May 21, 2014

What I learned from writing full-time for 2 years

2 years. Can I you believe it? I can't believe it. On May 15th 2014 it's been 2 years since I started writing full-time. Seems it was only yesterday, and at the same time compared to 20, 30, 40 years of writing other authors have under their belts, 2 years is nothing. Nothing. However. I shall be pleased. Immensely. To inform you. That I learned a great deal. A great great deal, in fact. In fact, what I learned is so great and vast and incongruous and munificent, that it made me abdicate my chaste crown of claustrophobic cliches that had been squeezing my poor brain in their clutches like a victorious truant squeezes the panoply of his textbooks in the obstinate glee, having escaped the schoolmaster and doing hopscotch to the nearest ice cream parlor to guzzle a sizable portion of sugary froth, while his schoolmates suffer the inundation of educational dogmas. Oy. Sorry. I got carried away a little. 2 weeks without writing, without writing my book, I mean. You understand. It's hard. Anyway. Are you are ready for the big reveal? Did your gallant jowls begin to jumble? Good. Here it goes. The thing I learned after writing for 2 years is... *drumroll*

TRUST YOURSELF.

This is it. Thank you for your time. Goodbye. Oh, and don't forget your slippers.

May 7, 2014

Writer's authority and why you have to have it

by Ksenia Anske

I'm the boss of you, and don't tell me I'm not. You come to me, for me to be the boss of you. You're a reader. You search for authority, for that voice that can sweep you off your feet, swallow you whole, make you raise your head from the book, hours later, wondering what hit you. You look for it, in every book. You open it, you hope for it. It's why you read. And here I am, a writer. I'm at your mercy. You can toss my book into a swamp, you can use it as a door stopper. You can burn it. Worst of all, you can open it, glance at a sentence or two, and never read it.

You have authority over me.

Yet I have authority over you.

That is, if I have it. If I do, I will catch you with my net. I won't let you go until you're exhausted, until your eyes hurt and you start sticking matches between your eyelids to keep them open. You will walk with my book into traffic. Cars will stop inches from you, honk at you, you won't hear. You will tumble into open manholes and continue reading. My words are just your palate. My sentences your relish. My stories your tin of canned sardines because you loved canned sardines since you were five. You are under my authority.

April 5, 2014

On fear and writing

by Ksenia Anske

I'm afraid. I write every day and I'm scared shitless. I'm scared about everything. Will I be able to write a good book, a book good enough, good enough in my eyes to share it with the world? Will my readers like it? Will strangers who never heard about me like it? I'm afraid every day and I write every day, and I'm still afraid. It never goes away. My 10 year old son has started readingROSEHEAD, my 2nd novel, and I have yet to publish it on other sites besides Amazon, like I promised, and put up a free ebook file on my site, like I promised, and when my son tells me that this book is the best he has read all year, I'm afraid again. I'm afraid he tells me that because I'm his mom and he loves me and just wants to say nice things to me. I asked him. I asked, would you have said it about this book if it wasn't mine? He said, yes. Still, I'm afraid. He recommended it to his friend in school, and his mom told me today that he is reading it and enjoying it, and my son told me that he said his friend likes it. A LOT. Still, I'm afraid. I want to ask, are you sure? Really? REALLY???