The JOYS of Pregnancy

Posted on by Beth Hull

I’m tired of whining. Even when (I think) I’m being funny, I’m still complaining.

Well not today! Today I am going to share with you the WONDROUS WONDERS OF WONDER that are being pregnant. And I will conveniently leave out any complaining.

Joyous Wonder #1: Maternity Jeans

I’m a sweats/yoga pants girl at heart. I call my yoga pants part of my “uniform” for my “job” of writing during the first part of the day and taking care of Z during the second, rather louder, part of the day (and night). Sometimes I put my pajamas back on immediately after taking my shower. Yes, I confess all these things with absolutely NO SHAME. However, maternity jeans are the one thing other than sweats that I could wear around the house. I just told a friend that I may wear my maternity jeans in perpetuity even after the baby is born. For those of you who don’t know, maternity jeans look something like this:

I thought a half-naked blue, one-eyed alien woman would be preferable to a half-naked human woman. Let's see what kind of weird search hits I get on my blog this week.

Joyous Wonder #2: The Pregnancy Card

This is really just the special privileges a pregnant woman can get from her husband. Homes will go out at 9 p.m. to get food for me, or he’ll make special meals at my request (still waiting on those enchiladas, though…no wait, I had those. Well, I want them again. Must put in a request). Different husbands/partners may give the pregnant woman in their life different privileges with the pregnancy card. My privileges mostly amount to food and not lifting heavy things. I might get out of doing the dishes soon because my stomach’s getting too big for me to reach the faucet.

Joyous Wonder #3: Quickening

No jokes here. I freaking love feeling the baby move. And because I know this will be my last baby, I’m trying to memorize the feeling. Maverick’s more of a kicker/puncher than Z was. I mean, Z moved a bunch, but her moves were mostly stretches, like an alien foot arching across my stomach. Maverick’s, like, dancing in there or something. Anyway, it’s crazy cool, and I’ll miss it.

Joyous Wonder #4: No Dieting Allowed

I know things are different for women diagnosed with gestational diabetes. Thankfully, that’s not me (knock on wood. KNOCK ON WOOD!! I mean it. Everyone. RIGHT NOW). So if I want to have a teeny tiny salad for dinner, followed by a gigantic slice of chocolate cake for dessert, well. It’s not like I’m tracking Weight Watchers points or actually paying any attention to weight gain whatsoever. Until I start seeing my cheeks puff out (and I check, I admit, almost daily), I’m going to eat what I like. What’s amazing is it’s mostly salads that I want, not cake. (But yeah, if the cake’s there, I’ll eat that, too.)

So there you have it, The Joyous Wonders of Pregnancy. See, there are good things to it! And like I said with the fetal movement, I know it won’t last forever, and this is my last chance to enjoy it, so enjoy it I shall.

But I still feel like a Whoofle chewed up my pelvis and gave it back to me all mangled and crooked. Just sayin’.

Under the Never Sky by Veronica Rossi

Posted on by Beth Hull

The set-up: Aria comes from an enclosed city, protected from the Aether and harsh environments (and people) on the outside. Perry’s had to fight for survival his whole life.

Main characters’ goals: Aria’s goal is to find her mother (even if it means lying to her ally); Perry’s goal is to find his nephew. Their goals are pretty constant, although their methods change throughout the story as the two of them, ahem, get to know each other better.

My reaction: WOW. This is a whole new world, and, honestly, one I only want to encounter between the covers of Rossi’s books. It’s a scary place, filled with scary people – and the people in Aria’s home-pod are just as frightening as those inhabiting Perry’s world on the outside. Beyond the bad guys, though – some of the supporting cast are memorable wonderful people, and I can’t wait to read more about them! (Hellllooooo, Roar!)

Of interest to writers: Personally, I find alternating points of view difficult – not just to write, but to read. In Under the Never Sky, though, the alternating POV was really smooth. So why does it work so well here? Check out how Rossi has expertly differentiated between her characters – not only their personalities, but the differences in their diction, style, and tone.

(Third to) Bottom line: The concept alone will blow your mind. The concept coupled with great writing make this book a total winner.

Reminds me of: Incarceron by Catherine Fisher

For more on Under the Never Sky and Veronica Rossi, you can visit her personal blog here, and her blog with the YA Muses here.

Last thing, I promise: While looking for a good image of the cover, I found some of the international covers on Veronica’s blog (click here to go there). Seriously cool. I think the Dutch cover may be my favorite. Which is yours?

8 Ways to Handle Rejection

Posted on by Beth Hull

I’m going to write a bad word. Mom, stop reading.

If you’re a writer, rejection is like shit. It happens, and it always stinks. The variable is what we choose to do with that rejection. I’ve found the options are endless, and some are more constructive than others.*

[*Once again, I realize I am not the most-equipped person to hand out writing advice. However, now that I’m querying agents with my third novel, I feel moderately equipped to hand out this advice on rejection.]

1. Weep. Best done in a private setting, but I won’t judge you here.

2. Trash talk. This is also best done in a private setting, like a TOP SECRET HUSH HUSH Facebook group or something along those lines. I’ve also found that my cat is very trustworthy and never repeats a thing I say.

3. Every agent and editor says something along the lines of “this is a subjective business, and I’m sure someone else will feel differently about your horrible story.” Test that theory, I say, and query again! One writer told me that for every rejection she received, she sent out two more queries.

4. Comfort yourself in the bosoms of addictive substances, such as alcohol, chocolate, or computer solitaire.

5. Do textual analysis on the rejections. Compare them to one another, or compare multiple rejections from the same agent (for different – or drastically revised – books, I hope). I find myself obsessing over word choice and placement like I haven’t done since the first “Will you go out with me” note I received in seventh grade. (My response was yes in 4th period and then, by 6th period, no. I pray agents and editors will be kinder and less fickle than I once was.)

6a. If the agent or editor gives you feedback, thank them. And then consider their suggestions. Seriously.

6b. If the agent or editor compliments your work, take it and RUN with it. Quote it on your bathroom mirror in red lipstick. Copy and paste it into a Self-Esteem Booster document that you keep in your writing files.

7. Trust your friends and family. If they say you’re fabulous, believe them. If they offer words of comfort, accept that comfort. It’s difficult to hear NO from agents and editors, so be kind to yourself by accepting compliments and praise from everyone else.

8. Best piece of advice I’ve ever heard on rejection and querying is to immerse yourself in a new project immediately. It’ll keep you from obsessing quite so much over the project you’re querying/submitting. And will hopefully keep you from Twitter-stalking agents and editors (confession: I tried this for a couple weeks. Biggest. Waste. Of. Time).

On the bright side, it’s not (or won’t always be) all about rejection. Not for me, not for you, not for anyone. There are positives in it, too. And even if you’re getting rejection after rejection after rejection, keep plugging away at the next project. Find your passion there, not in your email inbox.

Does anyone else have ideas and tips on how to handle rejection? What works, what doesn’t?

The Cold – A Tragedy in Three Acts

Posted on by Beth Hull

Act I

The Ever-Suffering Mother isn’t suffering quite so much. She has a lifetime supply of peanut M&Ms in the cupboard, a loving husband (who buys her M&Ms) and a darling daughter, and lots of writing time during the day. But by the endof Act I, she develops a sore throat. This can’t be good.

Act II

Like any valiant heroine, she attempts to help herself through lots of naps, liquids (milkshakes count, right?), and more naps. (Medication is, given her pregnancy, pretty much out of the question. Further helping us define the meaning of “suffering.”)

Despite her valiant efforts, the sore throat has grown into a Sore Throat of Doom.

By the end of Act II the sore throat has gone away (hooray!) only to be replaced by copious amounts of snot. Act II is plagued with phegmatic and lethargic dialogue, lots of adenoidal voice-overs, mouth-breathing, and we’ll throw the World’s Shortest Rejection Time on a Short Story in there as a subplot (5 hours 11 minutes).

Act III

In Act III, the Ever-Suffering Mother overcomes the rejection, but not the snot, and the Cold replays itself for other beloved members of her family, compounding its effects through sleeplessness, irritability, and general malaise.

The End.

This is what I get for being smug.

Posted on by Beth Hull

Yesterday I hit an all-time productivity high. I tripled my page/word goal, managed to do the dishes, and even ran three errands before picking Z up at school and taking her to the park.

I bask in my super-awesomeness cape and matching lip gloss!

I was especially smug about the word count. Not wanting to brag to everyone in the whole world, I saved that info for Homes and Katy, both of whom were duly impressed. I was even contemplating a post for today on Parenting & Productivity, and how I get so much more work done after having Z than I’d ever dreamed of doing before Z. If only I knew what was in store for me.

This morning Homes and I received the 3 a.m. wake-up call. The kind that kept calling, and calling, and calling. “Daddy! Daddy! DAAAAADDDDDDDYYYY! Mommy Daddy! Mommydaddy Mommydaddy!” And then, once the caller was safely established in her cot, and the Ever-Suffering Mother and Homes safely in their Bed of Pain, the whining started.

To make a very long & painful story short, usually I sleep until 7, but today I was too pissed off.

I’ve been awake since 3:30.

On the bright side, I was able to accomplish these things, all before 7 a.m.:

  • fold laundry
  • scrub shower
  • vacuum
  • wash the dishes
  • give Z breakfast
  • pick up Z’s toys that didn’t get picked up the night before (surprise)

On the very dark and sad side, there is no way I’ll triple my writing goal today. My eyes kept closing while I tried to reach my regular writing goal.

I did reach it, though, so there.