Writing Update: On Submission

So, like, being on submission kind of sucks.

But it's also exciting.

It's a strange dichotomy.

Recent insta post: check it out!

Here's what they don't tell you: "Once you've found a literary agent, you must then submit your manuscript to a publishing house. You may be an overnight success, or you may never succeed at all."

It's a bit bonkers.

I've been on submission for two years now (it could be more or less, but it's been so long, I clearly can't remember the exact time frame).

In this time, I've drafted, developed, and completed an entirely new manuscript (more on this to come!). My agent is still very confident in the book I have on submission, and I feel he will work tirelessly to get it into the hands of the world. But as the clock only continues to turn, I truly believe that the current book I have on submission is hard to sell because it's not a high-concept commercial YA (side note: is anyone else struggling with this, too?).

Long story short: the world can't handle it, y'all.

This is such a strange journey, too, because at any given moment, my dream could be made into reality, and in that same moment, it could be turned into dust (hard stuff to swallow--literally).

Anyway, that's the official, official, update on where I am in this lovely writing process.

Hopefully (all fingers and toes crossed), I'll have another book on submission soon!

Again, more to come on this new manuscript. But also, is anyone else struggling with being on submission to publishing houses, or being on submission with literary agents?
Share below!

Still have more questions? Leave a comment below.
Like these posts? Share them in your writing community; it helps me know that I should make more.

Till next time, blog world.

The Year of Beauty and Chaos

 Somewhere between beauty and chaos there is existence. 

The seasons change rapidly, the sun runs to meet the moon, and the stars chase the hills as the earth rotates.

In the midst of that, there's me
Little ol' me.
The rambunctious me, the sad me, the overly-excited me, the constantly changing me.

There's the me that wants to write until the flowers crumble and the snow comes, and then there's that side of me that can't do anything but watch a Netflix series I've seen three times.

There's the me that wants to write this blog, and then there's the me that wants to be the best dancer in the world.

There's the me that sings in the bathroom with an acoustic to my chest, and there's the me that wants to crawl into my bed and sleep all day.

There are so many sides to me, so many different talents, so many dreams--and somehow all of that has lead me back here, to the start of my writing phenomenon, to the beginning of my beginning, to my writing daze.

Here, I welcome you all back into my life as I try, again, to enter the writing world.
I will warn you, writing friends, it is tough.
I've sent more queries out, I've tackled a synopsis, and I've even checked out more writing venues.
I have failed and failed and failed in hopes to help writers--like us--who won't give up.

I hope that you all follow me on this new journey.

If any of you are interested in my recent novel (I'll post a query soon), I've posted a few chapters on Wattpad.
If any of you are interested in being a beta/critique reader contact me through email or in a comment below.

To all of you going through seasons of writing, I'm pouring my luck out to you.

Until next time, writing friends.

A Maddening Sabbatical

Dear Writing Friends:

Is it too soon to say how much I love all of you?

Ha, but seriously.

Even with my absence of blogposts, I've felt a sincere adoration from those of you who have taken time to comment on a post with a question, or to compliment my writing--or even those of you who send emails! (I love emails!)

I've always been honest with all of you, and the truth is that I've mistakenly placed myself on a sabbatical (is that even a thing for writers?)

School is seriously hectic. Graduation is etching so close, and with life pressing in on every side, I can't find enough time to write a decent post.

My book, Rubatosis, is complete and is going through many rough drafts and edits by my dear friends, including the awesome Kayla Dean who I met on here, and who is also an amazing writer and literary friend--check out her blog! (And also, shout out to you for being so astounding!)

Y'all, I am ridiculously stoked about Rubatosis, and I can't wait to share more with you. I will say, however, the query editing process is CRAZY. I've been having to go through old blog posts I've written about queries--I'm basically relearning how to write a query, and it's maddening. (Note to self: never stop writing/reading queries.)

I'm also excited about the many new agents I've come across, and you can bet I'll be writing about them on here.

Until then, hold on tight, accept my awkward GIF hug, and know that my sabbatical will end soon!

Writing with Depression and Anxiety

I don't know if I've ever told the blog this, but I have anxiety and depression. 

Fact: I've never been diagnosed by a doctor. Fact: I know myself well enough to describe how I feel. 

Medically, Anxiety is described as a nervous disorder characterized by a state of excessive uneasiness and apprehension, typically with compulsive behavior. (Trust me, I've had my fair share of compulsive regrets.)

And Depression is described as a mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and hopelessness as well as a lost in interest. 

Together, the two of these can create an explosion of chaos within each other. It's like mixing two great colors together but constantly getting brown. It's somewhat frustrating. 

The thing about the two of these mental illnesses within myself is that sometimes I feel more anxiety than I feel depression, and sometimes I can't pinpoint why I feel the way I do--like why I'm happy now, but how I can be stuck in a mood two days from now.

Though I've sought help for these problems, I've found that writing is a saving grace. I wish I could thoroughly explain how writing makes me feel--the endorphins that are released--but I can't. I wish I could sit inside of your chest, so I could simply show you because I know it'd be easier that way.

But writing literally opens me up in a way that's terrifyingly beautiful--like crazy beautiful. I mean, have you ever written while in a mood? You get some psychotic scenarios, but you also get really extravagant ones, and you wonder how the hell that happened, but then you end up with an entire chapter based off one sentence.

It's completely magical.

This post isn't particularly special, but I felt the need to share my experience on writing with depression and anxiety, and how having a mental illness doesn't have to hinder you or your dreams.

Honestly, I bet you could reach the stars if you wanted to.

Here's a clip of writing from my latest manuscript, Rubatosis. Every aspect of this book is covered with my inner problems, and I'm okay with that. Everyone should be.

"She watched the sun in the distance, fading west, and she took note of how it touched every surface. Nothing was left behind, not even her eyes. It was all these small things, and she wanted to cry. Was it that bad, she thought. Was it so, so very bad that she couldn’t see? Maybe this place really did hold the key that drove people mad, and all it took was a turn and one small thing. The past moments mimicked a kaleidoscope in her head, and what she realized was that she wanted to spend this time with Noah, and she set off to find him.
Ila walked to his shack, still pressing her arms against her abdomen, and she didn’t knock when she entered the dimly lit room. Noah acknowledged her presence. He was seated on a rocking chair in the corner with his guitar in hand. He played a gentle melody, and the tune echoed against the walls and vibrated in her ears. The chord progression he chose mimicked the wings of a bird in flight, and he picked the strings intricately before he began to sing. Then he closed his eyes as the words of the song took him away to a place of serenity and heartache.
Ila sat on the ground before him, legs crossed, and she studied the shadows in his face. His eyelashes laced together; his uneven lips opening and parting to the lyrics, and his facial expressions slightly changing with the chords. She could tell that his passion for music was fueled by the brokenness inside of him, and it was one of the best things she’d ever witnessed. In this moment, he was more of the moon than he’d ever been, shining so brightly in this darkness they’d created. She had a hard time fathoming how he existed in her world. Up to this point, she had heard him sing multiple songs, but she still hadn’t grown tired of it. She was obsessed with his voice and the power behind it.
Noah rocked in his chair, moving to the tempo, and the song went on for minutes. They didn’t speak. He didn’t open his eyes, and he was relieved that he didn’t have to answer her question to where he had been the last few days. After all, there was no such a thing as a good lie."

Till next time.

Friday Blues and A Mix of Tea

Not exactly sure why I titled this "Friday Blues".

Today is anything but sad. ( . . . For the most part. We won't get into my irrational highs and lows. I'll save that for the other blog.)

It's been one hell of a month, though, and I can't express how enthused I am to be sitting on my couch, computer on my lap, watching black and white television, and WRITING!

Gee, it's been so long, and no one had the nerve to say, "Hey, if you don't write for a month, you'll lose your soul!" So imagine the tugging on my heart from the lack of words, and the separation of all-things-light inside of me.

Don't say I didn't tell you so!

Okay, but beside all that, the distance from my laptop has actually been a great thing--believe it or not.

I've actually come up with a new series for ya'll! (No worries, I'll still be continuing the series on How Writers Made it Big.)

I think you all will take liking to this one: It's a series on how to get published in the twenty-first century--something I wish I could find on the web.

How are you going to write this, considering you're not published, you might ask?

Simple: I read!

Okay, so there's this awesome book, written by a literary agent, who gives all these tips on how to get published. Along with that, I'll give you my personal experience on each tip and what I think about it. (Trust me, I've read this book twice.) It's quite interesting, and it held my attention, so I trust it will hold yours also.

That's it for today's post. I will now enjoy my Green/Orange tea and work on my manuscript for this new book.

Till next time Blog World,

Throwing The Manuscript Away

Not literally. I didn't have it printed yet.
But virtually, yes . . . yes I did.

Below, I've inserted a clear visual of what sort of happened . . . .

Now, allow me to let you in on a few things that led to the fall...

1.) That one book I told ya'll I was working on (you know the one that was going to be a series?) I probably haven't worked on that since April.

2.)  I managed to get two new jobs.

3.) I fell in love . . . ha, just kidding.

4.) I've been watching a lot of TV shows on Netflix. (Supernatural, Scandal...)

5.) And also, I have two nephews. That's enough to make me quit just about anything.

I'd like to believe that it was a mixture of these things that made me realize that what I was writing wasn't appealing to me.

In fact, I kept asking myself, "What if no one likes this? Who am I trying to portray...and really, Britney, do you think that's a good idea?"

I know I can be hard on myself--I am truly my own worst enemy--but if I'm psyched about a book idea, I take it and run until it's finished.

So this summer when I began a new manuscript for a different story, I was pumped . . . at first. It happened slowly, and then all at once, like a rush of water. Then I wasn't excited about it anymore.

I couldn't write.

Naturally, I thought it was writer's block. But after a few months of letting it sit, I quickly realized that it wasn't that. This manuscript was more like a diary, so it was easier to write. I wrote about 30,000 words total--20,000 shy from a novella.

I had a game plan--I wanted to get it finished--but, I wasn't in love with it.

There was no spark.

The characters made me smile, but the story-line was saddening.

So I deleted it. Crazy, right?

Okay, okay. I didn't actually "delete" the story, I still have the rough outline. But, from that outline, I found a story within a story, still allowing me to use the characters I love.

Basically, what I'm getting at here is that there are benefits from starting over. Obviously, starting over from scratch is a bit drastic, but if it works, it works--and it worked for me.

Maybe you could benefit from deleting your manuscript, too? As Hemingway once said, "The first draft of anything is...." fill in the blank.

(Hint: a four letter word that rhymes with kick...)

I hope all is well.

Ha, till next time blog world!

Over and out.

A Heartfelt Rejection

It twas bittersweet . . .

Rejections, they suck, but I'm at the point in my life where a rejection is just a rejection. Each one will get me one step closer to my dream. 

Anyway, as you all know, I've been querying. Last Sunday (six days ago,) I queried this agency. (I'll most likely do a review on this agent sometime soon. It was a fast reply!)

The agent that I queried was the founder of that agency, and she is such an amazing woman. 

Within five days, I received a response, and it was unlike any rejection I'd ever received. I'd honestly, for a second, thought it was good news! When I realized that she was passing on my manuscript, I wasn't even upset. She had personalized my rejection letter, and that was enough to keep me on cloud nine for the rest of the evening. 

Here's what she said:

Dear Britney, 

Thanks so much for being in touch. I'm flattered that you thought of me for this, but it just didn't strike a chord. I do admire the quality of the writing and the execution and I'm sorry it wasn't a fit for me.

Here's what I read:


 I admire the quality of the writing and the execution.


How could I be upset by that? The fast reply, the words. My heart is completely filled right now. An agent--an amazing agent that I highly respect--liked my writing. She liked it, and that was enough for me.

*heartfelt sigh, and happy tears. Refer to the gif as needed.


That's all, folks.

Till next time blog world.