tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42028853773778425212024-03-05T00:28:00.247-08:00Ali Off The MarkAlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.comBlogger121125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-28321738214300861972022-11-14T10:40:00.004-08:002022-11-14T10:40:58.573-08:00Audiobook experiment complete!<p>It's here! My audiobook narrating <i>debut</i>! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArS6aDq2H1YTmZoRGngzRPk35Z4cav9Ul3BEWLdZxmsuoo708TlEUeCeLRrAtY4mbfe--wQjkz10dyU_K_srLpP7DeoDT5R4hhW-6vAoGOkoyKMx5NiKDs4dSsQYnHIfK26Pzix8FiZvcP5tNgZ094fF822uhyQDcAvlXC4KVO8Nud0VXKek-DC_P/s1062/EnvyCompletedAudio%20copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="852" data-original-width="1062" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjArS6aDq2H1YTmZoRGngzRPk35Z4cav9Ul3BEWLdZxmsuoo708TlEUeCeLRrAtY4mbfe--wQjkz10dyU_K_srLpP7DeoDT5R4hhW-6vAoGOkoyKMx5NiKDs4dSsQYnHIfK26Pzix8FiZvcP5tNgZ094fF822uhyQDcAvlXC4KVO8Nud0VXKek-DC_P/w200-h161/EnvyCompletedAudio%20copy.png" width="200" /></a></div><p><a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/Envy-and-the-Geek-Audiobook/B0BLG6DYQB">https://www.audible.com/pd/Envy-and-the-Geek-Audiobook/B0BLG6DYQB</a></p><p>I wish I had some dramatic or poignant story to go with this final chapter of the saga. But no, it was pretty much just plodding work until complete. Let me tell you about it anyway. After I'd recorded the whole thing, I went through and edited the whole thing, marking areas I needed to re-record (or "pickups" in narrator lingo). I duplicated the type of spreadsheet Lessa uses to track pickups (in case you haven't read my post <a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/2021/05/the-making-of-audiobook-or-two.html">The making of an Audiobook... or two</a>, Lessa is the amazing way-way-better-than-I'll-ever-be narrator of my other books). </p><p>Re-recording bits was both harder and easier than I'd expected. It didn't take a ton of time, but there were certain sections I'd marked to re-record that I banged my head against fruitlessly. It turns out my ear is more discerning than my mouth is talented (that's a weird sentence). Basically, I had to accept that I couldn't actually improve everything I wanted to improve, and some "fix this" sections were left as-is. My New England accent, for example, is fah from pahfect (har har). I modeled it after my own family—listening to an old recording of my grandfather to get in the right head-space (and vowel-space). But although I'm a born Mass-Hole, I naturally sound Minnesota Nice. And without professional voice training, there's only so much I can do to curb that, doncha know?</p><p>When I'd finished my own record-edit-re-record process, I had a couple people listen to the whole thing with an ear out for mistakes I'd missed (they found some). I even got this pro narrator I play hockey with to spot-check it and give me a little audio engineering advice (you can find the best peole at hockey). After I fixed all the things, I re-exported and uploaded the files. Within about two weeks they were processed and approved by ACX, and boom! Audiobook! Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy... except that I was pretty sick of lemons by the end and glad to be done. That's probably why it took yet another two weeks to get myself to write up this final blog post on the subject.</p><p>But it's done! Woohoo! And I hope people will listen to it... I think. I am glad that I did it. It was a great learning process and I honestly look forward to doing it again one day. But not until I write a memoir so that I can narrate using something more in my wheelhouse: my own normal voice. In the meantime, enjoy the audiobook of Envy and the Geek and/or this outtake reel of me fucking up, burping, and talking to myself. </p><p><br /></p><iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/vpKqRgNNgrQ" title="YouTube video player" width="560"></iframe>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-19479664919391541782022-07-26T11:28:00.004-07:002022-07-26T11:28:55.890-07:00Audiobook Experiment Part 3: Progress and sh*t!<p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’ve hit a major milestone in making Envy and the Geek into an audiobook: I finished a full first-pass recording! In other words: I’ve read the whole damn book aloud, into a mic. And I honestly don't think I could have done much better. Of course, there is always room for improvement, but I'm satisfied that I did my current best.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">Does that mean I'm done and ready to share it with the world? Oh <i>hell</i> no! I have started editing (9 chapters down 16 to go!) but when I'm done with that I will still have to go back for pickups, another round of proofing, and then the final editing/exporting before it can be presented to the powers that be (aka ACX). So there is much left to be done, but the progress I've made feels substantial and I am proud of it. So there.</span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-b9b3459e-7fff-5715-4e1a-5dd4a79143cf"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have to give a shout-out to my two biggest motivators: my wife and, well, myself. First, my wonderful wife, Kristin. She's been super encouraging. She claims to actually enjoy listening to me read my books! (What?!) And since she hadn’t read Envy yet, once she started listening, she was always chomping at the bit for me to get more done so that she could hear it. That was such positive motivation. Thanks, love!</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My other motivator was me, but not in the positive sense, more of the "omg l suck, wtf" sense. Unfortunately, as I read, I found things I wanted to <i>change</i>. Ughhhh. The plague of the self-published author. Naturally, I wanted to make the changes right away for my print readers, but there was no point in updating the manuscript until I had read through the whole damn thing enough times to get the recordings finished. So those are finished and the fixes have been made and hopefully, by the time my next convention rolls around (CONvergence in August), I will have a stock of copies that will feel more polished and shiny. </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">(For the record, there are no substantial changes. Just a bunch of little bullshit.)</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am optimistic that—if I can prod myself into a few more super productive days—I’ll actually finish this audiobook. Fortunately, the editing is easy, if tedious. Unfortunately, Narrator-Ali is kind of an asshole to Tech-Ali. Narrator-Ali thinks “fix it in post” is a good idea. Professionals and people who are nice to the audio techs should not do this, but as I am my own audio tech, I get to be a jerk. So now my “fuck you, Tech-Ali, suck it up and edit out my bullshit” chickens are coming home to roost. But that's okay; on the bright side, I am compiling an entertaining blooper reel. Maybe I'll share it sometime. Stay tuned!</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdQu-C1mevccA4OojPyXu7_6N1wMZimwisGPLuYPzmFr_U4ffDEQE6nifO79WIOSzrj6dyZk4FUo8qwB1FotGXQcPcHPcYXHxr9ULuvRLPX5LvzG7wyPdJr_xF42ey2FV7HdJC3RY9fQSXe1ZYNF5en89nHC9-Qu3_1z4q6p9UXpoS1GE2OWTH8eZ_/s1410/AudiobookAdventures%20copy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1410" data-original-width="1410" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdQu-C1mevccA4OojPyXu7_6N1wMZimwisGPLuYPzmFr_U4ffDEQE6nifO79WIOSzrj6dyZk4FUo8qwB1FotGXQcPcHPcYXHxr9ULuvRLPX5LvzG7wyPdJr_xF42ey2FV7HdJC3RY9fQSXe1ZYNF5en89nHC9-Qu3_1z4q6p9UXpoS1GE2OWTH8eZ_/s320/AudiobookAdventures%20copy.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><p></p><div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-55768271512366371552022-05-17T09:32:00.003-07:002022-05-17T09:32:35.057-07:00Audiobook Experiment: Learning what I need to learn<p>Part of any new endeavor (or just life in general) is figuring out what you know and what you don't know, and trying to plan for the things you don't know that you don't know. I knew I'd be able to nail the technical aspect of making audio recordings. Once my booth was set up I did a quick proof of concept and on my third try poking at the settings, I got it sorted out and uploaded a file that passed the ACX tech check. </p><p>Now for the things I don't know. Namely how to be a narrator. Like, with my voice. I've been learning—listening to audiobooks, watching videos, reading tips and tricks—and practicing. I thought coming up with distinct voices for each character would be the thing that really tested me, but the more I practice the more I think "narrator voice" is my biggest challenge.</p><p>I am damn good at "mom reading," aka reading short books to children with all the appropriate emotion for Piggy in the Puddle or Fox in Socks (I rock Fox in Socks). And I even pass muster when reading longer books aloud to my kids. They laugh at the funny parts and cry when things get sad. The book comes alive for them. But when it comes to <i>recorded</i> narration, I feel like my natural reading voice is a bit dull and certainly too fast. No problem, I tell myself, I just have to put in more conscious effort. But as it turns out, if I think <i>too</i> hard about my voice, I forget how human emotions work. Then shit comes out filled with misplaced melodrama (One character DRAMATICALLY absent-mindedly rolls a chair from side to side! Another stomps off with all the fire and passion of... Eyore). </p><p>This is going to take practice and preparation to fix, I think. I hope. So the next step is to do more marking up of the text to help me find the right emotional emphasises and then read, record, and listen, read, record, and listen, over and over until either it sounds half-decent (at least good enough to share with people who can offer critiques) or I give up. I don't want to give up. So tomorrow it's back into the booth for me. Wish me luck!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWqwKeSeNMXcHoxhsszvfoSB_oUrCVfIujMEVIZVeVCbGXzkUryZVRlqEeF4w4mOzOHJclTDa8mV_P4FIA9aeqip46trCA1dXo-_JjF5mLC_CTItt2mqNc9hvoh5Rc1reS08cIoNW48OIRngfleVcVJgEfQUGu9ckIb8MqOYhi6P_DmouodzUIn6P/s2944/20220509_103310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2208" data-original-width="2944" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilWqwKeSeNMXcHoxhsszvfoSB_oUrCVfIujMEVIZVeVCbGXzkUryZVRlqEeF4w4mOzOHJclTDa8mV_P4FIA9aeqip46trCA1dXo-_JjF5mLC_CTItt2mqNc9hvoh5Rc1reS08cIoNW48OIRngfleVcVJgEfQUGu9ckIb8MqOYhi6P_DmouodzUIn6P/s320/20220509_103310.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I moved a light into my booth so I can see in there now.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><br /></p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-64753534843776101342022-05-01T11:18:00.002-07:002022-05-01T11:24:59.029-07:00Audiobook Experiment - Step One: Set-up<p>I am taking a break from writing to try tackling a whole new aspect of the book world: narrating! I will be narrating (or at least making a good ol' college try) my alter-ego, <a href="https://www.nataliefalkenwrath.com/" target="_blank">Natalie Falkenwrath's</a> latest book: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1952057116" target="_blank">Envy and the Geek</a>. When working on other books, I'd recorded myself reading them, making little amateur audiobooks I'd shared with my partners. So I knew I didn't TOTALLY suck at narration. So I decided to go for it for real. And I thought it would be fun to document and share my progress as I stumble my way through the audiobook world from a new perspective. </p><p>The first step was to create a good set-up for making decent recordings. This means the right software, hardware, and location to make a quality audio file. Luckily I have a background in audio editing from my previous life as an academic technologist, so I had a sense of what I wanted/needed. For my birthday I asked for a Yeti USB mic and my family obliged. I love this thing. I used it a lot at my old job and was giddy as a schoolgirl to finally have one of my own. I already had a decent Mac laptop so hardware = CHECK!</p><p>For software, I could have rolled with Audacity. I'm quite familiar with it from the old days. It is free and pretty fucking powerful. But my spoiled butt also got to expand my Adobe license (another birthday gift), so I now also have Audition. I'd never used Audition before, but because I know other audio and video editing software, including Adobe Premiere, it felt slick and intuitive right off the bat. And digging into it has been fun and full of nostalgia for my old career. Software, BOOM.</p><p>Now location. My house is challenging in a few ways. We have lots of wide-open spaces with hardwood floors, which is lovely but also the ass-opposite of what you want for good sound recording. And we live in the flight path of a small airport, which makes being near any window iffy at best (especially those on the top floor where my room and my partner's office are). The one room in the house with no windows is RIGHT next to the furnace/AC/etc, so that was quickly eliminated. I know a lot of folks use their closets, but I don't have a walk-in closet so that was out. This left me with the choice of settling for the best of bad options or building a sound booth. Ethan was happy to jump in and help, and in a few short hours, I had a PVC-framed, quilt-walled sound booth that fits perfectly in a back basement hallway nook between the kids' books and art supplies. The sound is nice and dead inside. And it's cozy. Location achieved!</p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR387vIYBTWC1WOTzK_0EDieAOMnPGKdULzFjGamOQukhqVm6PxRThgOjDhBIHBPReWmesJTBO6flTkRvSDOyB9QayJ_fPVLYnSBoMPFB9Ocgvl3caHNVfR9HaNWTk46wBXvaKZKH_o5o-SkOOK0q4p1Io2YGSqVbrQoRAQkrKTgIGFm8X7BYzNUKv/s1816/booth-inside.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="microphone and computer in a dark room" border="0" data-original-height="1816" data-original-width="1816" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR387vIYBTWC1WOTzK_0EDieAOMnPGKdULzFjGamOQukhqVm6PxRThgOjDhBIHBPReWmesJTBO6flTkRvSDOyB9QayJ_fPVLYnSBoMPFB9Ocgvl3caHNVfR9HaNWTk46wBXvaKZKH_o5o-SkOOK0q4p1Io2YGSqVbrQoRAQkrKTgIGFm8X7BYzNUKv/w200-h200/booth-inside.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sound booth Interior<br />("It's fuckin' dark in here.")</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuB5-1xg6HgtIsb5Ffu8a7Xo_rxvXZJt1-92z08LkAG6ahLAflw3nZDFM5NrS7nMQbobWOpLw3tFdhWTUHmq3cWlsgBHe8FPDmd9ahY9Yg7dbOfamDzZFUrzuPYIKboFi0KnPiiUKL3iSNcZ6tOt_yD9rcVlHqVliBOQK6l6bKdaOXXWhQQdld8sHR/s1816/Booth-outside.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="soundbooth exterior" border="0" data-original-height="1816" data-original-width="1816" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuB5-1xg6HgtIsb5Ffu8a7Xo_rxvXZJt1-92z08LkAG6ahLAflw3nZDFM5NrS7nMQbobWOpLw3tFdhWTUHmq3cWlsgBHe8FPDmd9ahY9Yg7dbOfamDzZFUrzuPYIKboFi0KnPiiUKL3iSNcZ6tOt_yD9rcVlHqVliBOQK6l6bKdaOXXWhQQdld8sHR/w200-h200/Booth-outside.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sound booth Exterior</td></tr></tbody></table></div><br /><p></p><p>So now I'm all set up. Tune in next episode for Step 2: Proof of Concept!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-88267495328166658362021-10-28T08:11:00.002-07:002021-10-28T08:11:34.989-07:00The Joy of Sharing Books<p>Maybe my social circle is extra nerdy, but I swear no Facebook or Twitter post gets more responses than one asking for book recommendations. And it makes sense. I mean, who doesn't love giving book recommendations? Passing on a book I loved to another person is one of my favorite things in the world. And that goes double when I'm passing it on to my children. When they were little, that meant reading them all my favorite childhood storybooks, <i>Blueberries for Sal</i>, <i>A is for Annabelle</i>, <i>Ferdinand the Bull</i>, so much Dr. Seus... That was a good time. The early reader stage was less fun for me. My kids weren't really into the books aimed at that reading level. Sure, they went through a bit of a <i>Magic Treehouse</i> phase but I was a <i>Boxcar Children</i> kid.</p><p>When they started getting hooked on YA it was exciting to see them excited for reading, but that category has grown and changed since I was a kid—or at least it seems to have. There are so many new YA series and I honestly had a hard time figuring out which of the books I read as a "young adult" fit that category. All I could think of was <i>The Babysitter's Club</i> (which my youngest has read in graphic novel form), and <i>Nancy Drew</i>. I loved <i>Nancy Drew</i> but the editions I read were of my mother's generation and they failed to catch my kids' attention (the new ones are an abomination, sorry not sorry). After that, I came up blank.</p><p>Enter Google! A quick google search for older YA came up with many more familiar titles than I was expecting. A large chunk of them are things I read in school (<i>Tuck Everlasting</i>, <i>To Kill a Mockingbird</i>). Not to say those books weren't good, but I often found the over-examination and slow pace of reading in along with the class spoiled the enjoyment of books for me. In any case, most of those didn't make it to my adult bookshelf. </p><p>Three books the internet seems to deem YA have stood out as ones that really stuck with me (literally and figuratively) are <i>Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry</i>, <i>The Giver</i>, and <i>A Tree Grows in Brooklyn</i>. I've already shared the first two with my kids. The Giver, in particular, went over quite well. I hope one day they pick up <i>A Tree Grows in Brooklyn</i>. I loved that book. Some people are on the fence as to whether <i>Ender's Game</i> is YA. If it counts, it certainly gets a spot in my top YA list. </p><p>But who even cares about these labels, my kids are old enough to dip into adult books! How cool is that? There are so many books I can pass along. I know they won't love all the books I loved. Neither of them are as voracious readers as I was, so they probably won't read most of them. And I know there are new books they will discover that I have never read. But hot damn, I get a kick out of sharing books that come not only from hazy childhood memories but also from more recent reads. Right now my oldest is reading <i>Let's Pretend This Never Happened</i> by Jenny Lawson, and that's so cool to me, as is my youngest starting <i>The Restaurant at the End of the Universe</i> after enjoying <i>The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy</i>. </p><p>The best part is that this leg of the book-sharing journey is both new and never-ending. The number of books appropriate for them will only grow over time and the older they get the more books they'll be able to pass back to me. It's like the great circle of life... of books. And it's excellent.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2P3jJzKRXzPshM2UvHKnBOa4T2YOut8VbZDNYYXcbg3MAiUV0cfrGOCpsCDKYl_ryq2Ew48Ld-2Q0ROoSaa-tStq0aDhiSGRguodivjDBxeAgmJHuoocwIKl_wmFL0jeL7ouBod5flRo/s940/BookJoy.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="940" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2P3jJzKRXzPshM2UvHKnBOa4T2YOut8VbZDNYYXcbg3MAiUV0cfrGOCpsCDKYl_ryq2Ew48Ld-2Q0ROoSaa-tStq0aDhiSGRguodivjDBxeAgmJHuoocwIKl_wmFL0jeL7ouBod5flRo/s320/BookJoy.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-42751680524741128162021-09-08T09:54:00.000-07:002021-09-08T09:54:41.497-07:00Take (a few more) Shots<p>Anytime a book is published there are things that don't make the final print. That doesn't mean those details "don't count" or that the work was for nothing. I think the strongest stories and characters contain a depth beyond what makes it to the printed page. To celebrate the release of the third Teammates book, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Teammates-Full-Strength-Alison-Sommer/dp/1952057051" target="_blank">Full Strength</a>, I want to share a few insights and cut scenes from the previous books. There are no real "spoilers" in the post, but there are in the linked chapters.</p><p>When making notes to my narrator on Take Shots, I said, "idk if it can come through in the narration but the contrast of how [Fitz] starts the evening so stupid with happiness should contrast how that happiness falls off a cliff, hitting all the emotional rocks on the way down." And I think that's a really apt metaphor for how Fitz's life feels in book two. It's a hard book. But that's what makes it the most important to me. And that's also what makes book three so incredibly cathartic. If Fitz ends Take Shots at the bottom of a rocky emotional canyon, Full Strength is where she starts to climb back up.</p><p>Everybody has their emotional canyons in life. And they don't usually follow the classic "<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dramatic_structure#Freytag's_pyramid" target="_blank">Freytag's Pyramid</a>" story-telling model that we learn in school. Life isn't set up for the exact path of Exposition, Rising Action, Climax, Falling Action, Resolution. Different parts of life and experience intertwine. There are deeper reasons behind our actions than simple reactions to a single "inciting incident." One thing I strive for in my writing is to show the complexity of my characters' lives. </p><p>For Fitz, her story has three major prongs: her team, her friends, and her husband. Situations with her husband impact her team, her friendships impact her relationship with her husband, and so forth. But there are other factors that impact why she does what she does that are relegated to "background detail" status, things like her faith, her family and up-bringing, those early years with Tom when he was the boyfriend of her dreams. The first of the cut chapters I want to share takes place during Take Shots but gives a little more insight into Fitz's upbringing and early years with Tom.</p><p></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/p/fitz-thanksgiving-in-nc.html">Cut Chapter: Fitz's Thanksgiving in North Carolina</a></p></blockquote><p></p><p>There's only so much a writer can cram into one book. But trust me, there is so much more behind each of the characters than makes it to the page. Here are a few random facts about Tessa you might never read about in a published book: </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Tessa's last name is White </li><li>Her family ancestry includes Dakota on her dad's side and German on her mom's</li><li>Her older brother lives in the San Francisco Bay area in California and does physics research at UC Berkeley</li><li>Tessa grew up deer and duck hunting with her dad </li></ul>I do have a little story about Tessa's experience hunting, but it might still make it into book 4, so it's not going up here. Instead I'm going to share a deleted scene from around the same time as the Fitz one above. Tessa's story arc with her parents is one that I know has touched some of my readers on a deep personal level. And it will continue into book four, but for now, here's a bit from early on in that journey (that I'm <i>totally</i> not mostly excited to share because of a subtle dirty joke).<div><br /></div><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/p/tessa-black-friday.html">Cut Chapter: Black Friday with Tessa and her mom</a> </div></blockquote><p>This post has gotten long enough so I will come back to Michelle and Dawn at a later date. Michelle's deleted chapter is full of fun Michelle-style rage and that Dawn's is hella geeky, so tune later for that!</p><div><div><br /></div><p></p></div>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-58264860222822693572021-09-02T13:19:00.000-07:002021-09-02T13:19:47.356-07:00To every Cat there is a season<p>This month has been incredibly full. The low point was when Corky, Kristin's super sweet 17 year old cat had to be put down. Pets are family and Corky was an extra special member of ours, especially for Kristin who had Corky basically her entire adult life. We're at that age, Kristin, Ethan, and I where the pets we got as young adults are now departing this world. I lost my cat Arwen a couple years ago. Ethan and I had adopted Arwen and Eowyn together when we were 22 and 20 respectively. Now all that's left is Eowyn. She's old, deaf, loud as hell, persistently attached to Ethan's lap... and she's the last of an era. </p><p>But as some chapters of our lives come to an end, new ones begin. For Kristin and I, and the whole family really, the next chapter goes by the names Lola and River, our two new kittens. Lola is a tortoiseshell, just like Corky was. She's cute and energetic and has been trying to eat my hand while I type this post. She's Kristin's cat. River is a gray tabby whose favorite activities seems to be bolting from one room to another and climbing up into my boxspring. She's mine. </p><p>Lola and River will never replace Corky and Arwen, but they add something to our lives that was lost when we lost our old lady kitties. And they came along at the start of our own new chapter, less than two weeks before our wedding. It seems crazy—bringing home two new kittens just days before our wedding and on the same day my third book, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09C6MB6XD" target="_blank">Teammates: Full Strength</a>, came out. Especially when you consider we already have two other cats (the aforementioned old lady Eowyn, and our kids' cat Hermione aka The Big Fat Fluff) and a dog (Bones). But in a way, that's part of what makes it special. It's a new season for us, and I think it's going to be lovely.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOAELcgCZ34JLDa4BS_tDi_rFhwnr_UJh02aWsqOPY8avcyQv0Q1rN_H4eS94miiyTEmhesnqr9i1qclos9LWcxvoNffyc2yAjDbp_t1sd98EdJ2NYOVw9ywXWTzJM8o9RmbYHnZdkW6w/s1672/kittens20210901_135717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1651" data-original-width="1672" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOAELcgCZ34JLDa4BS_tDi_rFhwnr_UJh02aWsqOPY8avcyQv0Q1rN_H4eS94miiyTEmhesnqr9i1qclos9LWcxvoNffyc2yAjDbp_t1sd98EdJ2NYOVw9ywXWTzJM8o9RmbYHnZdkW6w/s320/kittens20210901_135717.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">See more kitty pics on Instagram <a href="https://www.instagram.com/alirosesommer/" target="_blank">@alirosesommer</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-28367785243636310492021-08-23T09:11:00.000-07:002021-08-23T09:11:55.966-07:00Partially hospitalized... at home (and it helped!)<p>The pandemic turned our lives upside-down. And for many like me that lead to massive increases in mental health symptoms. When I lost my connection to friends, teammates, baristas, and bartenders who had been a part of my daily routine, it hit me <i>hard</i>. I gain energy from social interactions with the people I know and am comfortable with. I still had two partners at home but they work all day, and the void of losing everybody else was deeply felt. My depression went from a shadow over my shoulder—ever-present but often manageable—to a looming darkness overhead that threatened to swallow me whole. I had more and more days where nothing felt worth living for. The pain of existing was more than I felt equipped to bear. Self-harm and suicide were often on my mind. In short, it sucked hard. And it scared my partners.</p><p>Because they are wonderful, caring people, Kristin and Ethan worked to get me help beyond what my psychiatrist could give me—help in the form of a partial hospitalization program (PHP for short). In "regular life" PHP would have meant spending my days, 8-4, in the hospital and my evenings and nights at home. During a pandemic PHP meant spending that time in my room on zoom calls with therapists of every ilk, nurses, doctors, and most importantly <i>other patients</i>. </p><p>Maybe it isn't the other patients that make the experience positive for others, but for me these people were my world. Tears are <i>rolling</i> down my cheeks as I try to write this post. I will write about the logistics, what I learned, and all that in the following paragraphs. Due to confidentiality I can't say very much about the amazing people who went through this journey with me. Nonetheless, I want to take a moment to say thank you to them. Thank you for your willingness to be venerable. Thank you for your words of encouragement and acceptance. Thank you for the little things—your puppies, kitties, artwork, hobbies, totally "off-topic" stories... All the things that made us more than pixels on a screen. I also want to say an extra special thank you those who've stayed in touch. Getting your texts, or even just seeing you on FB or Instagram, means so much to me. Thank, you thank you, thank you... for existing and being so honestly and wholly <i>you</i>. I was so goddamn lucky to have y'all in my PHP experience.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixK9iQ9qLBvCW68q9nLIvt6399odrOhosJ84qp8r5LnJvqsSOehEw4-zwkkBWJ0vWtdyrUeNlej3bmJTNkUzMXBZKCbteGFmnOa0CLKeT5vei9Y8ioQXYhRc5WDSA12ZXt8z2w4O2cZz8/s1889/Zoom2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1494" data-original-width="1889" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixK9iQ9qLBvCW68q9nLIvt6399odrOhosJ84qp8r5LnJvqsSOehEw4-zwkkBWJ0vWtdyrUeNlej3bmJTNkUzMXBZKCbteGFmnOa0CLKeT5vei9Y8ioQXYhRc5WDSA12ZXt8z2w4O2cZz8/w200-h158/Zoom2.png" width="200" /></a></div><p>So what exactly did I do in PHP? I shared a lot. Every day would start with a check-in:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>What is your goal for today? </li><li>What might be a barrier to that goal? </li><li>What is something you're proud of/grateful for? </li><li>How can we support you? </li><li>Would you like to take some processing time right now?</li></ul><p></p><p>I think that it doing this sort of check-in every day in real life could be useful, if even only with yourself. I journal and through PHP I learned some tools that have helped make that journaling even more helpful to my mental health. GLAD (or the longer version, GO GLADLY) is one easy one to do and share. Basically you just write down something you're <b>G</b>rateful for, something you <b>L</b>earned, something you <b>A</b>ccomplished, and something you <b>D</b>elighted in. A lot of the tools we learned were ways to be more introspective, to put words to our feelings and be aware of where we are and what we need to get where we want to be. And there were also skills—actions for self-soothing, calming, or otherwise bringing ourselves down from high anxiety. And actions for "activation," things to try and jump-start you out of that low place where depression lurks, waiting for a chance to pull you further down.</p><p>I can't say that it fixed me. It helped. It didn't cure my depression (or anxiety), but it gave me more ways to cope. One of my favorites is my deck of cards. Following the lead of one of the most amazing fellow patients, I now have a deck of cards. And on different cards are different activities. Some are calming some are activating. They include things like count your breaths for one minute, splash cold water on your face, go for a walk, take a shower, do the electric slide... Some are more useful than others and I've added to my deck since the end of PHP. It sits next to my bed and is one of the most tangible reminders of the fact that <i>I have tools</i>. When things feel hopeless, just holding that deck can be a comfort.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCNZ2nA5OHzBA2qLhn8zlTC-jGnrJWZsZaIppWnsJmPY4gfv4lTYbNFNas2eNBPixYrsZ98Fl0sajOeAFxLgP0yd-Y1X92-un-dpIvSP8_NXBTubi9EMRhvNvj3xF261YLRw53dgDc_c/s1816/PHP-cards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1816" data-original-width="1816" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCNZ2nA5OHzBA2qLhn8zlTC-jGnrJWZsZaIppWnsJmPY4gfv4lTYbNFNas2eNBPixYrsZ98Fl0sajOeAFxLgP0yd-Y1X92-un-dpIvSP8_NXBTubi9EMRhvNvj3xF261YLRw53dgDc_c/w200-h200/PHP-cards.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><p>If all this sounds like hokey tricks and nonsense, I understand. I think a few years ago I would have rolled my eyes <i>hard</i> at some of the lessons. And I actually did nope out of a few things during the program. But I was desperate enough to try almost anything. And I'm glad I did. I wish I could go back. The program ended long ago but I still have the skills, worksheets, and friends I made there. Some days I wish I could go back so much it hurts. But missing what I had in PHP, as painful as that can be, is hell of a lot better than wishing I didn't exist at all.</p><p>I followed up PHP with an all-too-short stint in intensive outpatient therapy (basically PHP-light) until insurance got crabby ('Merica!) and now I have a personal therapist in addition to my psychiatrist. It's not perfect but it's <i>something</i>.</p><p>If you are depressed—<i>especially</i> if you think about hurting yourself—please reach out to somebody, even if it's a stranger on a helpline. People who can help you are out there. It doesn't have to be so bleak all the time. Really. </p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-66225418822712583662021-08-16T16:42:00.018-07:002021-08-17T07:13:05.519-07:00Fan-fiction: The gateway drug to writing<p>I don't remember my first time writing fanfic (or reading it, for that matter). I have to assume it was Star Wars. In junior high, I wrote this <i>amazing</i> (read: mega cringe) story where Luke Skywalker crash-lands on a sparsely populated planet. He is, of course, injured and therefore must be cared for by a local farmer and her beautiful daughter, Antikee. Antikee was my own alter ego (*shocking*). And if you knew anything about 13-year-old Alison, you can rightfully surmise that Antikee and Luke totally boinked. </p><p>Sadly I don't have that story anymore. I do, however, have a nice collection of my teenage fanfic—mostly X-Files stories. There is a super-painful-to-read X-Files/Indiana Jones cross-over with this paragraph in which I demonstrate just how much I sucked at spelling when I was young (I still suck, but not <i>quite</i> this bad). </p><p></p><blockquote>Now Indiana proseeded with caution. He looked where her stepped and was careful not to snagg any wires. Without furthur mishapes he made it to the chamber he had been seeking. Inside this cavern sat a small statue on a stone pedastool. The stature had been hand carved in pipestone. It was the last known piece of it’s kind that had not been taken illiaglly and sold to “collectors” for profit. It was the kind of thing that belonged in a museum. </blockquote><p></p>I never finished that particular story (I like to think that's why it's in such dire need of proofreading). None of it had seen the light of day until now. But I did finish and share many a fanfic. I even published several stories online to fanfic pages long since lost in time. Apparently this is very common among writers. <div><br /></div><div>I haven't written fanfic in a while, but now that my kids are into it, it's on my mind more often than it has been in years. What is it about fanfic that is so alluring to readers and writers alike? I think much of it is the comfort of familiar characters and worlds. Writers will talk ad nauseam about how much they love world-building or character development. But with fanfic you lean into preexisting worlds and fully-fleshed out characters. You can write dramatic interpersonal situations without spending the time building the backstory needed to make those situations make any sort of sense. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was a big writer of Mulder/Scully romance. When I go back and read some of the things I'd written, now that I am so far removed from "X-Phile" life, things that made me swoon back then fall completely flat. If you aren't immersed in the sexual and romantic tension between Mulder and Scully you don't really <i>feel</i> the release of that tension—that "ahhh, finally" sensation when those two sexy FBI agents set aside pretense and get down to it. </div><div><br /></div><div>The ability to rely on the works of others makes fanfic a fantastic gateway into writing. If you're paying attention, it might also give you some clues as to the type of writing you might be best suited for. Yes, I wrote primarily sci-fi fanfic, but I didn't do much to add to the fantastical, paranormal, or extra-terrestrial landscape. Naw. I just wanted to see my favorite characters make out. So why did it take me so long to realize that I really should be writing romance or at least stories with romantic components?</div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't truly put two and two together until I was writing fanfic of On Ice (yes, fanfic of my own damn book) and "shipping" my characters. But looking back, it should have been so clear. And it makes me wonder what other writers have gotten out of their fanfic adventures.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYmQ_VKqKH2f294IIPxQZYwseY1yeI9p7SyFipqOciEdIEZMGYf1f043ypoivAGc82imPg28RLpswGn46rlR201RopMy65EXpXRZQ4-KbHoBgS_ifLkaIW68_Czj781ZCYFCbesCLssk/s640/fanfic-wps.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNYmQ_VKqKH2f294IIPxQZYwseY1yeI9p7SyFipqOciEdIEZMGYf1f043ypoivAGc82imPg28RLpswGn46rlR201RopMy65EXpXRZQ4-KbHoBgS_ifLkaIW68_Czj781ZCYFCbesCLssk/w400-h300/fanfic-wps.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(I liked to rock it old school on our early 90s IBM)</div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-1795363242446105012021-08-10T06:45:00.002-07:002021-08-12T10:19:20.586-07:00Labels, Labels, Labels<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheW9ReLCUD0gJyC5zHCgp0B2VQuhQUkyCtcStSx6mml9AfSTkVGadwnPbOzaSFABlHeHMHmeTCoHoASoUuWQ6soMFbSsEiW05FRF9cbpJT4UFVDlQDYl3nc8HRVFYjPbO-G5f7h_DM3jc/s1080/labels.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheW9ReLCUD0gJyC5zHCgp0B2VQuhQUkyCtcStSx6mml9AfSTkVGadwnPbOzaSFABlHeHMHmeTCoHoASoUuWQ6soMFbSsEiW05FRF9cbpJT4UFVDlQDYl3nc8HRVFYjPbO-G5f7h_DM3jc/w200-h200/labels.png" width="200" /></a></div><p>If you spend any time online these days, especially in LGBTQ+ communities, I'm sure you'll run across a new term or label. And in any discussion of such labels, invariably there will be somebody who asks, "why do we need all these labels?" </p><p>I saw a post the other morning: Understanding Asexual Microlabels by <a href="https://www.instagram.com/the.patchwork.ace" target="_blank">@the.patchwork.ace</a>, shared by my good friend <a href="https://www.justingrays.org/my-blog" target="_blank">Justin Grays</a>. On the last slide, it said something that I think needs a serious signal boost beyond the labels discussed in that post.</p><p></p><blockquote>"These labels exist to help define you, not put you into a box. ... The label you use is nobody else's choice. Likewise, even if you think the label is pointless personally, other people may find it helpful in understanding themselves."</blockquote><p>This spoke to me and got me thinking about recent conversations I've had about labels. Here are my two key takeaways: </p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Nobody should label you but you, and that includes being free to choose <i>no</i> label </li><li>Nobody should get to invalidate a label you apply to yourself </li></ol><p></p><p>Now, unfortunately, I feel compelled to stop here and say anybody who wants to interject into this conversation any sort of bad-faith "but does that mean I can label myself as a dog and blah blah blah" or other such bullshit can fuck right off now.</p><p>On point #1: We, as a society, looooooove to label shit. Maybe it's even innately human. IDK. It can be hella helpful (something I'll get to in point #2). Yet if you require people to label themselves, especially with limited multiple-choice options, there's a considerable margin for fucking it up. Making people pick who they are from a set list designed by somebody who knows nothing about them is a recipe for over-simplification and invalidation. </p><p>Here's an example: We were signing up for those Greenlight credit cards for our tween/teens. They seem great because they're designed to help young people figure out money, yadda, yadda, yadda. The kids were stoked. But then they had to pick a gender. Male or female. They use they/them pronouns. It was uncomfortable and upsetting. Although in the end they selected their assigned-at-birth gender and moved on, it's kind of the tip of the iceberg on these sorts of things. If you're going to ask for people to choose their race/gender/sexuality/etc/andsoforth from a multiple-choice list, I think it would be an improvement if those lists included "prefer not to say" or "my identity is not on this list" (I pick that over the simple "other" because othering is a whole... <i>other</i> can of worms.)</p><p>Forcing labels on people can and does cause harm. Mislabeling somebody or forcing them to pick between options that don't fit can cause serious mental trauma. Let's try to cut that out. As a society. But let's not throw the baby out with the bathwater here and say nobody should ever use labels! Let's instead move on to...</p><p>Point #2: Labels can help people. Finding a label that fits you is validating and can help you understand yourself better. A label can be a way of realizing you're not alone. That "there's a word for people like me?" moment can be life-changing, soul-soothing. It can help you navigate the world.</p><p>My example: This is a bit less heavy than gender or sexuality (you can read about my struggles accepting my bisexuality in the post "Come out, come out, wherever I am), but it's a personal example that meant something to me. "Are you an extrovert or an introvert?" I grew up tagged as an introvert. I was a shy kid. I liked to read and would easily get lost in my own imagination. But I always wanted friends. I never wanted to be a loner. Yeah, sometimes I wanted to be left alone, but I didn't want to be left out. I got less and less shy as I got older. Still socially awkward but no longer hiding-under-my-desk-with-a-book shy. And the older I got, the less and less the introvert label spoke to me. I like going out with friends. I like parties and crowds and meeting new people... If I'm in the right mood. But the label of extrovert never was one that felt like it truly fit right with me either. Bits of the introvert label still applied. It was very frustrating when introvert vs extrovert was used as a get-to-know-you question at conferences or even in stupid online quizzes like "which type of fish would you be" or whatever. Then a few years ago I learned the word <a href="https://www.dictionary.com/browse/ambivert" target="_blank">ambivert</a> (somebody between introvert and extrovert). I finally found my label! It was like a breath of fresh air. Yeah, the quizzes are still annoying (see point #1) but when people ask me—when I can <i>talk</i> about it rather than just checking a box—I have something to say that <i>fits</i> me. And that's nice. </p><p>Now, I can see the argument (my brain is *excellent* at finding arguments) that if there were no labels for extrovert and introvert in the first place I wouldn't have had that struggle to begin with. Fair enough. There may even be some fancy Latin term for that or something. But like I said before, humans love to label shit, including ourselves. The feeling of being seen and finding community can have an incredibly positive impact, I see it every day in my online queer communities. And labels can help facilitate that. But only really when people can explore them and assign them to themselves. </p><p></p> Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-45394461187259858322021-08-03T11:46:00.000-07:002021-08-03T11:46:45.574-07:00In Defense of Self-Publishing<p>A little bit ago I heard an analogy that has really stuck with me. When a band tries to make it in the music industry, they don't produce one record and then sit at home, shopping it around to music reps. They go on tour, they play small venues, they put their music out online, they try to build a following. In the process of trying to make it, they are sharing their work with the world. It's out there. It may never end up on a top-40 station, but people hear it.</p><p>So then why is it that the conventional wisdom for writers is to write your book and then start querying agents without sharing your work outside of a few beta-readers? I know there are those agents and publishers who won't take on anybody who has already self-published. But if nobody publishes your book, then nobody's reading it. And that's sad to me. </p><p>When I first started writing I was adamantly against self-publishing the Teammates series in any way. However, after I completed the books, I wanted to do <i>something</i> while I was seeking an agent. That's how Benton House Publishing and Natalie Falkenwrath were born. I wrote Lust in the Stacks over NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writers Month). I had friends read it and used all the spelling/grammar checkers I could get my hands on to proof it. I made the cover art with the free version of Canva and formatted it in Word. Ethan helped me set up a publishing house to publish under, and we published it. </p><p>I made websites, social media accounts, etc to promote it myself, I talked to bookstores. And I hired a narrator through ACX to narrate it—that was the only real cost to me, aside from ordering proof copies. It was definitely a learning process. But in the end I put out a book that hundreds of people have read. It's gotten good reviews, for the most part (not going to please everybody). And I'm in the black. That's right, as of this moment Natalie has made more money than she spent. I will be sinking all that money back into hiring Lessa to narrate the second Natalie book, Glutton for you, but I feel confident it will be worth it. </p><p>So after a year of rejections for On Ice, I started taking steps to have Benton House Publishing channel all that new experience into publishing the books that own my heart and soul. It was a difficult decision to make and even now I feel a bit embarrassed about it. But you know what? I worked hard to do it right, and I think it shows. I hired an editor, I commissioned professional artwork for the covers, and doubled my efforts to promote it. It will take me longer to recoup the costs of those choices, but it was worth it. People are reading them. </p><p>I would be remiss not to acknowledge the fact that it is an incredible privilege that I have the means to do this. And it certainly isn't something that is feasible for everybody. I had to have the time and front money to make it work. And it's not <i>easy</i>. Especially if you want to put out a product that is really solid. There are some incredibly terrible self-published books out there. Books without any discernable grammar, covers that look like they were made on MS Paint circa 1999, books that even the <i>premise</i> makes you have a "wft" moment. I hope I never produce one of those. But there are also some amazing books out there that are self-published. And there are authors who started there who later did get picked up by mainstream publishers. I mean, look at The Martian—it started on Wattpad. </p><p>I like that self-publishing is so readily available these days. And I think it's okay if I never become a big-name novelist. If you go into writing for fame and fortune, I have bad news for you. But if you go into it to express yourself and share your art with others, the news is all good. What matters to me is that people are reading what I'm writing and enjoying it. So I'm going to keep on writing. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2l7tJAS2IudCaCpqnm53IEL7uMA7FRqbYfW2Q-e1sifmhlQDO9MuG5yDVogul4ZBGWisVzTjuKgzzrq6hyPakBXKGBFN5HWf5dSACJM9NSQD8_kI2E08wsyoUb9s5Au5jJ3ekQBh0Mqw/s1400/Benton.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="1400" height="68" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2l7tJAS2IudCaCpqnm53IEL7uMA7FRqbYfW2Q-e1sifmhlQDO9MuG5yDVogul4ZBGWisVzTjuKgzzrq6hyPakBXKGBFN5HWf5dSACJM9NSQD8_kI2E08wsyoUb9s5Au5jJ3ekQBh0Mqw/w68-h68/Benton.png" width="68" /></a></div><h3 style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">If you're interested in learning more about self-publishing or collaborating with Benton House Publishing to self-publish, please DM me through my Twitter @alioffthemark</span></span> </h3><p></p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-75299937233500090322021-07-26T08:02:00.000-07:002021-07-26T08:02:12.365-07:00I Can't Do That, It's Covered In Spiders<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0RrB4GWAafA_z_YII2XXmJaTSQHZYEZOuZvllhIu3fE5rFEXWh3QAfmI2sTolEPPBs94ylVVKXy7qmyVJTc-1jjwpy_lUdk8XNKQ70bk8eI3WGwLW8a07NNa-bPmUIKetQSr_t3Mg-W0/s1080/Covered+in.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0RrB4GWAafA_z_YII2XXmJaTSQHZYEZOuZvllhIu3fE5rFEXWh3QAfmI2sTolEPPBs94ylVVKXy7qmyVJTc-1jjwpy_lUdk8XNKQ70bk8eI3WGwLW8a07NNa-bPmUIKetQSr_t3Mg-W0/w320-h320/Covered+in.png" width="320" /></a></div><p>Anxiety can make some of the most basic, simple tasks seem impossible, even downright frightening. It doesn't make any sense. There is no rhyme or reason behind it. One metaphor I like to use to both describe it and identify it as an anxiety response is "that thing is covered in spiders." Need to make a phone call? Can't, it's covered in spiders. Put on pants? No, those are filled with spiders.</p><p>It's a solid metaphor for me because I hate spiders. They freak me out. Even when I know they're a harmless sort of spider. So when I think about an everyday task and it fills me with that same mixture of discomfort and fear, I know it's the anxiety talking. I think "oh, no, that's scary, icky; don't touch, don't even look" is a pretty common human reaction to spiders. That is not a normal human reaction to refilling a prescription. However for me, prescription refilling, for whatever reason, is usually covered in spiders. </p><p>This is not the same as executive disfunction. Executive dysfunction is knowing you should do a thing, and wanting to do that thing, but not being able to. Not out of some baseless unknown fear, but just because you <i>can't</i>. Maybe you can't get started, maybe you can't stay on track, maybe you just get routinely side-tracked. This can crop up due to depression or as an effect of ADHD and it's annoying AF. </p><p>Depression is a whole other can of worms that I'm not going to go into. But I will say that the non-depressed version of executive dysfunction can be worse than the anxiety spiders, in a way. If I can't get something done due to executive dysfunction, I probably won't ask for help. Because I know I can do it. I <i>should</i> be able to do it. So why ask for help. I'm sure I'll be able to do it any minute now... any minute. Or just not right now. I'll do it later. But I believe I can and will do it. Eventually. That's like why I haven't taken my meds yet this morning. I will, just in a second. After I do this thing. (I'm on thing 3, but it's okay, I'll do it after this).</p><p>Once I've identified something as being blocked by that covered-in-spiders feeling, then I can find a workaround. Can't wear pants? Wear a skirt! Can't do the dishes? Leave the kitchen! Or I can ask for help. Asking, "Hey, can you call in my prescription refill?" is about as embarrassing but doable as asking, "Hey, can you get this spider out of the shower?" And I am fortunate enough to have lovely supportive people in my life who will help when they can and won't berate me or make me feel bad for my inexplicable fear of making phone calls. I'm also fortunate enough that my anxiety is managed fairly well these days. So the spider infestations are not as frequent as they once were. And when something does set off my anxiety, I can tell myself that the spiders won't be there forever. Get help, get through the day, and pay it forward in the future. </p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-58856397708965544722021-07-20T09:01:00.000-07:002021-07-20T09:01:18.017-07:00Polyamorous and EngagedPolyamory means many different things to many different people. This is what it means to me: It means that love is infinite. It’s not pie. You can’t run out of love. Just as a person can love all their children parentally, or their closest friends platonically, so can a person love more than one partner romantically. <div><br /></div><div>This September I will be marrying my wonderful, amazing, beautiful girlfriend Kristin. This post, however, is not about how we met or fell in love (<a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/2020/08/the-story-of-us.html" target="_blank">you can read our story here</a>). This is a simple post to give you a little insight into our polyam life. Because for some reason it astounds and confuses people that I could love and make a lifelong commitment to her while maintaining my commitment to my husband, Ethan. </div><div><br /></div><div>First, I want to say that I love her as deeply as I have ever loved. She makes me swoon; she makes me giggle. She comforts me when I am low, as I attempt to do for her. She is a fantastic partner. And she loves me. And I will always feel lucky as hell that she does. I also love Ethan; he too is an amazing partner. We've been together almost two decades. He is so deeply imbeded in my heart that I can't imagine life without him. I can't imagine life without either of them, honestly. And by some miracle, they seem to feel the same about me. </div><div><br /></div><div>We all live together: Kristin, Ethan, me, and our kids. We have a fairly normal day-to-day life, just with three adults. We take turns cooking dinner and doing the dishes. We draw straws to see who needs to make the kids take showers. We clean litter boxes, take out the trash, mow the lawn. They both go to normal "nine-to-five" jobs and I write and do the daytime mom thing. On some nights we have family dinners and other nights we let the kids eat downstairs in the "kid cave" while the adults eat in front of some TV show, like Hell’s Kitchen or Loki. </div><div><br /></div><div>Love is infinite, as I've said. Time, however, is a limited resource—time, attention, and energy can all be difficult to manage in any relationship. In a polyam relationship, everything is magnified. It takes conscious effort and—I'm going to be honest—it isn't always easy. Communication between all of us is key to making sure we are all getting our needs met and feeling seen. We work to balance our schedules so that I have time alone with each of them. And although Kristin and Ethan don’t have a romantic relationship, they have time together too (usually while I’m at hockey). Their relationship is special in a different way (something I will not define for them). And the work it takes to maintain all these relationships is worth it; what we have is wonderful. Our lives are full of love, support, and caring.</div><div><br /></div><div>This fall, Kristin and I will be getting married. It will not be a legal wedding. But neither were any gay weddings not all that long ago in this country. We are committing to each other in front of family and friends. There will be flowers, food, drinks, music… and I have the prettiest wedding dress. But most important of all, I will get to share my feelings for Kristin with those people in my life closest to us. </div><div><br /></div><div>So that's it. This is how my life works as a polyamorous individual with two committed partners. This way of living and loving is not for everybody, I know. But it works for us; we’re all on board. I hope those who care about us can be happy for us.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyNHatRSSS6KJBXCXzna-xY6fgRalKo3bI6HgU0qu9DWuPfcd_OrMOcx-jzNWP5V4QIW7JUD59_CsguonJ0jVXf5DxcyW0g9GY3c1EYvZDvNDO7PEn8LgvhVItL4kZSjpjmCNHOqQMNQ/s2640/IMG_20200322_230136_225.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1980" data-original-width="2640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyNHatRSSS6KJBXCXzna-xY6fgRalKo3bI6HgU0qu9DWuPfcd_OrMOcx-jzNWP5V4QIW7JUD59_CsguonJ0jVXf5DxcyW0g9GY3c1EYvZDvNDO7PEn8LgvhVItL4kZSjpjmCNHOqQMNQ/s320/IMG_20200322_230136_225.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-44115167861030973462021-07-14T14:19:00.005-07:002021-07-14T14:19:52.664-07:00I'm Done Overthinking: The Blogging Meta Post.<p>I am going to publish this. No matter how it turns out. I've been wanting to blog more for a while now. But I haven't. So in true Alison fashion, I started to overthink it. I wrote and left unfinished dozens of posts. Why can't I just hit "publish?"</p><p>Theory 1: The pandemic has killed my sense of humor and my ability to write lighthearted things. And this just wouldn't be Ali Off the Mark if it wasn't at least a <i>little</i> funny. This is true to an extent. I think covid really did deal my "funny" a rough blow. But that's a pretty thin excuse not to write *anything.* Especially since one of the things I'd like to share is my experience with depression and the partial hospitalization program I went through this past winter.</p><p>Theory 2: I have not only lost my ability to write humor, but the pandemic has also affected my ability to be vulnerable, and this blog is predicated on my willingness to be open. I think this theory also has merit. Covid has forced us all to come face-to-face with some scary realities that left us feeling vulnerable against our will. With all going on, it's only natural to want to protect and control whatever we can—to hide from the world to avoid more hurt. Blogging isn't hiding. But really, no writing is. You just can't hide and try to be a writer at the same time so even if this theory is right, I need to get over it.</p><p>Theory 3: I'm just too busy writing books to write a blog. Hahaha. I mean, I should be. But I'm not. Book writing and blog writing come from different parts of my brain. This theory is total bullshit. Get over yourself, Alison.</p><p>Theory 4: So I've established that I WANT to write, even though it's uncomfortable, and that I should be able to do so here without tanking my book progress. So what the fuck is it? Is it the fact that this blog will never be quite like it was when it first started? I mean, back in the day I used to write about my kids a lot. But the little ones ain't so little anymore and they are awesome people, they just don't say those "darndest" things like they once did. And the way the platform deals with images isn't what it used to be. And blogging just isn't as much of a "thing" as it was in 2013. And... and... and... STOP. This is the most weak-sauce set of excuses not to write.</p><p>Conclusion: Stop over-thinking and just start posting. I'm not promising beautiful, polished prose. But I am going to try to entertain you. I'll even use Grammarly to keep it from being a complete mess. And as a result, I will have an outlet for writing that's something more structured than journaling and less structured than writing fiction: blogging! So hello, world. Let's do this thing. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXhWEvms70j6o77MmsIpw6U05FNDi2X6uvWF_ySgEZMS-211JTxU1pnMpMeWNIZwXCVCkw8fDi_hlUs-hUscIGQPE8yINZZSK1_nyGLPHkzi7fBehTeXs1CM0sqXHfNJk3Lbt6RcUn_o/s200/TwittPic.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="150" data-original-width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXhWEvms70j6o77MmsIpw6U05FNDi2X6uvWF_ySgEZMS-211JTxU1pnMpMeWNIZwXCVCkw8fDi_hlUs-hUscIGQPE8yINZZSK1_nyGLPHkzi7fBehTeXs1CM0sqXHfNJk3Lbt6RcUn_o/s0/TwittPic.png" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-43693721759600601112021-07-04T10:00:00.000-07:002021-07-04T10:00:12.299-07:00Fourth of July bonus chapter<p>As my "celebration" of the Fourth of July this year, I am publishing a "bonus" chapter from the Teammates series. This chapter takes place between books 1 (On Ice) and 2 (Take Shots). I don't recommend reading it unless you've already read On Ice. </p><p>Fair warning, it's not all happy fun times. It deals with one of the hardest things Michelle went through during On Ice. But it holds meaning to me (and, of course, to Michelle). I hope it speaks to others as well.</p><p>This is the first in a series of extra chapters and deleted scenes that I will be releasing now and then. After they are released I will be linking to them on the main <a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/p/teammates-series.html">Teammates Series</a> page.</p><h4 style="text-align: left;">Enjoy the chapter here: <a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/p/michelle-july-4th-2018.html">Michelle — July 4th, 2018</a></h4>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-19880122736426540732021-05-26T12:16:00.000-07:002021-05-26T12:16:25.094-07:00The making of an Audiobook... or two<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij38IHVuhnvtKbGcvK4X6IwyaX-l2LAT9al8WNgQYDd1enaXb8JVWF2U-gUqlcITpQlJbtrojhPQhK9tOj6p4A0oSEVqHEOXUYuxAa1my75AhOyKOhQIisfz7S-bhBJ6KD4RC_3JWtJjA/s1000/Screen+Shot+2021-05-26+at+12.22.48+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="1000" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij38IHVuhnvtKbGcvK4X6IwyaX-l2LAT9al8WNgQYDd1enaXb8JVWF2U-gUqlcITpQlJbtrojhPQhK9tOj6p4A0oSEVqHEOXUYuxAa1my75AhOyKOhQIisfz7S-bhBJ6KD4RC_3JWtJjA/s320/Screen+Shot+2021-05-26+at+12.22.48+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My second audiobook just came out and I thought it might be fun to share a little bit about the process. I worked with Lessa Lamb. She is not only crazy talented but she gets my jokes and appreciates my absurd geeky references ("I am a leaf on the wind, watch how I eat all the Cheetos.") Before she narrates something of mine, I give her the manuscript as a google doc and she comments on it as she reads. She's brilliant at finding little typos the editor missed, but the best part is when she leaves reaction comments to the story itself. If I had my way, all readers would give me reaction comments. It is <i>literally</i> my favorite thing in the world. I've had beta-readers do this too and it makes me beyond happy.<br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwEsYfVcvUnT1pYwQOFcIWkYa4DyFCyjFcxUS6jGX2j1ZW638Bp0GFpjVkmBOxWi8JiZbun9QehGhIzxyc09zNT9ZVB6GVzIaSScLNL9nI245L2arTzYWB9I5ZmMwCceaxcJGJYAKapY/s1014/Screen+Shot+2021-05-26+at+12.24.15+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="660" data-original-width="1014" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirwEsYfVcvUnT1pYwQOFcIWkYa4DyFCyjFcxUS6jGX2j1ZW638Bp0GFpjVkmBOxWi8JiZbun9QehGhIzxyc09zNT9ZVB6GVzIaSScLNL9nI245L2arTzYWB9I5ZmMwCceaxcJGJYAKapY/s320/Screen+Shot+2021-05-26+at+12.24.15+PM.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The google doc also gives me a place to add notes about how a line should be read ("it's more of a rolled eye fuck you than a pointed fuck you fuck you"), more details about the background of the scene, or what it's foreshadowing (hehe). These notes (hopefully) help her be in the right mental space when she does the narration. And that's what Lessa is KILLER at, being in the character's emotional space when recording a scene. I know it can be brutal, but it's what makes her so amazing. I'm not gonna lie, there are some hard times in these books for all of the main characters. Lessa brings those emotions alive in the audiobooks. She's made me cry and I <i>wrote</i> the damn thing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Anyway, I was talking about the process... After we've had our little comment-fest on the doc we have a video chat (or three) to talk about character voices and just touch base with one another. She's really easy to talk to and it honestly feels like working with a friend. I am, as Fitz would say #blessed to work with such a cool person (which I almost don't want to say because I don't want any other authors taking more of her time; I want her all to myself. lol.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After all this prep, Lessa hops in the booth and works her magic. Her sound guy goes over the files for technical mistakes and then pops them into the shared drive for me to listen to. I get to comment and decide which technical mistakes are worth changing and which lines I'd like redone for more... tonal purposes. I love this part too, although I feel bad every time I ask for a change. I'm pretty sure I was insufferable for the first book. These characters are my own little horcruxes; they mean a lot and it was hard to relinquish some control over them during this process. But Lessa was hella cool about it and I think I was much less of a pain in the ass during the second book.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Then Lessa goes in and re-records bits. We track it all on a nice little spreadsheet (seriously how did people <i>function</i> before google drive?) so that everybody knows what's going on. When it's done and the sound guy has done his magic it gets uploaded where I officially approve it before it moves on to be approved by ACX. And boom! That's it! Now my words and Lessa's magic voice are available for the world to hear. Literally. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now the fun part is over (both of the process and this post). Here comes the worst part: <i>marketing</i>. AKA making sure people <i>do</i> listen to it. Marketing is my <i>least</i> favorite thing in the writing world. But ACX helps by giving me <b>promo codes!</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>So here's the deal, my friends: if you have a platform to promote me, I have free copies of the audiobooks available for you! I appreciate each like, comment, and share. DM me on twitter @alioffthemark if you're interested.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBpsRKOpzXwcjBq1QuY1PDIiAoUk-qY-7EJtOES4DT1MEIu_8pMxsKTmGdaPBKW7k7Vvc_eC9KERpKxihfAEMIS7ZhbTVPRHS_nMFOdxBQOqrpnIK4Yb4v04VxjCG0U-IIXsO2T2BiFd8/s1440/TakeShotsAudiobook.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1440" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBpsRKOpzXwcjBq1QuY1PDIiAoUk-qY-7EJtOES4DT1MEIu_8pMxsKTmGdaPBKW7k7Vvc_eC9KERpKxihfAEMIS7ZhbTVPRHS_nMFOdxBQOqrpnIK4Yb4v04VxjCG0U-IIXsO2T2BiFd8/w233-h233/TakeShotsAudiobook.jpeg" width="233" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-65338143439178593732021-04-13T09:43:00.002-07:002021-04-13T18:07:57.540-07:00All the Updates!<p> I had forgotten I wrote this, so pretend it got posted like two months ago, okay?</p><p>I have been struggling hardcore with depression lately. I was already being treated for anxiety and depression before the onset of the covid pandemic, but the complete disruption to daily life and prolonged unknowingness has plunged me deeper into the darkness that is depression. This has made being "productive" in any way very difficult. However! There is light. Therapy is giving me hope and the Teammates train is still chugging along. (I give mad props to "Past Ali" for setting me up pretty well there).</p><p>On Ice has gotten good reviews and was recently <a href="https://chicklitcafe.com/2021/01/12/teammates-on-ice-by-alison-sommer-book-review/" target="_blank">reviewed by Chick Lit Café</a>, here's just a snippet: </p><p></p><blockquote>Teammates: On Ice by Alison Sommer is an action-packed book created to excite and entertain. It is complete with drama, intrigue and dynamic relationships that really speak to the modern reader. Even if you don’t understand a single thing about hockey, you are going to love this book.</blockquote><p> And the fantastic and talented <a href="https://www.lessalamb.com/" target="_blank">Lessa Lamb</a> has brought On Ice to life in the <a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/Teammates-On-Ice-Audiobook/B08VDSXBKZ" target="_blank">Audible audiobook version</a>. I am so impressed with her. I've read the books aloud a million times but never got Fitz's voice to sound right coming out of my mouth. And I am absolutely <i>in love</i> with her rendition of Tessa. She reads with so much emotion she got <i>me</i> to tear up! And I wrote it! That's impressive. I hope you'll check it out.</p><p>Last major book update: that the second book in the series <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08PW6RFQ4">Teammates: Take Shots</a> is coming out next month! This is a little hard for me because I haven't been able to get as amped up and ready for its release as it deserves due to the depression. I <i>love</i> Take Shots. It really takes the reader through the wringer with these women. It gives me all the feels. Look for it online and in stores March 10th, 2021! (Happy birthday to me!) Take a moment to appreciate the beautiful cover by the talented <a href="https://www.markovicpredrag.com/" target="_blank">Predrag Markovic</a>. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCsRlul6z7OKuEDHfoFnasJ-_vrYoD0vCNKUnzati0mWeVcpQdpobz1OeMjPcNkQvfFbgXf3uOEA9_jHF4LPYR4VJ8hn_WBheI-s53555ai4wXCKb2PvheI2YaEkdQGqV1vwfsPumTi1M/s4000/3d+book.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2667" data-original-width="4000" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCsRlul6z7OKuEDHfoFnasJ-_vrYoD0vCNKUnzati0mWeVcpQdpobz1OeMjPcNkQvfFbgXf3uOEA9_jHF4LPYR4VJ8hn_WBheI-s53555ai4wXCKb2PvheI2YaEkdQGqV1vwfsPumTi1M/w400-h266/3d+book.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p><p></p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-82009778992501528002020-09-17T07:59:00.001-07:002020-09-20T06:40:52.330-07:00On Ice on sale!<p>My book, <a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/p/teammates-series.html" target="_blank">Teammates: On Ice</a> (you may have heard me mention it one or two <i>million</i> times) comes out September 20th, 2020. That's only <i>three</i> days away! I've been working toward this moment for two years and I'm nervous as <i>fuck</i>. But also more excited than words can express. The book is good. And it's the first in a series. Once I'm done writing this blog post I'll be going back to revising book 3. </p><p>Do me a favor, lovely people... You see, I don't have a big marketing team, so I'm relying heavily on social media and word of mouth. So after you read the book, leave a review, recommend it to your friends, ask your local libraries and bookstores to carry it. I make basically no money off paper copies sold at small bookstores unless I work directly with them, and even then it's less than through Amazon or B&N but <i>that's okay</i>. I didn't write this book to get rich. I wrote it because the stories it tells are deeply personal and important to me. </p><p>On Ice is not a book about hockey, it's a book about people. These people just happen to come together through hockey. You don't need to be a hockey person to like this book. If you'd enjoy reading about four badass women challenging the patriarchy and each other while throwing around a few 'fucks' and the occasional Firefly reference, then this is the book for you.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC5_mWlmTKAtkYOZ1LyHOneY82NDwyPXGMwdciXAVJNJq9548Cz54P2AsoVt5aGl2o05yllE3saLUDJRPYk2SkjfdjpbhM3XdlTpyLCq1-mcaZhMS9tZz6wUhy_E9rFZb5ZQyCkkqP3x4/s545/Cover+photo.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="545" data-original-width="368" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC5_mWlmTKAtkYOZ1LyHOneY82NDwyPXGMwdciXAVJNJq9548Cz54P2AsoVt5aGl2o05yllE3saLUDJRPYk2SkjfdjpbhM3XdlTpyLCq1-mcaZhMS9tZz6wUhy_E9rFZb5ZQyCkkqP3x4/s320/Cover+photo.png" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-52013505704508400622020-09-04T13:50:00.004-07:002020-09-04T14:04:08.962-07:00Imagining the Worst is the Best!<p>Part of having an anxiety disorder—at least for me—is an extreme talent for imagining the worst-case scenarios in ridiculously vivid detail. Ever heard the old cliché where the kid comes home after curfew and then mom screaming, "where were you?! I was afraid you were lying in a ditch somewhere!" Amature hour, man. Try this on for size...</p><p></p><blockquote>I started getting worried about one minute past your ETA. The later it got, the most specific the fear. I knew you hadn't slept well last night. I could just see you, squinting into the light of the oncoming traffic as you drove across highway 19, your head starting to nod. Maybe you would veer into the opposite lane, running head-first into a semi and die on impact, or maybe they'd blow their horn just in time and you'd overcorrect and roll your car into a ditch, where you'd hang upsidedown bleeding and alone in the dark for hours. No, I'd remind myself those are all so terrible, have faith that your luck won't be so bad. Perhaps you nod off, your foot will slip off the gas and you'll trundle down into the ditch, still asleep but ultimately unharmed. Yes, that is the best-case scenario and most likely explains why you're now five whole minutes late. Maybe you'll awake in a few hours or be found and woken up by some helpful citizen. Hopefully not a rapist or murder, of course. I hope you'll think to call me then, but I could understand if you were overwhelmed—you need to get your car out of that ditch and all. But that's probably all wrong. Maybe the reason you're now an alarming seven minutes late means you're not planning to come home at all. You've run away, skipped town, called a friend in California and are halfway through Nabraska by now. Oh, why would you run away? I can think of a few dozen reasons of course—oh wait. You're home. Ten minutes late! I nearly died of fright, young lady, how could you do that to me?</blockquote><p></p><p>That was just spitballing of course. In a real panic, there would be more cycling back and rehashing and doubt and it wouldn't be as easy to articulate. But you get the idea. </p><p>So why is this the <i>best</i>?</p><p>It's <i>fantastic</i> practice for creative writing! If I can take that slightly less than exuberant greeting and spin it into a person hating me, or turn a hangover into raging covid-19, or a creaking sound in the night to child traffickers coming for my kids... then I can also create characters with colorful lives and deep back-stories and wide-ranging emotions. I can give them a task to complete and then take them on a journey through all the pitfalls and failures as well as triumphs. It's fun. And exhausting. And sometimes I think maybe the writing then becomes practice for the anxiety. Like a workout for the <a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/2013/03/enter-thought-monkey.html" target="_blank">Thought Monkey</a>. Sometimes when I shut my computer I forget to shut off my imagination so it feeds even more stories to my anxious brain. And that's how I end up taking a twenty-minute shower because I'm practicing for an argument I'll probably never have. But that's okay... *nervous laughter* Right?</p><p>In all seriousness, I wondered if there is a link between the way the brains of writers work and those with anxiety disorders (or other mental illnesses). So I googled it. Low and behold, it seems that there is. I haven't dug deep, I have other things I should be doing, but I do find it fascinating and I'd love to hear from people who see this link in themselves. I'm also hella curious about the role/effect of medication and other mind-altering substances (booze!) on our creative anxious brains. </p><p>As an aside, I was a speaker on a panel at <a href="https://www.convergence-con.org/" target="_blank">CONvergence</a> 2019 called Depression, Anxiety, and the Creative Life. So it seems like this should have occurred to me before but at the time I think I was coming at the topic from a different angle (anxiety/depression as an impediment mostly) so even if I did entertain the idea, it didn't hit me quite like it has now. Maybe it was mentioned and I forgot. Honestly, the biggest thing I got from that panel was a really awesome new friend and a little bit of confidence that I <i>can</i> be funny in front of an audience, even as I'm shaking with nerves.</p><p>I'm not quite sure how to wrap up this post... I could remind you that <a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/2020/08/book-release-announcement-1.html">my book</a> is coming out at the end of this month and I hope you buy it, read it, and love it even half as much as I do. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGuuGeBNP98wf8lMpsAAc8pHWCeO-uHq0Y9gOyftEpXTUkVMfcenq14FVhezJxuWTyztQ64pRItPWRB37uwt0xGzWG7iVk8QgY_MZDpEHHvx8g6GJ_nxKJlTvR6eIc7XgnNR1Mmwt2hY8/s423/ThoughtMonkey.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="365" data-original-width="423" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGuuGeBNP98wf8lMpsAAc8pHWCeO-uHq0Y9gOyftEpXTUkVMfcenq14FVhezJxuWTyztQ64pRItPWRB37uwt0xGzWG7iVk8QgY_MZDpEHHvx8g6GJ_nxKJlTvR6eIc7XgnNR1Mmwt2hY8/s320/ThoughtMonkey.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-3708081263043721642020-08-20T09:16:00.004-07:002020-08-20T12:18:52.511-07:00The Improbable Story of Us<p>In <a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/2020/07/come-out-come-out-wherever-i-am.html" target="_blank">one of my past posts</a>, I promised the story of how Kristin and I got together. So here it goes...</p><p></p>It starts way back in 1999 in high school German class. Kristin and I both took German. I was also learning Japanese on the sly, getting the teacher to give me work, and even let me take quizzes over lunch even though I wasn't actually in Japanese class that year. Those were my favorite two subjects, German and Japanese, because I'm a giant language nerd. I was a pretty socially awkward teen but there were a few things I had some decent confidence in, and that included languages.<p></p><p>One thing I did not have confidence in was my sexuality. You see, there was this really cute girl in my German class. She was cute and blonde and cool and she did this thing where she would run her fingers through her hair that was... distracting. And I heard that she was bi. And due to some combination of all these things I just could not stop thinking about her. And that was a bit confusing as up to this point all my crushes had been on boys. But she was a girl. And her name was Kristin.</p><p>So I did what any girl would do when confronting the idea that she's not straight: I borrowed lesbian movies from the teacher who ran the school pride club. (totally normal, right?) I guess I figured that if the movies struck a chord it would somehow prove I was really bi and that this thing I felt for this girl in my German class was more than just curiosity. The movies I watched, alone in my room on my super cool TV/VCR combo unit, were <i>But I'm a Cheerleader </i>and <i>The Incredibly True Adventure of Two Girls in Love</i>. And well, I've had a crush on Natasha Lyonne ever since. So yeah, they struck a chord. </p><p>So there I had it, "proof" that I was bi. Of course, I didn't actually <i>tell</i> anybody about this at the time that I can recall. I was way too scared. But I did do one thing. I summoned up all my socially awkward nerd courage and tried to flirt with that cute girl. The one who wore jncos, white t-shirts under button-down shirts, and glasses. The one who was quiet and petite and mesmerizing. The one named Kristin. </p><p>So, I sit next to her in the German classroom—in my memory, we're in the back of the room where there were some comfy sofa seating options—and I get out my whiteboard marker, and on the inside lid to my metal lunchbox I write あなたはかわいいです。And I say to her, "I wrote this for you." (smooth, right?) She asks what it says. "It says you are cute." She looks at me (in my memory my heart is going like a jackhammer and my palms are all sweaty, I'm sure I'm literally shaking) and she says, "why did you write that?" And then allllllll my courage evaporates. In my head I'm like "she thinks you're straight, and you're acting like an idiot" so I clam up and that's that. The end of my one attempt to flirt with the first girl I ever liked. </p><p>I don't remember much else about that time but I always remembered <i>her</i>. She was forever the first step in the story of me figuring out that I'm bi. We hung out together a bit when we both had German exchange students but we were never really more than friendly classmates. She graduated in 2000, a year before me, and that was that. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdGseV5OKva5xD2HJMxph9cnB0VqNkdWUkuEenimAaoKKxsDSBiarI3hpQP9jk4zEWVXhbuHlNQrXAXyoa563ZQZL0yZDvszSqyYeMYqUPMVEywcr8wiTLAhwjkHg1UxjCo9IVQeoXUOA/s2048/GermanClass3.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1355" data-original-width="2048" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdGseV5OKva5xD2HJMxph9cnB0VqNkdWUkuEenimAaoKKxsDSBiarI3hpQP9jk4zEWVXhbuHlNQrXAXyoa563ZQZL0yZDvszSqyYeMYqUPMVEywcr8wiTLAhwjkHg1UxjCo9IVQeoXUOA/w410-h270/GermanClass3.png" title="We were so young and oblivious..." width="410" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">German class, spring 2000</div><p>Years passed. I eventually gained more confidence in my sexuality, discovered polyamory, and began to date women. As one relationship was ending, I set up an OkCupid profile, in hopes that it would help me find a more substantive relationship than I had found via Tinder. (I was still crap at flirting with women in real life, I needed the apps, trust me). I even paid so I could message people once before they matched me. </p><p>One night before bed, laying in bed feeling a little drunk, I was looking through profiles and I saw this one woman. She was cute. Glasses, short blonde hair all styled up—she looked way too cool for me. I immediately assumed I wasn't her type, but in her profile she said that a good date would be hanging out watching reruns of The Office. So I was like, "hey, drunk Ali, send the cool cute lady a message, who knows, maybe she won't ignore you." So I started typing. While laying in bed. Drunk. And this is what I managed to get out before my stupid palm hand accidentally hit send:</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"> <i>Rewatching The Office whine teeing to figure out the tween thing</i></p></blockquote><p>Smooooooth. I couldn't send a follow-up so I figured that was that and I'd never hear from her and I should take this as a sign to just go to sleep. </p><p>The next morning I woke up to a message on OKCupid that started like this:</p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"><i>Who would have thought after all this time that "this" would be the way we reconnect....</i></p></blockquote><p>I looked at her name. Kristin. I did a double-take then shot straight up in bed. I don't know if I'd ever felt as surprised and dumbfounded as I did when I realized the girl I had messaged was the same girl I'd been thinking about for almost twenty years. It was Kristin. THE Kristin. The cute girl from German class was suddenly no longer just a memory but a real-life person who was messaging me. You could have knocked me over with a feather. There was a flurry of messaging and looking up yearbook pictures and pinching myself because how could this really be happening? I was so flustered I showed up an hour early for hockey missing part of my gear.</p><p>On the night of our first date, I picked up pizzas and wine and drove to her house. I was sooooo nervous. I arrived early so I basically drove around her neighborhood for ten minutes hyperventilating so that I would be exactly on time. She showed me her place, we talked about our paths to poly, we ate pizza and watched movies and played Blink. Her face when I beat her in my third try, I think I fell in love right at that moment. It was so wonderful it was surreal. It still feels surreal sometimes. She's Kristin. <i>Kristin</i>. And she's perfect. </p><p>And there's so much more I could say about falling in love and moving in together amidst covid and all the wonderful moments we've shared in the last ten and a half months. But I'll save those for another day maybe. I want to wrap up this post. Kristin's almost home from work. <3 </p><p> </p>Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-30563854943798579122020-08-06T11:34:00.002-07:002020-08-06T12:59:50.965-07:00Book Release Announcement 1<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgYsXMK9LC7mCuF4bPI7zBG2Yqp5KvbMZfPQUDrWT6UQGTK372ZbXW1jnEPYBqHNx6UumA7h31eSzD_6iZKY1NBMnnZrxIeHX60qwaqxcLVmdXMHf76eStGtAifL3Fs9Ti847q3914whc/s1600/3D-Book_On-Ice-by-Alison-Sommer+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1355" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgYsXMK9LC7mCuF4bPI7zBG2Yqp5KvbMZfPQUDrWT6UQGTK372ZbXW1jnEPYBqHNx6UumA7h31eSzD_6iZKY1NBMnnZrxIeHX60qwaqxcLVmdXMHf76eStGtAifL3Fs9Ti847q3914whc/s320/3D-Book_On-Ice-by-Alison-Sommer+copy.jpg" width="271" /></a><b>The Teammates series is getting published! </b><br />
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After years of hard work, it's finally time to release my babies into the wild. Originally titled 'My Kind of Bitches'— <i>Teammates Book 1: On Ice</i> will be coming out in September 2020. Just in time for the hockey season I so desperately hope we get to have.<br />
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I've been through quite a rollercoaster ride getting this book written and published. The four main characters in this book, Tessa, Fitz, Dawn, and Michelle, have been some of my closest (if imaginary) friends. I love this series and I am all kinds of excited to finally share it.<br />
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<i>On Ice</i> is the first in a three-book series, followed by <i>Take Shots</i> and <i>Full Strength. </i>All three books follow four friends and teammates as they work to build and maintain a functioning hockey team amidst the drama of their lives.<br />
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<i><b>Teammates Book 1: On Ice</b></i><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
For Patricia ‘Fitz’ Fitzpatrick, hockey is her only escape from her controlling husband and the isolation of her suburban life. When the drama on her team threatens that one happiness, Fitz takes matters into her own hands. She convinces three of her teammates—Michelle, Dawn, and Tessa—to join her in building a new team. The Darts. The Darts have the potential to be something fantastic—if they can survive their first season. As Fitz’s marriage takes a dark turn, she puts more pressure on the team to succeed, so when personal issues with Michelle endanger that success, the Darts begin to crack. Can these four unlikely friends learn to trust and support each other before it all falls apart?</blockquote>
Please stay tuned for the exact date of the release and the book launch party at my real-life teammate Courtney's restaurant, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/localrootsmn/" target="_blank">Local Roots</a> in Richfield, MN. I owe a great thanks to her and to all my friends, family, teammates, beta-readers, and editors who have helped this all come together.<br />
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I also plan on adding some additional sections to my blog to deal specifically with book-related information and special bonus material. I'll also try to keep updates rolling on my Twitter <a href="https://twitter.com/AliOffTheMark" target="_blank">@alioffthemark</a> (I'm not the most prolific tweeter but I try).<br />
<br />Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-51105703368104617332020-07-26T15:28:00.000-07:002020-07-26T15:28:39.504-07:00Come out, come out, wherever I am...A long time ago I wrote a <a href="http://www.alioffthemark.com/2013/04/how-queer.html" target="_blank">post about being queer</a> and said the following:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #6b6b6b; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px;"><i>The reason it's hard to post about this is because, well, it doesn't really matter. I'm married to a man. I'm done with dating. And that's that. Who cares if the celeb I'm crushing on right now is Hannah Hart and not MANnah Hart? (I am on a roll today!) Do I try to make up for my very heterosexual life by being involved in as many lesbian stereotypes as possible? Like coaching and playing women's hockey, going to gay marriage rallies, and watching women's basketball? Maybe. Maybe I'll even buy a Subaru one day. But unless Ethan kicks it, or we discover that we're actually raging polyamourists, I'm pretty settled.</i></span></blockquote>
Well, hold on to your hats folks. Turns out I am a raging polyamorist after all! Well, maybe not <i>raging</i>, per se, but I am poly! I have two <i>fantastic </i>partners now, Ethan and Kristin. We all recently moved in together into our big love-filled poly house.<br />
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I know a lot of people don't "get" poly... yet. But you can learn (maybe I'll even make a post about it one day)! And I also know plenty of people out there don't "believe in" bisexuality. But it isn't a phase or imagined, or any of that. It's actually probably more common than you know. Be kind to your bi/pan friends. It can be a whole world of NOT FUN to be constantly questioned, fetishized, and erased. Being bi can so super totally SUCK. I used to hate it a lot of the time. Just the fact that I thought it didn't matter hurt. Yeah, I hurt <i>my own feelings</i> over it. I think it would be more bearable if people understood. So here I go with a bit of a <i>rant</i>splanation...<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhD8dS3LpTucofTv96CEtXkiUdL0MzKpEVfNIy-7PmGuEOzT-6c_VtI2P492BJ18HvXOxBIsGY_p3Z8BWuzUrFoMfufI6ZcVkJ-hPhrXw7HEseXMHIfzlOOV8PH6qe_lACUokRiC5lvtw/s1600/20200103_201737.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhD8dS3LpTucofTv96CEtXkiUdL0MzKpEVfNIy-7PmGuEOzT-6c_VtI2P492BJ18HvXOxBIsGY_p3Z8BWuzUrFoMfufI6ZcVkJ-hPhrXw7HEseXMHIfzlOOV8PH6qe_lACUokRiC5lvtw/s320/20200103_201737.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mantra: Both? Both. Both. Both is good.</td></tr>
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It can SUCK to be bi. If you tell people you are you'll find out that nobody wants to know; it's treated like unwanted, unnecessary, and sometimes 'fake' information. Or they want to know way too much. I'm often asked to "prove it" by telling people about my sex life with women. "Whaaaat?" you ask. "People can't seriously be asking about your sexual history!" Yup. It's true.<br />
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The basic premise seems to be that you can’t be bi if you haven’t had sex with both men and women. By this logic, nobody can be anything ending in -sexual until they’ve had sex and that is just absurd. Nobody says to a heterosexual that they aren’t really straight because they’re a virgin. I’m guessing that homosexuals do get the “are you sure” question, especially when you’re young. Bisexuals always get that question. Forever. It hurts and sucks and kept me up at night for years.<br />
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TMI alert! I didn’t have sex with the first several girls I made out with. I also didn’t have sex with the first several boys I made out with – hell my first boyfriend and I didn’t kiss at all in three months of dating. But nobody told me I wasn’t attracted to him, although I wasn’t particularly attracted to him, he was just the first person who’d ever asked me out. No girls ever asked me out. It turns out a large number of my close female friends were bi too, we were just all too scared to talk about it. That kills me because I dated some loser dude I didn’t even really like when I could have been dating a girl I really cared about and thought was beautiful? Fuck that sucks. And I know homosexuals go through this too. Being NOT STRAIGHT in high school was hard. I hope it is easier now for high schoolers now.<br />
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I met Ethan during my first semester of college. He asked me out. 3 years and 9 months later I married him. And that was it. I’d chosen, right? Being bi was no longer relevant because we had a heterosexual marriage. The end. But it never stopped me from <i>being</i> bisexual. I love him to death but the one thing that kept me up at night – that I LITERALLY lost sleep over for YEARS – was that I hadn’t had the chance to really be with a woman before I “settled down”. Alone in my head, I questioned myself <i>constantly</i> about my sexuality. Am I really bi? Why the fuck should it matter? But it DID matter. Because I wasn’t straight and I didn’t like pretending to be.<br />
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I was so jealous of lesbians back then. It sounds irrational because I liked my life and loved my husband but I was still so fucking jealous because I felt like I was missing something they had. When I say being bi is hard, I am not saying being gay is easy. I know it’s not easy. Everybody in our society is pushed toward living a straight life. When you’re bi it’s easier to pretend to be straight, but it isn’t comfortable and can be quite painful.<br />
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When I started actively looking to date women it was not just because I believe in polyamory (which I do, obviously), but because the self-doubt over my sexuality was eating my soul. It sucked that I had those doubts, but I was lucky enough to have some great experiences that helped me reaffirm who I was. And even luckier still to end up with Kristin. (I think our story merits a post all its own not squashed in with this particular rant.)<br />
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The point I am trying to make is this: My old post was both right and so very wrong. I am queer and it matters. It mattered then and it does now. I am the same person I always was and so are all the bisexuals out there in monogamous relationships. And I apologize to myself and the rest of my bi brethren for having ever said that it didn't matter.<br />
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<br />Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-9666606374739033432020-02-10T07:18:00.001-08:002020-02-10T07:18:32.304-08:00I'm going Bingle-BongleBlogging is harder than I remembered. Am I forgetting how to interact with real people? How to write for an audience? Is it the shift from third to first person? Or am I just more insecure about it because it's been so long? Maybe all of the above.<br />
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I spend most days working on my book(s). In the Teammates series, I have four major "point of view" characters: Michelle, Fitz, Dawn, and Tessa. At this point, I know them so well that writing with them is like playing with my imaginary friends. I get pretty deep into these characters. Some days I'm just really <i>feeling</i> them, like, too much. When that happens my kids say, "Mom's gone bingle-bongle again."<br />
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I remember once, a few months ago, when I was deep into writing book 2, I had spent a long day writing and was very much in my head. While I was making dinner I was thinking about what I'd written and what it was leading to, and I started getting all worked up. My nine-year-old daughter Dani asks, "Mom, what's wrong?" And I'm like, close to tears, "Tessa's had a really hard day." Then Dani rolls her eyes and walks away. Bingle-bongle.<br />
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Do all authors that their characters to heart this much? If so George R. R. Martin is one fucked up dude. Ha!<br />
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Going bingle-bongle can have its advantages. I think some of the best parts were written when I was in full crazy mode. But the disadvantage is that it can sometimes be hard to find myself afterward. How many times have I said to my husband, "oh, fuck, sorry, I'm just feeling a little <i>Michelle</i> still I guess."<br />
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Blogging is like the ass-opposite of fiction writing. I have to be so... me. And that means I also have to take ownership of my words in a different way. That's an adjustment. I have major respect for the memoir writers out there. That shit takes guts. If you write about somebody real, whether it's yourself or somebody else in your life, the feedback you get from readers has to be on a whole different level. I love getting feedback on my characters (most of the time). I mean, I do feel a little conceited when people say "I love Michelle" and I'm like "I know, right?" but when people say "I really hate Tom" I feel no qualms about agreeing whole-heartedly. How crazy different that all would be if those people were real! *mind blown*<br />
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PS: Ten points to anybody who knows where "bingle-bongle" comes from.<br />
<br />Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-37355142470517679232020-01-29T08:41:00.003-08:002020-01-29T08:41:52.062-08:00Life as a writer is nuts, man!Well, I can't say that I'm super proud of my last few posts on this blog, but I'm back to give an update and I'm not going to delete them. So there. I guess.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB415iM2dg0v6Ii7XlelMy698w6uRxz-lyXlSJSI6ftpG5VoyQSM6nPmEhYrv69LBhi2XiC9-EKXf77YfvFkbyi7S4WtcFcmlnXD1Z0nw4uRtNQe5ZDsyQ5Cke2iwvIT-decVE12pEa8g/s1600/TeammatesBooks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="picture of a stack of Teammates books" border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1431" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB415iM2dg0v6Ii7XlelMy698w6uRxz-lyXlSJSI6ftpG5VoyQSM6nPmEhYrv69LBhi2XiC9-EKXf77YfvFkbyi7S4WtcFcmlnXD1Z0nw4uRtNQe5ZDsyQ5Cke2iwvIT-decVE12pEa8g/s320/TeammatesBooks.jpg" title="" width="286" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Draft copies of the Teammates series for my beta-readers,<br />with a little bi pride thrown in for my own entertainment.</td></tr>
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The last year and a half have been a wild ride, my friends. What did I <i>do</i>? I wrote a book, fell in love with my characters and with writing, wrote a second and then a third, and learned that I <i>detest</i> the querying process. (Not necessarily in that order.) I also edited my pants off and have more editing yet to go.<br />
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Book one, <i>Teammates: On Ice</i>, is polished. It is ready to be read by agents and publishers. I am trying to get that to happen, although querying is painful and gives me All The Anxiety. I <i>love</i> this book and these characters are my fucking <i>soul</i>. It just needs to get published... which it will, one way or another. Some day. Soon hopefully. (Oh, hey, there's that anxiety again.)<br />
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Book two, <i>Teammates: Take Shots</i>, is my favorite of the three; it is my <i>Empire Strikes Back</i> - it is the book that doesn't end happily and still makes me cry. And I <i>love </i>it. (I'm dark and twisted like that.) And it is fairly polished as well. I say fairly mostly because I think maybe it could use another beta-reader. But I'm proud as fuck of that book.<br />
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Book three, <i>Teammates: Full Strength</i>, exists, but is still in need of some real work. I have a stack of post-its and a brain full of thoughts on how to polish it to make it better. I admit that I let myself get over-focused on one of the storylines to the detriment of the others. But I'm fixing it. It's a good book - there are parts that make me <i>swoon</i> - it just needs some nips and tucks.<br />
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Want to know what the series is about? I like to say it's <i>Big Little Lies</i> meets <i>The Mighty Ducks</i>. It deals with the real-life struggles of four women - Tessa, Fitz, Michelle, and Dawn - as they come together to make hockey an oasis where they can escape the challenges they face outside the rink and find support from their teammates. The series touches on serious issues relating to love, sexuality, abuse, mental health, parenthood, and loss. It's difficult at times but also very sweet and touching. And it's funny as fuck. (Honestly, 100% of beta-readers LOLed IRL.)<br />
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So in my attempt to get this published, I'm giving social media a bit of a "hello, again" run. My love is for writing, not marketing. But you gotta do whatcha gotta do, ya know?<br />
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If you want to read something that <i>has</i> been published. May I recommend the lesbian romance novel <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/1952057000" target="_blank">Lust in the Stacks</a></i> by <a href="http://www.nataliefalkenwrath.com/" target="_blank">Natalie Falkenwrath</a>. She and I are like, <i>super close</i>. I'm totally jelly that her book is out and mine isn't, even if that's because I'm trying to go traditional and she's "indie" published. It's fine. When I do get Teammates out it will be all the sweeter for the waiting.<br />
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Until next time!<br />
<br />Alihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4202885377377842521.post-48787457864574125982019-04-17T07:45:00.000-07:002019-05-20T14:35:44.440-07:00I'm back, b*tches!!I bet you thought this blog was dead. Well, as it turns out, it was just taking a really long nap. Like the kind of nap that new parents would dream of (if they slept enough to dream). But it's awake now, so welcome (back)!<br />
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Why, pray tell, is this blog back up and running after so long? Well, in 2017 I left my career in academic technology, and after about a year of soul-searching (aka lots of crying and hyperventilating and working in a job I hated) I decided to take a risk and make a real go of this whole writing thing. And it's been hard, but also <i>fucking fantastic. </i><br />
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Over the course of the last year, I wrote a novel: <i>My Kind of B*tches. </i><br />
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It's not published yet (except for when my husband accidentally <a href="https://www.amazon.com/PROOF-My-Kind-B-tches/dp/B07QGL9ZTX/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=alison+campion+sommer&qid=1555511888&s=gateway&sr=8-1-spell" target="_blank">"published" it on Amazon</a>, oops. It's not really published, we were just getting copies for my beta-readers!) But I just felt the overwhelming need to share. I can't help it. I'm just so fucking excited! The sequel is in the works too, but writing can be a lonely endeavor, and, as Michelle would say, I'm in the mood for a little attention!<br />
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I also decided to start blogging again because of how inspired I am by Jenny Lawson, aka <a href="https://thebloggess.com/" target="_blank">The Bloggess</a>. I fucking <i>love</i> her and it is a dream of mine to have her read my book. And I was hoping that if I reconnect with readers and writers here I might gain some valuable insights on the writing and publishing world. (So far I know I can write a book, but query letters have got me like ... whut?)<br />
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Here is a little synopsis:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFHFOOLAiO0DZBpq8JTVj47ZruHoi-5aQ3Qa64dd6NlECY0rDAADlBRqz4wTk-xLNwobPC4yk9JcMVyGuHJ0WEC08Lvvx0ZECkcmJuXh-tpOloU9SkWL3iFcl90u4Nee461aYJ56dW97k/s1600/NewBookCover.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1036" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFHFOOLAiO0DZBpq8JTVj47ZruHoi-5aQ3Qa64dd6NlECY0rDAADlBRqz4wTk-xLNwobPC4yk9JcMVyGuHJ0WEC08Lvvx0ZECkcmJuXh-tpOloU9SkWL3iFcl90u4Nee461aYJ56dW97k/s320/NewBookCover.png" width="207" /></a><span id="docs-internal-guid-eecaf7c0-7fff-1711-ea65-cd492e5d0df6"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My Kind of B*tches is about four badass ladies. They’re sick of the dramatic bullshit on their hockey team, so they work together to build something new. Well, Fitz does most of the work, honestly. But the hockey team isn’t really the point, it’s all about relationships and drama, and about helping your bitches get through the tough shit in life. Let’s start with Fitz. She’s beautiful and strong, she’s intense and passionate, and she’s married to a total douchebag. She doesn’t want to admit what an ass her husband is, but the more her marriage falls apart, the harder it is to deny. Then there’s Michelle. She’s also smart and strong, and she fucking knows it. She has a toddler and is thinking about having another baby, but nothing in the motherhood department seems to be going right. Toddlers are impossible, and pregnancy is the worst. What even made her want to be a mom anyway? Dawn, now she’s got the mom thing down. She’d better, she has four kids. Her wife is super awesome but struggles with depression, which can place quite a burden on Dawn. But Dawn can totally handle a depressed wife, four kids, a fulltime job, and a dramatic-as-shit hockey team, right? Last we come to Tessa. She has pretty much no life outside of hockey and work. She’s an engineer and a damn good one. But all the little men at her job just can’t seem to get over the fact that somebody like Tessa might just be smarter than the lot of them combined. These four women, unlikely friends as they might be, have a common love: hockey. And the bonds they form as teammates help them not just take down bitches on the ice, but take on the drama of life itself.</span></span></blockquote>
So here I am, back to blogging. I promise it won't be all about the book. See you around!<br />
xAlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14399732285678319048noreply@blogger.com0