Trying New Things

I wish I could tell you the new things were related to current work.

That I flew off to an exotic location to do a book signing because they just had to have me. Or how I singlehandedly wrote the next book in my series in a surge of inspired greatness overnight. Then again, it could be The Coast on the phone with the details of the option to turn my book into a movie.

But, none of those things are true. At least, not yet.

The new things I’m talking about are all pretty much makeup products.

And here’s where I lose most everyone…

Bye!

Okay, now that there are only a few of us left, let’s talk about the pretty colors and tropical smelling goodness!

Squee!

But first, some backstory for those who are new here.

Quite a while ago, my sister got back into makeup. She got me interested in trying a bit of war paint again after many years of giving the thumbs-down to most all makeup. You can read all about that story here.

Then I found the whole industry so fascinating (wait, I can buy organic skin care, products that are good for my skin, and they have shades complimentary to translucent people now?) I wrote a book, with a main character striving to become a freelance makeup artist, called Makeup Your Mind.

And I figured that would be that. My interest in makeup would basically fade away and I’d be left with a few nice things to use until two years (ahem, five years, ahem) past their expiration date like usual (don’t judge me, I’m not a beauty guru).

However, that’s not what happened at all.

In fact, now that I’ve discovered there actually are products that work with my skin tone, skin type, to enhance what I already have, I’ve become even more interested.

If I were a beauty guru, this is the time I’d say either, I’m shook, or, I’m obsessed.

Are they still saying that? Probably not. Anyway…

Just call me a consumerist and call it a day. Yup. I’m brainwashed. Hooked. Whatever.

I’m still not a full glam, false eyelashes kind of girl and the likelihood that level of makeup will happen in my life is slim to not-a-fucking-chance (glue near my eyes? Uh, no thanks).

But a light wash of colorful prettiness that makes my cheekbones and eyes stand out, as opposed to my jowls and age spots? Uh, sign me up!

And over the past few weeks I’ve found three holy grail things I don’t want to live without.

Here they are.

Yes, technically this Pacifica palate is a 4-in-1 product but that could be why I love it so much.

Here’s why I love them all. And, no, this blog isn’t sponsored or whatever those YouTubers always have to disclaim. I’m not an affiliate and I don’t make money if you decide to purchase these items.

(Unless you go buy Makeup Your Mind <-- shameless self-promo, but I digress)

Eyeshadow was one of those things I basically stopped using because I have loose old-lady skin on my lids now and by four hours after application the creasing and wearing was so bad it was easier not to deal at all. But I’ve secretly always loved doing really dramatic stuff with my eyes to make the blue-green color pop. And I missed that.

So when my sister gave me a NYX shadow primer that didn’t work for her I tried it. Um, can someone say game changer? If I apply and immediately set with a powder I can get a full ten hours out of my eyeshadow now and it Will. Not. Budge!

Thanks sister!

Then there’s the Palate from Pacifica. Swoon!

So I’m an Ipsy subscriber and they often partner with Pacifica. In my first year with Ipsy I got two things from the brand in question. First, a duo with blush and bronzer. Then a five shadow mini palate. When I say I hit pan on all but the gold shadow I’m not exaggerating.

It was like the skies opened and heaven sent down these items just for me. Designed for a more natural look, the colors were perfect for me. Buildable but pigmented. All the things I wanted without the most chemical crap. Plus, they are planet and animal friendly.

Cruelty free? Check. Made with coconut oil and other skin benefiting ingredients? Check. Vegan? Check. They even have a recycling program when you hit pan and empty out a product.

Like I said, this post isn’t sponsored or affiliated, I just think they have a nice thing going. The BB cream, not for me (but it smells like vacation, like all of their products do), but look at this palate.

I mean, beautiful, right?

The blue shadow was new to me and it has a golden-green shift on the lid. So pretty. The highlights are cream and only one of them is a little too unicorn on my 44 year old face. Otherwise, I intend to use all of these up. And hopefully it will be available to re-order when I do!

Finally, the setting spray.

So, I bought this last summer to give it a try. Tried it and hated it. I felt shiny, not dewy. Kind of greasy. And I have super dry skin. Which is why I love it now. It too has coconut oil (though the full ingredients list isn’t all natural, it isn’t super sketchy either). And bathing in coconut oil still might not be enough to hydrate me in the winter in the desert.

I literally turn into a lizard at this time of year.

So, when my Wet ‘n Wild setting spray started to itch my face off I had the makeup epiphany.

It’s okay to be a little extra.

I really don’t like being high-maintenance. A little concealer under the eyes, mascara, mineral lipstick and out the door. That’s what I used to do. But Cherry Davis got me into learning more and now here I am.

Moderate-maintenance.

A girl with two different setting sprays. One for each season in Phoenix. AKA: monsoon and plants-survive-because-all-the-moisture-is-wicked-out-of-humans.

The one with alcohol (I know, I know, but I’m cheap and it works and I only do my face like twice a week in the summer) works during the humid season and this Hard Candy one is like a dream come true for my face in the winter!

So there you have it. A girl once into makeup (in junior high/high school) went basically bare faced and has now come full circle back to trying out some enhancers.

And the real beauty of the thing is that, whether I love my look or hate it, I wash it all off at the end of the day.

• • • • • • • • • • •
In addition to this drivel I also write books, both fiction and non-fiction.
Learn more on my author page.

Being a Snowflake for Better or Worse

What makes you unique? The ultimate question in life. And in marketing. Because it's not enough to be good anymore, no. Now, we either have to the BEST or WORST versions of ourselves 100% of the time.

Live up to those public expectations, amiright?

Blogs offering the perfect advice for a perfect life or career. YouTube videos one-upping each other on challenges of perfect stupidity. Filtered Instagrams to let everyone know we are a perfect, unique snowflake. Just like everyone else.

Ugh.

I literally can’t stand it. The way people act to get attention. The way it seems a person has to act just so they can sell – a book, movie, album, out, their soul. I hate that it’s come to this point in history where writers have to pretend just to make some sales.

Become extroverts. Be all bold and big. Film videos of ourselves doing whatever furthers our message, like we aren’t more comfortable behind the camera.

(Side note: Yes, I know some writers are all about connecting with people, or, by some miracle of chance and luck, the opposite of introverted, it’s just, the majority of my colleagues aren’t those people.)

Thing is, I'm not supposed to sit here on this blog and tell you how much I loathe the market. Because when it comes down to it I don’t expect to write a book then magically become this rich and famous person overnight without trying at all.

I’m not that implanted in my fantasy world.

What I despise is what seems to be the only way to get stuff seen for all the effort.

Or, rather, the way the market forces us to be either shiny, happy, or straight up disaster in order for anyone to pay attention to what we do. Especially considering I’ve decided to insert myself into the machine of the modern world of entertainment production.

It’s like that quote from Practical Magic:

You can’t practice witchcraft while you look down your nose at it.

I know. Really, I do. And, it obviously doesn’t help to lament the long lost days of writing a good book, landing an agent, publisher, and having a career sprout from the effort.

But I want to wax nostalgic about that life. Because I’m seriously struggling to fit into either of the definitions of greatness in this new one.

<Insert whiny inflection of a pouty teenager who coulda/woulda/shoulda, here>

I want to figure out how to get my stuff seen by a wider audience, but I refuse to become what I hate most just to do it. What do I mean? I mean the five minutes of fame bitch who nobody remembers in a year. But, damn, did she sure sell out everything during those five minutes!

I’m more about the slow burn.

Unfortunately, nobody else is these days which leaves me in a slight jam.

People care about people who seemingly have it all. They also care about train wrecks. But what about the rest of us?

The "good enough" people.

If you've been with me for a while over here you know I'm not exactly shiny happy. One of my blog tags is "yeah I guess I am moderately fucked up after all" for God's sake. But I'm not a train wreck of a person either, hence, the 'moderately' in 'moderately fucked up'. My life is somewhat together in many respects.

And I refuse to fake it either way. I refuse to act like I'm totally perfect or totally jacked just to gain an audience. Some days are great, some suck. That's life.

Which, admitting to, makes me the most average of humans. A girl who fits in just enough to get by. And that sucks as a person with a product to sell because, these days, you better be a hot mess or otherworldly (or both) for anyone to talk about you and your shit.

How can we sell if nobody buys because they don't know who we are? And that's when we come back to the hook.

The unique snowflake inside that makes us different. The thing that sells your work by not even selling at all. The mystical alleged thing these gurus of whatever-the-fuck seem to have in droves.

What is it, that thing that makes some people rise to the forefront, makes them an authority? Special.

It's something I've thought about, more than I should have to, over the past few years. Because my real profession is thinking about how to market my work 24/7/365. How to make it stand out as unique in a mountain of others.

And that's how we circle back to disdain for what drives the market. And my lack of a hook. AKA: my inability to stand out enough to sell in the market despite my constant banging on the door, unwavering dedication to doing this fucking job.

And, breathe.

Because, I write cute stories about average people.

I'm not a politically, controversially, socially motivated writer. The themes in my books all revolve around family, friends, lovers, and how those relationships help shape the main character's world.

I like stories about everyday people who face obstacles in love and career and, though they deal with challenges to get there, they usually get there in the end. I'm all about writing the metaphorical pretty pink bow.

HEA, bitch.

So, how is that supposed to stand out? When there's an ever rising tide of words out there about Mr. Perfect or Ms. Train Wreck. It's tough not to get discouraged, I can tell you that.

And, yet, I keep doing it. Writing. Releasing books. Publishing words for the world to read. Whether 5 or 5 million read them, those books are forever.

Maybe I'll never find the hook, land the whale so to speak.

Guess I'm just average. And that's good enough for me. Because I’ll never fake it just to get where I want to go.

• • • • • • • • • • •
In addition to this drivel I also write books, both fiction and non-fiction.
Learn more on my author page.

Seven People at my Table

Someone once sang about one being the loneliest number. In theory, I get it. Nobody to talk to, and all that. But I can't believe that being 'one' means lonely or my days would get really depressing really fast.

I mean, I work alone. Monday through Friday, from about eight in the morning until five-ish at night, I rely on literally nobody but myself to do my job. That job? Actually creating people for a living.

Which, I’ve been known to point out to friends, means I’m never off the clock even when I say I am. Because it doesn’t matter if I’m alone, with one other person, or in a big group, there’s always inspiration for fiction floating in the air. Conversations. People watching. Even in my dreams.

Yeah, I know, fucked up right? When I think about it, I love that I get to do this but it is kind of weird. Characters, people, poof! Right out of thin air.

So, tonight I went to the monthly writer's meeting for Scottsdale Society of Women Writers and the presenter, Sarah McLean, led us in a writing exercise.

First, we spent about 5 minutes meditating (her profession is teaching meditation).

Can I be honest? I've never really taken to meditation. I've tried it, countless times, but I like my mind all cluttered like it is. And trying to de-clutter it just makes me feel anxious.

Again, I know, fucked up. You can probably guess how much I care.

The lights dimmed and she began guided suggestions.

I did try at the meeting. But thoughts kept coming at my head in rapid-fire succession. As always. A Five Finger Death Punch to my calm.

I paid attention to my breath, the candles, tried a few other tricks and techniques Sarah recommended. Sadly, no matter what I did, I couldn't turn it off. (Side note, it usually takes me an hour, or more, to fall asleep most nights.)

After the meditation and breathing, she gave us a writing prompt. Something we could use to guide our writing portion of the exercise.

Now that I can do!

Prompts are my favorite. Prompts were responsible for a lot of my early writing. Prompts got me started writing more serious fiction. Not to mention, my last 3 non-fiction titles, including 30 Chapters in 30 Days, were all about prompts.

When she said we only had 5 minutes to write, though, my first thought was, that's it? Why not twenty minutes? Of course, it was a dinner and presentation too, so we couldn't write all night. Damn it.

The lights came back up. She gave the prompt. I scribbled like mad.

After we finished she proposed we all choose a partner to read to and listen to.

Now, I don't mind reading out loud. And I've also done a similar raw reading thing in the past. Creative Writing class. Senior year of high school. So, admittedly, it's been a while, but doing it doesn't bother me. I just didn't feel like sharing what I wrote tonight.

Which worked out fine. I was odd gal out at the table. Literally. There were 7 of us and I was lucky 7.

Everyone paired off and I sat, listening to the chatter of white noise coming from half the room and then the other half of the room as each of the women across the six, full tables read what they wrote.

It was actually kind of cool, to hear everything and nothing at the same time.

The white noise was more comforting than the silence had been earlier in the night. So, instead of listening/reading to another gal, I went inside those chaos thoughts and I focused on my characters. I thought about my WiP and the next scene. One I was struggling to figure out.

Before I left for the meeting, I wrapped work early because I was a little stuck. On the way over I tried to piece things together. Nothing seemed right. Too cliché. Too disconnected. Wrong direction for supporting characters.

But, in the midst of the inaudible chatter, it hit me. The right direction. The next scene.

I came home, smiling, and decided to write this post tonight (Wednesday), instead of when I usually write/schedule (Thursdays), so I'd have all day to work on the next scene instead.

Maybe it was the meditation. The full, super, blood moon. Maybe it was me giving in to the noise in my brain. Or perhaps it was due to me being one, alone, while in a room full of people. A common occurrence for me. Sometimes it’s just easier to live inside my head than the real world, you know?

Whatever caused my mind to work double time, something broke through.

And tomorrow I will be alone, though anything but lonely. I have my characters to keep me company after all. And now I know just where they're headed.

• • • • • • • • • • •
In addition to this drivel I also write books, both fiction and non-fiction.
Learn more on my author page.