Category: Raw

Books and Affiliated, Raw

You Do You

FanTC

I don’t care that my stories or even my characters may not seem realistic all the time. I write the kind of stories I want to read, and so should you.

How often have we heard that encouragement? “Write for yourself! You’ll find readers who enjoy your work as much as you do!” But how often are we hounded by the same gurus telling us we need realistic, heart-felt, raw characters, we need ordinary, everyday issues about life and personhood addressed and resolved, we should write about current events so readers will gravitate to our work?

I struggle with this idealism to make my characters real in a real way, and yet molding them into the heroes and heroines I need to propel the plot forward. Sometimes I write characters who are bolder than I feel. Some of them are shy and morose like me. I’ve been blamed for making shallow main characters who are only moved by supporting characters. Maybe sometimes I feel shallow and can only be moved by people around me. But on the flip side, I’ve also been accused of writing unrealistically brash characters who jump into action without thinking!

There’s no placating people. Everyone has an opinion, and someone will always tell you to do the exact opposite of what you are currently doing.

So, here’s my question: What’s your opinion?

Sometimes we have to refocus ourselves to the reason we write. I’ve been writing for so long, I don’t remember not being a writer. Before I started publishing, before I even shared my work, I literally only wrote for my sister – and maybe one or two supportive friends. I also wrote…for me. I loved my stories. When I get an idea in my head, it’s so exciting. I love the thrill of adventure! I love writing about young girls who get the chance to experience magic, who talk to fairies, who aren’t bound by family but go off willy-nilly without repercussions, scoldings, or groundings. I write to free my mind from my body, and I write to satisfy these urges to hop on a plane to who-knows-where and just escape!

In reality, I really don’t want to run away from home. Yes, I want to explore this world, but that’s not financially realistic – yet. Besides, I love my home. I love my stupid town. I love all the stupid people who populate it, the just and the unjust alike. I just want to experience adventure in a safe way.

And what better way to – safely – experience it than through a good book?

If I never publish another book, it won’t break my heart. I will continue to populate my personal bookshelves with my stories, and if that sounds narcissistic to you, then YES. YES IT IS.

Here is the only time I will tell you to fully embrace narcissism. Nobody is going to love your stories as much as you do. You will never have enough fans, enough adoring Tweets and Facebook messages to compete with the love you have for your own book. And you know why that is? Because you birthed the darn screaming, pooping, puking, colicky thing. You stayed up late and woke up early. You beat your head against walls and computer desks. You were stumped by its rebellion, but you overcame its temper tantrums. You pointed a finger at the notebook or computer screen and shouted, “You’re going to behave, grow up, and become a decent book, so help me God!”

Good parents will always tell you no one will love your child more than you will. It’s the same for books. No one will understand why you put so much patience and time into a few stupid words. Some will even tell you to trash something if it’s just being too difficult.

Well, that’s not what we do around here, is it? No, sir. You pick up that sniveling, snot-faced, puffy-eyed story, wipe away its pathetic tears, give it a few pats on the butt and tell it to go play on the swingset. This is your book. And this is my book.

So let’s write like we don’t give two fudgesicles about the world and its problems.

This has been,

Fanny T. Crispin

 

Raw

I Quit

FanTC

Quit. Give up. Fail. Walk away.

All of those. I am feeling all of it.

After a year debating with my fiance about the future, I finally decided to leave the salon. It is something that has been building for awhile. The slow realization that I don’t want to do this the rest of my life.

I have been working at the same family-owned salon for six years. We have celebrated birthdays together, weddings, babies being born. We have rejoiced in triumphs, shared in sorrow. My coworker Linda is a second mom to me. I go to her with everything – and I do mean everything. 

Maybe you can imagine my conflict right now. Maybe you can’t. It’s not like I’m leaving because I hate my boss or can’t get along with my coworkers. It’s not because I am no longer physically able to do the job. It’s just life.

When life moves, you move with it – whether you like it or not.

I’m getting married next year. We don’t even know where we’re going to live yet, but I need to know that nothing is holding me back from God’s will. And there has been something brewing in the background for many years that I feel is finally coming into focus. Change is raising its scepter once again. Where it directs, I must go.

In January, my part-time job will become my full-time job. After we’re married, GW and I are going to look into colleges for me. I can see my path so clearly, it’s hard not to jump ahead and start the race. But I have to be patient. Too many things need to fall into place before the race can begin. I am going back to school for teaching. It’s something I have wanted for a very long time – before I became a hairstylist – but never had the courage to try.

I’m going to miss the salon. I’m going to miss the people (well, you know, most of them.) It’s not easy to give something up that you have spent six years building. This has been a labor of love and heartache just as much as any relationship. It’s hard to say goodbye.

I apologize. I don’t mean to be so mopey on the blog. But this is raw. This is real. For those of you who have been following me from the beginning, I want you to know it’s okay to put your life out there for others. It’s okay to show your struggle, because from that people will see your strength. The struggle is necessary, otherwise the strength never comes.

Championship weight-lifters aren’t born. Businesses don’t rise in a day. All of this takes time, and with time commitment, and from commitment perseverance.

So here we are, not just at a crossroad, but many paths splitting off in multiple directions. One step at a time will bring us to our goals. Never lose sight of them, because with diligence you can accomplish much.

This has been,

Fanny T. Crispin

Raw

That Moment When…

FanTC

…I realized this wedding was turning into one big costume project.

I’m sorry. I’ve got to vent.

A little backstory. My fiance loves making costumes. Halloween is his favorite holiday, but he’ll use any excuse to dress up. He’s very good at it. And he’s very anal.

Early in our relationship, I learned NOT to costume with him. He once stubbornly refused to budge on a detail so infinitesimal which nobody would see or care about, I literally sat for an hour in silence trying to wait him out, and finally made him sew the damn thing himself.

I apologize. I don’t usually use crass language. Please forgive me.

In his defense, he’s not like that about everything. Just costumes…

…and the wedding.

Now, I could throw a huge tantrum, turn on the water works, fight and scream my way, but I’m not like that. I’m not a bitch. I don’t want to get my way that way, and I really don’t want to make something as trivial as a wedding more important than my love and respect for him.

That being said, I am still frustrated. You may remember me saying I never wanted a wedding. Well, this is why.

Apparently, tradition is everything.

My fiance is completely hung up on tradition. He wants the cookie-cutter wedding. He wants to do everything everybody else is doing. And if I have an opinion or want to omit something, he has a freaking cow. He even asked me, “What is it about tradition that you don’t like?”

I told him. It’s not that I don’t like tradition. I do. It’s great – for other people. But remember, I never wanted a wedding, I wanted to elope. But I’m having a wedding. Fine.

Ideally, I would like to make it as comfortable and relaxed as possible. I wouldn’t stand for all the extra trappings that take up so much time (and money) at weddings. There would be a light, fun ceremony, good food, fun music, and time to chill, hang out, dance, and eat some blooming pie.

Oh, another thing.

I DON’T LIKE CAKE.

But he’s making me eat cake.

I could go on and on, folks, but at some point I need to look in the mirror and ask the hard question:

“Should I just swallow the cake or spit it out?”

This has been.

Fanny T. Crispin (aka Distressed Bride-to-be)

Raw

Quit Interrupting!

FanTC

A little raw. A little unhinged. A little squeaky wheel.

Every editor I have ever worked with has told me the same thing – to expound more on different subjects within my writing. Mostly that’s true of every writer, not including the wordy, long-winded, elaborate storytellers out there. Typically, writers are in their heads so much, they forget that their readers don’t know what they are talking about. They write under the assumption everybody already knows the key details of a story, such as the background, the world-building, or the character’s history.

So editors come in and cue us when something doesn’t add up. They offer crucial insight and ask the questions every reader asks.

Growing up, I was a publicly loud-mouthed child, which my blessed mother curbed quickly. However, all the women in my family are loud. They talk over each other. They interrupt when they feel they have something more important to say. Since I was the only one curbed, I learned to be patient, kind, and attentive. I stopped to let others speak. I listened through the full story. I did not interrupt.

Do you know how rude it is to interrupt and how frustrating it is to be interrupted? If people would listen half as well as they spoke, there would be far less hurt feelings and confusion. That’s a soap box for another time, but my point is clear:

STOP. LISTEN. SPEAK.

In that order.

I am mostly patient when someone interrupts me. However, if it is a repeated offense, that’s when I bite back, because then I know my conversation partner is not listening to me and does not care what I say. Even if it’s a boring story about someone’s day, at least I have the courtesy to hear it until the end. All I ask is for the same respect to be applied to me.

Often, I write with that same mentality. I’m so used to being interrupted, I tend to speak the quick, exciting, important parts of the story and leave out a lot of detail. Even my thoughts are so curbed to this short-hand route, that I will begin a blog and realize I have nothing to say on the matter. Therein lies my main issue. I’m not superfluous – which is good, I suppose. I get by with what I need. I write only what is necessary.

However, when working with fiction, sometimes people want the extras. They want to linger. They want to spend as many moments in that world as they can, because every reader knows the story will be over all too soon.

So what have I left you with, readers? The rambling complaints of a partial-introvert? An invitation to fill your books with pages and, on the pages, words? A message to listen?

This has been,

Fanny T. Crispin