getting it done at all.


Arrange and attend a meeting with my Crit Group --Done


Research the historical rituals of trial by combat --Done. Although I will probably research in a little more detail in March


I surprised myself with my marketing goals as well. They were:


Re-establish consistent social media presence via blogger, twitter, and Facebook --Done. Although I did disappear a little towards the end because of my computer


Attend and perform at 4 poetry open mics --Done. AND I was asked to co-feature in a poetry reading with another local poet. I am quite thrilled by this :-)



All in all, I am satisfied with my work and ready to move on to my next goals.


So I guess it's time to set those


March's Goals: Sell fourteen hard copies or 70 e-books




Actual Writing:
Finish rough draft of chapters 5-7 of current writing project (aprx 11,000 words)
Arrange and attend a meeting with my Crit Group
Research the historical rituals of trial by combat



Marketing:
Maintain consistent social media presence via blogger, twitter, and Facebook
Begin work on A-Z posts for April
Attend and perform at 4 poetry open mics
Co-feature in a local poetry reading



Keeping myself focused:
Daily yoga
Daily entries in gratitude journal
Daily meditation

Cut cheese out of my diet

Weekend Writing Warriors

Happy Valentine's Day my dears. Welcome to this week's Weekend Writing Warriors. If you don't know what that is it is a weekly blog hop in which writers get to post and read 8-10 sentences of each other's work and learn from and encourage each other. It's great fun and very rewarding. Join us and share the love!

My excerpt this week continues from where last week's left off in my dark romance SNOW ROSES. The passage isn't necessarily a Valentine's passage but  SNOW ROSES is a love story.

But also, what love is deeper and more innocent than a young girl's for her father?

"I paced across the intricate weave of my chamber's rug, losing myself in its elaborate swirls, trying to conceive some kind of consistent pattern. My eyes grew raw and tender around the rims. I slept little and ate only when coerced. My already slight form and pale skin became a rattle of bones and a ghostly pallor.

When I did sleep I dreamt that I was drowning. Ice cold water poured into my lungs, filling them until I thought my chest would burst. Other nights –or days; I had long since stopped keeping track of time –thick, thorny vines wound their way around me, squeezing until I bled. I woke, screaming, only to realize that the reality was worse than any nightmare."

After her father's death Snow shuts herself away in her grief cluttered chambers but she is plagued by more than painful memories. She will never be safe unless she forgets how her father really died. At last she escapes into the woods with nothing but a small knife. 

Rose leaves the sleeping village she grew up in for the first time in search of her missing grandmother. Alone in the dark woods she finds ghosts, a rabid wolf, her grandmother's mangled corpse, and Snow. 

Snow and Rose thrive together in the wood but hiding will not keep them safe forever. It will take something stronger than walls to conquer the dangers that haunt them.

Click here to order your copy on amazon

Interview with my Readers: Sadie Marie

Last week I posted an article about why I write, which is, in summary form, for the reader. To honor that and get to know my readers a little more I am starting an interviews with my readers feature here on Taliesin and my very first reader to come visit us is the lovely Miss Sadie Marie

Hello Sadie, welcome to Taliesin. Tell us a little about yourself. 

Sadie: Hello Taryn! Thank you for having me! Well obviously I am Sadie. I am currently trying to pursue myphotography and at the moment I manage an awesome starbucks kiosk in Santee. I love to read, pretty much anything I can get my hands on. Reading, photography, drawing, and Dr. Who take over my life at the moment.

Sounds like you have a pretty amazing life going for you! What kind of books do you read?

Sadie: It's been great so far! Oh anything from teen fiction to reading the amazing views from Neil Degrasse Tyson and Dalai Lama. I am currently reading Girld Online which is an amazing book from an amazing youtuber Zoella Sugg. It's a teen fic about a girl dating a rockstar.

Wow, that is a very diverse selection. What inspires you to read and in so many different genres?

Sadie: I feel like when it comes to books I am so open minded. Each author has a story to tell. From it being fiction to non-fiction they each pour their heart and soul onto pages and it is so beautiful. It's weird but I feel like I connect very deeply with all sorts of books just like music. If that makes sense haha Books are definitely something I hold close to my heart no matter what genre. They help me escape from reality for awhile.

That makes perfect sense and not weird at all. It is nice, isn't it, to have a place where the mind can go and be free. Books give us that haven sometimes. What are some of your very favorite books?

Sadie: Yes! I am glad it made sense! And oh what a tough question! Well the Harry Potter series of course! How to Kill a Rockstar. The Art of Happiness. A Series of Unfortunate Events. Anything by Edgar Allen Poe and Charles Bukowski. Oh and anything Alien related!

Been watching the X-files reboot then I imagine! Did you get a chance to read SNOW ROSES?

Sadie: Yes! Oh my gosh and may I say it has been amazing so far! I'm thinking about binge watching it again on Netflix since they are taking Dr. Who off. And yes I have!

Good! I hope you enjoyed it. Why do you think people read and tell stories?

Sadie: I did! Snow Roses was the first book I read for my 2015 reading challenge and I couldn't put it down . . . unless I was at work of course. I highly recommend it. I have my friend reading it at the moment! Like I said before, I read to escape reality. There is good in the world but when life seems to be a little stressful or I can't just seem to handle it I read and escape. It entertains and to tell a story it opens our minds to many possibilities. Opens up our imagination and makes us a little more free from the daily routine that some of us might feel stuck in.

The mind is indeed full of possibilities. What possibilities do you see in your future?

Sadie: Well the possibility of finishing my story I have been writing. Adventure and exploring new placed with Ruby. Ruby my Camera! I have done so much already this year that has given me the motivation to do things I was so afraid of last year. I see hope, happiness and freedom. More than I ever thought before. I feel like I owe this new feeling to the books I read. They help motivate me to dream bigger and not to settle.

It sounds like books have a very special place in your life Sadie. Where can we find you on the internet to follow along with your next adventures?

Sadie: I'm pretty much on everything haha. Facebook: Sadie Marie, Instagram: Black_mirror_photography, and twitter: coffee_lover19

Thank you so much for joining us today Sadie! It was great to talk to you.

(If you are interested in becoming a featured reader on Taliesin e-mail me at featherzines@yahoo.com. I can't wait to hear from you!)

Sonnet: Motley

For fun, for personal development, and to help spread my writing locally I have been performing at open mics in my area. Here is one of the poems I am presenting this month along with a video of me practicing.

I thought the mask theme was appropriate since Madi Gras is tomorrow :-)

Motley

Whir of colorless gauze begging for dies
Shadow filled laughter drowning out sound
Paint covered eyes spinning round and round
Drink bitter delights to sustain the lies

A popinjay decked out in white and black
Swallow the emptiness. Wash out the hues.
Dance to the silence of a drunken ruse
With feathers and bells dripping down your back

With masks twisted out of charm and wits
Don't let them see that your eyes are their eyes
Don't look at yourself. Don't dare become wise.
Whisk your cloak full of glittering bits

Invisible in gilded finery
Wear the costume you expect to see

What do you guys think? My performance skills have a bit of a way to go but it's going to be fun developing them :-)

Weekend Writing Warriors

Hello! welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors, a lovely weekly blog hop in which we get to read snippets of each other's work. Jump in! The words are deep and inviting, perfect to swim in.

My snippet this week is from my dark romance SNOW ROSES, available now on amazon.

"I grew used to papa's death the way summer dwindles into winter. Silently. Laboriously. Without hope.

I do not know when the funeral was held. I do not know how many foreign dignitaries attended or how the common folk mourned the loss of their ruler. I imagine I was invited --expected to attend in somber black silk, suffering silently by my stepmother's side. I imagine that my handmaidens pleaded with me to allow them to dress me but I never heard them. "

After her father's death Snow shuts herself away in her grief cluttered chambers but she is plagued by more than painful memories. She will never be safe unless she forgets how her father really died. At last she escapes into the woods with nothing but a small knife. 

Rose leaves the sleeping village she grew up in for the first time in search of her missing grandmother. Alone in the dark woods she finds ghosts, a rabid wolf, her grandmother's mangled corpse, and Snow. 

Snow and Rose thrive together in the wood but hiding will not keep them safe forever. It will take something stronger than walls to conquer the dangers that haunt them.

Click here to order your copy on amazon

Insecure Writer's Group: We Are Not the Stars

Still figuring out how to use blogger with all the changes since I've been away but here is the link

And here for co-host Tamara Narayan's blog

Rachael Patterson 

Allison Gammons 

Eva E. Solar

This is my first time here on Insecure Writer's Support Group. If you don't know what Insecure Writer's Support Group is it is a monthly blog hop in which writer's post about their writing lives and encourage each other and learn from each other. It's a great idea and I am so glad I get to be a part of it.

I had a revelation earlier this week about my writing life.

I was talking to a coworker at the deli I work at about my writing and he said something that perplexed me.

He said "Who knows? Maybe I'm talking to a star."

He meant it as encouragement of course but it got me thinking.

Am I trying to be a star?

Everyone has a right to shine. The question isn't so much a matter of humility as objective. I read somewhere once that you can make a fortune from writing but not a living (possibly that is a Ray Bradbury quote but also possibly it isn't) so in order to make a living with my writing I may need to acquire a certain amount of fame. I'm ok with that if it means I can continue to write and not have to work double and triple shifts at minimum wage retail jobs anymore but it is far from the reason why I write.

I write because it is my calling.

I write because I can't imagine dedicating my life to anything else.

I write because I am bigger on the inside and the light that lives within has been screaming to get out since the day I was born.

I write because I dream things everyone else is afraid to believe in.

But I have come to realize that my writing doesn't really have anything to do with me at all.

Another writing quote that I read so long ago that I have no idea who said it is that we write to be like those who gave us the most joy.

All writers began as readers who fell so in love with books that we began pouring them out of our hearts in thick gushes of ink. Because at some point in our lives books saved our lives. They taught us. They inspired us. They kept us company when no one else could. They understood us.

They fed our souls and kept us from dying from the inside out.

As C.S. Lewis would say "we read (them) to know we (were) not alone" (Yay! I actually remember who said that one).

That is the real reason I write. To tell others that they are not alone. To teach them. To inspire them. To understand them.

To feed their souls and keep them from dying from the inside out.

Because every time we talk to another human soul we are talking to a star.

Writing is never about the writer. It's about the reader. Our job is not to make them look at us. It is to help them look at themselves.

They are the true stars of every book and it is our honor to keep them company and --if we are any good at what we do --offer them a twinkling of hope so that they can grow brighter still.

Because we are all so much bigger on the inside.

Return of a Wandering Soul

Hello. Remember me? Probably not. I used to write here at this blog then I disappeared into the web of life, returned promising posts and promptly disappeared again. I am back. I intend to stay for awhile yet, ranting and rambling about books and writing and metaphysics.

I am hoping that I can transform Taliesin to more of a discussion forum than it has been in past. I get a bit tired of talking about me and my experiences with words all the time (not that you won't still find the occasional, indulgent rant). I would like to present a topic, give my twenty cents on the subject, then see what you have to say. I will do my best to respond to all comments but please feel free to continue discussing any subject among yourselves with or without my input.

I would like Taliesin to become a kind of virtual salon (the seventeenth century French kind) where you can come and explore one another's ideas. If I could serve you coffee and rich, sugary delicacies while you chat I would (Consequently you may see the odd recipe on here from here on out. I have become a shameless foodie but I will try to at least keep the food loosely related to literature).

Other things to look out for here on Taliesin:

Monthly give away of Taliesin in its zine form (To enter simply share or tweet any Taliesin blog post during the month. A name will be taken from one of my many hats at the end of the month)

Character interviews where your characters get to come up and tell us all about themselves

Reader interviews in which you get to come up and tell us all about yourself

My poetry (Possibly accompanied by videos of me practicing for poetry open mics. So scary!!)

Book reviews

Recipes

Indulgent rants about literature and who we are as a race, as a society, and as individuals.

And, of course, information about my books Snow Roses, White Hart, and the upcoming sequel to White Hart

I hope to see you all around. It feels good to be back. 

Do You Have Goals #1

Five Year Project: Do You Have Goals?

Primary Goal: Sell an average of seven hard copy books or 35 e-books a day

February's Goals: Sell seven hard copies or 35 e-books


Actual Writing:
Finish rough draft of chapters 4-6 of current writing project (aprx 11,000 words)
Arrange and attend a meeting with my Crit Group
Research the historical rituals of trial by combat

Marketing:
Re-establish consistent social media presence via blogger, twitter, and Facebook
Attend and perform at 4 poetry open mics

Keeping myself focused:
Daily yoga
Daily entries in gratitude journal
Daily meditation

Starting small so I can keep focused and not get overwhelmed. It's so easy to get overly ambitious and burn myself out. I'm focusing on consistency first. Wish me luck!

Soul Cry

Here's a quote for your slump day

You can order a copy of Snow Roses:

Here at Amazon.com

Or here at createspace.com

After her father's death Snow shuts herself away in her grief cluttered chambers but she is plagued by more than painful memories. She will never be safe unless she forgets how her father really died. At last she escapes into the woods with nothing but a small knife. Rose leaves the sleeping village she grew up in for the first time in search of her missing grandmother. Alone in the woods at night she finds ghosts, a rabid wolf, her grandmother's mangled corpse, and Snow. Snow and Rose thrive together in the wood but hiding will not keep them safe forever. It will take something stronger than walls to conquer the dangers that haunt them.

Keep running toward the things that make you feel alive my friends

Embers in the Dark Tower

For, what with my whole world-wide wandering,
What with my search drawn out thro’ years, my hope 20
Dwindled into a ghost not fit to cope
With that obstreperous joy success would bring,—
I hardly tried now to rebuke the spring
My heart made, finding failure in its scope.


---From Robert Browning's Childe Roland To the Dark Tower Came


I was going through some of the poetry I studied and wrote about in college (Because really, what else does one do with one's time?) and stumbled across Rober Browning's Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came.

It resonated with me in a very strong way.

In the poem Childe Roland is on dedicated journey to a dark tower. The reasons for the journey are unclear. The results of the journey are not discussed. The poem is about the journey alone and how terrible and difficult it is.

Roland is tempted to turn aside by those who tell him the journey is impossible but he continues toward the tower, determined to finish what he started.

He travels through a barren wasteland void of hope and greenery. He grapples with the uselessness of the land and the uselessness of the journey itself. He questions his own intentions,

Finally, unable to endure the darkness that surrounds him he "shuts (his) eyes and turns them on (his) heart”.  Roland recalls his friends who began as noble, steadfast men but were ultimately disgraced and killed. At first these memories wash away the hope he had meant to gain but on further reflection his resolve to continue is strengthened. “Better this present” he decides “than a past like that:” He plunges through the dark land with a new vigor.

Roland  fords through a river crowded with monsters he can not see. He trecks through the remains of a battlefield, wondering what deep darkness could have caused such destruction.

Roland reaches the dark tower at last.

 When, in the very nick
of giving up, one time more, came a click
as when the trap shuts –you're inside the den!

Despite the fact that he has been striving for the tower all his life he compares the discovery to being caught.

I have begun to feel that my journey as a writer has become a bit like Roland's journey.

And I am wondering if maybe it is time to turn aside.

I work for minimum wage at a job that wants all my availability but won't give me any hours.

I live in a one bedroom apartment with my grown up brother and sister, my brother's cat, and sister's elderly, accident prone dog. Our neighborhood is not safe to walk in after dark.

This month I have literally been living off of ramen and rice and beans and oatmeal and the free meals I get at work.

I have spent all my extra money on trying to fix my car but it still barely runs and stalls on me on the freeway all the time. It could go out on me completely any day.

I know there are people who have it worst than me because at least I live with people who love me and at least I have a place to live and at least I have a job and at least I have a car. I have a computer to write on and a shelf full of books to read. I am an amazing cook so my rice and beans actually taste quite good and it doesn't cost anything to go for a nice long walk or have a great conversation with a friend.

I just can't help but wonder sometimes. I am smart. I had great grades throughout college. If I had studied accounting or business or something else more profitable than music and writing and philosophy, would I be struggling right now? Or would I have a comfortable, reliable job in an office somewhere and be able to afford a nice car, a place of my own, and the occasional theater ticket?

Would the exchange be worth it? I would have more time to write if I spent less time worrying about bills and cleaning up after other people and their pets.

But that wasn't the choice I made. I studied the things I most wanted to learn about because I believe that philosophy and music and storytelling are what make the world worth living in. Not nice cars and fancy food.

Ideas give us purpose and identity.

Music makes us feel alive --gives us permission to feel in a culture that so often expects us to hold back our emotions in the name of practicality.

And storytelling . . . stories give us an idea of how life could be. It shows us the changes we could make if we only tried. It helps us see each other for what we really are --individuals full of life and potential, not machines whose only value is in our ability to get things done and stay out of other people's way.

So I chased what made me feel alive instead of what told me I had to remain asleep. I chose to awaken.

And now I am heading toward the dark tower with no end in sight, screaming my Truths at a world that doesn't want to listen to them. Trying to stay alive. Holding on to my last embers of hope.

But even an ember can light a fire.