There was one thing worse in my life than suppressing a passion and that was accepting it only to discover that I was now an oddball.

Even as a child I knew I wanted to write. Sadly, there wasn’t any support for such an odd calling. I was supposed to choose a respectable and financially secure profession. I understand why my parents and community wanted that. Living on mixed farms (livestock, grain and vegetable farming) on the prairies, many parents, like my own, were second generation. Their parents (our grandparents) had emigrated from Eastern European countries which were in states of war, famine and other atrocities. Ingrained in their ideals was the need to make a better life for their children and future generations. Study hard. Graduate high school. Go to university or college and secure a good paying job. That was the mantra.

And I studied hard and went to university BUT I studied English and drama. Strike one. My first job was as a waitress and I still wanted to write. Strike two. Strike three never really came but I remained an enigma.

Despite living in a small university city, I never found the support to write that I needed. The style of writing which interested me wasn’t encouraged. In hindsight, I see that it was the literary style of writing and not genre writing that was being taught. Still feeling the oddball, I set myself on a journey to learn and understand the world and now my resume reads like a hodge-podge of job ads. I did a lot of cool things (and still do) and I’ve had many interesting experiences. Through it all, I never gave it up on my dream.

Then, a miracle happened. I moved to Calgary and this city has a very strong and active writing community. With my first novel in hand, I went to a meeting and said, “I’ve written 100,000 words and I don’t know what to do now.” The ensuing support brought tears to my eyes.

Acceptance. Support. Others who see the world as I do. Others who have the same issues and concerns. We laugh together. We help each other. We get through the tough times together. I am not a freak. I am someone with a cool talent. I can love myself now for what I like to do.

That is the gift and triumph of the writing community – it is acceptance and permission to love not only the craft but myself. The ghosts of the past now stay in the past. I love what I do and I love my writing community which spans continents. This is a phenomenal journey we are on and it is filled with many wonderful people.

There are many moments now that make me love being a writer. Every day I am grateful for my mentors and writing groups, to the wide world web for allowing our scattered community to be cohesive and most of all, I am grateful for all the wonderful people I meet on this journey. I may still be the enigma, the oddball to some, but I don’t care because I now inhabit a world where there are many more like me!

Without Them, I Wouldn’t Be Writing

July 4, 2014

Evan Braun

Balancing Acts Evan Braun Interacting With Fans Motivation Reflection Self-Awareness The Writing Life Work-Life Balance No Comments

There are many advantages to being a writer, especially a self-employed one like me. True, my income is highly variable and no one throws me a staff Christmas party at the end of the year, but I get to wake up late, work in my pyjamas, and take time off whenever I like. I get to go trips, use them as research opportunities and attend writing workshops, and then write off all those flights, hotels, and restaurant dinners on my taxes.

I also get to have fans.

I’ve written before on the Fictorians about the day I first realized that I had a fan club. That was one of the best moments of my life, and certainly one that I wouldn’t have had if I hadn’t poured so much time and energy into being a writer.

Having fans is incredibly inspiring—but more than that, it comes with a greater sense of responsibility. No longer can I get away with just writing anything I want and hoping it’s good enough. I have people who read carefully and care about the characters and settings I have invented. And if I don’t give it my all, they know. They call me on it.

During a question-and-answer session last year at a reading for my latest novel, an astute reader in the audience stood up to identify a plot hole I had never noticed before. She didn’t do it in a mean-spirited way; she had assumed the seeming inconsistency was intentional, and that it was part of an elaborate setup for a future book. If only that were true. Knowing that people are reading carefully and paying attention means you gotta work twice as hard.

Well, lesson learned.

This week, I went to the doctor’s office for a checkup. While in the waiting room, someone sidled up next to me and asked when my next book was coming out. When I refused to give him a straight answer, he tried to fish some spoilers out of me. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and more than once I’ve pulled a Robert-Jordan-esque “ROFL.” Even two years ago, I never would have imagined something like that happening.

Another reader once asked me if I could write her into the next book. She may have been joking, but when she picks up said book when it comes out she may have a surprise in store.

Perhaps it’s because I’m from a small town, but people seem to know me where I’m from. They recognize me, they turn out in relatively large numbers when I have an event, and they ask me about my upcoming projects while I’m picking up the mail or waiting at the deli counter at the grocery store. This most likely wouldn’t be the case if I lived in a big city, which makes me all the more grateful for the experience. I’m in awe of it.

Like I said, it comes with responsibility.

When I sit down at the beginning of a new writing session, my mind invariably turns to the latest handful of people who asked me when the next book is coming out. I want my writing to be worthy of their interest and attention, and as a result I strive hard to take my craft to the next level.

What makes me love being a writer? Indisputably, the fans. Without readers, there cannot be books. If all these dedicated and persistent readers in my life didn’t exist, I wouldn’t be pushing as hard as I am right now. I wouldn’t be writing. I’d be popping in a DVD, sitting down to watch another episode of Game of Thrones for the tenth time. I’d be playing yet another game of Minesweeper.

So here’s to the fans—who came to my reading despite having to drive fifty kilometres through one of the worst snowstorms of the worst winter since the 1800s, who put me on Winnipeg’s bestseller list two weeks in a row during the Christmas rush, and who pester me constantly when I’m feeling down. They make this whole miserable and glorious experience worthwhile.

On the Brink

July 3, 2014

mary

The Writing Life No Comments

I am not, by nature, a party person. My idea of a good time is more likely to involve a stack of comic books, a couple cats, my couch and a cold beer than a room full of chatty strangers. Becoming a published writer has forced me to step outside my comfort zone, first for networking, now for promotion, but I’d always viewed it as a necessary evil rather than something I actually enjoyed.

My friend Marie Bilodeau is a multi-published author with six novels to her name, and I’ve been to the launch parties held for all of them. When I made my first short story publications last year, I inquired whether there was anything like a novel launch for short story anthologies; whether I ought to consider gathering a few copies of the four print anthologies that feature one of my short stories, and throw a launch party.

I was thinking about reserving the back room in a pub, doing a couple readings, inviting everyone I knew who lived locally… But Marie, social organizer extraordinaire that she is, thought a little bigger.

Using connections from her writer’s group, Marie got in touch with the organizers of Can-Con, the Conference for Canadian Content in Speculative Fiction. She pitched the idea for the convention to help support new Speculative Fiction writers by holding a launch event for authors who’d just had their first few publications; in return, donations gathered at the event would go back to supporting the convention. More than just getting my name out there and selling books, this event tied me in to the Speculative Fiction community in Ottawa, strengthening my connection with editors, media, other writers…the list goes on.

The end result was an event called On the Brink: Can-Con Celebrates New SF Writers. Two other writers, in addition to myself, would read from their short stories and sign books; we also had a guest speaker, Aurora Award nominated writer Matt Moore. We held it in the Business Improvement Area where I work as an administrator—and yes, I got my “back room in a pub.”

The event was a big success! We had doubled the expected turnout. I sold a pile of books, not only to my friends and co-workers but also to a number of people in the local SF community; I even got new fans. Reading from my stories was more fun than terrifying; it felt a lot like the dramatic monologues I used to do at drama club shows in university. Best of all, the event’s success means that Can-Con is hoping to make it an annual event, building the relationship between the convention, writers both new and established, and the wider community of readers and fans.

Most of all, being packed into a crowded room of friends, strangers and casual acquaintances didn’t leave me wishing I could run for the door. In fact, I actually had fun. I’m looking forward to my next launch event, whenever that may be, and remembering that, while I might be an introvert by nature, being part of the SF community is one of the things I love about being a writer.

Forming the Fictorians

July 2, 2014

clancy

Business Clancy Metzger Conventions Motivation Reflection Superstars Writing Seminars The Writing Life 1 Comment

When I went to the first Superstars Writing Seminar in Pasadena back in March of 2010, I thought I was going to get some sound business advice from successful writers – and I did. In spades. I had many expectations which were all exceeded by lengths of football fields. I also thought I’d meet people and make some nice acquaintances – wrong. So very wrong. I made friends. Lifelong friends and writing peers and a writing family we now call The Fictorians.

I remember clearly one night in Pasadena, we were walking back to the hotel after a night of food and beer at a local pub. I was talking with Kevin J. Anderson and I was saying that the group of him, Rebecca Moesta, Dave Farland/Wolverton, Brandon Sanderson and Eric Flint reminded me of the Oxford group that met regularly to talk writing which included C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. I asked how a group like that formed because it seemed to enhance everyone’s writing and careers.

Kevin said, “Look around.”

I did and what I saw were all the people who I’d been hanging with at every break and meal. The ones who’d gravitated together and felt a connection. I saw people I liked, respected and thought had awesome ideas they were working on in their writing. I saw people like me. People who wanted to be writers, took their writing seriously and were taking steps to succeed in this cool and difficult profession.

When I looked back at him, he said (and I paraphrase), “You’re doing it. Right now. With these people. This is how groups like that are formed.”

We left that seminar, with emails in hand and a goal to stay connected. We live all over the world. We write in different genres. Some of us have met in person again in Las Vegas for one of ours to renew her vows to her lovely husband. We’ve seen each other at other Superstar Seminars since the first one. We have conference calls and stay connected via email and social media. We have areas of expertise that the others can tap into with a simple request. We’re friends and peers.

I have one other writing group that I feel this way about, and I value those friends as well.

So, when someone asks me what is a moment that makes me love being a writer, I think of my friends and fellow writers. The people who support me and keep me motivated. Who inspire me. Who share a dream with me. These are people who keep me going when times are hard.

Because I’m a romance writer, I use the ‘L’ word a lot and I’m going to use it now. These are people I love for all they give me and pull out of me and share with me.

It’s four years later, and Kevin was right. We’ve become one of those groups. We’ve been through bumps and growing pains. People leave the core but remain on the peripheral, some return, some never left, but we’re still together, doing what we love and supporting each other. We are the Fictorians. And I think we’re Fictorious!