ReBlog: My Overnight Sucess

I really have to apologize the fails, guys. Neither of us has been that active and for that I'm sorry. And this one isn't really much of a post either, it's more just me copy and pasting an amazing post from Rick Riordan. He really is a pretty awesome writer. Great story concepts, good characters, love the wit and humor, and the end of the last book? SO BRAVE. Such a brave brave man. I don't think I'd have the guts to pull that ending.

Here's the link so you can check it out yourself:

http://rickriordan.blogspot.com/2012/10/my-overnight-success-reposted.html

And here's the post:

Sometimes I like to go back in time and re-read my blog posts from many years ago. This one, originally published in 2007, made me feel especially grateful. Back then, the Percy Jackson series wasn't even finished yet. The Titan's Curse had just come out. I was starting to feel like an actual bestselling author, but I had no idea what was in store for the future. Now, my books are exponentially more successful, and I'm exponentially more thankful for the good fortune I've had. But this blog post still resonates. Getting to where I am was an incredible amount of work, and I still take nothing for granted. I *still* worry that no one will show up when I do an event. I'm re-posting this because it might provide some perspective, and maybe some hope, for other struggling writers out there. Believe it or not, I've been where you are, and I know how it feels!

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 22, 2007

MY OVERNIGHT SUCCESS

At a recent event, someone asked me, “How does it feel to be an overnight success?”

The question took me aback. I had no idea how to answer, but I was struck by how drastically perception can differ from reality.

I’ve read about rock musicians who play free gigs for years in dingy bars – paying their dues -- before they get the one big break that attracts national attention. Suddenly, the artist is an ‘overnight success.’ No one has heard of him before, so even though he has been toiling for years, people just assume he appeared out of nowhere, a fully-formed rock star, like Athena springing from the head of Zeus.

If a tree falls in the woods and no one hears . . . well, the tree doesn’t exist until we notice it. Thinking about my own ‘overnight success,’ I remembered one of the first book signings I ever did, ten years ago, when Big Red Tequila first came out. I was invited to Waldenbooks in a shopping mall in Concord, California. They set up a table at the front of the store. They allotted two hours. I sat there in my coat and tie and watched people pass by, steering clear of me like I was an insurance salesman. I gave directions to Sears. I explained several times that I wasn’t an employee at the bookstore and I didn’t know where the self-help section was. I signed a napkin for a couple of teenaged boys who thought the title “Big Red Tequila” sounded slightly naughty because it had to do with alcohol. I sold no books.

I remember the first book discussion group I did in Oakland. Two people showed up. And after that, a seemingly endless string of events for my mystery series – lots of empty chairs, apologetic booksellers, forced smiles. “Oh, it doesn’t matter if no one shows up!” I’d tell myself over and over. “It’s the signed stock and the publicity that counts!” Well . . . maybe. But I still felt like I was trying to fill a reservoir with an eye-dropper.

Most writers have stories like this. We dread the room full of empty chairs. I still have a deeply ingrained fear that no one will show up whenever I do an event. I am constantly amazed when I walk into a bookstore and there are actually people waiting for me.

When the Lightning Thief first came out, two years ago, I was a basket case. I had a feeling in my gut that this book was my big chance. And I also had a feeling that the big chance was slipping away. My family and I went out to the Bay Area to visit our old stomping ground, and I kept looking for signs that the Lightning Thief was making a big splash, getting some publicity, getting displayed prominently. No such luck. We stopped by several bookstores to sign stock. There was no stock. I did an event at one store (unfortunately, the day after the latest Harry Potter release) and the bleary-eyed bookseller’s only comment about Lightning Thief was, “Oh, it hasn’t gotten much coverage, has it?” One family showed up to hear me talk about my book. Two parents. One kid. I went back to the hotel room and curled into fetal position, thinking, “Well, that’s it. Nobody likes Percy Jackson.” My wife still teases me about that trip. She says, “If I could only go back in time and show you what was going to happen.” Still, at the time, I felt hopeless. It was another six months of constant touring and school visits before the Lightning Thief started gaining any traction at all. The Bluebonnet list from the Texas Library Association was the series’ first big break. Then it began showing up on other state lists, and word started getting around. Even after that, things were slow. I remember when Sea of Monsters came out, a year later, I was still having anxious conversations with my editor and agent, wondering what I could do to improve sales. Were we missing something? Was I wrong to think the series would connect with kids? It took almost two years before I really felt like things were turning around.

What made the difference? It’s hard to say, but it was a combination of factors. Most importantly, word-of-mouth. The series grew from the ground up, with one kid recommending the book to his or her friends. Booksellers and teachers and librarians started talking. I toured and did school visits relentlessly. The Sea of Monsters got on the Scholastic Book Club video, which was no small thing. The state reading lists started kicking in. And suddenly, just before the Titan’s Curse was released, the series seemed to reach critical mass and sales exploded.

But boy, it was a long time coming. I felt like I was clawing my way up a pit, tooth and nail. Am I complaining? Of course not. I’m just marveling at how uncertain I felt for so long. Nothing about the series’ success seemed inevitable. Even after I got the ‘ultimate break’ of being published for the first time, it was another eight years of writing while teaching full-time before I could go full-time as a writer, and two years more before I really felt like I was going to succeed. And still, who knows what will happen six months or a year from now? There are no guarantees.

As with any high-profile job, writing is judged by the exceptions in the field, not the average. When the general public hears the word ‘author,’ they think J.K. Rowling, Stephen King, James Patterson. They hear ‘basketball player,’ they think of Michael Jordan, Shaquille O’Neal, Tim Duncan. It’s an easy jump to think that all authors are like J.K. Rowling, and every basketball player is Michael Jordan. In fact, 99% of authors have never and will never experience anything like the success of the top 1%. Most writers, even if they manage to get published, never quit their day jobs. Most will never get on the bestseller list nor have their books made into a movie, just as most basketball players will never play in the NBA, and even those lucky few who do will never make the money of a superstar. Judging other books by the Harry Potter series is sort of like saying, “Well, that guy won the Powerball lottery, therefore everyone who plays should win the Powerball lottery.” That doesn’t mean we can’t dream. If a kid wants to aim at being a pro ball player, that’s awesome. If a writer wants to become the next ______ (fill-in-the-blank author), that’s fantastic, but it’s good to approach that ambition with your eyes open. It will most likely be a long, hard road with no guarantee that success will come. Exceptions are rare, which is why they get so much attention. For every well-known author you can think of, there are a thousand more struggling in the purgatory known as the “midlist,” and tens of thousands who are still trying to get published. And even those well-known authors probably struggled a lot longer and harder than you realize to get where they are.

I’m not saying this to gripe, or gloat, or whine. I’m just trying to provide some context, so when I tell you how grateful I am for the success of the books, and how lucky I feel, you’ll understand where I’m coming from. People ask me what I think about getting so much attention, and how it’s changed my life. It really hasn’t. I’m the same guy who sat in Waldenbooks for two hours, giving directions and smiling vacantly at a stream of shoppers who were trying to ignore me. I’m the same guy who stared at countless rooms full of empty chairs in countless bookstores for ten years. I am still amazed every time I get a crowd at an event. I take nothing for granted.

But you can’t really explain something like that in the middle of an event. It’s too hard to put into words without people thinking that I’m bragging or complaining. So the next time someone asks me, “How does it feel to be an overnight success?” I plan on smiling politely and saying, “It feels great.” 

Worth of 1000 Words

Terribly sorry for not posting anything recently. I blame school and my dear “sister” for finally pushing me over the edge of obsession with her characters.

But no longer! For here is another blog post for you all to enjoy!

Warning: This post contains a lot of irrational complaining

I just have to know, does anyone else get seriously and completely ticked off when people say “A Picture’s Worth a Thousand Words”? Every single time that the grandma in Princess Diaries yells at Mia about how she has two pictures which equals 2000 words, I just get so mad!

That’s actually probably just me though, huh?

For some reason I always and still do take that personally, as if the people are purposefully trying to insult the value of words. I don’t know, it’s just one of those weird personal things that always makes me so mad. The reason for this: we were talking about it in Bio and it just got my blood boiling when a single phrase popped into my head for ya’ll to hear me babble about.

You ready?

I don’t think you are.

You’re going to cave in from the sheer awesomeness of this line.

Sure you’re ready?

Positive?

You asked for it!

A picture’s worth a thousand words. Your job is to paint one in less.

Bask in its sheer awesome amazingness.

Uh huh. You know you want to.

… so yeah. I guess this is mostly about expressing my frustration with people who say THAT phrase because I for some reason take it as a persona insult against one of my favorite things, writing. And the problem is that in the world’s view they’re right! Sure the pen’s mightier than the sword, but the picture’s 1000 times more worthy than the word.

And I’ll admit that in a number of situations, pictures are more useful than words. For example, explaining oxidative-reduction-chemiosmosis-phosphorylation. The picture helped a lot in that situation. But we have to realize that words can do just the same thing sometimes, and can do it better too.

So here’s the rub, returning to the earlier statement. “Your job is to paint [a picture] in less [than 1000 words].”

What does this mean children?

It means description.

Good description, not lengthy description. Let’s not lie to ourselves here, the world of books and literature doesn’t usually run on the principle of “longer the better”. In fact it’s usually more along the lines of “less is more”.

Trust me. I know what you’re thinking.

I don’t like description much either.

It’s boring. The characters are fun, the dialogue is interesting and witty (most of the time), and you just want to get on with the plot already. Trust me. I KNOW. It’s one of the problems I need to work on, I think. It’s something a lot of people need to work on.

So let’s try to write something together. I’ll “paint a picture” in less than 1000 words and post it. Then you rate it. If anyone wants to send in their own “pictures”, I would be more than happy to post them so they can be rated at the same time.

(I was told I need to be more interactive with you guys, so I’m trying it out. Is it working?)

The Importance of Writing Buddies

I would like to address a topic that is very near and dear to my heart.

Writing Buddies.

Or Buddy, in my case, but that’s not a guideline or anything.

Margaret’s written a post about this topic before (on a different blog) and that will be added in its entirety at the end as well as heavily quoted.

Guys I am going to say one thing that is the main focus and goal of this post:

If you don’t have a writing buddy, you need one.

Writers are by nature rather solitary people. We usually like hanging out with a particular small group of people we’re very familiar with and sticking with them for long periods of time. Or just not really associating with humans, which I wouldn’t suggest because looking from a completely professional view it’s best to associate with the subjects you’re going to be writing about. It’s important to study people.

But I Don’t Need/Want a Writer Buddy

I understand if you don’t want to go out and try to find a writing buddy (from here on out to be called WB). It could get awkward and you can’t just walk up to someone and say “Hi! Do you like to write stories and would be okay with listening to me ramble about mine and my ideas for hours on end?”.

But you will need them. I quote my ABSOLUTELY AMAZING WB:

“Part of the reason writer’s write is that we want to share our imaginary worlds with the ‘real’ world.

Or at least, that’s part of the reason I write.

And when sitting all the lonesome, staring balefully at your computer, more often than not – you lose sight of that.”

I really wish it weren't true. And maybe it won’t be for you. Maybe that’s not why you want to write or maybe that’s not where you have a problem. But for the majority of us, after working 50 hours on a project over a three week period, you start to lose sight of where it’s going, why you’re writing it, why you want to write it, what the purpose is…

If you have a WB and they’re good, they will be able to encourage you, keep you going. But if that’s not your problem they should also be there to listen to you talk about ideas. I consider myself a pretty good WB. I am not joking when I say I've probably listened to WELL over 100 hours of Margaret going on and on and on and on and on about her characters, her world, her plot…

Well over 100. If not well over 200. If not 300.

Let me clear the air right here and now. Probably the part that actually makes me a good WB is that I don’t mind. I really don’t. I love hearing about her characters and her concepts. It’s gotten to the point where I know her characters almost as well as she does. I DREAM about her characters for crying out loud. Today in PE I ran the mile imagining that one of them was chasing behind me with a sword after I stole her coffee (word of advice: don't steal her coffe). I could almost literally write her next book for her (though I don’t think she’d want me to- I might end up pairing her two main characters together XP)

I love hearing about her story and writing.

Once again, I would like to repeat that, more for her than for you guys.

I ENJOY HEARING ABOUT THEM. SO STOP APOLOGIZING. IF I WAS REALLY ANNOYED, I WOULD TELL YOU OR CHANGE THE SUBJECT.

She never stops apologizing. To the point where she should apologize for apologizing so much.

Any who…

You have to find someone who can take sitting down and listening to you ramble on, because trust me, you need to ramble. You need someone to help fill in the plot holes over the dead bodies. You need someone to help you figure out “How the @#^&*& is Character A supposed to get from here to there if she lost her wings?”

What Do I Need to Look For in a WB?

Good question.

It really just depends on you. They have to be someone you can work with on a daily basis. I’m not saying you have to work with them on a daily basis, but it has to be someone you could. My suggestion is to find someone you could easily be a friend with.

My WB is my best friend.  I’m hers. (I think…)

To the point where we’re claiming to be sisters on this blog.

I’m not saying you have to be best friends with your WB. We were just very fortunate that it worked out that way. But you should 100% be friends.

I can’t tell you what you like in a friend. That’s something you should know for yourself (I hope you do… If you don’t that kinda means you have no friends…). If they’re not a person you can get along with, you probably shouldn’t be working with them.

They should be able to listen (as mentioned before) and as the term WRITING buddy implies, they should be just as if not more motivated towards writing and becoming an author as you are. You want them there to push you forward. You want them to be able to help you at as if they were coming at the problem their own manuscripts. You should pass writing back and forth, lean on each other.

And you have to, I repeat HAVE TO be able to TRUST them. That’s not going to come quickly and you’re probably going to have to spend a few months getting to that point. Margaret and I have been friends for three years now. We trust each other a lot.

You do not want someone who you can’t trust because if you can’t trust them to not share your manuscript with ANYONE, then you can’t trust them enough to send it to them, and the entire point of having the WB is ruined. Trust is imperative. And since I’m fairly sure we’re all young writers here, it’s a good idea to gain the trust of their parents too. I didn't get to read her first book for WEEKS after she finished it cause her mom didn't want me to steal the idea. So make sure the parents know that you can be trusted.

Trust is important.

How Do I Find a WB

Another good question… I actually can’t really answer that very well to be honest. We're such a rare case that I don’t know how most people go about finding one. *wince* Sorry about that. For a little vague back story:

We met on an obscure little website for Artemis Fowl Fan Fiction. She had been writing there for a few months already and I was brand new. I will freely admit it. I worshiped every word she WROTE. She says she didn’t think of me as a puppy dog and was more flattered than annoyed, but I’m pretty sure that she says that to spare my feelings. I was pretty puppy-ish.

And it was in the puppy-dogish worship that I followed her and a couple of the other authors to another website geared for something unrelated to Artemis Fowl, but related to the website. Wish I could tell you more but I can’t really. But I will say that it was mostly RPing and she was pretty much the only person who took me seriously. Which only made me like her more. Sometimes after the drama (And boy was it DRAMA. Serious. Like… crazy stuff. Every night. But beside the point again) we would have conversations.

Fun conversations. Where poles started attacking people and legendary Pokémon would come out the sky and lend us a hand in our chainsaw vanquishing.

If you think I’m joking, I’m not.

We make jokes about it to this day.

And then we started talking over email and stopped communicating for a bit. Then about a year and a half ago she sent me a message about another RPish thing she had created and I felt very very happy she had thought to include me in that. So I joined in. We started talking in and out of it. Then we both got a Skype and she started talking to me about her ideas… (which she actually wasn’t supposed to do) and… here we are.

Best friends.

I have no idea what your experience will be like. Hopefully it will be just as fun. Maybe it won’t be. Cassandra Clare wrote about it in her “Writer’s Advice” column.

She says:

“It can often be easier to find a critique group online than in real life. Some of the most famous include Critters and The Online Writing Workshop for Science Fiction and Fantasy. You can also search through yahoo groups or Goggle groups for writing groups devoted to your specialization. In real life, try looking at message boards in libraries, taking classes at community colleges or universities, or putting out flyers yourself to meet other writers.”

I say take her advice.

Like I said… probably not the best person to ask on how to find/get one. I would say that everyone’s story is going to be unique. You’re likely going to find your WB completely differently from anyone except your WB. And it can be a group. In fact I would suggest a group. More opinions.

Summary

YOU NEED A WRITING BUDDY. OR MULTIPLE IF YOU CAN GET THEM.

THEY SHOULD BE FRIENDS YOU WOULD WANT TO HANG OUT WITH NORMALLY

BE THE WB YOU WOULD WANT TO HAVE (not explicitly said, but it was subtext)

YOU HAVE TO TRUST THEM

THE VINSHIRE SISTERS HAVE AN ODD AND WEIRD PAST AND ARE NOT TO BE SOUGHT FOR ADVICE ON HOW TO FIND A WB

And I’m just going to give a little shout out to two of the biggest famous WBs that I know of

Cassandra Clare (Writer of the Mortal Instruments/Infernal Devices- if you don’t know them READ THEM) is best friends with Holly Black (writer of Farie Tales- only really made it through the first two; the last made me want to throw it against the wall…) Black introduced Clare to her agent and kick-started her career which has hit best seller lists, sold millions of copies, and is working on a movie.

And then we have perhaps THE most famous example:

C.S. Lewis and J.R.R Tolkien.

If you don’t know who either of those are, you need to go hide under a rock and stop pretending you ever had a childhood.

They were best friends who both taught at the same college and had tea every Wednesday.

WB’s are very important. They can influence you in ways that you cannot even imagine.

You need one.

Get one.

Margaret's Old Post:

Subtitle: It is a truth universally acknowledged that a lonesome writer must be in want of a writing buddy.

Well, it should be universally acknowledged. Part of the reason writer’s write is that we want to share our imaginary worlds with the ‘real’ world.

Or at least, that’s part of the reason I  write.

And when sitting all the lonesome, staring balefully at your computer, more often than not – you loose sight of that.

Magnificent prose leaves your fingers, however unneeded that prose might be – and as your stroke your manuscript hissing “Precious” and find that while you know you should cut things – every single word is ever so lovely and- and that’s when – without writing buddy – you can find yourself in a harrowing situation.

They also make a fantastic cheering team – while I don’t use my writing buddy so much for editing and helping me cut – I do use her as my babble-to person, someone who listens to me as I bounce ideas off of her.

It’s magnificently helpful!

Look – there is about five billion and one reasons for one to choose and find a writing buddy.

There’s this fantastic story I found once – A writer was talking to a brain surgeon, and after informing the surgeon that she wrote books, the surgeon responded, “Oh how nice! I was thinking of writing a book myself when I retire!” and the writer responded, “Really! Isn’t that the oddest thing – I was thinking of being a brain surgeon when I retire myself!”

Writing a book isn’t easy.

But it’s easier if you have someone who can coax and help you and listen to hours and hours and hours of ideas as you babble endlessly into her ear so badly she keels over, sobbing. And you have to attend her funeral after she accidentally kills herself banging her head on the wall to escape.

…Not that any of that ever happened to me! Of course not! Why doth you ask such a thing?

~Amanda Vinshire (with input from Margaret)

How to Make a Non-Cliche Protagonist (Part 1)

Heya Guys, I'm finally back. Sorry I haven't been posting much, pretty sure you all loves Amanda right now and think I'm THE GHOST OF TBBT *le gasp* - but that's because Geometry and Chemistry have it out for my soul.

Sorry.

Note: This is called Part 1 because at some point, Amanda will be doing her point of view at some point.

Anyway, off to our subject today!

How to make a Non Cliche Protagonist!

Come on guys, you know what I'm talking about. They're everywhere! On the library bookshelves, on your old stories on your computer, in the books that are being sent out right now, in your sock drawer (yes, one lives there.  It can be guaranteed. I've had to designate a new secret sock drawer because the one that lives in mine has your a-typical fiery personality. Taken to a literal level.)

So, first off...

The Doubters

Let’s face it people. They’re always going to be there. It’s like the little kid when they’re five saying “Mommy I want to be the president!” or the ten year old who gets cast in his fifth grade play and becomes convinced that he’s going to become the next Hollywood star.

“Awww…. How cute!”

They’re going to be like that until you get a book deal. In fact, they’ll probably be there AFTER you get the book deal simply because of how hard it is to get into the business. In today’s world it’s almost as hard to muscle your way into the writing business as it is to get into the acting business. Not as hard as from the acting to music! *cheesy joke drum roll* You know, like the Disney stars who start singing cause it’d cheaper for Disney to re-contract them then find someone else…

Anyways, my point is that there are going to be doubters. I deal with this problem. Margaret deals with this problem. You deal with the problem or soon will. If you don’t, it’s probably because you’re some closet bunny that knows everyone wants you to be a doctor not a writer.

My Experience

I get really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really mad. And I don’t get really mad very easily. I’m just one of those easy going people that really only wants a computer, books, food, and air conditioning to be happy in life. But when people tell me or make it obvious that they don’t think I have what it takes to make it into the published/writing world I get MAD.

For me it’s a matter of I don’t think they realized how serious I am about it. I can imagine them reacting that way when I was eight and was writing the story mentioned before. Or in third grade when I wrote a story just because my best friend at the time was and it was a COMPLETE rip-off of Harry Potter. But now it makes me very mad that they don’t understand that it’s a serious goal. I am working towards it as we speak. Reading Writer’s Market 2013 (a birthday present from Margaret a few days ago :D THANK YOU!), trying to work on building a platform (which you see the product of here… :)), writing in my free time. I’m passive about a lot of things, but not this.

So, as I’ve said before already, I get mad when people don’t take me seriously.

What I Do/What My Advice About What You Should Do About It

Ignore them.

I would say spit in their faces, but that wouldn't be very nice at all. Nor sanitary. Nor socially acceptable. And It probably wouldn't make them believe you any more that they already were. In fact it might make them believe you less. So don’t spit in their faces.

I usually just ignore them. Or just answer politely. They’ll have to eat they’re words when you do end up making it. You’re probably not going to become the next JK Rowling (Sorry. I probably won’t be either, if that helps.) but you will still be able to shove your autographed copy in their faces which will be well worth it.

The Wrap/Encouragement/Pep Talk

I just want you to know right now that you cannot let them get to you. I will repeat again, DO NOT LET THEM GET TO YOU! If you are really and truly determined to become an author you will become so! Even if your writing sucks, if you really want to write you’ll write and get better. You will go and make the effort of pitching to ever single agent that would ever consider picking up your book.

But if you start to believe the doubters, you won’t. Because it is hard. It’s going to be hard, for you and me. And if you’re not determined with every fiber of your being and scorning the doubters in your head (like I said, no spiting in faces) you’re probably not going to make it.

And you have to make it.

~Amanda Vinshire

P.S. If you have any questions, topics, or doubts yourself please email them in! We'd love to answer them!

vinshire.sisters@gmail.com

The Short Attention Span Prologue

Subtitle: …Which is why I’ve rewritten mine for about the billionth time. *crazy eye twitch*

There many facts of life that one hates.

One of the most brutal and sulk worthy is that people have short attention spans – and are quick to judge whether or not something is worth their time.

The same is true for books.

So, of course, one must have the AWESOMESAUCE GIFT FROM THE STARS first line and/or prologue.

…

Please hold while I scream in pain.

SERIOUSLY. This is what, the fifth or sixth prologue I’ve done now, and it’s slowly beginning to wear on my nerves. Wait, that’s a vast understatement.

IT IS SLOWLY KILLING ME FROM THE INSIDE!

….I can hear you all laughing at me now.

Bahhumbug.

*huffs*

Anyway, I dare you writers out there who are reading my blog to go write a 500 word prologue that captures the essence of your story and has a killer first line.

And when you come back just as depressed about the entire thing as I am, then we can have a gigantic writer’s pity part together.

Anyway, thanks for reading, I’m probably (not) over-exaggerating, and have a great day guys!

(Those last few words don’t sound quite right…. oh well.)

Oh, by the by, glossary word of the day!

Headdesk:  When the head meets the desk as an expression of frustration, disappointment, or exasperation. Sometimes in reference to when something is stupid.

Just in case you all didn’t know that.

~Margaret Vinshire, July 2012, about thirty pages and a lot of revisions away from the end of her book

Skeletons in the Closet (or maybe just a month's worth of laundry)

From my experience, author's are not the cleanest people. 

Maybe there's one or two authors out there that stay organized in their daily lives, but for the most part most authors are not organized in anything other then their writing. And even then, not always. 

Teenagers are also not very well known for their... cleanliness.

The combination of these two factors cause a buildup of a lot of mess.

Sometimes said mess gets so bad you can't even see the floor, literally. Or, for another example, your bathroom sink.

I got to that point a few weeks ago. If not months.

Another thing about me is that sometimes, completely randomly and out of the blue, I'll just start cleaning. Obsessively. 

I think that's enough background for now...

Yes. That's right. It was background info to the illustrious POINT. Which always seems to disappear from these things...

Anyways. One of the things I was cleaning up as I worked was my bedside table which is full of a bunch of old papers. Some are old pictures I tried (and failed) to draw, old pamphlets that I thought were important, and more importantly, old pieces of writing. I also have the habit of writing on the backs of scraps of paper, typing them up, and throwing them in a draw to gather dust until something like this happens.

Guys, I beg of you, on my hands and knees, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE save all of your writing. It's so important I'm going to say it again bolded and underlined.PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE save all of your writing. I'm serious. I know that the story you wrote in the fifth grade makes you bow your head in shame. Trust me, I know. What's worse is remembering how proud you used to feel about it.

But when you go back and read it?

It is just an experience to itself. It's a trip back in time. Call me a pack-rat, but I'm serious. I was reading a story I tried to write when I was eight that was an obvious and blatant rip-off of Guerdo  thieves from Zelda: Ocarina of Time and I couldn't stop laughing. It was so adorable! Oh my goodness. And my old fan fiction from Yugioh of all things? Oh my gosh. 

You just can't replicate that feeling.

If you don't have old things saved, start saving them now. It will cause you no end of pleasure later. And think about when you're a big name and all the little Middle-School children are talking about your book for their English book reports and you let loose one of these pieces on the internet to prove just how much you've improved. Cause there's going to be a difference. There'd better be. If I hadn't improved from my seventh's grade stories? I think I would go and die in shame...

Anyways, I would really really like to see what types of things you used to write when you were younger. Please send them vinshire.sisters@gmail.com if you're brave enough. Yup. That's a CHALLENGE.

And just to give me the right to issue said challenge, I'll participate myself.

This is a story I've tried to rewrite... a lot. I don't even want to try to go back and count how many times I've come up with something new for it. Maybe I'll try again sometime... Without further ado...

Prologue

          At the time of midnight, in the Terian woods, a woman wearing a long cloak that covered her face and carrying a small bundle ran through the forest.  She was careful to avoid any rocks or roots as to not jostle the little bundle in her arms.  Over a thin stream, around a boulder, and off a ledge.  After a few more yards her pointed ears picked up faint traces of pursuit.  She guessed that they were humans, ten to fifteen of them, coming in her direction, about 100 yards behind.

          Hurrying her pace, she ran through the slowly thinning trees.  Coming to a clearing she stopped, and looked around.  As she was searching, a dark shape watched her, not daring to approach yet.

          Finding what she was looking for, a marking in the rock in the shape of an eye, she laid the small bundle of blankets on the ground beneath the rocks.  She knelt down and whispered a few quiet words. 

          Hearing the sounds of pursuit again she got up and turned.  The dark shape tensed, but the mother turned around again.

          “Good bye Areena, I’m sorry, sleep well,” and without another word she was gone.

          A quite fell on the clearing and the only sound was of the dark shape steeping into the dim light from the full moon.  It walked around sniffing and searching for any hints that the mother might come back.  Apparently finding none, it walked over to the child that had the most piercing green eyes and started inspecting her.              

          Through out all of this the child slept, thinking not of danger, or fear, only sweet dreams of a castle on the horizon.

                                                Hunter

          A deer ran through the woods at noon, watching for any hints of danger.  It bent it’s head down low to drink from the shallow pond beside it.                 What it didn’t notice was a hunter, pulling back an arrow with a inhumanly grace.  The arrow flew hitting the mark exactly, the deer was deed in seconds. 

          Many times had this huntress shot a dear, but never had she killed any thing this large.  Arenaa was the name of the huntress, with the lightest brown hair found bouncing slightly as she walked over to the body of the now dead deer, sharp green eyes searching for threats.

          Pulling the arrow out of the carcass and beginning to clean it, Arenaa yelled,    

          “Rinca!”

          Almost immediately a blue and purple fairy was hovering by her side. It had gossamer transparent purple wings and blue skin that looked good with her sharp pointy face. She was about six inches tall.

          “Wow” the colorful dot remarked rather quickly “That’s a big one Arenaa, how big would you say?”

          “Two to three days worth for all of us, two maybe three years old, four and a half feet long.” Areena replied dully as she eyed the beast.

          “Like I said, Wow!  You know what this means? Paco owes me 3 coins.”  Arenaa gave her a Oh-come-on-I-told-you-to-stop look.

          “What?” Rinca asked in a false innocent voice “Ok, I know you don’t like me betting on you, but it was necessary. Paco said that you couldn’t get anything bigger than an fawn.”  Arenaa frowned but inside she was happy that Rinca had stood up for her like that, but than of course she should have expected it. Rinca had supported her in everything she had done since before she could remember.

          “And she can’t” a stuck up sounding voice said from the trees. Rinca rolled her eyes and whispered,

          “Wait till you see the look on his face when he sees this.” And she was right.  As the small red, green fairy flew out of the trees and caught sight of the beast on the ground, the look on it’s face was hilarious. They both had to hold back tears of laughter.

          “Um … how much do I owe you Rinca?” he asked hesitantly. Rinca smirked.

          “Three coins”

          “What!” he looked outraged “There is no way I would have agreed to that!”

          “Maybe, but you still did!” She was holding back on her laughter “Pay  up” Grumpily he pulled out three gold coins the size of a baby’s fist out of the leather pouch he wore on his shoulder.

          “Rinca, come on lets go. All our admirers will be waiting” by that Areena meant all the people waiting to laugh at her small catch, which didn’t often. Areena was actually despised by a lot of the kids that grew up around her. To them she was too perfect and Blake liked her too much, so they were always trying to find ways to somehow “get back at her”.

          “OK, I’m coming. Yeshh don’t be such a bossy,” was the only reply she got. As she turned away she heard a quiet whisper that sounded a lot like

          “Yeah, like she really shot it.”

          A smile played on her lips as she started imagining what Rinca was doing to Paco right know. Carried on by this thought, she walked away slowly so Rinca could get back and tell her a cover up story to tell everyone else.

          “So what’s the story for Paco getting beat up this time?” she asked as Rinca flew into sight.

          “Oh I was thinking about flying into a tree.”

           “And you think Mariesh will buy it?” there was a pause.

          “No.” they said in synchronized voices.

          Every person on the land of Mari had a partner, fairy, nymph, or sprit, except the mysterious thieves to the north west. Rinca was Areena’s and Paco was Mariesh’s. Partners are free to leave if they wish, but most would rather stay with each other for life.

          Out of all the people who hated her, Mariesh hated her the most, no, she loathed her. No one knew why and some people even felt sorry for Areena because she loathed her so much. Mariesh would do just about anything to hurt her, insult her, or embarrass her on a daily basis. It didn’t help that Mariesh is what some would call “a gang leader”. Of course Areena was always to fast to catch, to good to get in trouble, and to strong to be embarrassed.

          “Well I guess it is time to find out” Said Areena as she walked out from the thick, green underbrush that was a hidden entrance to her “home”, otherwise known as Blake’s clearing.

          There was already someone waiting for her. Mariesh was standing there tall as ever, with her shoulder length jet back black hair hanging over her shoulder her blue eyes looking as if to kill. Areena had to admit that she looked intimidating with her “gang” standing there backing her up.

          “What did you do to him?” she close to yelled at her.

          “What do you mean, Mariesh?” Areena said putting on her innocent voice.

          “I know you did something to him, you monster!” she, again, yelled at her. Already almost every one was staring now except for a group of four and five year-olds playing skip rope (jump rope).

          “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!” even the group of skip ropers were staring now. The looks on their faces are so cute, Areena randomly thought.

          “I did absolutely NOTHING to your little monster of a partner.”

          “Don’t even try to lie to me I know he got hurt!”

          “Did you ever think that maybe we didn’t hurt him, just because he’s hurt doesn’t mean we did it.”

          Rinca piped in “Beside he flew into a tree”

          Mariesh‘s stare could kill “You already tried that on me don’t think of me as a fool!” almost every one went back to what they were doing, same old fight.

          “Look Mariesh, I’m tired, I’ve just caught about the biggest catch of my life and I would just like to go about my day without any fights.”

          “Oh really” Mariesh said her voice dipped in sarcasm and handed to Areena on a plate “How big is it? A fawn.” They were staring again, listening carefully, some to hear her admit it, in small hopes, the others to hear Mariesh’s reaction to what ever Areena was going to say. It was different every time.

          “No actually that was your catch last week.” This remark was greeted by a bunch of you-got-served ohs “My catch happens to be dinner for all of us for a good three days.” She could hear a good few cheers in the back of the crowd.

          “What’s going on around here?” a deep throated, but gentle voice called out of the crowd.

          Every one went back to what they were doing the second this happened. This was Blake.

So yeah.... 

I've posted my shame. Send me yours. Please and thank you and thanks for reading,

~Amanda Vinshire

P.S. If you also live a similar lifestyle to mine (messy) now's as good a time as any as trying to clean up a little. Going back to the bathroom sink theme at the beginning, I discovered that they're actually white! It's that so cool?

Writer's Disease

I want to introduce all of you to a particular disease of mine.

It is a horrible, gruesome, slightly contagious, and in some cases fatal disease.

I and my ‘sister’ like to call it “Writers Disease”.

Horrible, gruesome, slightly contagious, and in some cases fatal.

Don’t you agree?

Likely, some of you have caught it or susceptible to it.

Isn’t that the reason we’re all here? This should be a blog about young writers, it should be some sort of copping blog.

“Hi, my name’s Amanda and I have Writers Disease.”

“Hi, Amanda.” Complete with monotone chorusing voices. Except for the one person who has a squeaky voice because they don’t actually speak to people, only write all day long, with stooped shoulder, pale face and long crooked fingers that aren’t good for anything except hitting keys on the keyboards.

“I’ve felt the symptoms since I was about seven, I was first diagnosed with it when I was twelve and have since had to work my entire life around it.”

You know why that’s so funny?

Because it’s true.

Or maybe you didn’t find it funny… it’s still true. And you cannot deny it. You can try, but your attempt will be proven false by the thousands of human beings who have had their lives ripped away by this disease.

It is real. One day it will be dictionary. That’s right. Oxford dictionary. It will be treated by doctors world-wide and we can all be officially considered tortured artists because of the deadly disease we carry within our bodies.

Wait for it. Believe it. Support it. Tweet it. Facebook it. Tumblr it if you must. SPREAD THE WORD!

Writers Disease: (n) the sickness contracted by those with aspirations to write novels. Symptoms include obsessions with fictional characters, word choices, and plot. Insomnia, paleness, lack of communication with the outside world, flimsy and or lack of muscles, and incessant chanting of “one more page” or “She’s gonna die!” are also common indicators.

(Sorry for the shortness of the post- it's almost midnight and I don't get enough sleep on the weekdays so I really should be getting more on the weekends. Failing at that.)

How to Lasso Your Story and Avoid The Brick Wall from Hell

To all readers out there – Hello! I’m Margaret of the Vinshire Sisters. And I’ve finally got off my lazy butt to go forth and write a post!

I can hear the non-existent cheers now.

Also, so you guys can’t kill me…

DISLCAIMER/WARNING: Those who read Margaret’s posts are in danger of sudden temper tantrums, desires to beat yourself unconscious, becoming a grammar nazi in desperation, and slight possible patronization. Thank you, have a nice day.

School and How It Relates to Writing

Amanda here again. 

If you've checked out the About Us section which you may or may not have done, you would know that I go to public school and my dear "sister", Margaret, is home schooled.

Let's just get this out of the way right now.

Public school sucks.

Majorly.

It sucks so badly it could be a Dyson vacuum cleaner.

Especially when you're taking two AP classes and all honors. Not to mention the Spanish class taught by the 5 year army vet who makes people cry and the PE teacher that actually makes you exercise turning class! I mean, who hires a PE teacher like that? That's the whole point of PE. So you don't actually have to do any physical work.

I don't know, maybe you guy's don't have that problem. Maybe you actually LIKE to exercise (though in my experience, most writers don't), but in that case you'd probably join an actual sport. Kinda wish I had taken dance but don't want to risk messing up my schedule...

But I've gone off on a tangent (something you'll learn I do... a lot... both of us do actually... should be fun, eh?).

School sucks. And while learning is an amazing thing that in this generation we are very very blessed and lucky to have for free (hence PUBLIC school), I just wish it didn't come with, you know, everything else. 

Read: homework.

I promise this is not just complaining about how much homework I have and "Oh woe is me", there is going to be a lesson and even a question out of all of this. I'm just gonna do a bit of complaining first because I really want to/need to vent. Venting is good for the soul, you know. Releases tension.

Did you know that homework was first invented so that kids would have something to do at home after school so they wouldn't be bored all the time?

I think it's gone overboard. Seriously. There's homework and there's "Hey guys, let's give them enough homework to keep them up until 12:00 every single night! And then we'll give them a project and we can all have our tests on the same exact day so they have to stay up even later studying for both tests and they'll fail both because they were afraid of failing on and studied poorly on both! Muahahahahahaha!"

The reason for this blog post:

Tomorrow's Monday and I don't want to go back to school :(

But the purpose I promised you!

It was slightly touched upon on the last blog post, about finding time to write when there's a lot of things going on in your life. This isn't just for teenagers in high school, either. Everyone has trouble finding the time or the inspiration to do things these days, whether it's school or work or sports or homework... I wish I was able to give you a magical antidote, because trust me, if I could, I would sell it an make a fortune.

It all really boils down to one thing. 

You will not find time. 

You will never find time. 

So make it. Write late into the night (though I wouldn't suggest doing it the night before a test, trust me on that one), write in the car, do your homework in the car so that you can write later. Learn to write in multiple places at one time (working on that, betting better) so that when you have the opportunity you can work on it. Obviously you're not going to have time to pull out a computer during the last five minutes of a class period that you got because your teacher finished a few minutes early, but you do have enough time to flip over your math homework and scribble a hundred words on the back of it.

It works. A lot of the time you don't even have to have the paper ever again because the physical act of writing it down helped you five billion times over. Exact wording makes it stick in your brain and makes everything make more sense.

If you have a nice phone, type it out on said nice phone and email it to yourself. 

Just make sure you're writing.

Make the time. Do today's math homework at lunch so you don't have to worry about it when you get home. If you can do it right, it works well.

If not... um... well... leave a comment or send and email yelling at me and telling me how stupid I am! Haha... or you could leave a comment/send an email about how awesome my advice is... Or just not say anything at all. That works too.

I hate Mondays.

~ Amanda Vinshire