BEA, ALA, cacti, & panic
For 7 years now, I've been pretty much an open to readers and fellow authors, so I'm seeing no reason to change that :)
Short Version: Things have been a little crazy in my corner of the world. Some of the crazy was good (my little girl graduated high school!), and some has been significantly less good (pending baby adoption fell apart because of the birth mother's drug usage AND strange drama with my daughter's bio-mother). Some was just normal (travel for work). Either way, the end result was a return to panic attacks.
Longer Version:
On the upside, my little girl (who will be 19 in September) graduated from high school. She was awarded the History excellence award. During said presentation, the upper school headmaster (who might possible be one of the best speakers I've heard) pointed out that she had taken everu single history elective AND done all the History AP courses. Did I mention that she's going to be majoring in archaeology at university? She also had her university orientation for the school, the Honors College, and registered for her first term courses. She'll start school with 39 credits already completed. I am--as is probably obvious--a VERY proud Mama.
The Monday after her graduation we set off for NYC to attend Book Expo. We brought her BFF with us, and on the first day of BEA, the girls joined another 50 people to pass out Carnival masks. (Daughter, her bff, & me in PW photo surrounded by masked carnival folks). I signed that day (which was a bit of a madhouse) and did a panel (pic of that at the same link). My signing was even more intense than the usual BEA craziness. There were other work things--as there always are in NY--but there was also the super-fun part: taking Daughter & her bff to see Once on Broadway. THAT was fabulous.
During this whole window, the stress of drama over the adoption falling apart was exacerbated by a call en route to my daughter's awards (Friday before BEA) when we got a call asking if we would be open to adopting twins. I spent the graduation weekend and BEA waiting for a possible call to report to Florida to collect twin boys. Wednesday, at intermission for Once, I learned that the birth mother had decided to go with "a family with no children" so we were back to waiting. [NOTE: The way the adoption process works is that there are birth mothers who are show the profiles of adopting families matching their criteria. They pick one and a "match" is made. We were matched to Holly previously but that match ended over drugs in late May.]
In the midst of all of this, I had to let my assistant go in a situation too bizarre to explain.
My stress levels are a bit high these days. I realized just how much when I just about had a panic attack at BEA. I used to get them, but it's been almost 5 years since I've had one.
Post-BEA, I returned home to get some work done-
1. reading and editing some amazing stories for the Rags & Bones anthology I'm co-editing with Tim Pratt.
2. going over the galley pages for the Shards & Ashes altho I'm co-editing with Kelley Armstrong (out in Feb 2013)
3. implementing notes from my adult editor (Kate Nintzel) on The Arrivals (my new adult book, out fall 2013)
4. doing copyedits on Loki's Wolves (Blackwell Pages Book 1), the middle grade I co-authored with Kelley Armstrong.
THAT stuff was all fun though. I love the writing, the edits, the revision... gods, I love revision like I love candy. It's almost unhealthy how much I enjoy the tweaking of texts.
Then came ALA . . . where those panic attacks I'd been tried to beat back with sheer willpower and meditation knocked me on my ass. I walked out of the Harper breakfast. I tried to get it under control, walked for 20 min, calmed down, & returned . . . only to leave again after 5 minutes. I was furious with myself, but my editor and the School & Library folks at Harper were awesome. They decided to add some measures at the signing that day to help me. They banned pictures, and they kept the line back so only one person at a time was next to me. (They did that second part at BEA too.) I did fine, although I had to stop midway through for a moment to take my inhaler and then apparently clutched my pen tightly enough that it ruptured and bled all over my hand.
After the signing, I escaped to the outside where my family (who all came to ALA) and friends were waiting.
On the other hand, the Coffee Klatch the next morning was panic free. The Coffee Klatch was, quite possibly, also the most awesome part of all of BEA & ALA. Small group conversation with librarians? Pretty high on my list of things i love. Signings aren't as much fun for me. I say hi, sign, and maybe get a couple sentences of conversation. It feels so fleeting. I could've done the Coffee Klatch for several more hours . . .
It's also easier to do. I do well with panels and with ordered events. "Mingle" events are my version of hell. If I'm a bad egg and there were to be a personal hell just for me, it would be endless cocktail parties. I HATE them. The breakfast, the floor of ALA & BEA, the Harper cocktail party at BEA (which I also left) are the sorts of places that I've struggled with for years. Crowds without order? It makes me tense. Typically, I manage. This year, I didn't.
Since ALA & BEA, I've seen comments online (& heard them in person) that it was unfair that pictures weren't allowed at my signing at ALA and that I seemed a little "out of it" at BEA. An innate sense of obstinacy in me makes me want to stomp my foot and say it's MY business, but not answering this makes me feel like there's something wrong with wanting space (there isn't) or that panic attacks are something to be ashamed of (they're not). So here's the footnote: I absolutely hate having my picture taken, but for years, I've smiled and said "it's ok" because I felt like I should. I always love talking to people, but I often hate being touched or hugged or having my picture taken. I keep it under control most of the time, but this year, I seem not to be succeeding at that.
I know that I'm far from the only author who feels like this. We're just people with weird quirks and flaws, so please know that it's not an insult when an author wants a little space or not being photographed. Sometimes, we don't want to have to explain why.
Anyhow . . . I left ALA and went to Joshua Tree. I love the Mojave. An hour in the desolate-yet-thriving beauty that is the desert and I felt like every stress, every panic, had fled. We hiked. I took hundreds of pictures. I met a sweet wise man who told me how to find the bighorn (I did) and then how to find a cache of hidden petroglyphs and pictographs (I did). Being in the desert was a kind of heaven that I cherished. I was up every day at 6am to hit the trails, & I think I might be even more in love with the Mojave than I was before this trip. Stress will pass. It always does. In the meantime, I filled myself up with desert peace (& have an ocean escape next month). Time in the purity of nature fixes whatever ails me.
Short Version: Things have been a little crazy in my corner of the world. Some of the crazy was good (my little girl graduated high school!), and some has been significantly less good (pending baby adoption fell apart because of the birth mother's drug usage AND strange drama with my daughter's bio-mother). Some was just normal (travel for work). Either way, the end result was a return to panic attacks.
Longer Version:
On the upside, my little girl (who will be 19 in September) graduated from high school. She was awarded the History excellence award. During said presentation, the upper school headmaster (who might possible be one of the best speakers I've heard) pointed out that she had taken everu single history elective AND done all the History AP courses. Did I mention that she's going to be majoring in archaeology at university? She also had her university orientation for the school, the Honors College, and registered for her first term courses. She'll start school with 39 credits already completed. I am--as is probably obvious--a VERY proud Mama.
The Monday after her graduation we set off for NYC to attend Book Expo. We brought her BFF with us, and on the first day of BEA, the girls joined another 50 people to pass out Carnival masks. (Daughter, her bff, & me in PW photo surrounded by masked carnival folks). I signed that day (which was a bit of a madhouse) and did a panel (pic of that at the same link). My signing was even more intense than the usual BEA craziness. There were other work things--as there always are in NY--but there was also the super-fun part: taking Daughter & her bff to see Once on Broadway. THAT was fabulous.
During this whole window, the stress of drama over the adoption falling apart was exacerbated by a call en route to my daughter's awards (Friday before BEA) when we got a call asking if we would be open to adopting twins. I spent the graduation weekend and BEA waiting for a possible call to report to Florida to collect twin boys. Wednesday, at intermission for Once, I learned that the birth mother had decided to go with "a family with no children" so we were back to waiting. [NOTE: The way the adoption process works is that there are birth mothers who are show the profiles of adopting families matching their criteria. They pick one and a "match" is made. We were matched to Holly previously but that match ended over drugs in late May.]
In the midst of all of this, I had to let my assistant go in a situation too bizarre to explain.
My stress levels are a bit high these days. I realized just how much when I just about had a panic attack at BEA. I used to get them, but it's been almost 5 years since I've had one.
Post-BEA, I returned home to get some work done-
1. reading and editing some amazing stories for the Rags & Bones anthology I'm co-editing with Tim Pratt.
2. going over the galley pages for the Shards & Ashes altho I'm co-editing with Kelley Armstrong (out in Feb 2013)
3. implementing notes from my adult editor (Kate Nintzel) on The Arrivals (my new adult book, out fall 2013)
4. doing copyedits on Loki's Wolves (Blackwell Pages Book 1), the middle grade I co-authored with Kelley Armstrong.
THAT stuff was all fun though. I love the writing, the edits, the revision... gods, I love revision like I love candy. It's almost unhealthy how much I enjoy the tweaking of texts.
Then came ALA . . . where those panic attacks I'd been tried to beat back with sheer willpower and meditation knocked me on my ass. I walked out of the Harper breakfast. I tried to get it under control, walked for 20 min, calmed down, & returned . . . only to leave again after 5 minutes. I was furious with myself, but my editor and the School & Library folks at Harper were awesome. They decided to add some measures at the signing that day to help me. They banned pictures, and they kept the line back so only one person at a time was next to me. (They did that second part at BEA too.) I did fine, although I had to stop midway through for a moment to take my inhaler and then apparently clutched my pen tightly enough that it ruptured and bled all over my hand.
After the signing, I escaped to the outside where my family (who all came to ALA) and friends were waiting.
On the other hand, the Coffee Klatch the next morning was panic free. The Coffee Klatch was, quite possibly, also the most awesome part of all of BEA & ALA. Small group conversation with librarians? Pretty high on my list of things i love. Signings aren't as much fun for me. I say hi, sign, and maybe get a couple sentences of conversation. It feels so fleeting. I could've done the Coffee Klatch for several more hours . . .
It's also easier to do. I do well with panels and with ordered events. "Mingle" events are my version of hell. If I'm a bad egg and there were to be a personal hell just for me, it would be endless cocktail parties. I HATE them. The breakfast, the floor of ALA & BEA, the Harper cocktail party at BEA (which I also left) are the sorts of places that I've struggled with for years. Crowds without order? It makes me tense. Typically, I manage. This year, I didn't.
Since ALA & BEA, I've seen comments online (& heard them in person) that it was unfair that pictures weren't allowed at my signing at ALA and that I seemed a little "out of it" at BEA. An innate sense of obstinacy in me makes me want to stomp my foot and say it's MY business, but not answering this makes me feel like there's something wrong with wanting space (there isn't) or that panic attacks are something to be ashamed of (they're not). So here's the footnote: I absolutely hate having my picture taken, but for years, I've smiled and said "it's ok" because I felt like I should. I always love talking to people, but I often hate being touched or hugged or having my picture taken. I keep it under control most of the time, but this year, I seem not to be succeeding at that.
I know that I'm far from the only author who feels like this. We're just people with weird quirks and flaws, so please know that it's not an insult when an author wants a little space or not being photographed. Sometimes, we don't want to have to explain why.
Anyhow . . . I left ALA and went to Joshua Tree. I love the Mojave. An hour in the desolate-yet-thriving beauty that is the desert and I felt like every stress, every panic, had fled. We hiked. I took hundreds of pictures. I met a sweet wise man who told me how to find the bighorn (I did) and then how to find a cache of hidden petroglyphs and pictographs (I did). Being in the desert was a kind of heaven that I cherished. I was up every day at 6am to hit the trails, & I think I might be even more in love with the Mojave than I was before this trip. Stress will pass. It always does. In the meantime, I filled myself up with desert peace (& have an ocean escape next month). Time in the purity of nature fixes whatever ails me.