Kelly Flowers

writer


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I Don’t Do Book Reviews

(So this is just an in-depth opinion piece about a book I happened to have just read.)

The Tsar of Love and Techno: Stories: Marra, Anthony ...

The Tsar of Love and Techno – One of those books with a colorful cover and weird title that sits on your book pile, guilting you for purchasing another book you don’t need and can’t store, but then additionally for not actually reading it. (How can I possibly think with all this silent judgment from my mouthy books?!)

It was a random book sale purchase. No pretense. The cover promises something, the title could go either way… Modern love story? Dystopian future? Cheeky memoir? So you finally open it. Take that, procrastination! (Also, your book club is reading it so… you know… pressure)

The first story begins a narrative that feels clever. A time piece, you think. Interesting narrator. Metaphors on point. Russian culture. Even a pinch dystopian, as true Russian lit seems to go.

This recognition quickly unravels at the second story as you begin to navigate the book anew. Who is this new narrator? We’re in a different era, different city, different voice. Ok, multi-perspective, you think. I could be in the mood, you think. The one-liner wisdoms are pretty smart. You’re feeling the sad come on, as Russian lit seems to go. And there, right there, the Russian claws are in. Fasten your seatbelt. Or rather, don’t. Because the kind of sad that The Tsar of Love and Techno delivers is the kind you savor, not like chocolate, more like sore ab muscles. Productive pain. If sadness wasn’t soul-scratching, why are so many books laced with it?

Somewhere in the second story, a sentence catches your eye like a flirtatious glance from a stranger. Totally ignorable. Deniable. But definitely something. You don’t look back because you’re totally above that. But still… something.

The stories are connected, you think. By more than just taking place in (some form or former form of) Russia. You feel very clever. Any author who can make you feel clever for actually just seeing his own cleverness is #pulitzer.

You hop eras and cities. The Russian names mesh, even though the author limits the nicknaming, as Russian lit seems to go. But each story will take a little bite of your soul, chew it slowly and then put it back a little softer. Gross? Ok, maybe.

When the stories begin to overlap, you dare to hope. Maybe a happy ending? After all, it’s not toooo Russian. We don’t need a happy ending, you think. We actually hate when a story tidies into a bow, you remind yourself. But still… Maybe? A full circle? A magnificent redemption? This sad will be worth it, right?!

I will neither confirm nor deny any sort of ending because with Russian lit, it’s better navigated blind. But the soul itch does get scratched and the sad is savored (and then ruminated on for days) because Anthony Marra writes an amazing story, or rather a tapestry of them. Read this book. #NotAnAd #JustAFan

6 out of 5 stars.

Not suggestive of ending


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40 Before 40 – Update

So those that know me know I like lists. Like I reeeeeally like lists. I like them the way people like Netflix. I pursue them the way some people scroll Instagram. I read and reread and order and reorder them. Honestly, I don’t know how people function without them.

My brain simply can’t hold all the stuff I need/want/probably shouldn’t do.

Screen Shot 2020-01-06 at 3.21.03 PM.png

(Note: In finding this image I went down a rabbit hole called “Exploding Brain Syndrome”. This is a thing.)

Arguably the mother of all lists is the BUCKET LIST. Like Google, it has even been “verbed.” But a bucket list is a problem for me because it indicates a plan to do things someday, preferably before you die. And who knows when that is, right? Continue reading


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Fresh Meat, New Novel. We Is Smitten.

I’ve been editing for so long, I forgot what it’s like to sink my teeth into fresh prose, to get that high from creating rather than rehashing and hacking. I am finally into a new book and my appetite has been whet.

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I was gun shy to start a new novel, not because it’s an agonizing, hair-pulling, time-consuming process, which it is. I dreaded it because I didn’t want to commit to a new set of characters for the next few years of my life. Honestly, I hadn’t met a bedfellow I thought I could handle the commitment with. We’re talking about fictional characters, people, but sometimes, you’re just SICK OF TALKING TO THEM.

I’m going to do everything different this time. First, I’m writing an outline (before I start describing settings and layering characters). I’ll make sure I have a working ending so that I can build it from the beginning rather than retrofitting it in later. (and then re-retrofitting it on the second draft) See? I can learn.

Tonight, one of my writer friends said that if she knew how hard writing actually was, she would have taken up painting. She’s on her 7th draft, which made me self-conscious about my own 3 paltry drafts.

But THIS is what it’s all about! It’s the rush of lifting my fingers from the keys after three hours and having to resurface enough to maintain a conversation. Sure, I then realize I’m running late and haven’t brushed my teeth but who cares?! It like a drug to me.

So if you can’t find me for the next year of my life, know I am holing myself up in a dark corner, face creepily lit by my laptop screen and a look of crazed joy on my haggard face. Writing like a ninja.

hiding with laptop

Ahhh, authoring.

 


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That Time Of Year… Costuming

(I once thought this was a blog about writing. Really, it’s a blog about the things that get in the way of writing, like procrastination and writers block and things I consider important because they require creativity but ultimately eat up what precious time I have to actually write. Really… it’s a blog about costuming.)
October… ahh. Fall. 🍁 You’re celebrating pumpkin spice lattes, leaves changing color and wearing scarves.
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Me? I’m celebrating Halloween. (Not for the spooky stuff cause I’m still legit afraid of the dark. 🙄) I love Halloween for what it really is, an excuse to make costumes!
I put as much emphasis on this as any other thing in my life, a result of my inability to prioritize. My evenings are suuuper productive with things like sewing and gluing and the like.
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For me, making a costume is like any big project that I must first break into many small projects.
So instead of my to do list saying…
-Make xxx costume
It says…
-Sew vest for xxx costume
-Find wig for xxx costume
-Pick shoes for xxx costume
-Build chest plate for xxx costume
As you may guess, I get to cross stuff off my list ALL. THE. TIME. That’s what I like to do, cross stuff off my list. I metaphorically body bump myself like… Yeah. 👊🏻 You get sh*t done! You’re so damn productive. I can’t even handle how productive you are right now.
Meanwhile, my large projects are collecting dust on said list, trickling down from day to the next. Submissions? That’ll be a November list item for sure. 
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In the meantime, blogging is taking precious time from googling how to sew boot covers. Such breed of domestic I have become.
No spoiler alerts! I know you can’t wait. MUAHAHA!
November 1st blog post forthcoming. 🙂


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Sincerely, Two-Faced Mom


I am a writer.

I am a mom.

I am either a great writer or a great mom. But rarely both. And it’s a tightrope of guilt.

At this point, I’ve whittled down all other hobbies/interests/passions because my hours are spoken for. Any chance I had of learning to paint is on the retirement hobby list now. And somehow, there’s still a shortage of hours in my day.

Let me say, my kids bring me great joy. Definitely. Of course. Most of the time.  Now that that’s out of the way, the truth is, I’ve never been ok with being just a mom. (I know, I know. Moms everywhere are rolling their judgy eyes. Just a mom?!?! I realize how it sounds) We aren’t supposed to admit it but motherhood is the termite of self-identity, niggling into our foundation and thinning us out.

Not that this is bad. Motherhood takes over because, many times, there’s nothing I’d rather do than roll on the floor with my two year old. Not do dishes, tone my abs or train for a marathon (haha. Just kidding. I wouldn’t do that stuff anyway.) and not write the next great American novel.

But it’s times like summer vacation when I realize how very contradictory my two passions are. Hmm, edit chapter 6 or get the wildling grommets out of the house before they start setting LEGO booby traps. 

(On that note, writing and a toned butt are also currently duking it out. Luckily, I hate exercise and could happily write and eat m&m’s for hours so it’s not much of a fight).

Can’t I be fun, energetic, tanned, active, involved mom but also be reclusive, obsessed, pale, moody writer? Gawwwd, Kelly! Step up your game.

And when is “being busy” an easy excuse for not applying myself to my work? And when is it ok to put a dream on hold to spin my wheels picking up toys, wiping noses and reading Little Blue Truck for the 1000th time? And shouldn’t I always be joyful to do these insanity-inducing motherhood tasks?  Because a truly great mother would. 🤨

Damn you, selfish self!

Btw, if anyone has any pearls of wisdom, lay em on me. Because sadly, this summer, I’m choosing great(ish) mom and by the time bedtime rolls around, I can’t even form full sentences.
Also, this is my summer reading… 😣

Those of you reading literary novels right now, I hate you.


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How NOT To Write A Novel – Drunk

drinkingErnest Hemingway once said “Write drunk, edit sober.” Write_Drunk_Edit_Sober-1517

One of my writerly friends says, “Write drunk, edit on caffeine” Pret-ty kitschy and more up my alley. I already edit on caffeine so…

I decided to test this theory, like, track it, test it, tie one on. 🍺🍻🍷🍸🍾🍹🍶  Oh, the things we do for science. 🤷🏼‍♀️

alcohol 1

(Side note: There are A LOT of really great drinking memes. Don’t writers have better things to do? Doh. Guess not.🙄)

To be fair, I’ve inadvertently tested this drunk writing theory back in college. The result was lackluster and barely legible poetry. Overall, a fail. But I’ve grown, evolved, matured. Obviously. 

Testing drunken-writing is probably not a true measure of maturity.
If alcohol lubricates social anxiety, couldn’t it also grease the wheels of creativity? Then, it occurred to me that many great and brilliant authors are/were alcoholics. This is either a 👍🏻 for alcohol or a 👎🏻 for writing. Funny-Alcohol-Meme-I-Will-Just-Have-One-Beer-With-Lunch

For sake of research, let’s hypothesize that alcohol triggers creativity (with a few grammatical errors) and set the experiment parameters. This is very scientific after all.

1. While writing, I will track the time and alcohol consumption in 20 minute increments.

2. I’ll have to judge the material myself, with a sober set of eyes, because I can’t imagine letting someone else do it. Unedited?!?! Chah!

3. No distractions. This is no party! This is a rigorous experiment that requires I imbibe alone and diligently. No funny business.

4. When I sense a particular profoundness happen, I’ll mark it. My college inebriated poetry always felt brilliant… Until the next day. So here, I’m testing my drunken judgement of quality. Think beer goggles. (This could be the most embarrassing part of the experiment.)

5. Lastly, as I write, I’ll note the speed and ease (or maybe incessant brain-stalling) with which ideas are hatched as well as the inspiration to keep going. All the creativity of JR Tolkien doesn’t help if all you want to do it watch “This Is Us” and eat Red Vines… Not that I would know or anything.

Ready… Commence the spirits! And remember, I’m doing this for you. Stop-drinking-meme-joke

 


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New Years – How To Find More Time

After drinking our champagne at dawn, my husband could not stop congratulating himself on his artsy photography skills.


It’s that time of year again! Time to careen into January full of gusto and resolve. So what if we sputter halfway into February. That’s a whole month (and one twelfth of a year) of progress. That has to be worth something!

It seems like just yesterday I was writing last years new years blog, “Resolutions” Don’t Work. I get really excited about this. My readers, all five of them, know that New Years is one of my favorite holidays.

Once, I saw something on HONY (for those of you that are not up on HONY, I’m obsessed with him. It stands for Humans of New York and this photojournalist, Brandon Stanton, walks the streets and takes people’s pictures, telling little bits of their conversation. I’ve followed him for years and its always poignant and powerful and I feel he miraculously reveals a bit of soul in two or three lines of conversation. Readers, all five of you, follow him! You’ll thank me.)

So back to my point… Years ago, there was a post of a woman. She said something like… (Excuse the lack of verbatim. This is how I remember it.)

“I have this theory. We are all given the same amount of time but time is a subjective concept. So if things in our lives are always changing, it feels like we get “more” time.” Continue reading


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How NOT To Write A Novel – No Pressure, No Progress

Writing, for most, is not their day job. I do write for a living and therefore feel entitled to this sketchy analogy.

Writing for work (aka your day job) and writing for fun (aka your literary masterpiece) are like having a child or a puppy, respectively. With your child, you have a schedule. School, dentists, doctors and soccer games. If you don’t make your deadlines, you’ll have CPS or a truancy board after you.

But your novel is like a puppy. It was a choice that brings you great joy and anguish and tests your discipline and resolve. And you can be as diligent as you want (as long as you feed it) If you do a lazy job raising your puppy, you’ll just have a jerk of a dog.

After a long day of parenting, training a puppy doesn’t rank high on the joy list. Just as, after a long day of work, carving out a couple hours to work on our manuscript sounds exhausting (especially if you’re STILL editing 😞)

It’s easy to put it off. And then put it off again. Because there’s always tomorrow, right?

Welllllll, let me tell you the difference between work writing and hobby writing for me.

DEADLINES.

deadlines

This is great if you are UBER disciplined. You have probably already put yourself on a schedule. You’re probably already adhering to your deadlines. (Good. For. You.) and (Whatever.)

But if you’re like me, Continue reading


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Next on the reading list: Brene Brown

Brene Brown keeps bobbing on my radar from random places.

That’s what the universe does. It smacks me over the head with something when I’m not listening.

Ok, universe. I get the message (because I have nothing but time) but actually I’m a little obsessed with her ideas.

I don’t love the idea of vulnerability cause that sounds awful. I’m developmentally stunted in it for sure. But if it promises to be as fulfilling as all these people think… well, what the heck, right?