NaNoWriMo Hangover

This is the 2nd year of my participation in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I am pleased to report this is my nine-year-old daughter’s first participation in the Young Writer’s NaNoWriMo, and her 1st win. This year we have won together.

Thousands of writers, young and seasoned, participate in NaNoWriMo every November. The quest for adult writers is to hit 50,000 words in 30 days. 50,000 has been deemed the minimal number of words to consider a novel, as opposed to a novelette or a novella. Authors from across the globe do this one month marathon for many reason, and to each their own.

For myself, I’m one of those people who loves a good challenge, but put accolades to be won in front of my nose and the competitor in me grunts and growls all the way to the finish line. I love trinkets, little charms, even digital, that show my accomplishments. A trophy for starting. A trophy for hitting 10,000 words. A little digital sticker for writing a specified amount of days in a row. Yep, those are my motivators. I should’ve been a Girl Scout, I would’ve been awesome.

50,000 words, although technically a novel, has never been enough words for me. I’m usually fetal and crying on the cutting room floor when an editor says 118,000 words is just too much. “B-b-b-but, they are my babies. I can’t just cut 10 to 18 thousand words!” Well, with that bit of information, my NaNoWriMo marathon is only the beginning. But after one month of prep, one month if strict writing and focus, an awful lot of inappropriate words, and sheer seclusion from anything other than fictional characters, I am spent.

Plain and simple, the marathon for two years in a row has turned into the death of two stories. I’m just not fit to go on for another 50,000 (at least) words. Oye vay. Yet, there are those finish liners, those gold medal winners who go on and push forward through to completion. I salute you, and think there should be a digital NaNoWriMo golden book sticker for those writers whom complete NaNoWriMo AND actually keep writing their book to completion. Maybe then I would finish a marathon book. I do love my accomplishment awards.

Am I the only writer out there that suffers NaNoWriMo hangover? I’d love to hear your comments.

Tania L Ramos RN BSN

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Why Giveaway Your Talent?

Many authors, painters, and sculptors get asked this question: Why is it so much? Newbies, you will want to read this.

Coming from a very artistic family, my brother was often asked why his paintings cost so much? I have been asked to give books away for free.There are several ways to gauge a cost: How famous is the creator? How much time went into creating this work? How much were the materials to create this work?

The one people most commonly will understand is how much material went into the work. They are more apt to understand a higher cost of something if, say a sculpture, was made of copper. The one people don’t usually understand is the value of time.

Almost all people are paid by time;  by the hour. You put in 8 hours at work and you are paid for those 8 hours. Of course, the hourly wage will depend on the type of work. Let’s just say that any indie artist is paid minimum wage (in CA that’s $10). As an independent author, writing a novel may take me 300 hours (that’s being generous). In theory, I should make $3,000. But nobody is paying me. My income comes from sales of books.

On average, an independent author receives about $2.00 from the sale of a physical book and $1.75 from the sale of an e-book. Those prices fluctuate depending on how they went about publishing, so +-$1.00 in either direction.

Here’s the math:

At a $15 dollar book, making only $2.00 royalty per book, I need to sell 1,500 books to earn minimum wage for my 300 hours. the average indie author sells 10 books. It’s a labor of love.

Here’s some more math:

I pay an editor $1500 to edit my book. I pay $100 to buy an ISBN for my book to be sold. I pay $500-$1500 to have someone professionally format that book. Then, I either publish on my own (Amazon) or go through a vanity press, in which you can tack on another $1,000 to $5,000 dollars. So recoup those costs, I’ve got to sell another 3,ooo+ books.

But wait! There’s more.

A book lost in cyberspace is just that: Lost. Now I’ve got to let people know this book is alive. As an independent author, I’ve got a few devote friends and family, a loyal stalker or two, but no huge fan base that jumps for joy whenever a new book comes out. So I have to start marketing. My latest Facebook ad cost $38.83 to reach 2,300 people total. But that’s just reach. I need clicks. I need purchases!! Of those 2,300 reach 171 clicked through to see what I’m selling and about 7 downloaded the e-book. I spent $38.83 for 7 sales and made about $10.

The question again: why does a book, painting, piece of art cost so much? Why can’t you float me a book for free?

Because it cost more than I may ever recoup and nothing is ever really free. Even if I gave the book for free, it actually cost me my soul. See below for my October royalties. In total there were 9 books or e-books sold (ignore the 19 I had an author order of 10 books in there). Total gross sales were $68.83 and royalties paid to me were $15.40. I made about a quarter of the gross or $1.71 average per book. Who else would work for that?

 

So why do it? I get asked that quite a bit. Why? Because writing is in my soul. This is what brings me comfort and peace. And if i could write for a living, I would absolutely do it. Once a year, maybe twice, I’ll get a great review, or someone who says that my story touched them or made them think. One person said she picked up the phone and called her father after ten years of being estranged from him, after reading my book Be Still. Yeah. That’s why. Happy reading and happy writing.

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Tania L Ramos RN BSN

Ghost

As I walk this shadow side by side
A recollection of a friend of mine
Memories hung in light of dreams
Shadows are nightmares too, it seems

As I walk this shadow walk away
Never a shadow is here to stay
Voices hinge on secrets passed
Never shadows could ever last

As I walk this shadow to the ending light
The ghost beside me dies to night
A weary hand beside the moon
The walking shadow gone too soon

As I walk this shadow to no sound
The ghost of you looses ground
A ghostly shadow next to me
Your never shadow should will never be

This is Not My Memoir

I’ve written hundreds of characters over the years, but none has been as difficult as writing me. There is a lesson to be learned here. I’m sure at some point in time I’ll figure it out. This is not my memoir: I’m not that exciting. This is a small excerpt from Pathological, a fictional account of what it is like to essentially date a narcissistic sociopath. This follows Eddie’s confession at having slept with a woman (who now claims to be pregnant) during a time he was trying to date Gabbie.

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With hands tossed in the air, I backed up to the small office chair and dropped. Was I entitled to be upset? Was I? We were talking; only talking. We weren’t dating. Hadn’t spoken on dating. Hadn’t even hinted at going out. My mind waged a war, a million thoughts, infinite emotions all running into each other like those epic scenes of thousands of warriors running full speed into each other on some desolate battle ground. The destruction left behind was never noble, and I could already feel the acid of the aftermath. Did I have the right to be upset?

In my mind a reel of rationalization began to unfold. I wasn’t a pessimist, but I wasn’t a glittery optimist either. My world, my teachings, my studies all hinged on realism; on bringing people back to spatial reality and acknowledging that good and bad coexist to create function. But, that was my job. When it came to me, to my personal life, to my own vagabond emotions there was only visceral reaction. And every time—each and every time—I arced my neck, shuddered, and betrayed myself to give another person the benefit of the doubt.

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An excerpt by, Tania L Ramos

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Fiction Based on Reality

I’m writing quite different with this one. Adding journal entries at the beginning of each part. These are the real parts. The dark parts that were true enough of how I felt in those days that turned out to be the beginning of 6 years of lies. This is all hindsight, which lends to a bit of self-loathing as can be noted at the end. Maybe people will heed the warnings: don’t piss a writer or you may get killed in her book.

In the days of knowing I was losing Andy I felt like I was losing myself too. There was a dynamic about Andy, something that out shadowed me in every way. My name was lost at marriage. My days ahead I was known as Andy’s wife, and where I should’ve delighted instead I became abhorrent. If I ever I needed the proverbial knight in shining armor, the time had come. Desperate times and desperate situations also meant loss of reasoning and the ability to see clearly. Eddie Sinolach was just what I needed, when I needed someone, so much that the world around me faded to all things Eddie. Nobody should ever close their eyes so tight.

Tania L Ramos RN BSN, author

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