Growing Up is Underrated

When I was a kid, I was hardly one to wish I was older.  I never dreamed of taking on the world at an age older than I was.  Life as it was seemed just enough.  Of course, the simplicity of childhood is like a dream that we spend most of our lives remembering fondly once responsibility has decided to take hold of us.  For me, the first step along that dreaded path was when I was nine.  The next, when I turned fourteen.  While it might be common practice to share everything on the internet, there are still parts of my life that I feel are private.  As such, the events that led me down a somber, responsible path will remain known to me and a select few people.  However, having spent more than enough time depressing my readers, I'll move on to the whole point of my latest ramblings.

For those of us who have shouldered responsibility for most of our lives, there is a time when one might start to feel like that is all we have.  I know for me, the years between turning fourteen and halfway to eighteen felt like the world had fallen upon my shoulders.  I lost almost all traces of the child I was.  I still read books, I have never not read books, but the spark within me that had once led at the young age of six to writing stories, was dimmed to the point of absence.  The only pleasure in writing to be found was in the assignments that were given out by my English teachers, mainly Mr. Canode.  Every once in awhile a story would pop in and consume me, but they were mere wisps of what could be, and they were easily enough satisfied.

The winter of my seventeenth year, I had an epiphany.  I cannot affix on the moment or the catalyst, but I realized in short succession that I had been burying myself for far too long.  I had to break free, to be able to embrace just what it was I could do.  That was the beginning of what would become this passion that now consumes me on a rather regular basis.  

However, the years of repression were not without their effects.  I started many stories that had been building in my mind, but until I was twenty, never finished.  Then, through sheer perseverance, an idea finally came to fruition in its entirety.  It was a ghost of what I had originally imagined, but it was complete, and that was the most important part.  When something like NaNoWriMo stresses to let your inner editor lie quiet while you just get that rough draft done, there is a very good reason for this.  After that, I finally found what had been missing, and I could embrace the wild side of me to let out story after story.  

This might sound dull, perhaps a little trite, but the single most important factor I have found to continue to write has been a new found love of childish things.  I buy My Little Pony toys (preferably those that still look like ponies), Disney Princess pencils, and I never miss an animated film with a happy ending.  But that was exactly what had been missing for so long, my inner child.  By embracing her proudly, I can now write the stories that fill my head, and I can smile about it all again.  After all, it's hard to take life too seriously when you're playing with your ponies.

For all those who have felt a need to break free from the day to day grind of life, try watching something quaint, colorful, and, most importantly, with a happy ending.  You might just find what you've been missing, too.  And always remember:

Until next time...

L.E. Gibler

Warm Fuzzies

In the realm of writers everywhere, we all know the feeling when a story just isn't going according to plan.  Some might call it writer's block.  I call it limbo. 

Now it is completely and totally reasonable to dislike and even fear writer's block. It's a crimp on stories begging to be written.  It sometimes feels like an itch you can't scratch.  But there is one silver lining to having it, and that is getting over it.  There is truly nothing more buoyant in my writing then when I had to gut out a tough section only to feel the story course through my veins and out through my fingertips once more.

There is no real, fail-safe cure for writer's block.  Most people who are writers, or read about writers, or just read, will tell those struggling to just write.  Write everyday.  As I've said in previous posts, I am a fan of letting things come to you.  If I am not feeling what I'm writing, it doesn't matter how many times I try and write to finish a thought, a sentence, an entire story.  If I'm not on the same page as my characters, I am wasting all our time on forcing issues.  Here are a few suggestions I have for anyone facing this problem that just feels like they've been banging their head against a brick wall for weeks.

1.  Write.  This may sound a bit hypocritical, but I am all for the idea that there is no ONE right answer.  There are many.  There can be wrong answers, but how we perceive the world will vary how we perceive an answer.  So, in the spirit of keeping an open mind, try to write.  It clearly works for a great many people.

2. Don't write.  Give up, put it in the bag, and tell your grandchildren that you once had a great idea for a novel.  This is, clearly, a terrible idea.  I don't recommend trying it.

3. Take a break.  But at the same time, keep your story close.  When I'm faced with an impasse, I like to jot down where I am in the story, where I think I'm going, and then I carry around a journal with me for however long it takes to get points a & b to meet.  Sometimes, I won't lie, this will take years.  Other times, it happens when I'm trying to go to sleep at night.  However, the point here is that it happens.

With NaNoWriMo half way over, it can be a time of severe writer's block followed by a touch of panic.  For this unique situation, I offer one more opportunity for those of us who are fiercely competitive.  We may be introverts, but that doesn't mean we still don't want to win at just about anything.  So try a NaNo word sprint.  And even if it crap, and you don't use it, set the goal that you're going to write more words than someone.  Doesn't matter who.  After all, this is a friendly competition.  Save all the rest of that pent up desire to crush opponents for the holidays shopping.  Spoiler: it's upon us now.

GOOD LUCK to everyone participating in NaNoWriMo this year.  I'm such a masochist that I'm working to finish story number two.  

Until next time...

Smart Cars Are Not Mean to go Off Road

This blog was originally set up with no real purpose in mind, hence the title.  It has gone through several changes in the interim, from writing about trying to set up a home garden/sewing business to dealing with horse related issues, and now the highs and lows of being a self published author.  However, I don't ever want to lose the randomness of my ramblings, and so, without further ado, I present to you a short story about my Smart Car: Clarabelle (key any references from those know where she gets her name - I don't, my grandmother named her, but I promise it has nothing to do with Stephen King)

To give context to Clarabelle, the following facts need to be stated.

1. I live in Washington State
2. Clarabelle is from Washington DC
3. Clarabelle is listed as "rally red"
4. The actual color is more like Cinderella Pumpkin orange

For your further reference:

Now that we're all on the same page, relatively speaking, I shall share with the world why Smart Cars are not meant to go off-roading.  For starters, bumpy roads and train tracks are a bit of a shock.  The very first time my grandmother and I hit a set of railroad tracks, we were just outside of Pittsburgh, PA, and it woke her up from her driving induced coma.  There after, we called out "bump" any time we could notice a change coming in the road.  And let's just say road construction is an experience all upon itself.  I could probably write an entire novella about my experiences in Clarabelle.  Starting out life in a car 3000 miles from home and then driving it cross country tends to create a lasting impression.  However, that would take far too long.  Creative kindred spirits, let your imagination soar with the possibilities. Chances are, some of them are pretty close to fact.

Today's short story is about the pitfalls of accidental off-roading.  It began on a Sunday, where I was trying to get to a house, but there was a parade in my way.  Having spent seven years of my childhood in the city in question, and having learned the ins and outs of how roads operated as a UPS driver, I was pretty positive I could make it to my destination without interfering with the parade.  I simply skirted onto one of the main roads, chose a likely looking cross road and set off.  This should have been nice, simple, straightforward, and it was, for the first mile.  Then, the road just stopped.  And there wasn't a sign telling me this, there wasn't a little lip to make it easy.  There was simply pavement and then a two to three inch gap down to rough gravel.  Luckily, I was alone on the road, for I came to a screeching halt, expressing my opinions about road maintenance while trying to calculate what the chance of scraping my undercarriage would be to drop off that sort of incline.  Unpleasant memories of that road outside of Chicago that had been under construction popped into my head, but I could see the road I was headed for just off in the distance.  Slowly, carefully, I drove to the edge of the lip, where it was only about two inches, eased off onto the gravel, and then proceeded to bounce along like I was on a stiff legged pony down a gravel road.  The whole time, I wasn't really having anything positive to say about my experiences, and when I passed a sign that told me "Slow: 10 mph", I shouted at it, something along the lines of: "If I could go 10 mph, I would!".  Luckily for me, it was a short venture  into the world of off-roading, and in little enough time, I was back on the bliss of pavement.  

In my experiences with Clarabelle and the world of less than ideal roads, I've hit my head on the roof when unable to avoid pot holes, felt my teeth rattle from gravel and dips, and slid with little control on grass.  During an ice storm, I truly felt like a glorified hockey puck.  However, at the end of the day, I can still laugh it off.  High winds might be brutal, snow might be impossible, but when I meet complete and total strangers, if my introverted-ness isn't showing, I can strike up a conversation with just about anyone.  "See that orange Smart Car?  It's from Washington...DC."  Works every single time.  And all that the bumps, holes, and detours provide is even more to share.  After all, the title alone made you wonder, didn't it?

I promise, more on my personal writing/publishing/editing experience next time. Until then...

A Mind of Their Own

So I know that last time I did promise a tale of why Smart Cars are not meant for off-roading.  Trust me, I haven't forgotten, but in the theme of my title, I feel compelled to share a few observations about writing.  To help summarize what I'll be covering in personal experience, fellow writers, please enjoy the following:

One of my favorite authors of all time, Elizabeth Peters, remarked on how a character she had meant for one book became a 20+ book series.  Love her or hate her, there was no denying that Amelia Peabody had a mind of her own.  Anyone who has ever put characters to paper knows just how opinionated they can become.  My own experience with such a character was in a novella I was working on.  I managed to get so far as the 3/4 mark and then I hit a wall.  I am not a typical sufferer of writer's block, but on that particular story, I just could not get the story going again.  Then, the very opinionated, very proper mother-in-law shared with me that if I would stop trying to make her the wicked witch in the story, I could finish it.  Low and behold (is that how you spell that?) the story was finished in less than a day after Matilda and I came to terms.  And to this day, when I think of Elizabeth Peter's comments about Amelia, I am reminded of Matilda.

Anyway, fast forward to NaNoWriMo 2015.  I have dedicated an entire series to be written only during November, and I'll admit to some trepidation this year as my main characters were twin boys, not exactly a subject I have a ton of expertise in.  However, they were the characters I had created, and they were where the story was headed.  I couldn't avoid that.  

This has been one of the trickier stories I've written in awhile, though, for while the tale centers on the twins, I had not realized how very different they were until I started.  And, having completed the first five chapters, it occurred to me that while the flippant twin, Patrick, and I got along just fine, I hadn't taken the time to truly get to know Peter.  I struggled for a few days trying to figure out how to get all the pieces to line up, but then the idea occurred to me that they were two different characters and it was time I treated them as such.  And so, yesterday, I wrote what was easy.  I wrote the chapters that were Patrick's, and Pat's alone.  Today, I dedicated my time and energy to getting to know Peter better.  The problem is that Pete's a bit shy, and harder to get out of his shell, but deep down, he's as much a part of me as his brother.  Maybe the true talent here will be in showing the world through this story my own insecurities.  Maybe that's what Pete has been trying to tell me all along, but I've been too afraid to notice. 

My advice to all writers out there, based on my own experience, is to give your characters that chance to tell you what you've been missing.  I can promise you you won't regret it. And those that take the most time to get to know are often the ones most worth knowing because they will change the story in ways you never saw coming.  And please, I would love to hear from fellow writers and/or NaNoWriMo participants.  Writers are not necessarily the most gregarious of people, but sometimes it can be wonderful to connect with another soul who understands and doesn't just think I'm crazy.

Next time, I promise, tales of Smart Cars.

P.S. I just realized that all of yesterday, when I was working on the separate chapters of my outgoing twin, I was super competitive about NaNoWriMo word sprints...oddly enough, when I separated the story completely to focus on my introvert, I haven't competed in one...I promise I'm not crazy, I'm just a writer.

In the Spirit of Giving

I am typically not one who embraces Christmas before Thanksgiving.  I've worked in the retail industry for most of my life, and if there is one thing that retail can ruin, it's the holiday season.  However, the true spirit of the holidays, the spirit of giving, has been something that inspires me year round.

Today is Double Up Donation Day with NaNoWriMo.  They have created incentives and prizes, and there's an entire online community getting into the spirit of giving.  And I have to imagine that while a few are like me, and happily take the prizes, we are still there for the real reason.  We are there to help others and to keep this wonderful tradition going strong.



To keep with the spirit, I decided to just treat today as a Donation Day.  In that spirit, I donated to the World Wildlife Foundation for no other reason than that it was a good thing to do.  I'm also a fan of matching donations, and so I will henceforth dedicate the proceeds from my NaNoWriMo winning book Caitiff Academy: The Tigress to the process that helped create it.  

When the holidays get closer, I know I'll be one to drop dollars into the Salvation Army bins, buy a toy or two for children, and otherwise do what I can.  I am not so financially lush that I can give enormous amounts, but I know that if we could all just give a little, a few lives can be made that much easier.  Whether that is a struggling student or an endangered species, here's hoping that we can all remember the spirit of giving, no matter what time of year it is.


In the spirit of the randomness that started this blog, tomorrow I will recap why Smart Cars are not meant to go off-roading.  

Until then:

Keep on, keeping on...
L.E. Gibler

Just Like Tea

Every writer has an opinion on how to write, and many who never put pen to paper to create stories have a few things to say as well.  The most common theme shared again and again is that you must write all the time, even if you don't feel like it.  Well, I'm here today to share my own opinion, which is to let your ideas percolate.

Very few people in this world are ever blessed with the opportunity to let their passion for the written word dictate their life.  Most of us have a plethora of ideas swirling around, but we must find time around the mundane world, to steal a phrase from the Society for Creative Anachronism.  For those of us who write when we can, the ideas don't stop coming just because we work.  They come to us at work, on the drive home, or even just before we fall asleep.  If we wrote every time an idea came to us we'd possibly lose our jobs, drive off the road, never sleep, or all of the above.  Now, I hate any sort of didactic statement.  If writing a little bit every day works for you, write a little bit every day!  I just want to put out the idea that sometimes writing can be like making a cup of tea.

For those participating in NaNoWriMo, you might have noticed that there is a badge if you manage to write for five days in a row.  I'm a highly competitive person.  Just last night, when I found someone in my region was beating me on the word count - something I was no accustomed to - I set about to go from roughly 3000 words to 10,000.  I came up with a rush of 7000 words last night, but that sort of explosion would not have been possible if I hadn't let the ideas of the day before seep.  Again, the competitive spirit means that I did put a few words into my story Monday night, but even I knew I was cheating a bit.  They were necessary words, and a scrap of conversation that would lead to a chapter, but I wasn't writing to create, I was writing to simply write.  However, I knew well enough that the trick was to let those few words set for a day.  Sure enough, as I was falling asleep that night, it came to me - how I needed to move the story forward.  For once, I was able to have a light bulb moment and go back to sleep.  But if i had continued to force the story from where it was, I would never have known just where I needed to go.  

So my one small conclusion is for those of you out there who find that writing everyday sometimes just feels a little bit wrong. That's okay too!  If the story feels forced, it will be forced.  Instead, think about it for a night.  Feel around like looking for a sore tooth.  What is wrong and what is right in a story will come to you, but it cannot always be forced.  For what it is worth, I support you fully if you decide not to write today.  But don't let your ideas die or wander off.  Keep them close, and they will become the perfect cup of tea.

Until next time...

It's That Time of Year!

Some people get excited about Christmas.  Others really wait and plan for that summer vacation. Personally, I am a fan of Halloween.  I mean, how many holidays encourage you to let your inner child out?  This year, my friend and book promoter/editor/inspiration-when-I'm-not-feeling-the-whole-book-thing, Jackie, and I decided that we had to celebrate the holiday by releasing my vampire-themed book First Bite (also with werewolves, elves, werecats, and more).  That was an adventure all on its own.  While I was pushing to finish the book's corrections and get the formatting down, Jackie was busy making sure her oldest boy was dressed appropriately to be what else but a vampire?  I promised her a shout out for her ingenious cape, and here it is:

However, in recent years, I've found even more reason to be excited by Halloween.  It is the last day of normalcy before the chaos that is NaNoWriMo.  My first endeavor with NaNoWriMo lead me to the fascinating world of Caitiff Academy.  I had always enjoyed a good super hero movie, but I had found myself wondering about the other side of the coin.  After all, a villain is only defined by her choices, and in the mind of a villain, she might be the hero and the hero the villain.  This idea spawned a universe where children of different backgrounds explored just what it meant to do what was right.  I fell in love with Annie Poe, the heart of the series, even as other characters came to life around her. 

This year, I was so busy from the end of July through October that all of my characters were bottled up inside of me.  It hurts to be a writer and have no outlet.  It also hurts to be a rider and be trapped by physical issues to turn a passion into a hobby.  But to have both held from me for three months led to waves of deep, unpleasant introspection with no real way out.  I wouldn't call it full depression, I don't want to take away from those who truly suffer, but I would have moods come upon me where there was nothing but darkness around me.  I was once surrounded by such thoughts all the time in my youth and massively unhappy all the time.  I was a certified pessimist, but somewhere in my seventeenth year, I found a freedom.  I broke free from a lifetime of self imposed expectations and began to take the first steps to becoming the person I was meant to be.  Slowly, I learned to let out my characters - to let them breathe and have lives and adventures all their own.  It took several years of trial and error to be able to let them out when I was able.  Being the quintessential struggling artist does tend to mean one must have a job to pay for life, but my characters didn't always work around my own timetable.  Finally, I reached a compromise to be where I am today.  

When I finally  had the freedom to write in the evenings, I unleashed a story that had been waiting to be told for nearly five years.  My first in the series, The Other Side of the Looking Glass, had been set aside for other characters like Annie and her friends, or the universe of Scarlett in First Bite.  But Nora finally prevailed, and I had a time crunch to complete her second story in two weeks - just in time for today, November 1st, the beginning of NaNoWriMo.  I am so happy to report SUCCESS!!!  As of today, Through a Rabbit Hole is complete in a rough draft.  

Now I can let the accomplishments sink in as I feel my Caitiff characters come back to me.  This year will be a busy one, and I don't just mean juggling's life's expectations with a book in a month.  No, this year is the year of Caitiff Academy: Gemini.  It's time to let the twins out, and it'll be hard to hold them in check for the forty hour work week.  I just hope that the life lessons that have led to this moment mean I'm up to the challenge.

GOOD LUCK to all fellow NaNoWriMo participants.  You can do it!!!!!!!

So Life Goes...

I'm relatively positive that I am not alone in wanting to shoot a computer, throw it out a ten story building, run over it with a car, or all of the above.  I've often thought of taking annoying computers and putting a "Free to Good Home" sign on them, but there is far too much sensitive data floating around in the world to risk it.  However, late last night, I was more than happy to have let someone have my old woolly mammoth.  

(My ancient laptop, which has been with me since I graduated high school, was so obsolete that no one else would touch it.  I adopted it fully, called it a dinosaur, and used it to write stories - with Microsoft Word 2001 - and watch movies.  Then, sadly, it's charger died and I was left without my dinosaur.  Enter the woolly mammoth, again, a device no one wanted, but my needs are relatively minor when it comes to computers.  I need Microsoft Office, and that's about it.  The ability to listen to music is a bonus, but I am not so picky as to need the internet.)

Jackie (my good friend and constant motivator for all things book related) and I had decided that my first book about vampires HAD to be ready for release on Halloween.  Somehow, around a full time job, a part time job teaching therapeutic horseback riding and an even more part time job just teaching horseback lessons, owning an entire herd myself and trying to cram for NaNoWriMo, I had to push to get in an entire book worth of edits by October 29th.  I'd paced myself early in the day, managed five chapters before work, and was well over half way through my latest book when the woolly mammoth decided to fail me.  It not only failed to save changes, it lost the file completely.  An entire book was lost to the unknown void that is my old computer.  I won't lie, I was in tears.  I wanted to break something, tear out wires, and baseball bats were sounding appealing.  But, for once, I didn't want to give up.  I had set a deadline, and I was going to make that deadline.

Fast forward four hours and three computers later, and I had done what I needed to do.  At one in the morning, slightly woozy from a lack of sleep and the remnants of the 48 hour flu, I could safely say I'd accomplished what I set out to do.  I went to sleep, resting on my laurels.

At eight this morning, I received word that the formatting was approved, and I was in the clear.  All I had left to do was proof the bare necessities before clicking that fateful button that would allow me to share my hard work with the world.  I suppose I should be happy that I thought to check one last time, for there, right smack dab on the cover, was a change I had missed.  Bear in mind, I was noticing this after I got home from work, through a sleep deprivation induced headache.  Now, I'm left wondering if I'm too late.  If all that crazy scrambling with one lone goal was for naught.  And the worst part is, I now have five hours to think about it.  To think, wonder, hope and fear.  

I suppose the moral of this story might be to get a new computer.  It's a nice moral, but not what I had in mind.  Someday, as Jackie pointed out, I will look back and laugh at what I have to deal with, but for now, it is what it is.  I choose, instead, to see this as a lesson in perseverance.  If I had given up the first time a computer crashed on me, I would never have finished my senior research paper.  I would never have finished my first published novel, The Other Side of the Looking Glass, and I'd be left with an unfinished book and absolutely no chance of a Halloween release for First Bite.  I guess, then, I've given it everything I have.  For now, I'll just continue to wait.  And maybe, just maybe, I'll find a little bit of luck at the end of it all.

For what it's worth, I can hope that by knowing of my difficulties, others might find some solace in similarity.  With NaNoWriMo quite literally only a day and a half away, perseverance is one of the greatest qualities anyone can have.

Keep rambling on...

L.E. Gibler


P.S. A link to First Bite will appear if the writing world is kind tonight..

Hello again, it's been awhile...

Wow, what a long while it has been.  I guess life can get away from us all, but rather than go into any rather personal details, I'll just continue on with the rather superfluous.

To start matters out on a high note, I did finally win at Camp NaNoWriMo.  Evidence below.

And I did finally create a website.  (legibler.wix.com/legibler).  Having a few hiccups with it, but I'm optimistic it'll be up and running before November.  

My list of things that I've accomplished is so small these days.  I've formatted eight books now, only have two done and ready.  Have nearly ten more to go.  Have November coming up, and a new story that is desperate to be let out into the world sooner rather than later.  I just have to hold onto my sanity a little longer and get through the weekend and everything that needs to be done before I let that particular demon out.

But a full time job, while lovely and dependable, doesn't leave much time for more than one other interest.  So, it's been something of a blessing in disguise to be plagued the last few months with back problems.  Books, therefore, have won out for the first time in my life over horses.  This might be why I finally was able to finish a Camp NaNoWriMo.  I've started several, but only November has been able to hold my attention all the way.  I have to believe I am not alone in this.

So, no one ever did respond to my previous attempts at engaging an audience.  However, I just want the great wide world to know that if anyone every identifies any of the songs I've littered throughout my very random blogs, I will hold to my bargain and send them a free book.  Keep that in mind, complete and total strangers.  

In the meantime, I hope that those who can write do. Those who can ride, do it for yourself, but do me a favor and don't tell me about it.  While I have come to terms with my current limitations, best not mention it.  I might be reduced to tears.  I think I feel a sniffle coming on...

I'll come up with something productive to say here at some point.  I'm really thinking that once I figure out how to make money publishing, I'll have to share a tip or two.  Of course, that is entirely dependent on actually making more than four dollars a month...

May we all just keep rambling on