"Bringing It" Soul Journal Page by Shannan Sinclair

“What the hell is a Demesne?” you ask.

“Read the first 3 Chapters of Dream Walker,” she answers.

**hee..hee**

I will tell you that ‘demesne’ is the Anglo-French respelling of the word ‘domain’, meaning realm or territory, and is pronounced duh-main. But that’s all you get. How it relates to Dream Walker you’ll have to explore for yourself.

(It’s right here ~ for free.)

So how am I the master of my demesne?

If you are thinking about the best episode of Seinfeld ever, get your mind outta the gutter. That is a subject matter for another, more risque blog.

I am talking about the little novel writing realm I am trying to build.

I am becoming what is called an Indie Author. This means I am writing books and publishing them myself. No agent. No publishing house. No go-betweens. No middle men. It is just me, the writer, to you, the reader.

It means I am managing the production of my book; setting it up for the printing press, converting it for Kindle and Nook, and dealing with the distributors directly. 

It also means I am marketing and promoting the book myself. I created my own website. I am writing my own press releases. I am arranging my own book launch and blog tour and building my own author platform.

I am in charge of both quality control and the professionals that I hire to assist me making my product worthy of your perusal. Critics complain that self-publishing means poor editing and bad quality. That may be true in some cases. But I am striving to be cream of the crop, not crap, and have worked hard to achieve that. You are the one who gets to decide whether Dream Walker is cream or crap, not the middle man.

I am also the accountant who manages all the income and expenses of this venture. Right now I am only managing expenses, but hopefully soon, I will be managing income as well. (That’s your part, too, btw.. ;-) )

Oh yeah...and I am, first and foremost, a writer, working on the outline for book 2.

I do this full-time passion on top of my full-time job as a 911 dispatcher, and my other full-time job as a single mother with two kids, two dogs, two cats, and a geriatric goldfish. (He's 8. That's old.)

So why would I do this Indie thing? Who in their right mind would take all that on? Wouldn’t it be easier to attempt to go Traditional and have someone else do it? 

Well, it turns out that most of those tasks would end up on my to-do list anyway. Apparently, the agent gets you the publisher, the publisher prints your book and the rest is up to you. Especially if this is your first time to the rodeo, like me. The likes of Stephen King and James Patterson may get a little more than that. May. 

Second, I get to retain the rights to my book. If I got picked up by a traditional publisher they would want to retain the electronic and movie rights to Dream Walker. Sorry, but retaining those rights is important to me. I have a vision, damn it! It involves the Oscars and Tom Cruise.

And rather than the 17.5% royalty a traditional publisher would let me have for my e-book, I get 65-70% by going to the distributor directly. Being that I wrote 100% of the book, I think that is fair.

But maybe the biggest difference, and my ultimate reason, for going Indie, is the control I have over my vision and the speed with which I see results.

I assembled my paperback book in 4 hours, uploaded it to CreateSpace in 20 minutes, ordered a proof 12 hours later and had it on my doorstep 2 days after that.

BAM! Near instant gratification!

(So maybe it is a little like Seinfeld. Like being Kramer, rather than Jerry.) 

And as soon as I approve my proof, within 12 hours it will be available to YOU! 

Just. Like. That!

No waiting 2 to 3 years to hold my book in my hands or have people read it.

There is a visceral rush in that!

Shannan

"Fold 'Em" Soul Journal Page by Shannan Sinclair

In his bestseller The Soul's Code, James Hillman proposed that each of us has a calling, and inborn imperative, coded into our very soul and that in order to find fulfillment with our lives, we have to realize that calling.

This invisible guiding force, ever urges us toward our destiny, ever prods us to live our highest truth. The Romans called it our ‘genius’. The Greeks called it the ‘daimon’.

How many of us are living according to our soul’s code?

How many of us are following our deep-seeded spark of genius?

Are you?

My guess would be that only 10% of us are. The other 90% of us have forsaken it—set it aside for various reasons. Maybe because we have to be responsible grown-ups and work at jobs and pay rent and raise our children and survive? Maybe because we don’t know what our calling is in the first place?

Daimon is the Greek derivative of the word demon. And isn’t it so true that when we deny our calling, when we shove our destiny deep down within us, it turns on us. Instead of being the higher voice of the divine inspiring us to our greatness, it becomes the demon that eats away at us from the inside because we won’t let it out into our life.

When I look around, I see that a lot of us are living with a rabid daimon. Left in a cage it creates havoc. Are you depressed? Are you constantly enraged? Does everything you touch turn to dust? Do you wonder why your life does not seem to go anywhere? Or brings no lasting joy or pleasure?

I know that place well. I have tread quietly around my daimon my whole life. Every, other thing took precedent over listening to the call of my purpose. And my life always seemed out of sync...always off...flat.

When I stopped denying my soul’s code, and started doing what it is I was meant to do, everything shifted.

Life isn’t perfect. I still have to work my night job as a 911 dispatcher. Stresses and problems still exist. But my outlook is completely different. I have an intense spark of joy in my heart. There is a thrill to getting up each morning (or in my case, afternoon :-)).

As long as a touch base with my daimon every day, do just one thing I came to this body and planet to do, the rest of the bullshit is just, well...bullshit.

And the daimon rewards me for listening. It rises up to meet my efforts with divine assistance. Miracles abound.

My files for Dream Walker are converted for both Kindle and Nook and ready to upload to Amazon and Barnes and Noble! And today my daimon knocked on the door in the form of FedEx with the first proofs of Dream Walker in paperback!

All systems are go, go, GO!

And I couldn’t be happier!

So what about you? What dream are you denying yourself? What can you do today to follow to your soul’s code?

Do it!

Shannan

No one likes to say "I'm sorry." But when we have wronged someone, turned our back on them, or invalidated them in some way, we owe them an apology. And I owe my muse an apology.

Yes, I have a muse. It is not uncommon amongst writers, musicians and artists. Homer and Virgil publicly invoked them in their respective epics, John Lennon let his ruin The Beatles, and The Bard dedicated 25 sonnets to his "dark lady." Muses have inspired everything from poetry and music to hairstyles (Google Astrid Kirchherr) and movies (Remember Xanadu?).

Well, I have a muse, too.

While muses are typically female, and in recent times, human...mine's a dude and supernatural.

I know. Weird. 

But those of you who know me from Original Bliss, know I'm a little odd - "kooky" has actually been the term used. But you also know I tell it like it is. So there you have it. I have a little spirit in the closet. Actually, I don't think he's little, he seems like he's quite tall. And he doesn't stick around in my closet or even my house. He mostly roams the Multiverse. If he has a name, I don't know it. It is probably unpronounceable to our Earthly tongue. So I just call him "Muse" when I feel him around or shout out "Muse!" when I need him. He isn't always prompt. Sometimes I have to wait for him. And though I'd like to think we are exclusive, I may not be his only client.

So here's how it happened.

Seven years ago, I had a dream~a whole series of them. And from them came the seed idea for Dream Walker. I guess you can say Dream Walker is based on a true story. Kooky. I warned you. Anyway, I was thus inspired. I plotted out my novel, developed characters and hammered out about 12,000 words. But inspiration faded and I set my book aside.

Three years ago, I pulled DW out again and tried to breathe some life into her. But I basically just smeared those first 12,000 words around in the word processor and called it editing. Dream Walker did not resuscitate.

Then, just over a year ago, my life fell apart. No, really...it completely fell apart. Everything I held dear, my marriage, my family, my home, my dreams for the future, collapsed into ruin. I became deeply depressed. I lived in my bathtub with a bottle of wine, hoping I would sink. 

One night, in the in-between of sleep and stupor, I heard his voice. Out loud. Yes. Crazy shit right there. But maybe you've heard an unseen voice at some time in your life. When you were driving and looked down at your iPhone and you heard "Look up!" just in time to see that traffic was coming to an abrupt stop. So you know what I mean.

He said, "It's time."

That all. And it was as clear as if he was standing right next to my bed. 

Normally I would have responded with, "Time for what?" Scratch that. Normally I would have responded by screaming some profanity because I heard someone who wasn't really there, then I would have asked, "Time for what?"

But I didn't ask. I already knew.

It was time for me to write my book. In an instant it all flashed into my mind. Only it wasn't the book I started writing 7 years ago. Names had changed. Ages were different. The time frame had shifted. It was my book, but new and fresh, and I got out of bed and started writing it.

Writing Dream Walker has been an intuitive process for me. Maybe it is that way for all writers. It only flows when I get my head out of the way. Rationale does not work...intellect fucks it up. Many times I thought I was going one direction only to be told by the character, that no, they weren't. The story was full of surprises--for me. There were times that my gut seized up with a knowing that everything was wrong with a chapter. I absolutely could not write another word. I would have to completely let that train of thought go so Muse would come and work his magic, lighting the synapses of my brain with epiphany.

Muse isn't just genius about storytelling either. He has also been very insistent about what I should do once the book was written, telling me over and over, "Self-publish." He's whispered marketing ideas and promotion suggestions to me in my sleep. He has pointed me toward workshops, websites and blogs specifically geared toward the independent author. Every time I move in that direction, synchronicities happen.

But my head got in the way.

Yes, I know now is an exciting time to be a writer. The opportunities and services supporting independent authors are abundant and incredible. But my head clings to the old ways. It tries to convince me that the traditional route is the only "legit" path.

Get an agent. Have them find the publisher. Self-publishing is only for people who can't make it any other way. I am a coward, afraid of the dreaded rejection slips! I have to earn my stripes by taking my licks! Amanda Hocking be damned!

Muse and I got in an argument. He left in a huff. Alright, I exaggerate. He just shrugged his shoulders and sulked off.. And I went about checking the boxes on my "traditional" route task list so I could start gathering some rejections slips for the scrapbook.

And my gut froze up. Inspiration and enthusiasm left me when muse did. My soul is not in it. 

I swallowed my pride and said, "Muse. If you can hear me across the dimensions, could you please come back? I think I am on the wrong path with this."

He was by my side right away. Even muses don't want to miss an opportunity to gloat and say, "I told you so." Again, he outlined the plan--the Independent, Self Publishing Plan of Action for Shannan Sinclair and Dream Walker. He knew I was still really apprehensive about committing to this plan, so he sent one of his helpers...an elf, a human elf.

This elf sent me an email last week. He has a friend who has the coveted Agent. And her agent scored her a publisher!!!! Her book is going to be published LEGITIMATELY!!!! His friend holds the Holy Grail of Writer's Success in her hands! Contracts have been signed. Her book will be available to the public! In January 2014.

Yes... you read that shit right. JANUARY 2014! TWO FREAKIN' YEARS AWAY!!!!!!!!!

WTF?

Muse was rolling on the floor laughing his ass off. "Told you so." He couldn't help one last dig.

That sealed the deal for me. Dream Walker is NOT going to be published in 2014. It is going to be published March 1, 2012 or very soon after. It will be available on Nook, Kindle, and Apple--electronically. And for those of you who haven't moved into the 21st century yet, I am figuring out how to kill a couple of trees just for you.

In the coming weeks, you'll be hearing more about Dream Walker's release and how you can help my book go viral! Maybe we can organize one of those Flash Mob things? Or maybe we can invade peoples dreams and seed the idea --"Buy Dream Walker today." That would be bad ass... creepy... but bad ass!

Until next time, remember...

We live in the fiction.

Shannan

Reposted from SHANNANSINCLAIR.COM

Hey Original Bliss readers!

I had an epiphany this week.

I had planned to start a completely new blog devoted to everything that I do. My writing adventures and my musings on life and my art were to all be over at shannansinclair.com. I would transfer everything there, just like moving from one house to another.

But this week I realized something. I have a lot to say about many, many things.

For instance, I have a blog post brewing about our bodies being our clocks. It is very insightful and made me laugh when I thought about it, which is a sign that it is funny. But it may reference poop, or periods, or the dreaded MENOPAUSE!

And when I thought about putting THAT post on the NEW site, it didn't resonate. It felt off.

That blog is about one part of my personality, and a "business" space for my books - of which there will be MANY and make me RICH! ***Bwahahahaha!*** That site is not for my ranting about kids, and people, and random shit in my mind. In fact, I question whether the word "shit" should even appear on that site.

But I have an alter ego that has an insatiable NEED to keep it real. She says, "fuck you!" to professionalism and making money... it's about authenticity! It's about your truth!

So I decided - I need really two blogs. Either that OR professional help for my split personality.

I am starting with the former to see how that goes, which means that Original Bliss will remain a part of the Blogoverse, that I will be embracing my split, possibly multiple personalities and giving myself triple the amount of writing to do.

Great.

;-)

Namaste,

C H E Z

Near blind from the glow of the LED backlit screen of my MacBook Pro, dizzy from the constant fumes of paper pulp and ink, fingertips dull with the callouses of 85,000 plus words, I can finally see the finish line in this marathon of novel writing.

I thought that starting a book was the most difficult part of writing. Turns out - FINISHING it is.

All the loose ends need to tie in neatly together in a satisfying read. Easier pondered than achieved. But I am going to be a stickler about this. There is nothing I hate more than really getting into a book - really, really liking it - only to get to the end and wonder how the author could ruin the whole thing in the final few chapters.

I don't want to be that author. And yet, it is so tempting! There are only 4 chapters left to right. I want to make a mad dash for it. But I am pacing myself, methodically plotting the pieces together.

Now that I am so close to actually being a novelist... it is time for me to lay the groundwork for becoming a published novelist...

and then a New York Bestselling Novelist...

then a screenwriter for the movie version of Dream Walker...

then an Academy Award winner for, I don't know, something... because I really want to go to the Oscars before I die. And I really want to sit next to Tom Cruz and see if he is as weird as I think he is.

All that being the case, I am closing the curtain on Original Bliss in order to focus my attention on my writing endeavors.

I am moving my blogging to a website dedicated to my writing. You have been such AWESOME followers here, I am hoping you will follow me over to my new digs at ShannanSinclair.com. I promise that I will be blogging regularly over there now with amusing antedotes about my mind blowing, sci-fi, paranormal LIFE in hopes to tempt you to read my mind blowing, sci-fi, paranormal fiction. 

You can decide which is which.

Hope to see you there!

New site: http://www.shannansinclair.com

New Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/ShannanSinclair

Like me on Facebook

Namaste,

C H E Z 

 

Maybe I am a delusional creature.

Or maybe at some point in my life – probably when I was 17 years old and an avid reader of Cosmo – I was sold a bill of goods that ended up being a pipe dream.

But I actually thought it was possible to HAVE IT ALL.

The house. The career. The family. The relationship. The body. The looks. The accomplishments.

And the leisure time to enjoy them.

Each one would be a dream come true, of course; there would be no shack, no shitty j.o.b., no bum of a spouse. There would be no frown wrinkles - no wubba (the pet name for my gut - from having children and not doing Pilates.) No, I was expecting the best of everything.

Now, I didn’t expect it would just be handed to me. I knew I’d have to work for it. And work hard I do! 

Now don’t get me wrong… I have a really good life. I have a beautiful home. I am the mother of two lovely and talented children. I’m holding up pretty good for my age, despite the lack of Pilates, and I am a pretty exceptional and accomplished woman.

But despite all my hard work - I don’t have EVERYTHING.

And some of what I have sucks major wang.

And on top of that - I am fucking TIRED!

 
If I am not working, I’m choring. Seriously, I calculated my “enjoyment” time. On a generous week, 6% of my time is spent doing something that I want to do. According to one study, that is 15% less than the average woman and 18% less than the average man.

First, let me say that I think the “study” is a crock o’ crap. It says that men have 5.8 hours of leisure time a day and women 5.1 hours.

SERIOUSLY PEOPLE! Do ANY of you have that many hours a day to do whatever you want to do???

No way. Absolutely – NO WAY.

And if you do, then bite me.

Second, I’d like to point out that according to this study, men scrounge out 42 minutes more leisure time a day than women. THAT I believe. I do think that men somehow manage to get more “me” time than women.

I mean, I see women running completely amok - in a constant state of go go go with a mile long list do do do’s. I am a perfect example of this. If I can, I even try TWO-do things... making appointments, while mopping the floor… folding laundry while dinner is cooking.

 Then, when I finally have the elusive “free” moment, I really stress. WHAT AM I TO DO WITH THAT MOMENT???!!!! Do I take a walk? Lounge in the bath? Do I create some art? Do I write? If I am going to watch television, I better multi-task and do a chore along with it or else the guilt will be too great. What about a freakin' nap?

We make ourselves crazy trying to be all things to all people and look good while we do it.   

Then I realized, I have never in my life witnessed this behavior in the male of our species. Never, ever ever! Dudes pick their one-a-day and that's it. They don’t have an inner nag, and they have the amazing ability to completely tune out the outer one.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe you guys do totally stress the fuck out about whether to do yard work or watch football - whether to help the Ms. with housework or tinker on the car in the garage. Maybe you are just hiding your despair over trying to make these decisions. But I doubt it.

Really?

Football? Or mowing the lawn?

Vacuuming? Or getting your fingers greasy changing the oil on the hooptie?

It isn't rocket science.

This brings me to the maxim of my message.

First…. I have to get it through my thick skull and into my crazy, female brain: I cannot have it all. That is a bunch of fairytale hogwash designed to make us insane.

I can have what is IMPORTANT to me. If I want an immaculate house… If I want to be successful in my career… If I want fantastic, well-adjusted children… If I want a kick-ass relationship… If I want to create art or write my novel… If I want to rock a bikini… So be it. I can have them. But I have a finite amount of time in my days and each of these things takes a piece of that time.

It's simple math.

SO -  I have to take a lesson from the boys and get more single track minded about my priorities. I have to chose which ones are important enough to allot my time to. I need to say good-bye to the impossible ANDs and ALLs of my life and embrace the ORs instead.

I need to choose the things I really WANT and - ladies, breathe with me - let the other things go. 

The mopping may not get done this week if I want to write a chapter of my novel, OR go out with the girls, OR cultivate a relationship OR just sit on the couch and scratch my balls.

If I can operate with this new way of behaving, I may not live as long (sorry guys, I don't know why, but that is still a fact), but I'll be a hella lot happier while I'm kickin'.

Namaste,

C H E Z

Top two photographs copyright of Sherri DuPree Bemis

Hello old friends and readers. It has been a very long time. Way too long for me, that's for sure. 

The goal was to stop everything else and just focus on writing my book. I thought it would be a good diversion - to keep my head engaged as I maneuvered my way through the wreckage of my life. But now I do not think that was a wise choice. By sticking my head into the fiction of my novel, I lost touch with the reality of my heart. I ignored my emotional voice.

Blogging, art journaling, and journal writing have always helped me keep my inner space spruced up. It forces me to look at the emotional clutter and make decisions about what to do with it. What is this about? Can I get rid of this now? Can I move on? Can I transform it into something beautiful?

Needless to say, without that outlet, my innards are lookin' like holy hell.

I thought it would be so nice just to shut out all the pain and suffering... to come down with an amnesia that blocks out the memories. But if they aren't really dealt with - YOU ARE DOOMED TO REPEAT THEM!!!!

Ah yes... and that was the inspiration for my posting today. I was tootling along on cloud 9, really happy about the progress I have been making in my recovery from a disastrous relationship. Thrilled to be meeting new people and doing new things. EXCITED about the possibilities and the future.

But underneath that glam and glittery surface.... eee gads! It is dark and murky and slimy. EW.

And all that denial, grief, anger, and confusion - feeds a monster. And then when I least expect it, it surfaces and spews that nasty crap out her blow hole.

Yeah... she's an ugly bitch.

So, in order to slay the monster, I have to starve her out. I have to, like really, get to work. Stop denying the pain and grief and anger. Stop trying to hide it all in the closet and under the bed, so I can look "pretty" all the time.

And while I do that, I am going to start balancing my novel writing with a little play - some finger painting, some scribbling, and some temper tantrums in blues and gray.

Okay.... and maybe some pink, and green, and bright golden yellow!

Namaste,

CHEZ

Now that the dust has settled in my life, I am back to REALLY finishing my book. The climax and finale chapters are underway as you read this post.

Because I am planning to e-publish it - to generate interest - while I search for an agent/publisher, I have also started planning my marketing strategies, designing covers and preparing a web site. 

This whole novel writing endeavor is arduous. Although the idea for the novel came to me almost 7 years ago, I didn't begin truly gestating it until November 1st of last year. By the time I finish, I will have carried this puppy for 9 months. I am fascinated at how the process is almost exactly like being pregnant with children. 

The uncontrollable eating.

The unbearable anxiety.

The sleepless nights.

The heartburn.

The hemorrhoids.

I can't wait for the damn thing to crown!

My beta readers and I have narrowed the book cover design down to the final two choices. I wanted to give all of you a sneak peek and an opportunity to have a say in which one you like the best. It has basically come down to the font.

Dream Walker is a quantum fiction novel about a young woman who unwittingly stumbles into another dimension and witnesses a murder. What she believed was only a dream, she soon discovers is a reality, and she finds herself in danger of being hunted and eliminated by the people in control of The Stratum.

Please leave a comment as to which cover you prefer! Soon, I will be posting some sample chapters to whet your appetite as well!!!!! Fun! Fun!

Namaste,

C H E Z

Book Cover Photo  ©DepositPhotos / Stanislav Perov

Home Sweet Home.

A space I don't have to leave to feel like I am away from it all!

Namaste,

C H E Z